The following morning three sailors rowed out to Eblis Island from the ship.

They wouldn't have seen the body but for the birds perched upon it. They tossed a coin to decide which of them should swim to the Island and drag the body back to the boat. It was not the body they were afraid of. It was the island.

The man who lost was a good swimmer. He reached the shore quickly, shooed the birds away, and dragged the body off the rocks into the water. He floated it out to the boat.

When they got to Devils Island Jaggles came down the beach to meet them. He looked in the corpse's face.

"How'd he die?" he said, to none of the sailors in particular.

"Drowned," one of them said.

"Where're his eyes?"

"Birds."

Jaggles wrinkled his nose. "I'll bury him."

"We'll have to report this," the oldest sailor said. He had a grizzled beard, and pale eyes that never left Jaggles.

"Guess so," Jaggles said. He began to drag the body up the beach. He didn't spare a look for the sailors, but they watched his progress for a moment before climbing back into the rowboat and pushing out into the water. The black sailing ship was moored at the entrance to the cove like a fat spider waiting in the funnel of its web. An hour later it was gone.

Jaggles buried the body behind the house, swearing when the shovel struck rock, fine sand filtering down into the hole almost as fast as he could shovel it out. He marked the grave with a stone and returned to the shack without a backwards glance.

*eats frying pan*