Three days later, the sea was as calm as a polished stone slab.
Morgan stood at the edge of the pier. The burned holes in the front of his coat were still there, while he had stitched up the frayed cuff again. The stitches were crude but sturdy. He had no luggage beside him, only a waterskin hanging at his waist. He wore the same boots he had worn when the Enforcement Squad left, with fragments of reef stuck along their soles now dried into a pale gray crust.
When the speedboat emerged from beyond the fog line, it rode higher in the water than expected—there were fewer people aboard than last time. Morgan tightened the stopper on his waterskin and hung it back at his waist, then stood on the pier's stone bollard and watched the boat approach. When the mooring rope was tossed over, he caught it, looped it around the bollard, and secured it before stepping forward two paces to meet them.
He deliberately made himself seem half an inch shorter than usual—his shoulders drawn slightly inward, his chin lowered, his eyes fixed on the boat's waterline rather than the faces aboard.
Even the way he caught the rope was unlike the crisp one-handed grab of a guard on duty. He cupped it in both hands before looping it over the bollard, looking inexplicably cautious.
The first person ashore was that Auror captain. Gray stubble covered his chin, his badge sat perfectly straight on his chest, and the creases in his coat were clearly freshly pressed, as though it had been ironed with magic before he put it on.
As he stepped onto the stone pier, his boot came down on the patch of ground beside Morgan's feet, splashing a small puddle over Morgan's trouser leg—it was