Chapter Thirteen – Watch Out for Sharks

Not that Lily had anything compare it to, but after the Death Eater's attack, the crew seemed to move back into its normal schedule with astonishing speed. Sometimes they spoke about the prisoner—always as "the Death Eater"—but apart from that, there might have been no threat on board at all. No one else woke suddenly in the night, their sheets damp and cold with sweat, or if they did, they hid it well. Sometimes Lily traced a hand along her scar, if only to remind herself that she had to be careful, even if everyone else thought her attacker was locked up.

Then again, apparently everyone else had been through worse.

Remus caught her touching her side one time after lunch, and showed Lily a thick, ragged scar that trailed down most of his leg.

"Nasty hex," he said. "I couldn't walk for a week while it healed."

"Missed out on chasing down this bloke we knew from Hogwarts, too," Sirius lamented.

And now that Lily knew about their real destination, the stories started cropping up. Recountings of reconnaissance missions into the Ministry, tailing Death Eaters, getting ambushed. They'd all faced dire circumstances in their own ways, many of them more than once, but they all spoke of it so lightly.

"So I'm bleeding out into the street," Sirius said over lunch one day, "and Mad-Eye is shouting in my ear to get up off your bleeding arse, and I start laughing because my arse is bleeding—"

Peter nodded eagerly. "I was trying to Heal Remus. And then Sirius is shouting at me to get over there—"

"And I'm half-dead at this point," Remus said, "and he leaves me—"

"For a minute!"

"You left him?" Lily said.

"I had to be in two places at once. What was I supposed to do?"

"Half dead," Remus reminded him.

And amid the stories and the dreams and the map, the days started slipping into each other. Some days Remus kept Lily in the common room after lunch for a magic lesson, or for chess. Marlene requested a sword lesson every night, their practices lasting from when Marlene woke up until Lily's instructions got lost in her yawning.

Marlene picked up stances quick enough—"One foot straight forward, the other sideways and a little back. Yes, like that. Distribute your weight almost evenly, just a little forward"—and drilled for long hours, shuffling back and forth across the deck, with a fervency Lily had never developed for the sword.

Mostly, though, Lily spent her days in the library with Peter and Sirius.

"Oi," Lily muttered one night before dinner. She stretched her arms up over her head, her back cracking loudly. The late evening sun streamed through the lace curtains to cast intricate shadows over Bode's note. She'd set two paperweights on the ends of it to keep it lying flat. "Why oi?" She hunched over the note gain. "What was he trying to get us to notice?"

Peter sighed. "Well, it's either oi, or ee-o. Not much of an anagram."

"Or Io," Lily corrected. "Although why he'd write about Io…."

She looked at the note from Bode once more, and then rummaged around in Peter's pile of parchments, shoving aside a few sheets to pull out his list of potential anagrams for the dotted letters.

"Io?" Peter asked.

"Don't mind him," Sirius said to Lily. "He always fell asleep during Astronomy. Io's a moon of Jupiter, Wormtail."

"Named after a mythological figure," Lily said absently. "The Greek woman who shagged Zeus and got turned into a cow."

"Because talking about Jupiter's lovers makes loads more sense than oi."

"No," Lily said, eyes skimming over the list of potential anagrams, "but there's something…something related here. I just can't remember…."

"Something related to Io. Really."

A triumphant smile stretched across Lily's face. "Yes." She shoved the parchment toward Sirius. "Oceans doesn't use all the dotted letters, but Oceanus does."

Peter frowned, and Sirius's eyebrows drew together.

"Another Greek figure?" Sirius asked. "I don't remember him."

"That's got to mean something," Lily said. "Two Greek names in the clues?"

Sirius slid the parchment of anagrams away. "Sounds a little farfetched to me."

"It's the only way the anagram makes sense, though. And it must be Io. Oi is a ridiculous clue to leave." Lily pursed her lips and pulled them to the side, studying the note.

