Locke led the young captian out of town and along a rocky coast, stepping up onto a large, flat stone and sitting down. The only sounds to be heard were the wind, the waves, and the distant cry of a flock of seagulls.

Selkie sat down on one of the rocks near Locke while trying to pull himself together, "I just can't believe it."

"Me neither." Locke agreed, that bit of irratation returning. He reminded himself to have a long talk with Nathienel later.

"I understand one or two leaving but the entire crew is a bit much," Selkie mutters, "What I remmeber that happened is I told the crew that those who wanted to come with me could and the others may find work where they can. Do you think that caused this?"

Locke shrugged. "What drove 'em away was fear, Laddie. What ye said was jis tha catalyst; Gave 'em an excuse ta leave."

"Oh great so I have no way to get them back," Selkie sighs, "of course. Just my luck."

"It's my ship, Laddie. Ah can disimss 'em anytime." Locke told him. "Ye jis need ta convince 'em yer boat ain't cursed. An' I might have an idea."

"I'm listening."

"Ain't ye friends with an albatross?"

"You mean Edmund,'' Selkie asks.