Strangely, I feel like hitting him again. “I’m no weak thing. I know what I want.”
“I didn’t say you were weak.” He pulls his neckline outward, as though he needs more air. “Damn it, Alosa. I deserve better than this. You come find me when you’re not so emotional.”
Emotional? I’m beyond furious and confused now. Maybe a little hurt. But I don’t let it show. I cloak my face in indifference.
His face falls and he takes a step forward. “Now I’ve hurt you. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling. Take the time to feel it. I’m not rejecting you, Alosa! How could anyone reject you? Just take some time to adjust. Then you can come find me. But right now, you’re making me feel like some scoundrel taking advantage of—”
“I’m making you feel—well, it should be all about you, shouldn’t it?” I ask, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
“No, it shouldn’t be all about me, but it should have something to do with me. When we kiss, I want you thinking about me instead of everything that’s infuriating you. Until you’re ready for that, we won’t be kissing.”
Something about those words hits deep, and guilt sweeps in. I don’t need it on top of everything else! “Right now, you’re infuriating me. And there won’t be any more kissing. Now get out.”
I kick his arse on his way through the door.
Chapter 9
DAMNED SIREN BLOOD.
It’s the only thing I can think of to explain my behavior yesterday. Surely no human girl would throw herself at some man she doesn’t fully trust because her parents disappoint her.
It must be because I’m a creature of the sea. Built for tempting men, killing men, and stealing from men.
At least sleep has done me some good. It gave me time to adjust my expectations and come to terms with my new reality.
If my mother doesn’t want to stick around, fine. I’ll go to her and rob her blind.
I’m looking through my wardrobe, searching for something that matches my mood, when the door opens and closes. I panic for a moment, worrying that it might be Riden, but it is only Sorinda.
“Please tell me you don’t come bearing bad news,” I say.
“No, Captain.” She offers me one of her rare smiles. “The king can only come after us with the ships already prepared to sail. The rest will be left to protect the keep. And half the fleet is hurrying to the keep as we speak to prepare for the voyage to the Isla de Canta.”
“Yes. What are you getting at?”
“Has the land king not been looking for a way to rid the seas of pirates? What do you think he would do if you sent him the exact location of the pirate king’s keep?”
I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. “I think he’d send his armada and do his damned best to blow it to pieces.”
“My thoughts, exactly.”
“Sorinda, you’re brilliant. See it done.”
“Aye.”
She exits, and I peruse my wardrobe once more. I settle on a silver-gray corset, the color of biting steel as it glints in the sun. Night-black leggings adorn my legs, and I pull polished black boots with silver buckles onto my feet. Matching silver hoops go in my ears.
Now just a hint of paint for my face. Red for my lips. Pink for my cheeks. Silver-gray for my eyelids. The first step to feeling good is looking good, and I look like the royalty I am.
I step up to the edge of the aftercastle and survey everyone below me. Kearan is passed out at the side of ship, empty flask inches from his hand. Sorinda kicks it between two pegs of the railing so it slides over the edge. Then she searches his coat for more flasks to dump.
Most of the crew are absent, still belowdecks sleeping after the late night. A few of the riggers roam the ship, checking to make sure the lines are secure. Some of the younger crew members are cleaning. Radita, the ship’s boatswain, is taking a turn at the helm.
“Morning, Captain,” Mandsy says from where she sits on a crate off to the side, attending to more sewing.
“Why aren’t you watching the brothers?” I don’t want to say Riden’s name.
“Riden is nursing Draxen back to health. The only time he left his side was last night after Draxen fell asleep. Said he was going to see you.”
“And you let him?”
She smiles brightly. “All he wanted was to make you feel better. I thought if anyone could cheer you up, he could.”
“You’re supposed to keep an eye on the prisoners, not let them waltz into my private quarters!”
She looks apologetic, but I can tell it’s faked.
“Are you meddling?” I ask. “Is this some project of yours?”
“Not at all. I merely think he’s a better man than you give him credit for.”
Apparently, he’s more noble than I took him for. Where is the womanizing pirate who only cares for his brother?
“Just do me a favor and keep your charges out of my direct line of sight,” I say.
“I’ll do what I can.”
But as I make for the stairs, I think I hear her add, “But I can only do so much while I’m tending to the mending.”
*
Niridia, Kearan, Sorinda, Enwen, and I huddle around the padded table in the sometimes infirmary / sometimes meeting room, where all three map pieces are splayed out in front of us. Kearan’s hair is still dripping water from the bucket Sorinda threw in his face to rouse him. I put a hand to his chest to push him back a step from our only copy of a centuries’ old map.
“Where are we dropping off the brothers?” I ask Kearan. He’s seen more of Maneria than anyone else I’ve ever met, despite his young age. He was a hand for hire, went wherever there was a job that needed done. In the three months since he’s joined the crew, he’s proven to be extremely knowledgeable in navigation—when we can get him sober enough.
Kearan points to a spot on the map, a mere dot of an island. “This is a supply post. The land king stocks it up with food and supplies for his excavating ships. That way they don’t have to travel all the way to the Seventeen Isles to restock. We can drop them off there. They can catch a ride on a ship returning to the Isles after depositing its goods.”
Losing Riden is a good thing, I tell myself. We don’t need the extra mouth to feed. And my father will be so busy coming after me, he’ll forget all about the Allemos brothers. There is no reason to put him in danger. Besides, Riden is confusing and infuriating, and he can’t be trusted. The ship will be better off without him.
But what about you? asks a little voice in my head.
I ignore it.
“Good,” I say. “The supply post won’t take us out of the way of our journey.” I feared we’d have to stop by the Seventeen Isles before heading for the Isla de Canta. “Niridia, how much food and water do we have on the ship?” I ask.
“Enough for five months at sea.”
I examine the map, take a compass to it to measure the distance. “Depending on the wind, we could reach the island in two months’ time.”
“And what of the king?” Kearan asks. “How long will it take his ships to cross the same distance?”
“With the wind, our ship is faster. He’d reach the island just over two weeks after us, probably.”