Then she grinned again. She removed the paperweights off of Bode's note, which rolled back up of its own accord, and unfurled it a bit so that just OI was visible.

"See?" she said. "James said Bode got caught right before sending the message, right?"

"We think so, anyway," Peter said.

"Now, if he added this as a last minute piece, and he wrote in the upper right corner, that's strange. People write from the left." She feigned holding a quill. "And see? My hand would crush the parchment roll with the way it's curled up." She flipped the parchment around, so the curl was on top. "He probably wrote this way, starting from the left. My hand doesn't crush the message, and it's more natural. And from this direction, it's IO, not OI."

"He could have been left-handed," Sirius said.

Peter gave Lily a sympathetic look. "It's not a lot to go on."

Lily bit her lip and looked back at the map.

Then she sat up straight. "It is something, though. Because Io and Oceanus aren't just both Greek. They're connected through…oh, what was it. They don't overlap much, but they do in at least something."

"Greeks…that's myths, right?" Peter asked.

"No," Lily breathed, eyes widening. "A play. They're both in a Greek play." She pointed a finger at the stars. "The cross of stars breaks the pattern, right?" Peter nodded hesitantly, and Lily continued, "And when I first noticed that, I immediately thought about star-crossed, a famous line from a famous play, so the crossed star might be trying to tell us to think about a play. Oh, what is the name of the play with Oceanus?"

Sirius eyed her. "I don't think I've read a play with him in it."

"But Bode might have," she said, mind racing. "He was Muggle-born, but his parents were able to afford sending him to Hogwarts, so they're probably literate, so there's a good chance he had some classical education. Including Greek plays and Shakespeare."

"Even if they are all in some play, and the cross of stars means to look for a play at all, what are we supposed to do with that?"

"Would you stop being so negative? This is something, isn't it?"

"It does tie together some of the information," Peter said reluctantly.

"Fine. Go wander off on that tangent." Sirius drew the map away from Lily and leaned over it. "You lot work on that, I'll actually work on solving this bloody thing."

Peter looked at Lily, gave a meek smile of apology, and settled in to look at his list of anagrams again.

Lily bit back a sigh and rested her elbows on the table.

She'd read plenty of Greek and other classic works in her childhood, but now that she actually needed to remember them, the details evaded her. The ship had a limited selection of Greek works, but she pored through all of them, trying to recall where she'd encountered Io and Oceanus before.

But after a few days she'd found everything they had in the library and the common room and still hadn't come any closer.

She stepped outside one afternoon after sitting in the library for hours, alone and stumped. Thick clouds blotted out the sun, but it was still better than hunching over the table, and she began to walk toward the starboard railing.

"Oi," Dorcas called. Lily turned to see her standing at the top of the stairs to the quarterdeck. "Come here."

Lily looked at her strangely. Dorcas didn't seem overtly threatening, or at least not more than usual.

"I'm not going to hex you," Dorcas said. "Unless you don't come up here."

"That's not exactly an incentive."

"For Merlin's sake, Smith—"

"When did the crew decide on Smith? Did you take another vote?"

Dorcas lifted her wand. "Do you want to learn some new spells or not?"

"Oh," Lily said. "Yes, of course."

"Then come on."

Lily slowly ascended the stairs, keeping an eye on Dorcas in case it really was a trap. But when Lily reached the deck, Dorcas spun around and marched over to the open space between the helm and the navigation room.

"I can't stay long," Lily said. "I've got to help with the map."

"Sit with the map uselessly, you mean."

"No. Sirius is doing that, I'm trying. Teach me a spell so I can get back to it."

Lily began moving into the stance Remus had taught her, arm raised, when her wand suddenly jerked out of her hand. It flew through the air and landed squarely in Dorcas's waiting palm. Lily looked for a smug grin but found only disapproval.

"Didn't Remus teach you the Shield Charm?" Dorcas said.

Lily pressed her lips together. "I'm working on it."

