The water beside The Black Ballad's hull sparkled in the early morning sun.Five sleek black shapes broke the surface, moving fast enough to look important.

  Merren appeared at the rail immediately recognising the eels’ call. He looked over to where Eustace’s ship was berthed. No one. Good. "Well, well. Back so soon?" He grabbed a bucket, lowered it on a rope. "Right then, my excellent aquatic friends. Into the bucket with you, so we can have a proper chat."

  The eels slithered in without hesitation.

  “Newthss,” Ripple hissed. “Very interesting newthss.”

  “From under stone,” Sleech added. “Where voices echo.”

  Merren carried them into his cabin, away from curious eyes. Set the bucket down carefully. "Tell me."

  The eels' voices overlapped, hissing and urgent:

  “Beard-man and sharp-voice-man—”

  “Papers passed—”

  “Benjamin-man named—”

  “Four weeksss—”

  Merren held up a hand. “Easy now. One mouth at a time. Sleech — you look like you remember the order of events.”

  Sleech's voice dropped lower, more controlled. "Talking about Eldmere like it already belonged to them. Names spoken. Two of them. Paper before power. Four weeksss.”

  "Four weeks," Merren repeated. "And then?"

  "Then Valgarr forcesss Benjamin," one of the Eldmere eels—Craft—said, their 's' coming out as 'th'.

  "Heard them planning everything," Keen added, his voice clear and precise. “Transfer of authority. Faith folded under Valgarr. Legal once both sign.”

  Merren's jaw tightened. "And Benjamin is disinclined to sign away the kingdom?"

  "Won't," Ripple confirmed. "But they'll make him anyway. Heard Valgarr thay tho."

  Silence. Just the water moving in the bucket.

  "Four weeks," Merren said quietly. "What’s happening in four weeks?" He looked at the eels.

  “Four weeks at least to prepare the documents.” Keen clarified.

  "Anything else?"

  "Watching," Sleech hissed. "Many guardsss. Looking for sussspicious people. Theron investigating. Being very careful."

  "Of course he is." Merren straightened. "Right. Thank you. All of you. You've done excellent work."

  He carried the bucket back to the rail, lowered it carefully into the water. The eels slipped out, disappearing beneath the surface.

  Merren stood there for a long moment, staring at the palace visible over the rooftops.

  Four weeks wasn’t a long time.

  "Captain?" One of his crew approached. "We making ready to sail?"

  "Yes." Merren turned. "Prepare to leave for Caladwyth. This afternoon. I need to speak with King William personally." He paused. "And find Prattle. I need him."

  The jackdaw appeared moments later, landing on the rail with that characteristic head-tilt.

  "Right then, my feathered friend." Merren crouched to Prattle's level. "I need you to do something very important. Fly to the hayloft behind Good For What Ales Ya. You know the one—where our stowaways are hiding."

  Prattle's head cocked the other direction.

  "Tell them what the eels just told me. Jorvan and Valgarr are making documents to take over Eldmere. Four weeks until they're ready. They’re talking about forcing Benjamin to sign. Somehow. They need to know."

  Prattle made a soft clicking sound.

  "And..." Merren hesitated. "Tell them I'm sailing for Caladwyth this afternoon. Going to get King William's support for Cocky's claim. Tell them to lie low, be smart, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." He looked at the bird seriously. "And Prattle? I want you to stay. Help them. They'll need your help."

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  Prattle's feathers ruffled. He made a sound that might have been protest.

  "I know, I know. You love the smuggler life. But they need you more than I do right now. Just for a bit. I'll be back in a few weeks." Merren's voice softened. "And I know you've taken a shine to that musician fellow. Dain. Don't think I haven't noticed."

  Prattle turned his head away, the picture of avian indignation.

  "Oh, stop it. You're transparent as glass." Merren smiled. "Go on. Give them the news. Stay with them. Keep them out of trouble if you can. Which you probably can't, but try anyway."

  Prattle launched from the rail, circled once, then headed toward the city.

  Merren watched him go, then called to his crew. "Right then! Let's get this ship ready to sail! We leave for Caladwyth with the tide!"

  ***

  The hayloft was cramped.

  Seren sat with her back against the wall, Stormdrink across her lap. Ink dozed beside her, head on Seren's thigh.

  Kith lay in the far corner, ears twitching at every sound from the street below.

