"Right on time, Jones," came the booming voice of Cameron from the dock. He strode over to Alfred, who was walking with his family down the rows, looking for the boat that would take him to the Silver Seal. At hearing Cameron's voice, Alfred waved to the man and jogged over, luggage in tow.

"You ready for the expedition, lad?" Cameron asked. He was carrying a clipboard and a pencil, and at his hip was a walkie talkie.

"You bet!" Alfred said with a grin. "I packed all my clothes, some books, and everything else that was on the list you sent me."

"Excellent, excellent," said the older man, clapping Alfred on the back so hard he nearly sent him sprawling. "Captain McAllister will certainly be glad t' hear that."

Alfred nodded, trying hide how much of the wind had been knocked out of him, and asked, "So, where's the Silver Seal?"

"The Seal? Why, she's righ' over there," Cameron replied, making a grand, sweeping gesture behind him. Alfred looked in the direction Cameron was pointing and gasped.

The Silver Seal was one of the biggest ships he had ever seen. Even in the distance it towered over them, hiding them from the light of the rising sun. As Alfred looked down the length of the ship, his astonishment only grew. It seemed to go on and on and on, a nearly endless wall of white, topped with two rows of tinted windows that reflected the water below. The ship had two decks—the top deck was smaller, with two cranes sticking up into the air like spindly arms, while the bottom deck was busy with cargo, equipment, and crew. Above the top deck was the bridge, its curved span of windows gilded with rays of sunlight, while the roof of the bridge was covered with a tangle of antennae and satellite dishes. The words 'Silver Seal' were painted in huge, gray cursive lettering that was edged with metallic silver paint. Alfred suddenly felt very, very small.

"That's it?" he said. "A… a cruise ship?"

"Aye, that she is," Cameron replied. "She was built a cruise ship, but she's no pleasure boat. She had t' be gutted and remodeled inside in order t' meet our needs. Originally, we tried a bunch o' different tankers—we went through a Panamax, New Panamax, Aframax, even a ULCV—but none of 'em were really what we needed. In the end, Captain McAllister bought the Silver Seal and repurposed her for selkie huntin'." Like Captain McAllister, Alfred noticed that Cameron's accent became a lot stronger when he wasn't being serious and professional, as he had been during the interview.

While Arthur, Francis and Matthew asked Cameron about the Silver Seal, Alfred briefly wondered what Captain McAllister and his crew could possibly be carrying that would require such an enormous ship. In the end, he decided not to ask. He'd probably find out anyway, since he would be on the ship for the next eight weeks.

"So… I guess this is it, then," he said softly.

"Looks like it," Matthew agreed.

Alfred turned back to his brother and fathers. For the first time, it really hit him that he wasn't going to see any them for a long time. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, tightening his grip on his luggage.

Suddenly he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and pull him into a tight hug. A moment later he dropped his bags and returned the hug, holding his twin in a tight embrace. After another moment passed, both Arthur and Francis joined them.

"I'll see you guys soon," he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

"O-of course you will," said Arthur. "Tell us everything that happens—I want all the details, understand?"

Alfred nodded, and started to pull away from the hug, but before he could let them go he felt Arthur slip something into his pocket and hug him slightly tighter.

"It's a ward," Arthur said in a low voice. "To protect you from harm."

"Dad," Alfred sighed, "I'm a big boy now. I don't need your magic charms anymore. That's what life vests are for."

Arthur, unlike his son, was a staunch believer of magic. Everywhere he went, he saw faeries and sprites that only he could see, and often talked to them when he thought no one else was listening. Occasionally, he could be found drawing sigils around the house or reading aloud from a grimoire about twice as old as himself and nearly as heavy. Although Alfred thought magic in general was ridiculous, he had more or less accepted that there were just things his father did. But at that moment, as he stood mere moments away from what would surely be the greatest adventure of his life, he was not in the mood for dealing with his father's eccentricities.

"I know you think it's silly," said Arthur, "I know you're grown up and you can take care of yourself… Even if you don't want this ward, just… please, keep it for my sake. Just to make me feel better."

It was the slight tremble in Arthur's voice that broke down the last of Alfred's resistance. As subtle as it was, it betrayed how unsure the man was about releasing his son into the world, how he would do anything to keep his family safe from all possible harm, no matter how strange his methods may seem. Alfred, for all his disbelief in magic, simply didn't have the heart to refuse. So he accepted the ward and the kiss on the cheek that came with it, and stepped back to get one last good look at his family.

"I've packed you some snacks for the trip," said Francis. "So if you find the ship's food unbearable, you won't go hungry."

"You won' have t' worry about that," said Cameron with a smile. "We've got an expert cook, as well as a cook-in-training who knows a lotta good Italian recipes. Yer son won' starve on this trip."

Francis nodded in approval, then turned back to Alfred and whispered, "If anything interesting happens over the next eight weeks, you will let me know, won't you?"

