“Man overboard!” Voleta called from the balustrade. They turned in time to see a flailing figure in a white sheet plummet from the Cairo Hound. They were too distant to hear a cry if one was uttered, but the silence of the spectacle only made it grimmer. No one doubted who it was. Iren broke the moment of quiet reflection. “He was a bad captain.” “But a worse bird,” Voleta said.
