We didn’t get to see the water on fire—Sinda asked, and Tin said no, and she asked again, and he still said no, which made her pout angrily and stomp her feet as we continued onto his workshop. Kyer and I shared an illicit smirk. If Sinda had seen the look, she would’ve gotten angry at us, too, so we hid it behind our hands and kept back a bit from her to keep out of range. Tin did explain the process, though, which was a little too scientific for me to follow. I understood that seawater powered the generator that ran the lights and some sort of radio, and radio waves made the salt water burn. Once the salt burned off, the water left behind was distilled, and perfectly drinkable. Tin siphoned it into our discarded bottles and brought it to our platform.
“But what do you get out of it?” Ky
