“This place has a mayor?” Layla asks.

Felix smiles at her. “Certainly. You might’ve seen them. Been here

since the 1600s, I hear. Haven’t changed a bit neither, like the cove

itself.”

“Why has your crime rate been going up?” I ask.

He shrugs his meaty shoulders. “Things are changing, as they must.

’Sides, tourism’s gone down an awful lot since the oracle closed her

doors to us. That’s why people come here in the first place.”

Kurt nearly drops his teacup. “She’s closed her doors? What do you

mean?”

“Folk search far and wide for this oracle. Say she can talk to the

gods and predict the future. I’m not one for that stuff, despite all

the things I’ve seen. I wouldn’t want to know, would you?” Then the

realization comes to him. “That’s why you’re here, is it?”

“Yes,” I say. “Is there an entrance?”

“Like I told the other sea boy,” Felix says. “The ladies of the

oracle came above ground. Creepy little girls they are. They took away

the entrance right in the church. Nothing but rocks in that tunnel

now.”

We shift in our seats. I’m sweating against the leather chair. The

walls of the tent seem to be getting smaller. “Wait, what sea boy?”

“Like I says,” Felix drains his cup and refills it. “Last two days

I’ve seen more sea folk than in my whole life. Just last night, a

second ship’s crew came in. Stumbling down the dock bold as you

please, drunk as worms in a pirate’s belly.”

“Are they still here?” I stand abruptly.

“Was he wearing anything?” Kurt pats his chest. “Any symbols?”

“Aye, the serious one came first, three nights ago. Left as angry

as he’d arrived. He had a medallion with a sort of octopus. They’re

long gone.”

“That’s Adaro,” Gwen says. “That’s his family’s crest.”

“The others, they were here this morning, naked on the beach all

of them! Talked about a championship of sorts. Came around to my shop

asking for the town pub, though I dare say after last night, they

don’t need it.”

It’s like I’m in a boxing ring getting the snot beat out of me.

Bam! There’s an oracle. Bam! You can’t get to her. Bam! Others just

like you got here first. Bam!

“Will you show us where this pub is?” I reach into my pocket and

pull out some gold coins.

Kurt adjusts the sheath around his hip. “What are you thinking?”

“If it’s another champion,” I say, “I want to know their progress.

Don’t you?”

He seems hesitant but says, “I suppose.”

“Your gold’s no good to me, Tristan.” Felix pushes my hand away.

“It is I who owe you a gift. I have just the thing!”

He stands from the crate he’s sitting on and shifts objects around

until he finds a box about six inches wide. Like a good salesman, he

opens the lid with a flourish of his hand and waits for our reaction.

My initial thought is: what am I supposed to do with a bunch of

tennis-ball-sized pearls?

Then Thalia cries out. “Are those sea-horse eggs?”

“Very good,” Felix says. “Though, without the father, about as

useful as a paperweight. Pretty, nonetheless.”

The only time I saw a sea horse, it wasn’t the tiny curled things

that fit in a fish tank. He was huge, greedy, and slick with a long

snout and fins for ears. He had great forelegs with talons and a great

tail that curled back into his spine as my grandfather, the Sea King,

fed him. His name is Atticus, supposedly the last of his kind, and he

belongs to Thalia.

I hand her the box, and the sheer happiness on her face makes the

fox bite worth it.

“So…” I stand, holding out my hand for Felix to take. “Will you

take us?”

Felix chuckles giddily. Suddenly I can picture him running around

a ship searching for his Infinite Abyss. He makes sure his crates are

locked and waves to us over his shoulder.

Wind blows through the tent flaps, carrying with it the chatter of

the market and the sudden blare of instruments. Felix leads us out of

the tent into the red glow of the sunset and the chime of the

cathedral bells.

“I wonder who it is,” Kurt says, matching my pace beside me. “And

how the champion could reach her if the two entrances are blocked.”

“That’s the end-of-the-world question.”

We weave through the market crowd fairly unnoticed. A woman in a

bright dress tries to pull me into the dancing in front of the church,

but I pull away and keep my eyes on the road.

Felix walks with Thalia up ahead, probably discussing sea-horse

eggs, behind a silent Layla and Gwen who take turns glancing over

their shoulders at me.

Past the church, up the hill we go. I remember the jagged coast as

we docked. Up close, the houses lean against each other for support.

Everyone, it seems, is leaving their homes and heading to a

celebration in the square. Couples holding hands. Families with their

children. It all turns my stomach into knots. What if I’m too late?

“Why won’t you tell us about her?” I ask abruptly. Despite Kurt

being my ally, he’s still such a mystery. I know that when their

parents died, Kurt left Thalia at court. His journey brought him to

this oracle who led him into slaying dragons to avenge his parents’

deaths. Thalia said he’s tight-lipped about it. Then he returned and

resumed his life at court and in the guard until my grandfather

charged him with my protection.

Kurt keeps his eyes on the road. “I told you what to gift her,

didn’t I?”

My hand goes to the bag of glittering rough-cut jewels in my

pocket. “I mean, like what to expect.”

“That I can’t do.”

“Why?”

“Because no two experiences are the same.”

He goes quiet again. The more we climb the hill, the better view

we have of the sunset, the ships waiting in the shadows of the dock,

the white surf crashing against jagged rock.

“Here we are.” Felix stops in front of beat-up double doors that

belong to a saloon right out of a Western. “I ought to warn you. Do

not offer nothing you won’t want to part with, and that includes your

personal limbs. Do not gamble with fishermen, unless you’re seasoned,

like yours truly. Most importantly, tip Reggie the barkeep. He’s part

troll and can have quite a temper on him.”

“Are you not coming in?” Thalia asks.

Felix shakes his head. “Me wife’s making meatballs.”

I hold my hand out to him again. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Felix pats my hand, ready to go back to his regular life, to his

wife, to a supper to come home to. I wonder if their conversation will

start: “How was your day, dear?” Then I’ll become a memory, the guy

who saved him a few bucks on his inventory. That’s what all of these

things are, memories.

“Fair seas to you, my boy,” he tells me.

***

My thoughts are all in knots going into the dimly lit Kraken’s

Tooth.

The walls are all brick, stacked together with black cement that

oozes between the red. On the ceiling is a taxidermied beast. I wonder

if it’s the kraken the bar is named after. It’s arresting, with giant

tentacles frozen in great curls like it’s crawling across the ceiling.

The fury still captured in the creature’s eye gives me the creeps,

like it will unfreeze here and now and swallow us whole.

If I were him, I’d start on whoever is making that tinkering

noise. I wouldn’t exactly call it music. In the corner, a slender

woman in a lace dress plays a makeshift piano. The keys are flat

stones pulling on exposed rusty cords.

As we all file into the tavern, there’s a shift in temperature.