  Cocky paced. Three steps one way, three steps back. His iridescent feathers caught the light filtering through the gaps in the boards.

  Dain sat near the ladder with his legs hanging over the edge and his fingers absently working through a chord progression on his lute. He didn’t make the instrument sing.

  "He's been pacing for an hour," Kith muttered.

  "I know," Seren said quietly.

  "It's driving me mad."

  "I know."

  Cocky turned, paced back the other way. "We should be DOING something. Every minute we wait—"

  "We don't have a plan yet," Seren said, voice patient. "Rushing in gets us caught."

  “Okay. No. Standing around panicking is not a plan.” Kith said as she ticked points off on her fingers. “We need disguises. We need a map. We need a distraction. And ideally we stop standing in the open like idiots before someone notices we’re a walking conspiracy.”

  A flutter of wings and then a grey head popped through the small round window. Prattle landed on a hay bale with a triumphant clicking sound.

  "Prattle!" Dain pulled his legs up. "What news?"

  The jackdaw hopped closer, head tilting. Then, in Merren's voice—perfect mimicry—he spoke:

  "Jorvan and Valgarr are making documents to take over Eldmere."

  Everyone went still.

  Prattle continued, still in Merren's voice: "Four weeks until they're ready. If Benjamin won’t sign willingly they’ll make him sign."

  Cocky's legs wobbled. He sat down hard. "Four weeks."

  Prattle hopped onto Dain's shoulder, made a pleased clicking sound, and preened. Message delivered. Job done.

  Silence in the hayloft.

  "Four weeks," Cocky repeated. His voice cracked. "Four weeks."

  "Then we have four weeks to let him know that Eldmere’s true king is alive," Seren said, standing. "Or stop them. Or something."

  "How?" Kith's ears were flat. "We can't even get close to the palace without being spotted. We're hiding in a hayloft. What are we supposed to—"

  "We get a message to him," Dain cut in. "Let him know Cocky's alive. At least then he’ll have hope."

  "How do we get a message into the palace?" Kith demanded.

  "Pip," Seren said immediately. "Her mother works there. She knows the palace. She could—"

  "She's eight," Kith said.

  "She's smart. And brave. And she knows things we don't." Seren looked at Cocky. "It's worth trying. Better than sitting here doing nothing."

  Cocky's feathers puffed slightly. "You're right. We have to try. Even if—" His voice caught. "Even if it's dangerous. Benjamin needs to know I'm alive. Needs to know we're coming for him."

  "Then we need Pip," Dain said, standing. "I'll go find her."

  "Not alone," Seren said.

  She looked around the group, assessing.

  "Dain—you're fine. No one's looking for you specifically."

  "Ink—fine, as long as she's not seen with me. They might connect us."

  "Kith—probably fine?”

  "Cocky—definitely can't be seen. Especially not near Kith. That would cause problems."

  "Me—I don't know how well I've been identified. Better not wander around Eldmere without purpose."

  Kith's ears perked up. "So Dain, Ink, and I go find Pip. You and Cocky stay here?"

  "Until you find her then send for us. I need to get out of this hayloft." Seren looked at Prattle. "Can you help? Fly ahead, scout the route, make sure it's safe? And come get us when you’ve located Pip?"

  Prattle made an agreeable clicking sound.

  "Cocky should be there. It'll mean more coming from him." Seren said. “Thought that’s a bit more dangerous.”

  "Then we need disguises for you two," Dain said thoughtfully. "Something that lets you move through the city without being recognized."

  "I'll wear my cloak," Seren said. "Hood up. Just another traveler."

  "And me?" Cocky asked. "I'm a little conspicuous."

  They looked at each other.

  "Basket?" Kith suggested. "Covered basket?"

  "Sack?" Dain offered.

  "Wait." Seren's eyes brightened, she pointed down to something in the stables. "That handcart. Filled with straw. You hide in the straw, I push the cart. Just a woman moving supplies. No one looks twice."

  Cocky's beak opened, then closed. "That... could work."

  Dain headed for the door. "Right then. Kith, Ink, Prattle—let's go find Pip. You two stay here. We'll be back soon."

  Then they were gone—Dain, Kith, Ink, and Prattle disappearing down the ladder.

  Seren and Cocky sat in the quiet hayloft, listening to the sounds of the city below.

  Four weeks.

  Four weeks to save Benjamin.

  Four weeks to save Eldmere.

  It had to be enough.