The patrons looked at us with open interest. In comparison to most of them, we were finely and overdressed. Rivyn was accustomed to being stared at, he attracted attention with his height and the breadth of his shoulders, and his unusual astonishing beauty, and he walked to the bar indifferent to their speculation. “We’re looking to book a ship.”
“A whole ship, or a berth upon one?” the inn keeper looked amused.
“It depends on whether the vessel passes the point I want to get off,” Rivyn replied. “I want to dive to the wreck of the Hirewyn DeaLothe.”
“Fae ship,” one of the men muttered. “Best left alone.”
“Strange things happen in that patch of the ocean,” another man at the bar said into his tankard. “Ships sail around that point.”
“It’s impossible to dive to,” a man stra
