The air around us collapsed inward one moment and exploded outward the next. Salt spray was pushed away by a sphere of rapidly expanding air, flattening into rivulets of water against deck that streamed from the epicentre of this sudden force.

There grew among my men a discord on that final evening. The sight of me, stained by the Kishari runecutter, had unmade their will. With my new senses, I could hear them whisper words such as “bewitched” and “doomed”.

“The Swoop has found herself in a chase. This is not our usual sortie against the navy, this time we’ve angered someone dangerous.”

The Swoop and her crew fled Kish’Ra at midnight with the good fortune of a strong wind in her sails. By dawn, tall sails on the horizon spoke of a hunter’s ship in pursuit.