Magic drove the hull forward, cleaving through waves and leaving a white wake that stretched in a clean line northward.
They stood at the bow. The wind hit harder out here than on shore, snapping their coats and tugging at loose fabric.
Blue in every direction. Blue sky, blue sea. Only the occasional seabird cutting across the distance broke the purity of it.
Regulus leaned against the railing, one hand resting on the rail, eyes forward.
Freya stood beside him. She hadn't spoken, but she'd been there the whole time.
He could feel her glance landing on him now and then, studying him, turning something over in her mind. He pretended not to notice.
Time passed.
They'd left at dawn. The sun had climbed to its midpoint now, and the ship moved fast. More than half the distance was behind them.
He turned to her. "Freya, will there be fighting?"
She turned to meet his gaze. "There will."
"Scared?"
"That spell the other night," he said, steering the conversation where he wanted it. "The Decomposition Curse. It has two forms."
Something shifted in her eyes.
"The first you've seen. Grey-green beam, single-target, concentrated force." He paused. "The second you haven't."
He looked at her. "The second form has no color and no sound. Area-of-effect. The delivery medium is Infrasound, below the threshold of human hearing. Once it disperses, everything within the affected zone takes damage."
Freya held his gaze. Confusion flickered first: why was he bringing this up now?
Then understanding landed. Area-of-effect. No distinction between friend and foe.
If he used the second form in combat, she'd be inside the kill zone. He was giving her advance warning.
She said nothing, watching him with something new in her expression. Curiosity, or something adjacent to it.
But her thoughts had veered elsewhere.
A spell of that caliber, with that effect, and completely invisible and silent on top of it, detectable only through experience or raw magical perception...
There was no polite way to put it. The thing was vicious.
Her gaze turned contemplative.
Regulus noticed and had no idea what she was thinking, only that it was probably nothing flattering.
He let it go.
He continued. "The defense is straightforward. Protego can weaken the effect. A Bubble-Head Charm can block it entirely, but it needs to envelop the whole body."
It wasn't much of a sacrifice, telling her. Anyone lucky enough to survive the first encounter could probably reason their way to the same conclusions with enough thought.
But the spell's defining advantage was the element of surprise. If you didn't know an invisible, silent killing curse existed, you wouldn't think to defend against it.
By the time you knew, you were already dead.
He looked at her. "If there's a fight and I'm going to use it, I'll warn you first. Get your defenses up before I cast."
Freya nodded, firmly, with deliberate weight.
"When I cast," she said, "I'll tell you too."
Regulus nodded back and waited for the rest. What spells. How to defend.
The rest never came.
You're going to tell me you're casting, but not what you're casting? Not how to protect myself?
Blue fire?
How was he supposed to guard against that?
He studied her with the same contemplative look she'd given him a moment ago.
Freya shifted under his gaze, broke eye contact, and turned to face forward.
A speck had appeared on the distant water.
Regulus followed her line of sight.
The speck grew, its outline sharpening.
An island.
They'd arrived.
The ship sat on open water. They could see the island, which meant the island could see them.
Dark figures rose from the building cluster, mounted on brooms, moving fast, flying straight toward the ship.
The distance shrank. Five hundred meters. Three hundred. One hundred.
Regulus counted seven riders, all in matching dark grey robes, all wearing Bone Masks inscribed with twisted runes.
The one in front he recognized. One of the two who'd fought Freya that night. The leader of the pair. After his partner had fallen to the Decomposition Curse, this one had coordinated with the remaining masked figure to chant that long incantation, unleash Mental Erosion, and retreat.
Meeting again wasn't a surprise.
The seven halted thirty meters from the bow, spread in a line, hovering, broom tails angled slightly downward for balance.
The ship stopped.
Regulus didn't move to attack.
This was between the Abyssal Whispers and the Eisenhardt Family. He suspected the whole affair was primarily about him, but if the play was running, he'd play his part.
For now, he was outside help brought in by the Eisenhardts. Hired muscle. Negotiation was Freya's department.
If there was negotiation.
Magic stirred inside him. His wand slid into his palm, held low, not raised, but the tip already glowed faintly. Ready state. One thought from activation.
He glanced at Freya. She hadn't attacked either.
Across the gap, the lead figure flew forward alone. The other six held position.
Enough distance between them. Loose formation. Nothing resembling an encirclement.
Not a combat formation.
The leader drifted to a stop just off the bow, five meters from Regulus and Freya. For wizards, that was close.
He hovered there, broom bobbing gently, and settled.
"The Eisenhardt Family...
You truly won't hand over the maritime document?"
Freya stood at the prow, wand at her side, not raised.
"Nothing belonging to the Eisenhardt Family has ever been surrendered under duress. There is no precedent."
Something steely ran through the words. Pride in the name she carried, and the unshakable confidence behind it.
Regulus glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
"Precedents exist to be broken." No emotion in the masked voice.
"We're prepared to share the results. The document contains coordinates pointing to a lost ruin deep in the North Sea. If the legends hold true, what's hidden inside could change a great many things."
"No."
"You've kept it for decades," the masked figure said. "Never used it. Stored it away without unlocking its value. Doesn't that seem like a waste?"
Freya didn't answer.
The figure pressed on. "We only need to see it once. Confirm the coordinates. Open the ruin. Whatever's inside, we split evenly. The Eisenhardt Family loses nothing and gains wealth that would otherwise stay buried."
"No."
The same word. The same tone.
The masked figure paused. "Why?"
Freya didn't speak again.
She stood there, eyes locked on him, face utterly blank. The posture said everything. There was nothing to discuss.
The air between the two sides thickened.
Regulus listened to the exchange, his mind working.
The document was tied to opening a ruin?
He'd assumed it was an old maritime record, perhaps charting lost sea routes or the location of some hidden magical trove.
This was more than that.
The masked figure spoke of coordinates, but they wouldn't be ordinary ones.
The North Sea was vast. Vast enough that Muggle fleets could sail into it and lose their bearings.
Wizards were different.
Broomsticks, Apparition, Portkeys, High mobility and an arsenal of tracking magic meant a wizard could find a specific point in open ocean, provided that point could be marked somehow.
Yet the Abyssal Whispers still needed the document. And they only needed to see it once.
He pulled his thoughts back. The negotiation had clearly collapsed. He was about to ready himself when the masked figure turned toward him.