Alosa turns to me. “Are you amenable, Captain?”
I blink at her, let the silence fill the room until it grows to uncomfortable depths. Finally, I turn to Kearan. Stars, but he’s a big man. Wide enough for two men, tall enough to tower over everyone. His white skin bears a light tan from all the time in the sun, but he’s not handsome by any stretch of the word. Though he’s finally trimmed his hair and beard, his nose is large and has been broken too many times. His eyes are too far apart on his face.
It’s one of the few things I do like about him: the fact that he’s not handsome. He looks real, like a man hardened by life on the sea, though I would never admit that to anyone. Not even Alosa.
He wears a black coat that’s now just a size too big for him with his weight loss. Muscle has replaced most of the fat, and what fat is left looks good on him. Again, it makes him look real. The coat has dozens of pockets sewn onto it, which used to hold all his flasks of rum.
Those are now floating around in the ocean somewhere, thanks to me.
He’s not much older than me. Before I left to take care of Vordan, Enwen put together a surprise party to celebrate Kearan’s twentieth birthday (which he hated). I had my eighteenth birthday just last week overseas, which was nice. There was no one aboard the ship who knew me well enough to make a fuss.
Kearan doesn’t look away from my stare, which is impressive. There are few men who dare to hold my gaze. I can respect that, even knowing what I do about him.
“If you can follow orders, I have no problem with you joining the crew.” If I can pretend like he doesn’t get to me, then eventually he’ll grow bored and move on. It works on bullies, so why not enthusiastic men?
Kearan nods once. He asks, “What direction are we headed?”
“Northeast of the Seventeen Isles,” Alosa says. She reaches into one of the long drawers of her desk and withdraws a map. She unrolls it and points to the new markings that must indicate the missing ship’s course before it disappeared. “The Wanderer was meant to look for land in uncharted waters. Last I heard, she was here.” Alosa points to where the trail ends.
Kearan’s back goes ramrod straight.
“What is it?” Alosa asks him.
“I’ve sailed that way before.”
Alosa points to the chair I vacated at Kearan’s entrance. “Tell me everything.”
I take position in a corner of the room. Near the door, I’ll be able to hear if anyone tries to listen in, and I like to be the closest to the escape route. Habit of my youth.
“They called it a panaceum,” Kearan begins. “That’s what we were hired to search for. Didn’t matter if we found it or not; our employer promised us a fortune to sail that way and dig up what we could.”
“Your employer, who were they?” Alosa asks.
“Some rich heir who dreamed of fame. Said he came from a line of explorers, but he intended to be the one to actually find the panaceum.”
“Which is?”
“Utter rubbish if you ask me. The git said it was a mystical object that could heal any injury or sickness, no matter how fatal. It’s supposed to grant whoever possesses it immortality and immunity from death. Meaning you can’t kill ’em with a blade or anything.”
“I get the idea,” Alosa says.
“So we sailed northeast to search for this thing. Didn’t find anything but trouble. As the weather grew colder the farther we went, the sea started bubbling randomly. People would disappear from the ship in the middle of the night. Just vanish without a trace. All their belongings still aboard. Lifeboats still attached to the ship. It was strange.”
“What ended up happening?”
“Crew turned against our financial benefactor after the eighth person went missing. We flipped the ship around and didn’t look back.”
Alosa rubs at her forehead. “This all would have been helpful to know before I let half a dozen girls join the ranks of the land king’s vessel.”
“Had I known, I would have spoken up.”
“I know. It’s no one’s fault, but it doesn’t change the fact that those girls are missing.” Alosa looks to me.
“I said I’d look for them, and I meant it. I’m not afraid of Kearan’s ghost stories.”
“They’re not stories. This really happened,” Kearan insists.
“How drunk were you during this voyage?” My tone doesn’t change, but the words do their job.
He turns to me, his eyes hardening. “This was before I took to the bottle.”
Hmm. I assumed he came out of the womb with a bottle in his hand.
Alosa says, “I don’t leave anyone for dead. If there’s a chance they’re still alive, then I’m going to use all the resources I have to locate them. I’ll want weekly updates, Captain, on the well-being of you and the crew. Anything weird starts to happen, you let me know immediately.”
It’s still so strange to be called Captain. Alosa promoted me shortly after we dethroned her father, yet I never wanted my own ship or women to command. I haven’t bothered to hire a crew for my vessel, and I haven’t even laid eyes on the ship Alosa gifted me.
“Who will be sailing with me?” I ask. “Wallov?”
“No. Where Wallov goes, Roslyn follows. This is no voyage for her.”
I couldn’t agree more. The lass isn’t even eight yet.
“You’ll have a few familiar faces. Radita will serve as boatswain. Philoria and Bayla as gunwomen. Mostly, there will be many new women that you have yet to meet. Don’t worry. I won’t be sending anyone with you that I don’t trust. You’ll have a good crew.”
“Who’s to serve as first mate?”
“Her name is Dimella. You’ll like her, I promise.”
We’ll see about that. I don’t like very many people. “When do we sail?”
“As soon as the ship can be made ready. I’ve been having it stocked since I anticipated your return soon.”
“So sure I would say yes?” I ask with a smile.
“Not sure. Just hopeful. Thank you, Sorinda. I mean it. I really wish I could go with you.”
Realizing that Alosa needs some assurances of her own, I say, “Put it from your mind, Captain. I’ve got this. I will find them.”
She nods. “I know you will.” Then, as though remembering something, she reaches under the desk and pulls out a long, thin box. “Almost forgot. I have something for you.”
I step up to it slowly, doing my best to keep as much distance as possible from Kearan with him still sitting right in front of the desk.
“Go on. Open it,” Alosa encourages.
I find the latch at the front and pull on the lid.
What rests inside takes my breath away.
It’s a rapier. Long and slender, sharp as death. The knuckle guard shimmers, as though some sort of crushed gems were mixed in with the molten iron. The inner guards over the base of the blade have been shaped to look like ocean waves. When I reach for the grip, my hands brush leather so soft it could be mistaken for velvet. It’s impossibly light when I lift the sword. It blurs through the air when I test it out, moving as though it truly were an extension of my arm.
“You didn’t think I’d forgotten your birthday, now, did you?” Alosa asks.