Seaweed Man pulled a gem from his pouch and showed it to Aycenia. “I sense that there are more of these on this island. Though I can’t pinpoint where.”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I’ve seen bits of these before.”

A hungry glint flashed across his eyes. “Where?”

“Upon the crown of Thrunefang’s king.”

“Ah. Very well.” Seaweed Man replaced his pouch of gems to his waist and walked off without offering explanation or a word of goodbye, heading south.

“Doing it alone is suicide,” Lilian called after him. He stopped. “Don’t be stupid. Staying with a group only ups your chances of survival. And success.”

“Time to fight some cannibals then?” Alton scoffed before asking Aycenia, “How far away is their tribe from this place again?”

“Travelling only by day and without my assistance? Two days’ time, roughly.”

Nakoda raised his hand. “You met the king cannibal? What’s he like?”

“I’ve met several of the ‘kings’, as they’ve called themselves,” she said sadly. “By this point I believe they are…five generations along? Perhaps six? They pass down the king’s crown.” She glanced at Seaweed Man. “The gem decorating it appears to be a sliver of a larger piece. The rest must be hidden away where even I cannot see. Perhaps magically veiled by the elder witch who counsels the tribe. She and one of the king’s predecessor entered my territory once, long ago. Tried to convert me to their cause.” A snort of derision escaped her lips. I’m not sure if she realized she’d made it. “They wanted to transform me into a trap. One for wayward souls. Grant them shelter…And then watch as the tribe kill and bathe in the blood of those who though themselves safe in my company…Entrusted me with the little embers of hope they had left…”

She shook her head. “That is why they see me as a devil. Because I shunned their baptism.” Aycenia crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed at her shoulders with hands, as if the air had suddenly turned cold. “Their current king is strange. The entire tribe is going stranger. Well, stranger. Stranger with each generation, but no less dangerous.” She hesitated before asking Seaweed Man, “But what is the significance of these stones to you? What do you stand to gain from stealing the king’s crown?”

“It’s connected to my guardian?” he answered. He remained standing a ways from the group, hand resting on the pouch at his hip.

“Could your guardian be the god they now worship?”

“Likely not.”

“Not to interrupt,” Lilian interjected. “But I will anyway. The king and his crown can wait. Even the lovesick ghost’s curse is manageable and predictable. We can’t predict the Flying Shadow, especially now that we’ve ‘earned’ its attention. We can’t risk fighting enemies on multiple fronts.”

“Actually,” Belkross grunted, gesturing widely to the rest of the clearing, “this clearing would be a decent place to box it in.”

Lilian nodded and said, more to herself. “We could prep things for our benefit. Create catapults…”

“What is the Shadow’s relationship with these cannibals?” Seaweed Man asked Aycenia.

“The tribe is submissive to it. They give it sacrifice and it does not attack them.”

“So they can summon it?”

“No, no, no. Think of it like a storm. You leave out offerings, the storm comes, takes the offerings, and does not come back for a very long time.”

Seaweed Man scoffed. “That’s not how storm sacrifices work.”

“My point being,” the dryad’s polite tone noticeably cracked, “that the tribe purposely present themselves as weak, and thus the Flying Shadow barely acknowledges them as an occasional source of food.”

While they spoke, Lilian walked over to Paco. “Paco,” she said, “have you ever made traps before?”

“Sure. Use traps to get food all the time.”

“Specifically for something big?”

He shrugged a shoulder while setting aside a large slice of goat meat. “With enough material, yeah. I could.”

Overhearing them, Aycenia frowned and told them, her words careful, “I could call to it, the Shadow. Just as I can soothe the wild life, I can riot them up. I wouldn’t be able to touch the Shadow specifically, but I can put out a call. If it flies too close, it become enraged and come for me. The creature is incredibly strong-willed. I’ve tried to soothe it in the past. All I received in response was wave of disdain. Knowing that I was far, far beneath its notice. And the promise that if I tried to touch its mind again it would…” She glanced back at her blood-stained tree. “Uproot me.”

“But if the Shadow’s like this,” Nakoda said, shifting uncomfortably, “wants a challenge, why didn’t it go after the Grey God and the Greys?”

“The Grey God was unnatural,” Aycenia murmured, still staring at her tree. “And thus beyond the Shadow’s understanding. Nature the Shadow understands. Survival of the fittest it understands. The Grey God…” She shuddered and looked back at us. “But you took care of it. With so, so much fire.”

“So the trap,” Paco said to Lilian, “what did you have in mind?”

She touched her chin. “Well, if we could keep the monster from flying, that’d be a huge benefit. So, some sort of snare, perhaps?”

Paco glanced over his shoulder, past her, to the clearing’s edge. “Hmmm…Could work. Maybe dig a pit to go along with it…Tree Lady, do you know if the Shadow is resistant to venom?”

“I do not believe so,” Aycenia answered.

“Good. We can use those fangs we got from the snakes, try and poison it. That’ll give us another advantage. We’ll need all that we can get, otherwise this thing’ll tear us apart in a fair fight.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Lilian murmured, looking troubled. Surprisingly, she turned to Alton next. “I read plenty of books growing up. There was one about a high seas adventure, and in it the sailors used a special shot to destroy masts. Shooting cannonballs with a chain tethering them together. Do you think that could work against the Shadow’s wings.”

Alton raked a hand through his hair as he considered it. “Maybe if we scavenge one of the ships on the coast, get us a cannon…but the real tricky thing will be the change in target type.”

“How do you mean?”

“Usually you’re trying to hit a big, slow-moving ship. Not a swooping demon in the sky.” Alton showed her his hands. “Not saying its bad idea. Just pointing out that this isn’t ship-to-ship combat. More like monster hunting.”

On that optimistic note, the group splintered off not too long after that. It was mostly to figure out the most viable position to lay the trap. With Aycenia’s aid, Lilian and Belkross went to work properly scouting the clearing. They eventually came across a game-changing find: a cliff. To the east the clearing tapered off into the cliff. It was roughly fifty feet high, overlooking another, smaller clearing surrounded by more trees. Lilian, Belkross, Paco, Alton, and even Seaweed Man quickly grouped together to properly devise the best way to take advantage of the terrain. Meanwhile, Nakoda…chatted amiably with Aycenia, asking her what being a tree is like. Never change, Brother. Never change.

The next step was finding a ship to loot for a cannon. One that we could reach before nightfall without fear of the ghost attacking us. Aycenia managed to locate one called the Seastrike. Paco and Turtle stayed behind to collect vines for a makeshift net while the rest of us set off immediately at daybreak. As we set off, I kept glancing up at the sky. There was no sign of the Shadow, but its presence lingered in the air. Like evil, hateful eyes glaring down at me.

Thanks to Aycenia’s magic and the group having grown more accustomed to adventuring through the jungle, we made great time. The sound of crashing waves and the smell of salt filled the air as we approached the wreck. The jungle suddenly gave way to a steep broken-shell-covered hill. The Seastrike was impossible to miss. It was mostly intact thanks to one major factor. Or really, multiple, large factors.

Beyond the ship were a cluster of giant crabs. The same kind of crab that Pezock had used to make his hut. They huddled together, acting as a dam against the waves, keeping them from beating at the ship. They had come tougher as a vanguard to protect the Seastrike.

A vanguard where each member had claws big enough to cut a grown man-or donkey/unicorn-in half.