Fog moved through the three figures without disturbing their coats.
They stood beside a half-submerged channel post, their feet in water that should have reached above any living person’s head. One turned toward Gull’s Luck. The others remained facing the passage beyond.
The forward return indicator began to quiver.
Ruth put her hand beside it.
“Hold outside the next buoy.”
Drake gave the order. A sailor lifted a folded cleansing charm from the place ordinary ship stores kept things meant for dangerous remnants.
Lyra saw the metal tag at the nearest figure’s throat.
“Keep that closed.”
