Ellie winced as she smoothed medicinal salve over her forearms. The Sweetsnare’s burns had blistered overnight, leaving angry red welts from wrist to elbow. She’d found the jar of ointment in the Tidedancer’s captain’s quarters, tucked away with other medical supplies.

“Just like Tyler’s kit on the Blue Horizon,” she said, remembering her husband’s meticulous organization of salves and bandages. The familiar scent of wintergreen and dock leaf filled the cabin.

The ship’s deck rolled beneath her as she secured the last bandage. Through the cabin’s weathered windows, she could see the first of the Dragon’s Maws churning ahead—a massive whirlpool that made the legendary tide-races of Lake Dragontide look like ripples in a pond. Even from here, she could see the eerie blue light pulsing in its depths.

Ellie tucked the jar away and climbed to the deck. The old charts she’d found marked a narrow safe passage between the maelstroms, but one wrong turn would drag the Tidedancer into the abyss. She’d seen smaller vessels caught in whirlpools before—watching helplessly as they spiraled down into darkness.

“Not today,” she said, gripping the ship’s wheel. The wood was smooth beneath her palms, worn by countless hands before hers. “I’ve got a son to save.”

The morning wind caught the mainsail, pushing them closer to the Dragon’s Maws. Ellie could feel the subtle pull of the current already, trying to draw them off course.

The crystals from Aetheria clinked in her bag, but those songs would have to wait. Right now, she needed all her focus to thread this needle of calm water between death’s teeth.

The first whirlpool loomed larger with each passing moment. Ellie eased the wheel to starboard, following the faded markings on the ancient charts. According to the cryptic notations, she needed to stay in the deep water channel marked by the wreckage of old ships.

She spotted the first marker—a broken mast jutting from the waves like a skeletal finger pointing skyward. Beyond it, barely visible through the morning haze, other pieces of shattered vessels formed a morbid trail through the Dragon’s Maws.

“Keep the Wavecutter’s crow’s nest to port,” she said, recalling her father’s tales. “Then three lengths past the merchant galley’s bones.”

The current grew stronger, making the Tidedancer’s timbers creak. Ellie felt the subtle shift in the deck beneath her feet as competing forces pulled at the hull. To her left, the massive whirlpool’s rotation created its own wind, trying to snatch her sails.

A deep thrumming sound vibrated through the ship. Ellie frowned, moving to the port rail. Far below the surface, that strange blue light pulsed like a massive heartbeat. Something about its rhythm seemed almost familiar.

The wheel suddenly jerked in her grip. The current had caught them, dragging the Tidedancer’s bow toward the whirlpool’s edge. Ellie threw her weight against the wheel, muscles straining.

“Not here,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not when we’re so close.”

She remembered Tyler teaching her about fighting crosscurrents near the ice flows of Lake Dragontide. “Don’t fight the water directly,” he’d said, demonstrating with gentle adjustments rather than forceful turns. “Work with it, let it help you find the path.”

Ellie relaxed her death grip on the wheel slightly, feeling how the current wanted to pull them. Instead of fighting it entirely, she used its force to help swing the Tidedancer’s bow toward the next marker—the broken hull of what had once been a merchant vessel.

The ship responded, cutting through the waves more smoothly now. They were halfway between the first two whirlpools when something massive moved beneath the surface. A shadow passed under the Tidedancer, larger than any seadrake she’d seen before.

“Stay below,” she whispered, though she knew the creatures couldn’t hear her. “Just let us pass.”

The shadow moved on, but Ellie’s hands remained tight on the wheel. She still had four more sets of whirlpools to navigate before reaching open water again. And somewhere beyond them lay Drakemere Island—and Pryce.

She glanced at the approaching vortex, its spiraling surface mesmerizing in its deadly beauty. The strange blue light pulsed again, stronger now.

The second set of whirlpools flanked the channel like twin sentinels. Their roar filled the air—a deep, hollow sound that seemed to resonate in Ellie’s bones. Between them, the safe passage narrowed to barely twice the Tidedancer’s width.

A sheet of spray hit her face as the bow crashed through a wave, but she didn’t dare release the wheel to wipe her eyes. Even a moment’s distraction could send her spiraling into the abyss.

The blue light pulsed again, closer to the surface now. It cast strange shadows across the Tidedancer’s deck. The thrumming grew stronger, vibrating through the hull until her teeth ached.

“Depths take you,” she said, blinking water from her eyes. The next marker—what looked like the stern of an ancient warship—was barely visible through the spray.

