The captain sat heavily on a barrel and pulled out his pipe. As he lit it, the flaring flames cast shadows on his craggy face, highlighting the unnatural contours. Looking up at Francis, he blew out a puff of smoke. “Ye’ve got me attention ,â€? he said. “Now what be this Stone Lady?â€?

Francis leaned against the mass with affected casualness. “They say she’s a powerful sea goddess, trapped in stone. It be said that the ship who sails with the Lady at her bow will n’er see defeat.â€?

Captain Dalley scoffed. Having survived for decades on the unforgiving sea, he knew that there was more than casual superstition that governed the fate of souls on the water. He had worked his way to the top one slit throat at a time, governed by one rule alone; take what you can and give nothing back.

“Don’t talk to me of fairy stories and legend, boy. Be she worth her weight in gold?â€?

Francis smiled, “And then some.”

Narrowing his eyes, the captain blew a ring of smoke, watching as it floated away on the cold breeze.