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Nell appeared next in the doorway. She studied the room with what one might call “a professional eye,” despite having neither eyes nor any recognizable profession other than undead bodyguard.

She held up a short, curved blade and drove it into the wood of the door frame at chest height. She looked at Amrita. She looked at the blade and tapped it. Then she drew her sword as if to fight off an assailant at the door. The meaning was clear. Anyone attempting to come through this door uninvited would have another thing coming.

“That is also thoughtful, Nell.” Amrita bowed her head.

Nell gave a single satisfied nod and withdrew.

Amrita had just begun to feel the knot in her shoulders starting to ease slightly when Zara reappeared. She was carrying a wooden tray and a folded bundle balanced on top of it. On the tray: a cup of broth, a heel of bread, a small ceramic pot of olive oil, a bone comb, a cake of pressed herbs that smelled sharply of rosemary and cedar, and a tiny glass vial of something golden in color that caught the light. Beside it, laid across the top as a final finishing touch, was a single marigold.

Amrita had stayed at five-star hotels for Ordinaries with less attention to detail. It was a pity that she couldn’t leave a review.

The folded bundle turned out to be clothing. A long tunic of undyed cotton, spotlessly clean and soft from use. A second one in deep saffron. A wrapped sash. A light mantle for protection from the wind off the water. All of it finely stitched and made from high quality cloth.

She turned the saffron tunic over in her hands. The stitching at the hem was decorative and elaborate. Someone had taken a great deal of trouble and time over this garment.

She looked at Zara.

Zara’s expression, insofar as a skeleton could be said to have one, was perfectly neutral.

Amrita wondered how such fine women’s clothing might have come to be in the possession of a pirate crew. She considered the possible explanations, and then promptly put them out of her mind. The clothing was far more appropriate for the climate and the journey than the clothing she had on. She was grateful for it, even if she didn’t want to think about what had become of its owner.

“These are beautiful, Zara,” she said. “Thank you, again.”

Zara pressed her hands to her chest again and withdrew with a small bow.

Amrita changed, combed out her hair with the bone comb, and rubbed a little of the cedar soap between her hands. She opened the tiny vial and smelled it. Rose and something warmer underneath, amber perhaps. She stoppered it and set it on the ledge beside the three white stones.

Later that evening, Amrita stood at the balcony railing and stared at the water rushing by.

Fortune had followed her. The owl was perched on the rail, three feet to her left, watching the horizon, intently. On more than one occasion she straightened, as if she had spied something. A blip on the horizon. Was it a sail? Whatever it was, Amrita could not say. Her eyes were not nearly so sharp as the owl’s. She had the sense that the creature was spying on her but she didn’t mind the company.

They were sailing away from the continent now. Amrita knew she had little hope of reuniting with her party. Had they already made the difficult decision to return without her? She supposed Will and Zani would have seen the sense in getting themselves to safety and regrouping. But she was less sure about Buffalo. He could be so stubborn.

She couldn’t help but wonder what his reaction had been after she’d disappeared. Perhaps he’d puzzled it out, as Zani had, that she had known all along that something like this might happen. In that case he was probably angry with her. He had every right to be. Anger was a far more empowering emotion than many other options. Preferable to the deep freeze of fear.

How foolish she’d been to drag him along on her own dangerous, personal business. At the very least, she should have told him the whole story. She had no idea how she would ever make this up to him. If she ever had the chance.

She allowed herself a few more moments to imagine the team making the final call to leave without her. Will would have lingered, at first, repeatedly calculating the options, likely blaming himself. Zani would have been steady and reassuring. “We need to go back and regroup,” Zani would have said. “We’ll come back with more information. Will found me when I went missing in time. We’ll find the director too.”

It was the right call for them to go home without her. With or without her, they all needed to go back and get on with their lives. They were all important to their communities and their families. They were very good at what they did, and they did not need her help to keep doing it.

This didn’t make her feel the loss of her companions less.

It’s just temporary. I’ll bide my time till I can escape, and then I’ll find my way back. Just think of the stories I’ll have by then!

Amrita tucked her wand away in the pocket of her tunic. Of all the discomforts of the past, her wand’s uselessness would take the longest to get used to. No spells to cast. No teams to command. No mission statements to prepare. No budget allocation meetings or quarterly reviews. No one waiting impatiently for her reports. No one at all needing her directions or approvals. Just the slow, steady rocking of The Tufan and a staff of skeletons at her beck and call.

There was nothing she could do about her predicament in this moment. Nothing except, paradoxically, try to savor it. The odd thought occurred to her that it was a pity she’d left her Sensible Satchel behind on the dirigible, because she finally had the time to read that novel she’d so optimistically packed.

Fortune hooted at her and crept closer as the wind ruffled her feathers and blew back Amrita’s hair.

It was shaping up to be a beautiful day.

THREE CHARMS FOR THE LOVESTRUCK WITCH

Write his name upon a bay leaf

and hold it to the flame.