The ship slips off course ever so slightly, and I rack my brain for anything to say. I want to call his name. To yell at him. But I know exactly what loud surprises do to a person when their mind is in a dark place.
“Would you like a proper look at the new rapier Alosa gave me?” I ask. I draw my sword and hold it up to the light. The sun catches on the glittering gems, making the guard almost blinding.
“I’ve always favored the rapier, because of its speed,” I continue. “Also, it’s what my father carried as a nobleman. I like that it reminds me of him.”
Kearan’s eyes shift back into focus, and he slides his gaze to the weapon.
“Were you so eager to replace your old weapon?” he asks.
“It was starting to feel … heavy.”
“Because of all the blood it spilled?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like it? Killing, that is.”
“Don’t we all enjoy the things we’re good at?”
“Often. But not always. I’m good at rowing. Doesn’t mean I love doing it. But I’ll take my turn like everyone else.”
I look down at the rowers below. Enwen’s face has turned red, but he keeps on like the rest of them. They must be nearing the end of their shift.
“I love killing,” I say. It’s the only thing I love. Sharing that moment with Samvin Carroter over and over again. The taste of revenge on my tongue. The sight of his face when he knew it was me ending it.
Kearan says, “I love hunting. Does that count?”
“Count?”
“As killing.”
What an absurd question. “Animals.”
“Well, yes.”
My eyes narrow. “Are you trying to find a common interest with me?”
He smirks. “Captain, you’re doing it again. Stop flattering yourself.”
Chapter 6
WHEN I ORDER DIMELLA to add me to the next rotation of rowers, she doesn’t question the order. She never questions my orders, which is why I like her.
I sit at the backmost bench so I can see all the rowers ahead of me. I don’t like the exposure of sitting in the middle of the ship, but there’s nothing for it. I want this. I need this. Enwen offers me his gloves, and I take them, despite them being far too big. I shrug out of my captain’s coat and lay it under my bench.
What I hadn’t taken under consideration was the clear line of sight this position gives me to Kearan up at the helm. So I stare at the back of Bayla, as she sits in front of me.
“Heave,” Dimella bellows, and I push the oar through the water, moving the ship forward. “Heave. Heave. Heave.”
Taydyn is giving his voice and fingers a rest, so there is nothing to distract the crew from the tedium of rowing. Nothing but talking.
“When do you think Vengeance will see her first fight?” Philoria asks.
“Hopefully soon,” Bayla answers. “Those cannons are looking a little too clean.”
Philoria takes a big draw of air through her nose. “I miss the smell of gunpowder.”
“I can see the soot in your hair,” I say. “You’ve been getting into the powder with Visylla, haven’t you?”
“Guilty.” She sings the word.
“It’s not the same as when we get to light it, though, Captain,” Bayla says. “We need a proper sea battle.”
“All in good time,” I say. “You two are going to get your fight. It’s inevitable where we’re going.” I would tell them not to be so eager, but that would be hypocritical. I’m itching for a fight myself.
“I certainly don’t mind having less work,” Iskirra says from where she’s working at her own oar.
“Liar,” Bayla says. “You miss having wounds to patch up. Admit it.”
“Heave.”
I’m out of practice at the oars. It doesn’t take long at all before my muscles start to ache, but I will do my part like everyone else. Ignoring pain is almost second nature to me.
“Heave.”
After spotting movement out of the corner of my eye, I watch Roslyn scurry down the line from the crow’s nest, faster than should be possible for anyone. That girl’s part monkey.
She crosses to us on bare feet and sits, letting her ankles dangle in the area where the rowers labor.
“Captain,” Roslyn says. “I’ve been thinking.”
“You’re getting dropped off at Darmont, and that’s the end of it,” I say.
“But what if you can’t find me on the ship? Or what if I climbed back aboard after you dropped me into a rowboat? Alosa can’t very well blame you if—”
“I’ll not make myself look incompetent or complicit in your schemes, Roslyn.”
“I don’t know what complicit means, but no one would ever think you incompetent.”
“Exactly. The answer is no.”
“But, Sorinda—”
“No.”
“I could help row! I could serve food in the kitchens. I’ll take night watches. Whatever you want. Please, I’ll do any task on the ship if you please, please don’t drop me off.”
“If you bring this up again, you’re bound for the brig. You understand?”
She huffs. “What about assassin lessons? Have you given more thought to—”
“The answer is still no.”
She stands. “You’re not my favorite anymore.”
“Favorite what?” Though I hardly care for the opinions of an enraged child.
“Pirate,” she says simply, and for some reason, the word stings just a bit. She stomps away again, this time joining Kearan at the helm, of all places. She sits on the railing before him and says something that makes him laugh. When his eyes dart to me, I can guess she’s complaining about my rulings.
Let them talk about me. See if I care. I have no wish to keep Kearan’s gaze, so I return mine to Bayla’s back.
After a half hour, my arms, stomach, and legs all burn. Muscles I forgot I had throb from the workout.
I keep rowing.
Alosa’s missing girls could be hurt somewhere, so we’ll not slow down or delay in reaching them. If they’re alive, we’ll find them. If there’s any chance that anyone can be saved, I will always fight.
I couldn’t save my sisters, but I will save Alosa’s crew.
THE WIND FINALLY PICKS back up three days later, though it blows in the least favorable direction, so we have to tack the ship, making the voyage even longer.
I make the days count in the only way I know how. I shrug out of my captain’s coat and readjust my knife sheaths. What shall I observe tonight? I could hide myself in the sleeping quarters and see who rises earlier than they should. That’s always a fun one. Or I could position myself high on one of the masts and watch the main deck below me. I can’t hear interactions from up there, but it’s always interesting to see if anyone rendezvous with someone they don’t usually talk to.
I fold my coat and place it in its cubby. Then I turn.
That tricorne is still on the floor, the smallest layer of dust coating it.