Was it only coincidence that Tower’s party had set up camp in the very place where all this had begun with the discovery of the map? I hadn’t told Bigsby the truth of where I acquired it, so he hadn’t passed on the information. Perhaps Ivory Blade had researched the map further and other sources had led him here. The cave was located on the western side of the Isle of Fire, a stark landscape of steep, rocky cliffs scoured by ceaseless wind. The waters here are turbulent but deep; a ship can sail within inches of the cliffs if her captain is crazy enough to risk the swirling currents. The cave we aimed for wasn’t the only one along this coastline. The area was riddled with old lava tubes exposed by the churning sea. Most of the caves hold nothing but bird nests; indeed, the sky above was full of feathered creatures in every hue of the rainbow, from tiny finches no larger than my thumb to albatrosses with wingspans longer than my bar tab. The pirate cave was right at sea level; the tides here can rise and fall twenty feet, and when the tide is low the opening of the cave is a long, narrow slash amid jagged stones, just wide enough to sail a good-sized schooner through.