Dorcas tossed Lily's wand—why could no one on this crew simply hand wands over—and Lily picked it up, scowling, when she inevitably missed.

"Practice that," Dorcas said.

"Why, so I can look as cool as Sirius? Pass, thanks."

"Have it your way. If someone throws a wand to you in a duel, I won't object when you take a second to pick up the wand and then get killed because you had to bend down."

Lily brushed off imaginary dirt from her trousers. "All right, I'll practice."

Dorcas gave a short nod. "Do that. Now repeat after me. Expelliarmus."

Few people were cut out for extended periods at sea, with nothing but miles of ocean stretching out in front of them. Lily didn't count herself among them, and it soon became apparent that the rest of the crew was just as susceptible to cabin fever. Even Dorcas and Caradoc, who had been active members on James's ship for a while, were only accustomed to the short jaunts to France.

"Must you chew with your mouth open?" Remus said to Peter one day.

"Stop shouting your spells," Sirius told Dorcas. "They come out just as well if you're not making us all deaf."

"I said starboard," Dorcas barked at Remus. "I don't care if Sirius said otherwise, starboard."

No one ever snapped at Marlene.

James's insistence on tending watch during meals meant he missed most of the symptoms; the crew was too dispersed the rest of the day for him to notice, all able to seclude themselves alone or in pairs.

Tensions rose over several days, to the point where Dorcas drew her wand on Peter at dinner. Remus was able to deflate the situation, but from what Lily could gather, he didn't know how to be a proper first mate. He must have understood the situation—Lily would have bet her candle he saw what she did—but he didn't know the sea, and he didn't know sailing. He probably didn't know how to fix things.

But Lily did.

After a particularly bitter lunch, she went in search of James, and found him casting spells on the main deck rails.

"D'you have any musicians in your crew?" she asked.

"Er, we're not exactly equipped for that. Are you looking for more lessons? And here I thought your time was plenty occupied."

Lily gave him a flat look. "Your crew's getting restless and they need a distraction. There's a reason pirates keep musicians around, you know."

"If by keep around you mean occasionally kidnap and hold hostage, yes, I'm familiar with the practice."

"Trust me." Lily leaned against the main mast. "It's not because they're appreciators of the fine arts. It does help. You need to do something—any sort of deliberate break—or someone's going to lose a limb."

"It's not that bad."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Is it?"

She nodded.

"Shit."

"If nothing else, pots and pans are something, and we can have someone sing. Unless there are music spells I don't know about that make all of that unnecessary."

"Actually, I'll get Algernon to fetch—no, it's too big. I'll go rummage around my dad's drawer."

He vanished into the library, and Lily waited, glancing around the ship. Sirius stood at the helm, and Lily let her eyes skip over him and up to the clouds. They were flat and thin today, patchy at best, but not enough to hold back the sun.

James reemerged a minute later holding a battered violin case, and set it on the ground in front of Lily. "It was my dad's, but I don't know any charms to make it go. Remus might, or Caradoc."

"I'm stunned your talents don't include playing an instrument."

"I suppose the Lady Smith does?"

'I'd play the piano for you if we had one. Unless you've been hiding your secret piano collection from me."

"No secret pianos. There's that whole secret orchestra store in the secret room off the magazine, but they don't like being talked about behind their back, and they've got wicked tempers, so…."

Lily smiled.

"But yeah," he said. "Music's not something most wizard families worry about. Except. Well."

"What?"

James's eyes flicked up to Sirius, who caught James looking, paused, and took a step back out of view.

"Oi, Padfoot!" James called.

"No!"

"Padfoot."

"Absolutely not!"

"Captain's orders are to report to the main deck immediately."

"Captain can shove that case up his arse."

James scrambled to pick up the case. Lily frowned, but then she saw Sirius wave his wand out over the railing.

"Accio!"

The case tried to fly out of James's arms, but he held tight.

"I haven't even asked you yet, you tosser," James said.

"Consider your request prematurely denied!"

