In the Captain's Room of the Narwhal, the lamplight swayed with the rolling of the waves, casting Charles's and Bandage's faces in shifting patches of brightness and shadow.
TAP... TAP-TAP-TAP... Bandage silently and swiftly wrote on a piece of white paper with Charles's fountain pen.
Soon, a humanoid figure formed from a bizarre, curving script appeared before them. This was the same thing Bandage had drawn in his shadow before—it was what had allowed them to escape the island safely.
"Bandage, can you tell me what this thing actually does?" Charles asked, gazing gravely at his first mate.
Although he desperately wanted to deny that he was a monster, Charles knew he had to face it eventually. There was no escape.
"I... don't know..." Bandage quietly capped the pen and wedged it between two books to prevent it from rolling away with the ship's rocking.
"How can you not know? You're the one who drew it. Or have you forgotten where you learned how again?"
