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Prologue

Midsummer Day’s sun blazed white in the center of the sky The sky burned blue to the horizon

The flagship of the King crossed abruptly froo of limitless depths

The galleon’s captain shouted orders; the sailors hurried to obey Canvas flapped, then filled; the immense square sails snapped taut in the wind The ship creaked and groaned and leaned into its turn The flag of Louis XIV fluttered, writing Nec Pluribus I’s olden sunburst, shone froalleon’s foretopsail

Free of the treacherous shoals, the galleon plunged ahead Water rushed against the ship’s sides The gilt figurehead stretched its arht and spray Rainbows shimmered from its claws and fro colored light before it, for the glory of the King

Yves de la Croix searched the sea fro the Tropic of Cancer, directly beneath the sun He squinted into Midsummer’s Day and clenched his hands around the topdeck’s rail The galleonthe air on deck still and hot The sun soaked into Yves’ black cassock and drenched his dark hair with heat The tropical sea sparkled and shifted, dazzling and enrapturing the young Jesuit

“Démons!” the lookout cried

Yves searched for what the lookout had spied, but the sun was too bright and the distance too long The ship cut through the waves, rushing, roaring

“There!”

Dead ahead, the ocean roiled Shapes leapt Sleek figures cavorted like dolphins in the sea foam

The flagship sailed toward the turbulent water A siren song, no dolphin’s call, floated through the air The sailors fell into terrified silence

Yves stoodhis excitement He had known he would find his quarry at this spot and on this day; he had never doubted his hypothesis He should meet his success with composure

“The net!“ Captain Desheureux’s shout overwhel “The net, you bastards!”

His co They feared him more than they feared sea monsters, roaned, wood against rope against metal The net clattered over the side A sailor muttered a profane prayer

The creatures frolicked, oblivious to the approaching galleon They breached like dolphins, splashing wildly, churning the sea They caressed each other, twining their tails about one another, singing their ani whipped the ocean into froth

Yves’ excite his resolution Shocked by the intensity of his reaction, he closed his eyes and bowed his head, praying for humble tranquility

The rattle of the net, its heavy cables knocking against the ship’s flank, brought hinored the words, as he had ignored casual profanity and blasphee

Once more his own master, Yves waited, impassive Calmly he noted the details of his prey: their size; their color; their number, much reduced from the horde reported a century before