"Oh, come on, Papa!" Alfred said with an exaggerated eyeroll. "The most exciting thing that's gonna happen is I might get eaten by a whale."

"You say that now, but you haven't even met the crew," he returned with a wink. "Who knows what will happen? Perhaps you'll meet someone you like."

Alfred let out a groan and covered his reddening face with his hands.

"Alright, I'll stop," Francis laughed, planting a kiss on his son's head. "Stay safe, mon petit chou. Je t'aime."

Alfred grumbled some unintelligible complaint, giving his family one last hug before turning back to face Cameron.

"Well, it's been a pleasure meeting ya," said Cameron, addressing Arthur, Francis, and Matthew, "But I'm afraid we'll have t' be on our way. You all set, Jones?"

"Sure am," Alfred replied shakily.

"Good lad. Step righ' this way, th' boat's over there. And don' bother with yer bags, there's a crewman that'll take 'em on another boat an' deliver 'em straight to yer room while I give you a tour of the Silver Seal." He pointed farther down the dock, where a little white motorboat sat expectantly.

Alfred nodded, barely taking in this information. He was really leaving. No more goodbyes or well wishes—no going back.

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and followed Cameron down the dock and into the waiting boat.

• • • • • • •

The trip across the harbor was short, and within fifteen minutes the little motorboat had pulled up to the side of the waiting ship. Alfred and Cameron sat in the back seat, while the driver—a very tall, brawny man by the name of Ludwig—took them there. Alfred spent about half the ride trying to strike up a conversation with Ludwig, but the man's one-word answers, combined with the constant drone of the motor, made it impossible. After a while of this he finally gave up, contenting himself to watching the waves jump and skip by. They went around the back of the Silver Seal, passing by a pair of motors each nearly the size of their own boat, before Ludwig cut the motor and drifted them over to line up with the cruise ship.

Alfred had felt small back on the dock, looking at the Silver Seal from a distance. That was nothing compared to how utterly miniscule he felt now, with this behemoth just a few yards away.

"Alrigh', now listen up," said Cameron, standing up. "Six big cords with hooks on the end are gonna come down from up there,"—he pointed up to deck, which, from their angle, they couldn't actually see—"and we'll attach 'em to these hooks on the boat,"—he pointed to the bow, stern, and sides where oversized eye hooks had been drilled in—"and once I secure 'em, I'm gonna whistle to the lads up there and they'll lift us up. Any questions?"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Alfred said. "So what you're saying is, this boat is gonna be picked up with us in it, and take us up there?"

"That is correct," said Ludwig as he gently steered the little boat to keep it aligned.

"But… why?" he asked. "Why would you go to all this trouble to take a smaller boat to get to a bigger boat? Can't you just find a harbor with deeper water to dock at?"

"The captain has ordered us to board this way," Cameron replied.

"Seriously?"

"His orders are our commands," was his answer. "That goes for myself an' the rest of the crew, including you. When you get an order, ya best hop to it—no questions, no objections. Understand, Jones?"

Alfred didn't reply. He was staring at the massive hull of the Silver Seal, only half-listening to the older man. How did they manage to pull this motorboat out of the water and onto the ship without pulling the hooks out of the boat? And for that matter, what would happen if the hooks did get pulled out? Would it be one at a time, or would they all come loose at the same time? How high up would they get before that happened? What if—

"Jones!"

"What?"

"I said, do you understand?"

"Yeah, I gotcha," he said. "What captain says, goes."

"You gotta start payin' attention, lad," said Cameron. "On this ship, we got no time fer slackers. Yer gonna be up from dawn til dusk, maybe longer if we get a catch a selkie. You need t' be at attention at all times."

"Even when I'm asleep?"

"Watch it, Jones," the older man warned, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Here come the hooks," Ludwig broke in. They all looked up to see a crane jutting out from up on the deck lowering down six metal hooks, each the size of Alfred's outstretched hand. As soon as they were within reaching distance, Cameron and Ludwig immediately set to work, pulling them down and attaching them to the eye hooks on the boat. Alfred tried to follow suit, but ended up just fumbling around with the unwieldy hunk of metal until Ludwig yanked it out of his hand and attached it properly. Alfred stood there for a moment, unsure what to do, then just sat down in embarrassed silence and waited for the others to finish.

A minute later, after all the hooks were secured, Cameron gave a nod to Ludwig, who returned to his seat at the wheel. The older man then put his fingers to his lips and whistled one loud, piercing note, and immediately took his seat. The motorboat lurched forward, then slowly began to rise up into the air.

Alfred felt his stomach twist into a knot. They were already a good six feet above the water, and rising steadily. If he wanted, he could still jump, but the distance to the shore was too far for him to swim.

He felt the weight of Arthur's ward in his pocket, and felt oddly glad that he had it with him.

No going back.

He sucked in one last deep breath, fingers digging into the leather seat, and looked up to face whatever was waiting for them on the deck.