“And how long do you think it would take you to learn to sail on your own?” he asked. “Particularly in such dangerous seas? You could spend years.”
“Maybe that’s what I need to do.”
“Or maybe,” he said, “you need to acknowledge something far harder, Tress. That your friend is out of your reach. That you should give up on this quest and take care of yourself.”
She didn’t respond, though the anger she felt at his words manifested in the vines tightening on her fingers—as if they too were frustrated.
She forced herself to relax as Huck dribbled another spoonful of water on the vines. He was getting better at balancing on two legs as he assisted her—he’d needed to do that far more often with her than he had in his past.
“Tress,” he said, “I don’t like to see you sad, but I’d hate to see you get hurt. What you’ve done here on the Crow’s Song is incredible, but it’s still leagues away from the dangers you’d face on the Midnight Sea.”
“Is it? Nobody knows! I’ve asked Fort, Salay, and even Ulaam. They all tell me that the Midnight Sea is dangerous, but nobody can say why. They just know that the ‘Sorceress watches’ those spores. Ships that go there vanish. There’s maybe something about monsters? Nobody can say for certain.”
Huck dribbled more water. Then he sighed softly. “Remember how I went ashore at the last port?”
“How could I forget? You’ve told me six stories about it so far.”
“I…left out the most important one.”
Tress glanced up. The four vines curling around her fingers turned their tips, like heads, to regard Huck.
“I went looking for the rat population,” Huck explained, setting down the spoon and wringing his paws. “There are some of us on most islands these days. Talking rats, I mean. With a little work, I found one who had visited the Sorceress’s island. Before you ask, he didn’t know the way. He simply happened to be on a ship that visited. But…he did relate to me the dangers they faced.”
“And you weren’t going to tell me?” Tress said, her four vines growing upward with a sharp, sudden motion, like spikes.
“I didn’t want to encourage you!” Huck said. “I’m worried about you, Tress. But maybe if you know the dangers, you’ll see how difficult it’s going to be.”
（Fun tip: Being told “I kept you in the dark to protect you” is not only frustrating, but condescending as well. It’s a truly economical way to demean someone; if you’re looking to fit more denigration into an already busy schedule, give it a try.）
Tress was able, with effort, to appreciate Huck’s sentiment. And fortunately—like the girl who asked the suddenly quiet room of people if they wanted to see her tattoo—he realized that there was no turning back now.
“There are three trials one needs to face to reach the Sorceress,” Huck said. “I guess she likes things to be dramatic. Anyway, the first is the most obvious. You have to cross the Midnight Sea.”
“Which we can do,” Tress said, “now that Hoid has pointed out the way for us to go.”
“You know where to go, yes,” Huck said, “but Tress, don’t you understand? Rain falls in the Midnight Sea like everywhere else. The Sorceress has rigged up some way to continuously feed the creatures that pop out of the spores. They roam and rove the oceans—midnight monsters the size of ships. You remember that thing you created to watch Crow? You think you could fight a hundred of those attacking the ship?”
That…did seem daunting. The vines on Tress’s fingers wriggled down, hiding behind her palm.
“If you survive that,” Huck said, “you have to face the Sorceress’s guardians: a force of metal men that live on her island. They’re completely indestructible, impervious to all kinds of weapon fire, and are relentless.
“They capture anyone who sets foot on the island, then imprison them. Captives don’t even get to meet the Sorceress—so don’t think that’s a way to get her attention. I’m told she thinks anyone foolish enough to get captured by the guardians is beneath her notice.”
Huh. Getting captured on purpose had been one of the plans Tress was considering.
“And if you somehow escape them,” Huck said, “you’ll never reach the Sorceress. She lives in a tower made of an indestructible metal. It is so slick it cannot be scaled, and nothing will stick to it. She stands atop it in the evenings to commune with the moons, but there are only two ways in. Through doors locked by mysterious means, or through the small window where her ravens travel in and out, doing her bidding.