The cedar hull of the transport skiff cut through the calm blue swells of the inner reef.
Kaelen Vance sat on an overturned storage crate in the stern, watching the jade compass in his mother’s hands.
On the polished stone plate, three tiny crimson sparks drifted toward the southern horizon.
“Pyre is moving fast,” Claire Vance said, her eyes tracking the lead beacon. “He is heading straight toward the Sun-Marrow volcanic chain. That is where Ashen Sun hides their deep reserves.”
“Let him run,” Kaelen said, leaning back against the gunwale with a muffled yawn. “A thief never runs faster than when he thinks he just stole something precious. When we are ready to collect the bill, we will know exactly which door to knock on.”
Beside them in the narrow hull, Deacon Vane knelt between three bulging bags of Sovereign Jade Cores.
His fingers tapped an invisible abacus against his knee. His eyes were wide and twitching with nervous energy.
“Thirty thousand cores,” Vane muttered under his breath. “Thirty thousand cores on an open skiff with two oars and a canvas sail. If a reef shark bumps the hull, I will have a heart seizure.”