James heaved a sigh and marched up the stairs, Lily trailing behind him.

"Don't tell me you're shy," Lily said, standing a bit behind James.

Sirius folded his arms. "I could play for the Queen if I wanted, but I've a permanent case of violin-loathing."

"Just one night, Sirius," James said. "I can't believe you, a Marauder, would turn down an evening of entertainment. Do you no longer believe in merriment and joy? Did you or did you not sign up to be a purveyor of mischief?"

"Not at this price. Besides, you're the one who said no fun."

"I said none of the things we'd normally do because we don't want to blow up the ship or catch the map on fire, not no fun."

"Same thing. What's life without the occasional explosion?"

"Padfoot."

"I refuse."

"I'll push you overboard again."

"Worth it."

"Captain's orders," James said in mock apology.

Sirius scowled. "One night."

"Thank you."

"Never again."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"I'm going to go work on the map."

"I'll man the helm."

Sirius glared at the violin case, still clutched in James's arms, and stomped down the stairs. A moment later the library door slammed shut.

"He's awfully touchy about that, isn't he?" Lily said. "Even for him."

James set down the case and ran a hand through his hair. "It's his family. They made him learn it."

"So did mine."

"But your family didn't disown you."

"Well, no."

"Yeah." James loosely gripped the helm with one hand. "Don't ever bring up his family if you can avoid it. He's burned off the tapestry and everything, and anything that's related to them…."

"Duly noted," Lily said, although she didn't follow the tapestry reference. "If the entertainment's all settled, though, I suppose I should join him downstairs."

"How's the map coming along?"

She sighed. "We're trying. Well, I'm trying my approach. Sirius wants to try something else, and Peter, to no one's surprise, is going along with him. It doesn't matter what I say, Sirius thinks I must be wrong."

"He's a bit pessimistic, yeah."

"He's a bit pessimistic the same way the ocean's a bit deep."

"He's had a difficult life."

Lily hadn't had the easiest time either lately, but that didn't mean she was being deliberately obtuse when it came to something important.

"You've got an idea, then?" James asked. "About the map?"

Lily explained her theory about the play, and he listened with his head ducked in concentration.

"It ties some things together," he said. "But what to do with that lead…."

"I know."

"I'll stop by in a bit and take a look, if you like."

"Thanks. If nothing else, it'll keep Sirius quieter, I think."

James grimaced. "We'll see."

"He likes you best of everyone."

"Yes, but—it's complicated. While Sirius is terrific at most Order missions, he's shit at being on a ship, or cooped up anywhere for a long time. He's not normally this irritable, I promise."

"You seem to be handling things all right, even though from the sound of it you don't usually go much further than France."

"I'm more accustomed to it than everyone else. Growing up in it, and everything. Not that I don't prefer land, honestly. But I do what I have to."

"I'm certain if you wanted a change, you could do something else for the Order."

"I'm not so sure, but I also haven't asked. There aren't many people who could step in for me on this ship."

Lily could have argued more—she could always argue more—but she only knew what James had told her about their resistance, which wasn't much at all.

"I suppose," she said. "You'll tell the others about tonight?"

"Will do. Now get to work, Smith."

She grinned. "Aye aye, Captain."

"She's no idea what she's on about," Sirius said.

"I think it sounds like something, which is, frankly, more than you've got."

Lily stared down at the map, her eyes sore, and pretended she couldn't hear them arguing in James's cabin.

"So you're going to listen to her crackpot theories?"

"I'm not going to dismiss them outright until there's a better alternative."

The door to the library flew open, banging against the bookshelf next to it, and Sirius stomped out to drop into a chair, scowling.

James emerged, one hand mussing up his hair, and joined them at the table. "Right, then. What can I do?"

Lily slid the map over to him. "Are you any good at Latin?"

"Pretty handy, yeah."

"See if you can translate the map words. Peter's done a lovely job, but everyone translates in their own way. A slightly different wording might be key."

James saluted her and picked up a quill.

