“That’s an odd place to hide a thing,” intoned the master, “on account of it wouldn’t be hidden.”

Alix looked at Gally uncertainly and found her staring back with a matching expression. It did seem awfully convenient, the ear trumpet just lying out like that for anyone to find. But if Chiss wasn’t the thief…

“I certainly hope you’re discussing the location of my jewels,” said Cloth-of-Gold, standing at the rail with his hands clasped behind his back in a pose of command. Alix hadn’t heard him come up the steps.

“The girls reckon Chiss took ’em,” said Captain Axe. “Guess we snagged the wrong fellow.”

“I cannot express how little I care about your error,” Cloth-of-Gold said. “Just be prompt about ‘snagging’ this Chiss and demanding the return of my belongings.”

“I’d be pleased to, your honor, only I’m a mite busy what with bringing sweet Mari into harbor and all. All the rings in the world won’t do you no good at the bottom of the sea—if you’ll pardon me saying so.” With that, Captain Axe returned his attention to his quartermaster and his vessel.

“Well! I’ve never been so—I should say—if only—well!” Cloth-of-Gold fixed Alix with an imperious stare. “You have a rough and ready look to you. Come along and help me detain Chiss.”

“My ears are burning,” said Chiss, seeming to rise into view as she ascended the companionway. “They only do that when someone accuses me of theft.”

“Proves it, rather,” said Cloth-of-Gold. He gestured at Gally. “Go on, girl, show her the bishop’s implement.”

Alix, thinking the phrase “show her the bishop’s implement” sounded rather bawdy, swallowed a chortle. Gally gestured with the ear trumpet and said, “We found this in your cabin. Did you use it to listen at Cloth-of-Gold’s door?”

“That thing? All covered in an old man’s wax?” Chiss cocked an eyebrow. “Lords Above, I wouldn’t stick that in my ear-hole for all the trees in Lorenelin.”

The thunder of loose canvas interrupted them, drawing every eye to the foresail as it passed sideways to the breeze. Captain Axe was backing the ship, settings its sails so the wind would take the way off Mariamber like a carter checking his horses.

“We’ll be on land soon,” Alix whispered to Gally. “The harbor’ll have a pilot out here quick as you like to lead us to our anchorage.”

Gally looked at her helplessly. “I know. Something’s off about all this, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. Maybe Chiss did steal the jewels.” She sighed. “Alix, I have to admit something: I’ve been a little restless on this trip. I haven’t had a single chance to sing, and I’m keeping my mind entertained by seeing complexity where there is none. I’m sorry I hid it from you.”

“You didn’t.” Alix grabbed Gally’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Why do you think I pushed you to grapple with this mystery? The fault’s mine, darling. You’re on vacation. You shouldn’t be sleuthing.”

Gally smiled. “No, I appreciate what you did. At least it was interesting for a while, even if the denouement is unsatisfying.”

“My ears are burning again,” said Chiss.

“I only wish you’d tell us how you hid them,” Alix told her. “For mental gratification, like. That was a proper finding spell the elf cast. There ain’t much that can defy that.”

Chiss shrugged. A silence fell, broken only by the flap of the foresail and the gentle creaking of timber.

Gally slapped Alix on the arm so hard it stung. “You genius! You beautiful, brilliant—” She clapped her hands on Alix’s cheeks and planted a long kiss on her. When they finally broke apart, Gally turned to the staring group. “Listen well, friends, and I’ll tell you the story of a thieving priest…”

“I told you I didn’t do it!” said Father Ubb, rubbing his wrists as he made his way stolidly up to the quarterdeck. “They only just unchained me. You can bet I’ll be lodging a complaint with the harbormaster.”

“Not you,” Gally said. She pointed across the maindeck to where Bishop Draskis stood at the bow, staring at the Isles of Azure with an air of desperate longing. “Him.”

It wasn’t long before the whole little band was assembled around the mainmast, Ubb looking defiant, Chiss blasé, and Cloth-of-Gold a little baffled. Bishop Draskis, having been dragged to the quarterdeck by Captain Axe’s trusty heavies, wrung his bony hands compulsively.

