“The first ones had better be ‘ Thank you, oh great Nina, for dedicating every waking moment of this miserable journey to saving my sorry life. ’”
Jesper expected Inej to laugh and was startled when she took Nina’s face between her hands and said, “Thank you for keeping me in this world when fate seemed determined to drag me to the next. I owe you a life debt.”
Nina blushed deeply. “I was teasing, Inej.” She paused. “I think we’ve both had enough of debts.”
“This is one I’m glad to bear.”
“Okay, okay. When we’re back in Ketterdam, take me out for waffles.”
Now Inej did laugh. She dropped her hands and appeared to speculate. “Dessert for a life? I’m not sure that seems equitable.”
“I expect really good waffles.”
“I know just the place,” said Jesper. “They have this apple syrup—”
“You’re not invited,” Nina said. “Now come help me get her standing.”
“I can stand on my own,” Inej grumbled as she slid off the table and rose to her feet.
“Humour me.”
With a sigh, Inej gripped the arm that Jesper offered, and they made their way out of the cabin and up to the deck, Nina trailing behind them.
“This is foolishness,” Inej said. “I’m fine.”
“You are,” replied Jesper, “but I may keel over at any moment, so pay attention.”
Once they were on deck, Inej squeezed his arm to get him to halt. She tilted her head back, breathing deeply. It was a stone grey day, the sea a bleak slate broken up by whitecaps, the sky pleated with thick ripples of cloud. A hard wind filled the sails, carrying the little boat over the waves.
“It feels good to be this kind of cold,” she murmured.
“This kind?”
“Wind in your hair, sea spray on your skin. The cold of the living.”
“Two turns around the deck,” Nina warned. “Then back to bed.” She went to join Wylan at the stern. It didn’t escape Jesper that she’d moved to the point on the ship furthest from Matthias.
“Have they been like that the whole time?” Inej asked, looking between Nina and the Fjerdan.
Jesper nodded. “It’s like watching two bobcats circle each other.”
Inej made a little humming noise. “But what do they mean to do when they pounce?”
“Claw each other to death?”
Inej rolled her eyes. “No wonder you do so badly at the tables.”
Jesper steered her towards the rail, where they could make an approximation of a promenade without getting in anyone’s way. “I’d threaten to toss you into the drink, but Kaz is watching.”
Inej nodded. She didn’t look up to where Kaz stood beside Specht at the wheel. But Jesper did and gave him a cheery wave. Kaz’s expression didn’t change.
“Would it kill him to smile every once in a while?” Jesper asked.
“Very possibly.”
Every crew member called greetings and well wishes, and Jesper could sense Inej perking up with every cheer of “The Wraith returns!” Even Matthias gave her an awkward bow and said, “I understand you’re the reason we made it out of the harbour alive.”
“I suspect there were a lot of reasons,” said Inej.
“I’m a reason,” Jesper offered helpfully.
“All the same,” said Matthias, ignoring him. “Thank you.”
They moved on, and Jesper saw a pleased grin playing over Inej’s lips.
“Surprised?” he asked.
“A bit,” she admitted. “I spend so much time with Kaz. I guess—”
“It’s a novelty to feel appreciated.”
She released a little chuckle and pressed a hand to her side. “Still hurts to laugh.”
“They’re glad you’re alive. I’m glad.”
“I should hope so. I think I just never quite felt like I fit in with the Dregs.”
“Well, you don’t.”
“Thanks.”
“We’re a crew with limited interests, and you don’t gamble, swear, or drink to excess. But here’s the secret to popularity: risk death to save your compatriots from being blown to bits in an ambush.
Great way to make friends.”
“As long as I don’t have to start going to parties.”
When they reached the foredeck, Inej leaned on the railing and looked out at the horizon. “Did he come to see me at all?”
Jesper knew she meant Kaz. “Every day.”
Inej turned her dark eyes on him, then shook her head. “You can’t read people, and you can’t bluff.”
Jesper sighed. He hated disappointing anyone. “No,” he admitted.
She nodded and looked back at the ocean.
“I don’t think he likes sickbeds,” Jesper said.
“Who does?”
“I mean, I think it was hard for him to be around you that way. That first day when you were hurt
… he went a little crazy.” It cost Jesper something to admit that. Would Kaz have gone off on that kind of a mad-dog tear if it had been Jesper with a knife stuck in his side?
“Of course he did. This is a six-person job, and apparently he needs me to scale an incinerator shaft. If I die, the plan falls apart.”