Sirius hunched over his parchment, concealing his work with his arm. Whatever he was attempting, it seemed to involve some sort of runes, and Lily left him to it, flipping through the stack of books in front of her.

The shadows in the library grew long around them, and eventually Peter returned from the crow's nest.

She glanced over the English translations of the phrases that Peter had done, but none of them prompted any great insight, and she turned back to the map's English phrase for lack of options.

Where he lay fettered….

"Where who lay fettered?" she muttered. "Oceanus?"

Peter looked up. "Fetters are like chains, right?"

"Or bindings of any sort," Lily said. Then she sat up in her chair, her eyes widening. "Oh, bound, of course!"

"What?" Peter said warily.

"There's a Greek play called Prometheus Bound, and you'll never guess which two Greek figures are in it."

James looked at her, intrigued. "Really?"

"Yes." She shot Sirius a winning smile. "I'm not making things up here. Some of us are actually trying to stop What's His Face from learning about his downfall, you know."

"All right, so they're in a play," Sirius said. "What are we supposed to do with that? It's meaningless."

"No," Lily said smugly. "It's not, because it's a play about prophecies."

James's eyebrows shot up. "Oh."

"Oh," Peter echoed.

"Yes, oh," Lily said. "I'm not sure how we turn that into a location, but don't tell me that's meaningless."

"It's more than we've got otherwise." James turned to Sirius. "At least hear it out, yeah?"

"What happens in the play?" Peter asked.

"Zeus," Lily said, "the king of the Greek gods, chains this bloke named Prometheus to a rock because he claimed to have given humans all sorts of things they didn't have before: fire, medicine, maths. Loads of things. Bit of a pretentious bloke, really."

James gave a thin smile. "Sounds like Bode."

"Zeus was furious that Prometheus did all that and decided to chain him up forever. Only Prometheus could see the future. He knew what would ultimately defeat Zeus, but he refused to tell him, even when he was damned to eternal torture."

"Sounds a lot like Bode," James said slowly.

"If Bode was a pretentious Muggle-born who could find out the future, he probably loved this play."

"Great," Sirius said. "So he liked a play."

Lily fixed him with a disapproving look before turning to James.

"Well," she said, "we know the map must tell us how to get to the island, right? So he's got to give us a starting point and a direction, we know that, and somehow the clues are on here, but I think they're in the context of the play."

Sirius grumbled, but James smiled.

"Sounds brilliant," James said. "Exactly the sort of thing he would've done."

"We have all the pieces," Lily continued. "Bode made the clues very obvious to notice, except the dots. But we need to take the pieces and relate them back to Prometheus Bound." She grabbed one of her pieces of parchment with her own list of starting point, direction, and distance options. "The star-crossed clue we can eliminate because I think that's mostly to point us toward a play. The one-letter words are giving us the name Oceanus to give us this specific play, and so is Io. And so what's left on the map? If we take those bits out of consideration, what's left on the map besides the actual islands?"

"The Latin phrases," Peter said.

Lily nodded. "How to tie them into Prometheus Bound, I'm not sure."

"You're quite dim," Sirius said, "do you know that?"

"Sirius," James said.

Sirius didn't seem to be attacking, though, instead speaking very matter-of-factly. "You got to a Greek play you haven't read in years and you lost it now?"

"What?" Lily said uncertainly.

"I've looked at those lines plenty. They read in a distinct style in English – your translation is closer to mine," he told James. "It's harsh not to obey this fate. Drive him to a fresh pursuit. They're short but clearly a bit poetic."

"And?" James asked.

"I think—if Lily is right, which I still don't fully believe—they could be references to lines from the play."

"But the phrases are in Latin, not Greek," James said.

Peter looked hopeful. "Greek and Latin are both ancient languages?"

"It could be something like that," Lily said. "Or it's a way of hiding it with the words that gave us Oceanus."

"It's something," James told Sirius. "And, as we've established, I'm happy to take that over nothing."

