She nodded regarding the location ship, but her attention affixed plainly to Jaskier's report. Easternhold. Dusk. Jakten No promises or handshakes, not even a particular confidence. Doubly disappointing, now, when she was desperate for eyes and ears in all places.

The kids. Lonán could not walk without trouble and frost would be upon them soon enough. The boy might hide his ailments well. She was his mother, and a cutthroat besides who's trade relied upon reading subtle tells. Would it benefit him to see a lost inheritance? To weaken him on a great journey for nostalgia's sake?

And crooked-leg Toad — she'd not made it to Tianlong's summons in the best of conditions. She ailed doubly from weak breathing, illness flared sharply without warning. How easily Lyra could have lost a third!

There's news ye ought t'be wise to on our part, as well. The Captain broached quietly. Sorry she kept to herself. But anger, displeasure, they were easy to wear. Mal took Newt an' Frog out fer a lark. Weeks past. Not been back, no word sent. No scent t'follow. The truth of what that meant she held self-evident.

Toad's been laid up wit' an affliction o'lung. She's recoverin' in body, but 'er spirits is flaggin'. She reckons Da an' 'er sister's left 'er behind. Lyra wasn't sure which fate was worse to let the maggot believe in.

She was reminded again of grating sensations: of utter unpreparedness to be a parent. Now she sailed that ship alone through the storm.

We needed allies. Judgement simmered, a shark testing the waters. (Easier to be angry that Jaskier hadn't brought twenty-odd strangers barreling down her door than to face all the rest she was so helpless to avert or belay.)