Lost on a swirling, tumbling sea, the world became a psychedelic dream. Between peaks of waves the sea and sky blended together in a wine-dark maelstrom. Lightning seared the night eyes with hallucinations of color, and in the growl of thunder, the howl of wind, the human mind struggled to assign human qualities to the force of nature. It was not unusual to hear voices on the wind, to see faces in the shapes of the clouds and foaming waves. It was an evil night, which tested the wits of all aboard the small craft.<br/><br/>Even for those not at the oars, there was no rest. Rain and spill from the waves needed to be bailed from the ship with precious little but cupped hands for the job.<br/><br/>Zoe could not go on holding Corinne's hand while there was water to bail. But she continued to steal glances Corinne's way, and at last reached her hand into the bag. "The bottle," said Zoe. "Do you have the old bottle?"<br/>Her face was drained. Neither gods nor science had saved them, and the memento to which she attributed such romantic notions at last became just an object.<br/><br/>For the better part of an hour the storm raged, until finally, the rain abated. The waves calmed. Michelle succumbed to fatigue, though her rest was far from peaceful.<br/><br/>"My family is very wealthy," Sage confided under the watch of the stars. "They will reward you handsomely for my return."<br/><br/>"Mademoiselle, you must be tired," said Margaret to Jacqueline. "Let another row. I fear your grip may falter if you continue on like this."<br/><br/>Zoe hung her head in her hands for such a long time that she seemed to pass asleep beside Michelle. Finally, she said, "What is in your notebooks? Let us hear something, to shake our minds from the morbid."<br/><br/>In the second hour, sleep came for Zoe, and Margaret too. Sage remained between bodies looking out at Aloisa, and at Danae, shivering from the damp cold, deep in thought, resolved not to let her eyes close.<br/>"My name is Sage Laporte," she said. "I did not pay you much mind in the saloon, because I was with Brigitte and Jeanne. But you are not crew, nor were you with anyone. Who are you?"<br/><br/>In the third hour, the black sky began to brighten with the dawn. In the distance, a two-masted, gull-prowed caravel cut a course through the sparkling waves.