Lily tapped a finger on the table. "You don't happen to have a copy of Prometheus Bound on board, do you? I haven't found one."

"No, but we can talk to Mad-Eye and see if he can find a copy somewhere."

Sirius jotted down something on his parchment. "Or more likely Catherine," he said absently, and then he grimaced. "Or not, I suppose."

James's eyes softened. "He'll find someone, I'm sure. But good work, all of you. I think we're getting somewhere."

Peter sighed. "Finally."

"What do you mean, no practice tonight?" Marlene said. "The weather's fine, and we're both free."

"We're all having a night off." Lily leaned against the main deck rail. Several candles hovered above them, their warm, flickering light casting shadows across the deck. "We need it."

"Oh. We are?" A note of mild panic slipped into her voice. "You lot have fun with that, but I'll pass, thanks."

She gave a strained smile and disappeared into the common room, only to reemerge not half a minute later, Dorcas's hand propelling her forward.

"We'll make the boys dance with each other," Dorcas assured her. "They can learn how hard it is to dance backwards."

That did seem to perk Marlene up some, and Lily smiled at Dorcas, who pretended not to see, instead picking a snack off the tray Caradoc had brought up.

The crew still had a certain stiffness to them, standing about awkwardly while Sirius tuned his violin, a few sharp notes ringing out across the ship. Algernon sat at his feet studying him and flicking his tail against the deck.

Within a few minutes, Sirius struck up the first song, a fast-paced, cheerful number. He'd looked annoyed since he'd picked up the case, but apparently he took enough pride in his work not to let it affect the song, which came out quick and clear.

Lily nudged Marlene. "Why don't you dance with Remus?"

"Oh," Marlene said, looking nearly wild and hiding it terribly. "I'm not really interested in dancing."

There had to be something that would pull Marlene out of—whatever she was in, but perhaps dancing wasn't it. Still, she couldn't stand the image of Marlene sitting alone while the rest of them tried to have fun.

"We're not nearly drunk enough for that," Dorcas said. "Oi, Caradoc!"

Alcohol, of course, helped the mood tremendously.

Lily had to start off the dancing, accompanied by Caradoc—acceptable as a dancer, but not marvelous—and then she shared another one with Peter while Caradoc took up with Dorcas.

Remus moved in next to Marlene, who stood with her arms folded, her foot tapping anxiously and not out of sync with the music. Lily caught Peter watching them, too, and shared a sympathetic look with him. She pretended not to notice when he stepped on her feet, forcing a smile to get through the pain.

Having two dancing couples made the affair much less strange, and Lily began to regret her clothing choice; twirling in trousers was not half as fun as in a full-bodied dress. She let her hair down instead, relishing the way it flared out around her.

The night drew on, punctuated only by the occasional silence when Sirius rested. They didn't manage to convince two of the men to dance together until Caradoc's punchbowl was nearly empty, at which point Remus was smiling stupidly enough to dance with Peter. Remus's toes would probably need Healing in the morning, but he didn't seem to mind, gently correcting Peter when needed.

Afterwards Remus swung Dorcas around, her thin mouth almost smiling.

Lily even convinced Algernon to join in—he'd been enjoying a bowl of cream Caradoc had brought him—and got him to walk opposite her in a small circle. She threw her head back and laughed when he stopped and looked confused, and she picked him up in her arms instead. He only tolerated a few spins before leaping to the ground.

Whatever Caradoc had put in the punch, it was potent. Lily felt very warm, the cool evening breeze a welcome relief against her face.

She took a song off, leaving Remus and Dorcas to dance alone, and stood next to a stiff Marlene.

Marlene wasn't being any fun at all, though—which she was entitled to, of course, but it was hard to be around someone grieving when Lily felt so free—and Lily let her eyes wander up.

James's shadow lurked in the crow's nest overhead. Someone always had to keep watch, now more than ever.

He was probably thirsty up there.

Obviously he needed a drink.

