Sturmhond leaned back and rested his elbows on the rail, surveying the deck. “As I would have explained to the Darkling had he bothered to ask—which, thankfully, he didn’t—the problem with hiring a man who sells his honor is that you can always be outbid.”
I gaped at him. “You betrayed the Darkling for money?”
“‘Betrayed’ seems a strong word. I hardly know the fellow.”
“You’re mad,” I said. “You know what he can do. No prize is worth that.”
Sturmhond grinned. “That remains to be seen.”
“The Darkling will hunt you for the rest of your days.”
“Then you and I will have something in common, won’t we? Besides, I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important.”
Mal crossed his arms and considered the privateer. “I can’t decide if you’re crazy or stupid.”
“I have so many good qualities,” Sturmhond said. “It can be hard to choose.”
I shook my head. The privateer was out of his mind. “If the Darkling was outbid, then who hired you? Where are you taking us?”
“First answer a question for me,” Sturmhond said, reaching into his frock coat. He drew a little red volume from his pocket and tossed it to me. “Why was the Darkling carrying this around with him? He doesn’t strike me as the religious type.”
I caught it and turned it over, but I already knew what it was. Its gold lettering sparkled in the sun.
“You stole it?” I asked.
“And a number of other documents from his cabin. Although, again, since it was technically my cabin, I’m not sure you can call it theft.”
“Technically,” I observed in irritation, “the cabin belongs to the whaling captain you stole the ship from.”
“Fair enough,” admitted Sturmhond. “If this whole Sun Summoner thing doesn’t work out, you might consider a career as a barrister. You seem to have the carping disposition. But I should point out that this actually belongs to you.”
He reached out and flipped the book open. My name was inscribed inside the cover: Alina Starkov.
I tried to keep my face blank, but my mind was suddenly racing. This was my Istorii Sankt’ya, the very copy the Apparat had given to me months ago in the library of the Little Palace. The Darkling would have had my room searched after I fled Os Alta, but why take this book? And why had he been so concerned that I might have read it?
I thumbed through the pages. The volume was beautifully illustrated, though given that it was meant for children, it was awfully gruesome. Some of the Saints were depicted performing miracles or acts of charity: Sankt Feliks among the apple boughs. Sankta Anastasia ridding Arkesk of the wasting plague. But most of the pages showed the Saints in their martyrdoms: Sankta Lizabeta being drawn and quartered, the beheading of Sankt Lubov, Sankt Ilya in Chains. I froze. This time I could not disguise my reaction.
“Interesting, no?” said Sturmhond. He tapped the page with one long finger. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, that’s the creature we just captured.”
There was no hiding it: Behind Sankt Ilya, splashing around in the waves of a lake or an ocean, was the distinctive shape of the sea whip. But that wasn’t all. Somehow, I kept my hand from straying to the collar at my neck.
I shut the book and shrugged. “Just another story.”
Mal shot me a baffled look. I didn’t know if he’d seen what was on that page.
I didn’t want to return the Istorii Sankt’ya to Sturmhond, but he was already suspicious enough. I made myself hold it out to him, hoping he couldn’t see the tremor in my hand.
Sturmhond studied me, then levered himself up and shook out his cuffs. “Keep it. It is yours, after all. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I have a deep respect for personal property. Besides, you’ll need something to keep you occupied until we get to Os Kervo.”
Mal and I both gave a start.
“You’re taking us to West Ravka?” I asked.
“I’m taking you to meet my client, and that’s really all I can tell you.”
“Who is he? What does he want from me?”
“Are you so sure it’s a he? Maybe I’m delivering you to the Fjerdan Queen.”
“Are you?”
“No. But it’s always wise to keep an open mind.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “Do you ever answer a question directly?”
“Hard to say. Ah, there, I’ve done it again.”
I turned to Mal, fists clenched. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Answer the question, Sturmhond,” Mal growled.
Sturmhond lifted a brow. “Two things you should know,” he said, and this time I heard that hint of steel in his voice. “One, captains don’t like taking orders on their own ships. Two, I’d like to offer you a deal.”
Mal snorted. “Why would we ever trust you?”
“You don’t have much choice,” Sturmhond said pleasantly. “I’m well aware that you could sink this ship and consign us all to the watery deep, but I hope you’ll take your chances with my client. Listen to what he has to say. If you don’t like what he proposes, I swear to help you make your escape. Take you anywhere in the world.”