“I never believed Father Ubb took the rings,” Gally began. “How could he have? Cloth-of-Gold woke the moment Ubb set foot in his cabin, and Ubb’s path to the maindeck was blocked. But if not Ubb, then who? He was the only one motivated to throw the jewels overboard, and if they were still aboard Mariamber, Cloth-of-Gold’s finding spell should have revealed them.”

“Eh?” said Bishop Draskis, leaning in.

“My brilliant girlfriend figured it out,” Gally went on. Alix figured that was pretty far off the mark, but opted to let it ride. “She heard a rat scratching around in Draskis’s ear trumpet, which led us to find it in Chiss’s room.”

“So she did it!” cried Draskis, who’d apparently heard that bit just fine.

“No, you tried to frame her. I suspected someone had from the moment we found the trumpet—it seemed awfully sloppy of Chiss to leave it rolling around on the floor—but I couldn’t imagine why. It seemed odd, too, that the framer wouldn’t try to make it look more believable. Then Alix clued me in.”

“One tries one’s best,” said Alix with the utmost modesty.

Gally reached out and squeezed her hand. “One succeeds.” She pinned Bishop Draskis with an accusing stare. “You didn’t take out your ear trumpet to frame Chiss. Not originally. You took it out because you needed the pouch.”

“This old thing?” said Draskis quaveringly, tapping the leather bag at his hip.

“That old thing,” said Gally. “Where you keep your ear trumpet, because otherwise, it would constantly be amplifying the sounds around you. Just as it did to the rat Alix heard.”

“No, no.” Draskis waved his hands. “Just a regular old pouch, this!”

“If the pouch is enchanted to block the ear trumpet’s listening magic, then it can likely stymie other magical senses. Like, for example, Cloth-of-Gold’s finding spell.”

“Open that pouch,” said Captain Axe. More sailors than ever posed behind him.

Bishop Draskis looked at the pouch, looked helplessly back at the ring of accusatory faces surrounding him, and said, “I was going to give them back, I swear it! I wasn’t stealing the Sea King’s Eyes, I just didn’t want our ship to get dragged below by tentacles, that’s all. Father Ubb isn’t the only one who’s heard the stories of Pantelever’s vengeance. My church teaches them as a sort of parable of warning, telling how—well, anyway, you’re right, bard. My pouch blocks all sorts of sensing magic. So I stuck the jewels in there, only there wasn’t enough room for both them and my ear trumpet, so out it came. I never planned on framing Chiss. It was only after you wouldn’t let it rest that I had to do something to put you off my scent.”

“You were going to give them back?” asked Alix, folding her arms across her chest. A few of Axe’s sailors took threatening steps forward.

“Eventually,” said Draskis weakly.

The whine of a bosun’s pipe interrupted the scene. The harbor pilot was coming through the entry port, accompanied by a half-dozen tough-looking women Alix knew to be the Azure Guard.

“Ha!” crowed Father Ubb. “Justice has come for you, you dusty old bat.”

“The both of you,” said Captain Axe sternly. “I had my signals mate run up a few flags. Told the harbormaster I had two bad priests ready for an arrest.”

“Me?” Ubb gulped. “But I didn’t do anything!”

“You tried to,” Alix said.

“Breaking the trust of a vessel at sea is a serious thing,” said Axe. “But we’ll let the justiciar sort that all out.”

Axe’s sailors chivvied the priests down to the maindeck, where the Azure Guard looked all too happy to take them into custody. As Father Ubb climbed down the rope ladder to the waiting longboat, Bishop Draskis right behind him, the two got back to bickering.

“I wouldn’t have been caught if not for your meddling,” Draskis was saying.

“I wouldn’t have bothered sneaking into the elf’s cabin if I knew you already had the jewels,” Ubb shot back.

“I wouldn’t have had to steal them if you weren’t planning to toss them into the sea…”

Then the sailors in the longboat set to their oars, the creak of timber and the flap of sails covered the priests’ chatter, and the wind carried their argument away.