At sword-point Captain Baykur returned the whip to her hand in a languid spiral. Jacqueline had her attention.<br/>"One sword," said Baykur. "Against the tide."<br/>It proved impossible to track the crew all at once. In every corner of the eye there was another menacing sailor, pacing the deck, making slow progress along the rigging, meaty hands through the deck grating. There seemed to be no question each would die for Baykur, or else a seething anger beyond reckoning that a castaway should command the ship. There was no opportunity to lower the weapon and emerge from this unscathed, now.<br/><br/>"It is because I value the lives of my crew, your woman must be whipped."<br/>As Baykur spoke, a stalwart dock against choppy waters came into view low along the island's broken coast. The<em>Mercy </em>maneuvered expertly through the shoals and between the buoys to reach its destination.<br/>"The patients are dangerous. Your thinking to free them is...wrong, in the head. A madman will not thank you. He will chew, and claw, without reason."<br/>Waiting on that dock were the arrival crew, watching the ship's approach. They had the look of Baykur's sailors, bronzed by the island sun, thick and stocky of build, with keg-bearing shoulders and coconut-crushing hands.<br/>"We return to Doctor Heinfroth now. You will join us. I will not have you roaming the island in this state of confusion. You may come willing in a wagon, or unwilling in a crate."<br/><br/>Doctor Rehner was seated on a step, absorbing the captain's directive. Gingerly her fingertips made contact with her jaw, deep in thought, and occasionally her witch-blooded eyes flit to Corinne and Aloisa. She was inured to this violence, and perfectly at peace with swords drawn.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Corinne's spell</div><div class="spoiler_body">When the spell's energy left Corinne's fingers, it recalled a feeling from her earliest days of her arcane study, when all ingredients of a spell seemed fully accounted and yet the desired effect did not result. As then, it would likely take hours of examination to understand what had gone awry.<br/><br/>What was clear was that the spell did not take hold on Captain Baykur.</div></div><br/><br/>Colleen covered herself in an oversized shirt, and swept back glossy golden hair for the coastal breeze to catch. There was a different feel to it, than the ocean wind whipping the waves to frenzy and assailing with cold, frothing damp. A breeze through the island carried fragrance of fruiting trees and crisp green growth, the dust of sun-drenched land safe from storm. It slowed to a trickle through the cliffs and trees, befitting the pace of island life.<br/><br/>When Captain Baykur finished winding the whip, she spoke in very few words to the crew. A knife approached to cut Danae free, in the same moment the receiving lines cast over to the crew on deck. A sturdy gangplank thumped into the hull to let those aboard disembark.<br/><br/>Sage was the first down it, and into the arms of the dockside drew, hugging, weeping.