“Plans change. Besides, I had all of Vordan’s men piled together in one location. How could I resist blowing it up? He has nothing now.”
“Except a broken leg.”
I smile. Sorinda rarely bothers with humor. “Yes, except that.”
We round another corner and reach the carriage. Wallov and Deros sit at the reins. They were the only men on my crew until Enwen and Kearan joined, but I left the latter two on the Ava-lee to guard the ship under Niridia’s watch. Wallov and Deros are my brig guards. They jump from their seat and open the carriage doors. A cage rests on the floor inside. Deros pulls out a key and unlocks it, letting the opening swing wide.
“Wallov, show our guest inside,” I say.
“Gladly.”
“You can’t put me in there,” Vordan says. “Alosa, I—”
He’s cut off by Sorinda’s fist slamming into his gut. She gags him and ties his hands behind his back. Only then does Wallov thrust him inside the cage. It’s rather small, meant for a dog or some sort of livestock, but we manage to squeeze Vordan inside.
I step up to the carriage door and look inside. On the seats rest two wooden chests, their locks broken.
“Did you get it all, then?” I ask.
“Aye,” Wallov says. “Athella’s information was spot on. Vordan’s gold was in the cellar underneath the false floor.”
“And just where is our informant?”
“Here, Captain!” Athella steps out from among the group behind Mandsy. She’s still in disguise, her hair hidden beneath a tricorne, fake facial hair stuck to her chin. She’s put face paint over her brows to widen and darken them. Lines around her cheeks make them look more elongated. Blocks in her shoes give her the necessary extra height, and she wears a bulky vest under her shirt to fill out the men’s clothing.
She pulls the masculine accoutrements from her body and wipes her face until she looks like herself once more. What’s left is a reed-thin girl with hair that falls to her shoulders in a smooth, black sheet. Athella is the ship’s designated spy and most renowned lockpick.
I turn back to Vordan, who’s staring bug-eyed at the young girl he thought was a member of his crew. He swivels his gaze to me, eyes sizzling with hate.
“How does it feel to be the one locked in the cage?” I ask.
He pulls at his bound hands, trying to free himself, and my mind is pulled back to that time two months ago when Vordan stuck me in a cage and forced me to show him all the abilities I possess, using Riden to make me comply.
Riden …
He, too, is back on my ship, healing from the gunshot wounds Vordan gave him. I’ll have to finally take the time to visit him once we get back, but for now—
I slam the carriage door in Vordan’s face.
Chapter 2
I DON’T KNOW HOW landfolk do it.
Ships don’t leave your thighs sore. They don’t leave foul-smelling piles on the ground. Horses, I decide, are disgusting, and I’m relieved to be rid of them when we finally reach Port Renwoll a week later.
My ship, the Ava-lee, is docked in the harbor, waiting for me. She’s the most beautiful vessel ever built. She belonged to the land king’s fleet before I commandeered her. I left her the natural color of the oak she’s made of, but I dyed the sails royal blue. The Ava-lee bears three masts; the middle is square-rigged, while the other two have lateen sails. With no forecastle and only a small aftercastle, she fits all thirty-three of us snugly.
She may be small, but she’s also the fastest ship in existence.
“They’re back!” a voice chirps from clear up in the crow’s nest. That’ll be little Roslyn, Wallov’s daughter and the ship’s lookout. She’s the youngest member of the crew at six years old.
Wallov knew Roslyn’s mother all of one night. Nine months later she died giving birth to a baby girl. Wallov assumed responsibility for his child, even though he hadn’t a clue what to do with her. He was sixteen at the time. Previously, he’d been a sailor on a fishing boat, but he was forced to give it up once he had a daughter to care for. He didn’t know how he was going to feed the two of them until he met me.
“Captain on board!” Niridia shouts as I step on deck. As my first mate, she’s been captaining the ship in my absence.
Roslyn’s already lowered herself onto the deck. She throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my legs. Her head barely reaches my waist.
“You were gone too long,” she says. “Next time, take me with you.”
“There was fighting to be done on this trip, Roslyn. Besides, I needed you here watching after my ship.”
“But I can fight, Captain. Papa’s been teaching me.” She reaches behind her too-big britches and pulls out a small dagger.
“Roslyn, you’re six years old. Give it ten more, then we’ll see.”
Her eyes scrunch up in a glare. Then she lunges for me.
She’s quick, I’ll give her that, but I still dodge her blade effortlessly. Without pausing, she swings back around and swipes at me. I leap backward, then kick the dagger out of her reach. She crosses her arms defiantly.
“All right,” I say, “we’ll check again in eight years. Satisfied?”
She smiles, then rushes in to give me another hug.
“You’d think I didn’t exist,” Wallov says to Deros from somewhere behind me.
Roslyn, hearing him, lets go and runs to him. “I was getting to you, Papa.”
I survey everyone else on board. I left twelve behind to guard the ship. They’re all on deck now, save our two newest recruits.
“Was there any trouble?” I ask Niridia.
“It was downright boring. And you?”
“We saw some action. Nothing we couldn’t handle. And we brought back some prizes.” I pull out the makeshift necklace by the cord, displaying the map for everyone to see. I have a copy of the first two map pieces already, and while we sail back to the keep, I’ll have Mandsy create a replica of the new one. Father will lead the journey to the Isla de Canta, but I want to be prepared should we get separated or tragedy befall his ship. It would be foolish to have only one copy of such valuable items.
Over by the port side, Teniri, the ship’s purser, peers over toward the carriage and asks, “What else? Anything of the sparkling, gold variety, Captain?”
Mandsy and the girls make their way up the gangplank. It takes four of them to lift each chest. Deros and Wallov have already deposited our prisoner, cage and all, onto the deck of the ship. Vordan lies there, gagged and ignored, as the girls all circle around the chests. Until everyone is divvied out their fair share, no one is permitted to touch the gold except Teniri. She’s the oldest on the ship at twenty-six. Though she’s still plenty young, she has a gray streak of hair on the back of her head that she tries to hide in a braid. Anyone who dares to mention it gets a swift kick to the gut.
She raises the lids of both chests at once, revealing a hefty amount of gold and silver coins, and some priceless gems and stones.
“All right,” I say. “You’ve had your chance to look at it. Let’s get it stored safely and be on our way.”