Something struck the hull with enough force to make the whole ship shudder. Ellie stumbled, keeping her grip on the wheel only by wrapping her arm through the spokes. That same massive shadow passed beneath them again, but this time it was close enough to the surface that she could make out scales the size of barrel lids.

The creature circled back, and now she could see it clearly through the water—a seadrake larger than any in the stories. Its scales weren’t the corrupt black of the others, but rather an iridescent blue.

“Hold steady,” she told herself, forcing her attention back to the channel markers. “Just hold—”

The seadrake breached, its massive head rising from the waves like a mountain of scales and teeth. Water cascaded from its fins as it twisted in the air, its body passing so close to the ship that Ellie could have reached out and touched it.

For one heartbeat, its eyes met hers. In their depths, she saw something that stole her breath—not mindless fury like the others, but intelligence. Wisdom. Pain.

Then it crashed back into the sea, sending a wave that nearly capsized the Tidedancer. Ellie spun the wheel hard, fighting to keep the ship from being pushed into the nearest whirlpool.

The impact knocked something loose in her bag. The crystals from Aetheria spilled across the deck, their surfaces catching the strange blue light. As they rolled toward the scuppers, the seadrake’s thrumming changed pitch—almost like a response.

The crystals skittered across the deck with each roll of the ship. Ellie couldn’t risk releasing the wheel to grab them—not with the whirlpools pulling at the Tidedancer’s hull. One crystal tumbled through the scupper, disappearing into Lake Dragontide’s with a tiny splash.

The seadrake dove after it, its massive body creating a wake that pushed the ship dangerously close to the whirlpool’s edge. The blue light pulsed faster now, almost like a warning.

“Come on,” Ellie urged, spinning the wheel to counter the current. Her burned arms strained. The Tidedancer groaned.

The remaining crystal rolled toward the port side as the ship tilted. It produced a sound that cut through the whirlpools’ roar. The seadrake’s humming changed pitch again, harmonizing with the crystal’s tone.

Ellie remembered Pipwhistle’s words about the creatures’ true nature, about songs that could reach past centuries of corruption. But there was no time for songs now—not with the next set of whirlpools approaching fast.

These were worse than the others. Three massive whirlpools formed a triangle, with the safe channel snaking between them like a thread through needles. The blue light pulsed from all three simultaneously, making the water itself seem to glow.

“Sweet depths,” she said, seeing how narrow the passage was. The charts showed this as the most dangerous stretch—where most ships were lost.

The seadrake surfaced again, this time off the starboard bow. It moved with grace, its body creating a pattern in the water that caught Ellie’s attention. The creature was swimming against the whirlpools’ pull, forming an eddy that actually helped push the Tidedancer toward the safe channel.

Was it... helping?

A memory surfaced—her mother teaching her to read the water’s moods while fishing near Crystal Shores. “The lake remembers,” she’d said. “It remembers what was, what should be. Sometimes, if you listen close enough, it tries to remind us too.”

The seadrake surfaced again, closer now. In the blue light, Ellie could see patterns etched into its scales—symbols similar to those in the ruined city. Its massive body continued to cut through the current, forming a barrier between the ship and the nearest whirlpool.

“You’re not like the others, are you?” she said, adjusting their course to follow the path the creature created. “You remember what you once were.”

The dragon’s thrumming shifted pitch again as Ellie noticed the whirlpool’s pull seemed to weaken wherever that resonance touched the water.

Through the spray, she spotted the next marker—the shattered bow of a merchant ship. But this time, she didn’t need it. The seadrake’s wake formed a clear path through the maelstroms, its body carving a safe channel through the deadly currents.

“The lake remembers.” She let the wheel move more freely, trusting the path the ancient creature revealed.

The Tidedancer picked up speed, riding the edge of the current. They passed between the three whirlpools so close that Ellie could feel the spray from all of them. The blue light pulsed one final time, illuminating the seadrake’s eye as it turned to look at her.

In that moment of connection, Ellie understood. The Dragon’s Maws weren’t just a barrier—they were a test. The whirlpools’ pull weakened as the Tidedancer cleared the last eddy, and the seadrake dove deep, its task complete.

Ellie let out a breath. She retrieved the crystal from the mast’s base, its surface warm to the touch as she placed it back into her bag. Far ahead, though still obscured by haze, dark cliffs rose from the water—Drakemere Island.

 As the haze thinned, Drakemere Island’s true scale became clear. The cliffs didn’t just rise from the water—they towered, their black stone faces riddled with cave openings like a giant honeycomb. Near the top, elaborate architecture had been carved directly into the rock—spires and balconies that seemed to defy gravity.

