Yanking out my knife, I flung it at the guard. I heard a wet thunk and a grunt, but I was already running up the gangplank.
“Kenté, pull it in!” I panted. Wood scraped on wood as she obeyed me.
The cutter had an open deck with two hatches leading below. She was steered by a tiller, much bigger than Cormorant’s. “Get back there,” I ordered Daria, pointing. “Don’t touch anything.”
I couldn’t think about Markos. Or the man I might have killed. Or Cormorant.
To anyone who grows up around boats, it is sacrilege to cut good rope, but I didn’t hesitate. I ran along the port rail of the cutter, slashing the mooring warps. Victorianos drifted out of her berth.
I began to desperately heave up the mainsail. It weighed too much, but just when I thought I might burst into frustrated tears from the effort, I felt Fee beside me. The gaff climbed to the peak. Hands shaking, I looped the halyard around the wooden cleat.
“Foresail?” Kenté gasped, out of breath.
“Do it,” I said.
The Black Dogs had seen the cutter’s sails go up. They started to run, shoving wherrymen and dock workers out of their way. I took a flying leap off the hatch cover and into the stern. We had only moments before they drew their muskets.
The little girl stood where I had deposited her, next to the tiller. “Move,” I said brusquely, regretting my tone.
She scuttled away, just in time for me to grab the tiller and slam it hard over to one side, right where she’d been standing seconds before. The cutter, still pointed into the wind, floated backward. Gritting my teeth, I leaned on the tiller. I pumped it toward me and slammed it over once more.
One of the Black Dogs raced down the dock. Kenté had pulled in the gangplank, but he geared himself up to jump. We hadn’t drifted far enough. He might make it.
Fee stretched her lips in a ferocious grin, hopping onto the rail. She balanced there, knife in hand.
The man’s arms and legs churned, and his body lifted into the air. In that moment, Fee looked over her shoulder at me.
I let go of the tiller. “No, don’t—!”
She leaped.
They collided in midair and, tangled together, they fell. There was a splash, and the white churning of water. Then I saw nothing but the gentle waves.
“Fee!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “Fee!”
But neither she nor the pirate resurfaced.
Slowly, slowly, Victorianos began to turn. High up, the edge of her sail flapped. Kenté climbed onto the hatch cover and leaned on the boom, pushing it over on the starboard side. I pumped the tiller again, and this time the sail shuddered. The wind caught it and with a nice slapping noise, it filled. I felt the pull on the tiller as the ship picked up speed. The canvas tightened.
I glanced wildly behind me. “We have to wait for Fee.”
“Caro, she’s gone.” I hated the sympathy in Kenté’s voice.
Bubbles popped up behind our rudder, growing into a rolling wake. Kenté made the mainsheet fast. The Bollards might not be a wherrying family, but they knew something about boats.
We were off and on our way, beating up the Neck. Behind us shots reverberated across the water, though we were well out of range. “Duck your head,” I told Daria just in case. “Better yet, lie all the way down on the floor.”
She dropped like a rock, obeying immediately. She listened better than Markos, I had to give her that.
Markos. There was a gaping black space where he used to be. I wanted to scream in frustration, to fall to pieces, but I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to live.
I was afraid to even think about Fee. It was too new. Too fresh. Stinging tears crowded my eyes. Pa, Cormorant, and Fee—that was the patchwork that made up my life. One missing piece I could handle. Now everything was full of holes, the shreds flying tattered on the wind.
Which had picked up.
Far astern, Alektor moved away from the dock. But this time I didn’t need strange fogs. I knew she couldn’t catch us, for Victorianos simply flew. She crashed through the water, her bow throwing up white spray. This was the kind of sailing she was built for.
Kenté squinted astern. “I don’t think they’re gaining.”
“I’m not going to crowd on sail,” I said. “Not unless I have to. This ship is a lot more than what I’m used to.”
“Cleandros shouldn’t have been able to disappear like that. Not moments after sundown.” Kenté shook her head. “He should have been too weak, like I was. Did you see that thing around his neck?”
“You mean the locket?”
“It must be some kind of—of shadow box or something. He disappeared the moment he opened it. That’s so clever.” She rocked forward, dropping her forehead into her hands. “And I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I ever think to do that? There’s dark inside the box even if it’s light outside.”
“You’re being stupid now,” I said. “How were you to know? It’s like me telling Daria to go aloft and reef that sail and expecting her to know how. He was an Emparch’s own royal shadowman.”
“I was a fool to think I could help you.” She picked at a fingernail. “Fee and Markos fought them. Died fighting them.” A tear rolled down her cheek, blending with the spray. “I did nothing.”
I had other things to worry about. Rain began to spatter down on the deck, the drops big and angry. It was going to storm.
“We’re in for a blow. Take Daria into the cabin. I don’t want her catching cold.”
“I want to stay here!” Daria was wide-eyed, hair plastered to her forehead like so many wet snakes. Markos had hated when Cormorant sailed with any kind of tilt, but his sister seemed exhilarated by how the cutter pitched over on her side, battling the waves. “I’m not going to catch cold.”
In the excitement of our escape, she had ceased crying. I suspected her brother’s death hadn’t truly sunk in yet.
“Go through those lockers,” I told Kenté. “We’ll be needing oilskins. Cold weather gear.”
“You might take a reef,” Kenté suggested, squinting up at the sail. A wave broke across our bow, sending bucketfuls of ocean sluicing along the deck toward us. I paid it no mind. My boots were already soaked through.
“Not yet.” I was afraid to stop.
“Is this the way to Iantiporos?” Daria scrambled to her feet, scrutinizing the misty cliffs. “Mother’s in Iantiporos.”
Horrified, I raised my eyes to meet Kenté’s. “I can’t,” I mouthed. It was too much. I was barely holding myself together.
Kenté unfolded her legs, holding out a hand to Daria. “Let’s go down below and explore, shall we? We can pick out a bunk.”
I was glad the wind and waves were loud. If she cried when Kenté told her, I did not hear it.
Truth be told, I was relieved Daria was belowdecks and out of my sight. I couldn’t imagine finding out you were the only surviving member of your whole family. She’d want someone to hug her and make hot chocolate and tell her it was going to be all right.
Well, I couldn’t do that. Not when she was the reason Markos and Fee were dead. Perhaps it was selfish, but I’d lost everything for her and she didn’t even know it. A stinging bolt of pain went through my chest. It would never be all right again.