“He’s not going to talk,” Cedric reiterated. “The silver will ensure that—and future silver, seeing as I’m sure he’ll approach me later wanting a bonus to further his ‘discretion.’”
I raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had all that much silver to just throw around.”
“I don’t . . . but some expenses are necessary. And if all of this works out, it won’t matter.”
“Let’s hope so.” My gaze fell on the pocket of his coat. “What’s there? Why’d you reach for it?”
Cedric hesitated and then produced a gleaming dagger. The hilt was silver, engraved with an intricate tree pattern. “A ritual blade. The angel Ozhiel’s blade. That’s the Tree of Life that connects all living things in this world to the next.”
I was too surprised to even make a joke about him worshipping trees after all. “You were . . . going to attack him with that?”
“If that’s what it took. I didn’t know his intentions.” Cedric grew thoughtful a few moments and then held out the dagger to me. “Here.”
“It’s beautiful, but I don’t really want some pagan knife.”
“Forget the religious implications. Keep it in case you find yourself in a situation where you need it.”
“That night I got the holly, you told me to drop my knife before I hurt someone.”
“Well, I was worried you’d hurt me. But anyone else? They’re fair game.”
“I don’t really know how to use this,” I said, taking the weapon in spite of myself.
“You’ll figure it out—you’ve always been good at defending yourself. But here’s a tip to get you started: If someone attacks you, just point the blade away from you and start hacking.”
“I see. I didn’t know you had a second job as a weapons master.”
The strongest wave we’d hit so far tumbled us into each other. A few items nearby shifted violently, and I nearly stabbed Cedric. “Probably not a good idea to have that out with all these waves,” he said.
I tucked the blade away, knowing I’d have to conceal it carefully among my belongings lest I be caught with an Alanzan artifact. I glanced around us as the ship swayed. “Is it just a few waves? We got into this because the captain went to take the wheel, remember?”
I could see Cedric considering this, that maybe we should’ve paid more attention to why the stateroom we’d raided had been abandoned in the first place. “I’m sure it’s—” Another jolt sent us reeling, and a crate fell, smashing beside us. “I think we should go,” he said.
I followed him out of the cargo room as wave after powerful wave rocked us. With no formalities or care for who saw, he hurried me quickly down the corridor, taking me to the Glittering Court’s common room. Just before we entered, I pulled him back.
“Cedric . . . you never told me. What am I to you?”
“You are . . .” He started to lift a hand to my face and then dropped it. “Out of my reach.”
I closed my eyes for a heartbeat as I let those words burn through me. My world swayed, and not because of the storm outside. I turned away, scared to meet his eyes, and entered the room. There, a pale-faced Miss Bradley paced, surrounded in the rest of our girls.
“Thank Uros you’re here,” she said, upon seeing us. “I just heard from Master Jasper—we’re in some kind of storm. The captain said it came out of nowhere. We’re ordered to stay below.”
“I need to go back out,” Cedric said.
I’d been about to sit and shot back up. “What? It’s dangerous! Now isn’t the time to do something stupid.”
“Adelaide,” scolded Miss Bradley, obviously not aware of the informality between Cedric and me.
“No more stupid than usual,” he replied and disappeared out the door.
I looked around the room, assessing my cohorts. Some stood alone, fighting their fear in their own stoic way. Others huddled in groups, crying and wailing. I did a quick head count and noticed we were one short.
“Mira! Where’s Mira?”
Miss Bradley shook her head, clearly distracted by her own panic. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to hope she took refuge in some other room.”
A sickening feeling—intensified by the almost constant rolling and rocking of the ship—welled up within me. Mira wasn’t in some other room, I was certain of it. She’d probably been on one of her illicit above-deck excursions. She was resourceful—but would she be able to get below in time?
I strode to the door, my gait unsteady. “I have to find her. I have to make sure she’s safe.” I struggled to make my voice heard above the creaking of the ship and wind wailing outside, both of which seemed to be increasing by the minute.
“Adelaide!” exclaimed Miss Bradley. “You will most certainly not!” She took a step toward me, but a wave threw her off-balance. I moved out the door, not looking back.