“I’ll make that twenty gold talents, then,” he calls out, leaning back into the nest and out of sight.
“Is he … winning?” Violetta asks, squinting up at the sky. We look on as Magiano mutters a train of words to himself. A half-mad thief and a rejected Dagger—I’m certainly off to a good start in building my Elite society.
Sergio shrugs. “Does it matter? If he loses, he’ll just steal the poor bastard’s winnings, anyway.”
Suddenly, the sailor Magiano is playing hops up to his feet. He points out at the water. Magiano cranes his neck toward land too, then shouts something down to Sergio that I can’t make out.
Sergio bites his lip. I watch him, noting the tiny sparks of fear coming off him. I stare hard into the mist. For a long moment, none of us can see anything. Only when the morning sun burns away more of the mist do I detect the faint outline of golden sails, the curving hull of a ship sailing out of Campagnia’s harbor. The sound of horns floats toward us again. This time, they’re deafening.
Overhead, Magiano grabs the rope attached to the crow’s nest and glides down the mast. He lands with a light thump. His hair is in wild disarray, and the salty smell of ocean permeates his clothes. He gives us a passing glance. “An Inquisition ship,” he says when he sees my questioning expression. “Looks like they’re heading straight for us.”
“You saw the Inquisition’s flag on them?” I fold my arms and try to swallow the fear building in my throat. “But we’re a completely common-looking ship.”
“We’re also the only ship passing the bay right now,” Magiano replies. He frowns out at the water. “Why would they care if a cargo ship’s making its way to Campagnia’s port?”
The Inquisition’s ship is getting closer. Something about the sight of its familiar emblems stirs the whispers in my head, and they shuffle their little claws, restless. The fear in my throat gives way to something else—a wild courage, the same thing I felt when I confronted the Night King.
A chance at revenge, the whispers say over and over. Adelina, it’s a chance at revenge.
“Teren may be expanding his operations into Kenettra’s other cities,” Violetta says, casting me a sideways look. Are you all right? her expression says.
I tighten my lips and push down the whispers. “Do you think they’re going to board us?” I ask Magiano.
Magiano points to how the small ship is now positioning itself behind us. “It’s a small team, but they’re going to steer us into the port,” he replies. “And then they’re going to inspect every nook and cranny of this ship.” His expression darkens as he turns to me. “If I’d known you were going to cause this much trouble in the first three days since our little agreement, I would’ve left you to the Night King without a second glance.”
“Good,” I shoot back. “I’ll remember that the next time I see you in danger.”
My answer makes Magiano let out a surprised laugh. “You’re charming.” He grabs my wrist before I can stop him, then nods at Violetta to follow him. “It looks like we’re stuck together now, aren’t we?” he says. “I recommend we hide.”
We hurry back belowdecks, where a nervous and sweaty crewmember hisses at Magiano to take us down to the ship’s belly. Our footsteps echo hollowly across the narrow wood floors.
We make our way down three ladders before finally reaching a closet where crates are stacked haphazardly from floor to ceiling. Here, he ushers us into its dark recesses. The space is nearly pitch-black, except for a dense iron grating high overhead that lets in slivers of dim light.
Magiano gives me a pointed look. “Stay quiet,” he whispers. He glances at Violetta. “Keep a lid on your sister’s power. It’d be in all of our best interests for it not to careen out of control like it did in Merroutas.”
“She’s going to be fine,” Violetta answers, a note of irritation in her voice. “She knows how to control herself.”
He looks unconvinced, but still gives her a nod. Then he’s gone, closing the door behind him and leaving us in darkness.
I can feel Violetta’s faint trembling. She doesn’t do as Magiano suggested—take away my power—but she doesn’t seem entirely comfortable with me, either. “You’re feeling okay, right?” she whispers to me.
“Yes,” I reply.
We wait without saying another word. For a while, the only thing we can hear is the familiar sound of waves outside the ship. Then, we hear new voices. Footsteps.
“Don’t lose control again,” Violetta whispers. After such a long silence, her words sound deafening. She doesn’t even look at me. Instead, her eyes stay fixed on the grating above us.