“No.” Hestia folds her arms, and sets her jaw at a particularly stubborn angle. That blasted Wyck sighs in a most dramatic fashion, hands on his narrow hips and his blue eyes rolling in exasperation.

“Get off the ship,” he orders.

“No.”

“Hester, darling -”

“Hestia, you blathering, idiotic, worthless -”

“You are the only one who can read this particular map in this particular book, and how many chances do you think you’ll have to visit the Isle of the Monks of the Golden Dragon? Off you get, now, there’s my girl!”

“Don’t touch me,” Hestia bites off in her most frigid tone. “I am not getting off this floating death trap.”

“Hattie…” Wyck half moans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Hestia!” She hisses, fists tightly clinched at her sides.

“Monster!” Captain Lugdlo bellows, stomping at a bit of seaweed with his peg leg. “Kill it, kill it dead!”

“You’re all mad,” Hestia announces firmly. “Now take me home!”

And that is how she ends up tossed over the shoulder of Wyck the Wonder Worker.