“Without me, you’d already be where you want to go, Captain.”
“No. Without you I wouldn’t be anywhere at all.” He dropped his gaze, and I was at least as uncomfortable as he was. I didn’t know what to say—or rather, how to say it. I had imagined leaving so many times, but the excitement I’d anticipated had not rushed in. I felt hollow.
He could have everything he wanted, but only without me, and I hesitated to leave—why? Was it the fear I might be unmade? Or was it because when I was free to go, I could remember all the reasons I had to stay?
“Let’s look at the map again, shall we?” he suggested then, and I sprang to my feet too eagerly.
It was a challenging first trip, to put it mildly. Fairy-tale maps were always the most difficult, and living terra-cotta warriors were certainly a fairy tale. But I was confident; the captain said I had to be. And Joss had said she’d seen me at the helm.
We were to use all possible precautions for the journey. Kashmir had his long knife hung on his belt, and I’d watched Bee check the bullets in her revolver. Slate had a long piece of oak, a length of an old yardarm, and Rotgut, having carefully considered the strengths and weaknesses of a terra-cotta army, had picked up a hammer.
I was the only one uncomfortable with a weapon. Fighting wasn’t my strength. I wasn’t even certain we’d need to. The warriors were there to protect the emperor; we didn’t plan to threaten him, but it was always best to be prepared, especially when traveling so far. After all, what else might we encounter in a place where clay soldiers came to life? What else did the mapmaker believe?
As Slate took the helm and pointed us away from shore, I didn’t wait for Bee to tell me to start hauling in the sails. Kashmir and I worked side by side in silence, clearing the deck (including my hammock and the washing lines), battening the hatches, securing the halyard, cleaning the drains and the scuppers, and tying off lines. It was as easy as the waltz we’d shared; we slipped past each other through tight spots without having to push, hauled lines together that neither of us could haul alone, and knew what the other needed without having to be told.
And yet . . . there was a quality in our silence that had never existed before, almost imperceptible from the outside, but such a difference, like salty water instead of sweet. It was the same feeling I’d had the night of the ball, as we’d stood on the deck. I’d been unable to speak then. I’d been unable to speak for years. I steeled myself. “Kashmir?”
He was stringing the jack line and he didn’t look up, but by his face, I knew he’d heard me.
“Kash.”
His shoulders rose and fell in a sigh, but he met my eyes. “Amira—”
“I just wanted to say—”
“You don’t have to,” he said quickly. “It was my mistake. The other night I thought—” He shook his head and laughed a little. “Well. Will you forgive me? I only hope it hasn’t hurt what we have.”
My hand went to my pendant; the pearl was warm and smooth on my skin. “And what is it we have?” I asked softly.
“Our friendship,” he said. “As you’ve said many times.” He searched my face. “Yes?”
I hesitated, but only for a moment. “Yes.”
He nodded, and after a moment, he opened his arms. “Viens.” I stepped into his embrace, and he wrapped his arms around me . . . only to clip the jack line to my belt, giving it a yank. I gave him a shove in return, then I reached back and unclipped my line. “I don’t get one this time, remember? I’ve got the helm.”
“Oh, aye, Captain,” he said, grinning. “Why do you think the rest of us are roped in?”
I stuck my tongue out at him. Tying in was standard for any difficult journey, where the rough seas in the Margins might climb over the deck to clutch at our feet. Of course, no one but the captain had ever Navigated the Temptation, so none of us really knew what we might face when I took the helm. Would the fog rise for me?
I took one more look at Kashmir, who would have to ride out whatever I steered us into. As soon as I attempted to Navigate, the ship—my home—and the crew—my family—became my responsibility, and fear wrapped cold claws around my spine as I walked to the map room and shut the door behind me.