I dragged Markos through the nearest door. As it turned out, it was a coat closet. The room smelled of cedar and camphor and was barely big enough for the two of us to stand in, squashed as we were between rows of overcoats.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“Ow! Let go of my sleeve.” He jerked his arm away. “I thought you were in trouble when you didn’t come back. When were you going to tell me?”
“About what?”
“You know what.” When I didn’t say anything, he prodded me. “This house? Your mother? You were so angry at me for keeping my identity from you, yet you never mentioned a word about any of this. I had to hear it from Fee.”
I spoke through clenched teeth. “My identity isn’t going to get us killed.”
“Your identity could save us. These people have ships—”
“Markos, you can’t be here,” I cut in. “You shouldn’t have left the boat.”
“Fee’s there. It’ll be safe.”
“I meant you won’t be safe. The Black Dogs are here! Their captain is in this house as we speak. Down the hall, in the sitting room.”
“What do you mean, Black Dogs? That cutter’s nowhere to be seen.”
“Philemon,” I said, watching his eyes widen with recognition. “There’s another ship. A sloop.”
“What’s a sloop?” he asked. I bit my tongue so as not to say something rude. He continued in a whisper, “Might it be a black boat with two sails, a regular one and a front one? There’s one like that across from us. Alektor. It came into port after dark.”
“Ayah? Well, look who knows everything. Did you know it belonged to the Black Dogs?”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely sure,” I said. “It’s like the toll boat man said. They did see Cormorant’s name that night, but they can’t tell one wherry from the next. That’s why they’ve asked for the Bollards’ help. Listen. We’ve got to get out of town now. Ma knows. She knows it’s Cormorant they’re looking for.”
A crease appeared between his eyes. “She didn’t tell them you were here?”
“No.”
“So we’re safe, at least for now.”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Ma won’t let them hurt me. But I don’t know what she’ll do if she finds out who you really are. She won’t allow us to leave this house, that’s for certain. Not until they figure out what to do with you.”
“Xanto’s balls,” he swore. “Who are these people?”
“The Bollards are a great merchant house,” I said defensively. “We didn’t get to be a great merchant house by angering the Emparchs of powerful countries.”
“I’ll be burned before I hear you call that impostor an Emparch!” His voice went up two or three notches.
“Will you shut up?” I hissed.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning on the coat rack. “What are we going to do?”
I opened the door a crack so I could peer through. “You’ll have to sneak back out.”
“By the lion god,” he said, “I wish I’d known all this before I came up here.”
“Ma took me by surprise,” I admitted. “I couldn’t get away. I was just about to give them the slip.”
“You were going to give them the slip, were you?” His eyes gave me a quick up and down. “Not before you took a bath, changed into a nice dress, and ate a perfectly luxurious dinner. At least I expect it must be luxurious, in this house. While I was smashed into a smuggling cupboard, naturally.”
I felt slightly guilty about that. “Did you get something to eat?”
“I was reduced to eating common street food.”
I rolled my eyes, my sympathy evaporating. I liked street food.
“Where’s your hair?” He stared at me by the shaft of light that fell through the crack in the door.
My hair was stuffed into a black lace net, secured with a velvet ribbon. I thought it was very smart, but Markos was looking at me like I’d grown a second head.
“I put it up. Never mind that.” I plucked at the stiff fabric of his jacket. “Wherever did you get this?”
“I purchased it in a shop,” he said, disdain curling around the word, “but it fits well enough in spite of its low origins.”
I wondered where someone would buy clothes if not in a shop. Steeling myself, I asked, “How much did you spend?”
The sum he named, though less than I’d feared, was much more than Pa would’ve allowed me to spend on a single article of clothing. My eyes were drawn to the handsome stripes of white tape and gold lace lining the lapels, crisscrossed by brass buckles. I would have liked a coat like that. It was a man’s coat, but fitting, after all, for a wherry captain.
I shook my head. I didn’t know what had gotten into me—fancying myself a captain. I was Pa’s first mate. If we succeeded in disentangling ourselves from this mess, likely he would sail till he was seventy, as his father and grandfather before him had done.
A pang of hurt stabbed me in the heart. Better that way. The most I could aspire to be was a mediocre wherry captain, now that I was sure the god in the river didn’t want me.
I peeked out the door. “The coast’s clear. Go straight back out the way you came. Quickly.”
“What about you?” Markos asked as we slipped into the entry hall.
There was no way I was leaving Pa’s pistol behind. “I’ve got to get my things. I’ll be right behind you.”
The sitting room door opened and voices spilled out. Before we had time to hide, Ma, Uncle Bolaji, and the Black Dog Philemon were upon us.
When Philemon spied Markos, a keen look crossed his face, like a wolf whose ears have pricked up because it smells prey. “Who is that?” he asked Uncle Bolaji, halting with his hat halfway to his head.
“Oh, that fellow. Courier from the Akhaian Consulate.”
Philemon seemed very much like he wanted to linger, but the butler had already pressed his coat into his hands. He threw one last hard glance over his shoulder, then drew on his overcoat and went out into the mist.
Uncle Bolaji frowned at me. “I thought you were bringing him into the dining room.”
“Oh. Well …” I tried to pick an excuse from the many that tumbled through my head.
“That was my fault, sir.” Markos spoke up behind me. “You see, I have an interest in old maps.” He gestured at the glass curio case. “I told Miss Bollard I wished to inspect your collection. It is a fine one.”
I inhaled sharply. I knew why he’d called me Miss Bollard. It fit with the pretense that we didn’t know each other, and yet something in my very being rebelled against it. I didn’t want to be disloyal to Pa.
“Those are originals.” Uncle Bolaji stroked his beard with pride. “That is the chart on which Jacari Bollard marked out the trade route to Ndanna.” He pointed under the glass. “And there is the chest he used to bring back the tea leaves he presented to the Emparch.”
“Indeed? Do you have many other artifacts from Astarta?” The Southwest Passage was a significant achievement in naval exploration, but it surprised me that Markos knew the name of Captain Bollard’s ship. Lately he was surprising me a lot.