Ellie’s mouth went dry. The Dragonkin palace was larger than all of Crystal Shores. Dragons wheeled through the air around the higher levels, their scales catching the late morning light. She counted at least a dozen before giving up.

“Where would they keep you, Pryce?” she wondered aloud, studying the cliff face. The dragon pendant he wore would lead her to him if she was close enough, but first she had to gather information.

The Tidedancer’s bow cut through the waves as Ellie searched for a safe approach. She needed somewhere hidden from the dragons that patrolled the skies.

A dark shadow beneath the cliffs caught her eye—a natural arch of black stone, barely visible unless you knew where to look. The opening seemed large enough for the Tidedancer, and the overhang would hide them from the dragons circling above.

Ellie guided the ship carefully through the narrow entrance. The space opened into a sheltered cove, its walls riddled with smaller caves. Symbols had been carved into the rock, weathered by centuries of waves.

Perfect. She dropped anchor in the deepest part of the cove, where the Tidedancer’s mast wouldn’t show beyond the arch. A sentry dragon passed overhead, its shadow briefly darkening the water, but the ship remained hidden in the gloom beneath the stone.

Somewhere in that fortress, she would find Pryce. She just had to figure out how to get inside without being spotted by the dragons that wheeled overhead.

The burns on her arms throbbed, reminding her to reapply the salve before doing anything else.

Ellie formed a plan. The Dragonkin would have supply ships, messengers, servants—someone would know where they were keeping her son. She just had to find the right person to ask.

Ellie retreated to the cabin and pulled out the jar of salve. Her burns had started bleeding again during the difficult passage through the Dragon’s Maws. As she unwrapped the bandages, she studied charts spread across the captain’s table.

The Dragonkin palace’s defenses were formidable from the water, but these old diagrams showed something interesting—a network of sea caves beneath the main fortress. Supply vessels would need a way to deliver goods even in bad weather. If she could find one of those caves . . .

A splash outside made her freeze. She crept to the cabin window, staying in the shadows. A small fishing boat passed by the arch, its crew dressed in the simple clothes of servants rather than the elaborate armor of Dragonkin warriors. They were hauling in nets full of fish—probably to feed the dragons.

 Ellie watched them work. The servants would know the palace’s layout, its routines. And more importantly, they’d know where prisoners were kept.

She finished wrapping fresh bandages around her arms, then began searching the Tidedancer’s storage compartments. There had to be something she could use.

Her hand struck a bundle of cloth. She pulled it out—simple fishing clothes, worn but sturdy, much like the ones the servants wore. A plan began forming in her mind.

“Sorry, Tyler,” she said, thinking of all the times he’d warned her about taking unnecessary risks. “But sometimes the best way through a dragon’s den is straight through the front door.”

She began cutting cloth. The burns needed to be hidden—no servant would be allowed to work with open wounds. As she worked, she memorized the cave systems shown in the charts. She would have one chance at this.

A horn sounded from above, its deep note ringing off the cliffs. The fishing boat outside quickly hauled in its last net and began rowing toward one of the larger cave openings.

Change of watch, Ellie realized. Perfect. She could use the shift change to slip in among the returning servants.

Now she just needed to get up there without being spotted by the dragons above.

Ellie changed quickly into the servant’s clothes she’d found. The rough fabric irritated her burns, but at least the long sleeves hid the bandages. Her red hair would stand out like a signal fire among the dark-haired Dragonkin. She searched the cabin’s storage, finding a battered fisherman’s cap with a deep brim. It wasn’t perfect, but tucked up carefully, it would hide her distinctive hair.

“Think like a servant,” she told herself, practicing the stooped walk she’d seen the fishermen use. “Eyes down, shoulders bent. Don’t draw attention.”

She gathered into her bag only what she absolutely needed—the medicine jar, a water skin, and some dried fish wrapped in cloth. The servant’s trousers hung loose, threatening to slip down her hips. She threaded her knife belt through the loops, as both protection and practicality. The bulky shirt draped over the belt, hiding everything beneath its coarse fabric.

The horn sounded again, longer this time. Through the cabin window, she watched another fishing boat row past, heading for the same cave as the first. The shift change wouldn’t last long.

Ellie took one last look around the Tidedancer’s cabin. The old ship had served her well, but now she needed to move on foot. She touched the worn timber of the door frame, silently thanking the vessel.

“Well,” she said, adjusting the cap lower, “time to walk into the dragon’s mouth.”