Lily dumped the last of the punch in a cup but then stared, perplexed, at the shroud to the main mast. Climbing would be nearly impossible with one hand clutching the cup.

"Ahoy," James called down. "Everything all right?"

"Peachy," she shouted. "Brought you some punch."

"Brilliant! I'll bring it up."

The cup tugged out of her hand, levitating up around the shroud, until a hand sneaked out from the crow's nest to grab it.

"Feel like taking a look from up here?" he shouted.

"Pass, thanks!"

"You scared?"

"No!"

"I dare you to come up."

"I'm not a child, James. You can't dare me into something."

"That's fine. I know you're afraid."

"I am not."

"I'll make assumptions until you prove me wrong."

She eyed the shroud and took a deep breath. It would be worth it to prove him wrong.

The punch got her up most of the way, hands and feet confidently climbing the web, and Sirius struck up a cheery, familiar tune that made her smile.

Foolishly, she looked back down at Caradoc and Dorcas twirling beneath her, and suddenly the ship seemed to sway even more than normal beneath her.

"Stuck?" James asked. He didn't have to shout now, not when she was so close.

"No," she said, although her hands seemed glued to the net.

"Come on, you're nearly here."

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not, honest."

She locked her eyes on his face, where the moonlight reflected off his glasses, and felt herself moving. Soon enough she was pulling herself over the railing, her heart racing.

It was snug with two people in the crow's nest, but not impossibly tight. The wind threw her hair in her face and she shoved it away, hands moving to tie it into a loose braid.

It gave her a focus, at least, playing with her hair.

"Don't you want to look around?" he asked.

Lily looked up at him and only him.

He'd put on that stupid, three-cornered pirate hat—and looked damned dashing in it—and he hadn't shaved that morning. He had just enough stubble for her to notice, and oh, God, it shouldn't have made her knees wobble that way.

"I'm all right," she lied.

He eyed her and took a sip of his punch. "I didn't actually think you were scared."

"I know."

"But you are."

She gripped the rail behind her. "No."

"I'm not judging. Everyone's afraid of something."

"It's not safe up here."

"Oh, I suppose—there's a spell, you know. To catch us."

It should have been a relief to hear that, but it was hard to trust the idea of something she couldn't see.

"That's all right," she said, falsely calm, "but I'm not scared."

"You're about to break that railing if you hold on any tighter. It's all right to be nervous."

"I'm not."

"Must be me, then, if it's not the heights. I get that a lot."

It was the heights, she told herself. She held on tight to the railing, enough to feel the individual grains of wood against her fingertips.

And the punch. It was also definitely the punch.

Definitely not the cocky smirk on his face.

Not at all.

"You're missing out on the dancing," she said.

"Yeah, well, they needed it more than I did."

"You've been cooped up as long as them. I find it hard to believe you're not restless yourself."

"Different sort of restless, I guess."

It would be easy to take that restless comment and run with it in a different direction, but he had turned her down last time. Although….

Technically she wasn't a captive any longer. She was a passenger waiting for the next logical place to get off.

He could have changed his mind. He'd turned her down, but not, from all appearances, for lack of wanting.

"You know," she said, letting her mouth curve into a coy smile, "if you do find yourself…restless…I'm more than happy to show you some maneuvers for that. I guarantee relief."

"Lily," he said, exasperated, and it shouldn't have stung her as much as it did. She wasn't in love with him or anything, but it didn't make sense, he always seemed—

She turned around and leaned over the edge, fear momentarily forgotten as she focused on her burning cheeks.

"It's not that you're not gorgeous or brilliant," he said, "it's just—you're still stuck, aren't you?"

"Not forever. Not like before."

"And I feel—like I'd be taking advantage."

"Remind me which one of us is instigating and then talk to me about advantages."

"You're probably still feeling pressured, even if—"

She whirled on him, her mind still spinning long after her body had stopped.

