172
The crowd on the docks began shoving, swarming toward the moored ships like ants from a disturbed nest.
Someone glanced back at the sky, only to stumble as someone behind him crashed into him-the lead-gray clouds hung so low they almost scraped the spire of the ruined fortress on the island**.
Blinding streaks occasionally darted through the clouds, not lightning, but more like sparks thrown off by metal threads rubbing together at high speed, accompanied by fine crackles that set teeth on edge.
"The third brother and the others..."
The man in the gold-embroidered coat swallowed, choking back the rest of his words.
The man beside him, called Ye Zong, merely grinned, revealing tobacco-yellowed teeth.
"If they're dead, they're dead."
Ye Zong's voice was flat, as though he were discussing someone else's business. "These days, living to old age is the real rarity.
"Those offspring of mine scattered all over the place might end up feeding the Sea Kings any day now-count on them to support me in old age? I'd be better off hoping the tavern owner knocks a couple of drinks off my tab."
He did not look at his companion as he spoke. His gaze rested on the warship gilded by the sunset on the distant sea.
The figurehead reflected a dazzling brilliance that almost seared the retinas.
Ochoku placed a hand on Ye Zong's shoulder.
The bones beneath the fabric were hard enough to dig into his palm.
"There are still three of us."
Ochoku spoke.
The instant his sleeve swept aside, an invisible ripple spread through the air. The muddy water between the dock's paving stones suddenly began floating against gravity, suspended as countless murky beads. "Enough to tear a few chunks of flesh off the Donquixote Family."
Rumors about that Family always carried