"Oh, if I don't know it?" she said. "You're right, because I'm a woman, I have all these feelings, I must not be able to distinguish them—"

"What? Where—that's not at all—I'd just feel like a cad."

"Maybe other women made you feel that way. I never make men feel like cads. Unless they deserve it, of course."

"And besides, it's just—I'll drop you off in Portugal or wherever, and then what? I'll never see you again."

"That doesn't mean we can't settle our restlessness now."

"Search for treasure? Isn't that what we agreed on?"

"Call it what you like. It's not like we're doing any of them, apparently."

"Well, I've got one treasure on my mind, and you know perfectly well what that is."

Lily rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see them. "Right, then. Now that I'm done throwing myself at you—"

"Offering treasure?"

She gave him a flat look. "I'm climbing back down."

She tried to swing a leg over the nest, but the other leg wobbled a little, and she clutched onto the rail. Strong hands grabbed onto her shoulders, steadying her.

"Wotcher," he said. "I'm not sure you're in any shape to climb down."

"There are spells to catch me," Lily said, trying to get her leg over again, anything to get away from him and the awkwardness she'd wrought.

"Er," he said, "about that."

Lily froze, her foot on the rail. "What?"

"I may have…exaggerated."

Her hands clung to the wood, and she sat petrified, the idea of movement a distant dream. "Exaggerated?"

"Well…lied. Lied is probably the more appropriate word there." He sighed. "C'mere."

His hands pulled her back, but she fought, not wanting to move an inch lest she lose balance and fall to her death.

"Lily, let go of the railing."

"I don't see why I should."

"At least bring down your leg."

"It's fine where it is."

"Lily."

She ignored him.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you're being ridiculous."

"You're a liar!"

"Merlin, I was just trying to calm you down, all right?"

"By lying."

"You know, there's this saying about a pot, and a kettle, stop me if you've heard it—"

"Pirate," Lily reminded him.

"Yeah, fine, we're both liars, but you should really maybe stand up before you lose your balance—"

"Oh, thanks so much for reminding me that's possible—"

"Like you're not already thinking about it. Now, come on," he said, and he pulled, the weight of his whole body enough to pry her away from the rail.

She stumbled backwards into him, her balance completely lost. He took a step back to catch her sudden weight, and then two, and Lily shrieked, certain they'd fall backwards over the rail and die and then get eaten by sharks—

But they stopped, his body hitting the rail behind him, his arms now somehow wound around her chest, one hand grasping her left breast.

"Gotcha," he breathed.

"Everything all right up there?" someone shouted from below.

"Fine!" James called.

"Not fine," Lily muttered. She didn't want to move. Only because she might die, she told herself, and not because she was in James's arms, her back flush against the lean line of his body. He smelled like sweat and salt and cat, but not in an unpleasant way.

"We're fine," he told her.

"I'm climbing down."

"Are you now."

She glared at nothing. "Maybe not right now."

"As I thought." He started to pull his arms free, and Lily's hands grasped onto him, although his hand dropped from her breast onto her stomach.

"No," she said quickly.

"No?"

"I'm feeling dizzy. You'd better hold onto me. Or I'll die. And get eaten by sharks."

"Well, if it's sharks we're worrying about now," he said, amusement low in his voice, "then I definitely should hang on."

"Good."

"Only because you asked."

"I insist."

"All right, then," he said softly. "If you insist."

The summer wind brushed against Lily's face, and it was all right that she was on the verge of falling to her death because James wouldn't let her go.

He was a good person. Perhaps one of the best people she'd ever met.

He wouldn't let her fall.

A/N: Two pieces of art to go with this chapter! One is the cover art, which is of Lily and James up in the crow's nest. The second is a comic by my friend Kayla – it doesn't depict an actual scene from the story, but rather a pre-TD scene that was referenced in this chapter (and which is also referenced in Chapter 2). I never managed to work in direct references to this scene, and it's funnier to see it in comic form anyway. The links to view both pieces of art are in my FFN profile.