The Swallow was every bit as fast as Sothe had claimed. Captain Kerrak—?a tall, thin, nervous-?looking man who Winter was increasingly certain was a smuggler—?pointed out the landmarks of the Split Coast as they went past. The great expanse of western Murnsk, which had seemed so vast and intractable when the Grand Army had been marching through it, slipped by them like a dream. Salavask and Vorsk, both port cities like Dimiotsk, and then Yatterny on the Vordanai border. From there their course swung west, through the narrow Borel Sea that separated Borel from Vordan. The massive cliffs of the Jaw loomed on their left, glimpsed through a haze of rain on a choppy sea.
The days were getting colder, and the wind stronger, though the captain assured them it would be weeks yet before winter storms might imperil the Swallow. They sighted few other ships, especially once they were close to the Vordanai coast. A couple of fishing vessels and some local traders. Once, a Borelgai frigate came into view on the horizon, but either its crew didn’t notice them or the rumors of blockade were false after all; Captain Kerrak didn’t even have to run up his false colors.
Poor Abraham had it worst. Something in the motion of the ship, the endless rise and fall on the waves, played havoc with his stomach, and he spent most of the first few days with his head over the rail. After that, matters improved somewhat, although whether that was because he had gotten used to it or because he simply had nothing left in his guts wasn’t clear. He spent most of his time in silent contemplation, tucked away in a nook by the rail.
Alex, on the other hand, was having a wonderful time. She climbed the rigging as easily as any seaman. The Swallow’s sailors, who Winter found to be a pretty taciturn lot, were taken with Alex almost to a man, especially since she was willing to hurl colorful insults as quickly as any of them. A few of the young men seemed to have more than simple camaraderie on their minds, which worried Winter only for a moment. Alex can take care of herself.
As for their hosts, Ennika spent all her time closeted in the forward cabin, which she shared with Sothe. The assassin was more visible, talking with Captain Kerrak and spending time on deck, but after a few days Winter got the distinct sense that Sothe was avoiding her, inasmuch as it was possible to do so on a ship the size of the Swallow.
Winter had expected to be bored, but she found the journey oddly restful. Her mind had been whirling, full of plans and contingencies, ever since the Steel Ghost had returned to the Mountain. Sitting on the deck, with gray-?green ocean extending to the horizon and her ears full of the creaks and groans of a ship under sail, she felt... peaceful.
As long as we’re aboard, there’s nothing I should be doing. The enforced waiting meant a break from the guilt, the knowledge that every minute she delayed might mean disaster. We’re going as fast as we can, for once.
Eventually they turned south, rounding the tip of Vordan. Winter stood at the rail, watching the sun sink slowly into the western sea. Captain Kerrak’s sailors shouted things to one another, incomprehensible nautical jargon for the most part, but it all sounded cheerful. Abraham had a book in his lap, but as best Winter could tell he was asleep, head propped against a water barrel. Winter looked up to see Alex padding over, wearing a broad grin.
“Enjoying the breeze?” she said.
“Something like that,” Winter said. “Did you need something?”
“Do you think you could let me have the cabin for the next hour?”
“Let you have...” Winter frowned.
“The door doesn’t lock,” Alex said. “I didn’t want you to, ah...”
Her eyes went to the narrow stair that led belowdecks. A young sailor was waiting there, olive-?skinned and handsome, lounging against a post as he chatted to his colleagues. Winter raised her eyebrows.
“Ah,” she said.
“Yeah,” Alex said.
“I’ll be here,” Winter said. “Enjoying the breeze.”
“Great.” Alex’s smile widened. “It, um, may be more like an hour and a half.”
Once again Winter wondered if she should comment. Once again she decided Alex could take care of herself. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks.” Alex clapped Winter on the shoulder and hurried off. The young sailor said something to her, and then they were both laughing as they went down the stairs.
Winter wondered what it would be like, to spend an enjoyable hour or so in the intimate company of a near stranger for no better reason than that you found them attractive and willing. It was hard for her to imagine, like trying to picture living on the ocean floor. But Alex was a very different person, and she’d led a very different life.
A few moments after Alex vanished, Sothe appeared, wearing only tight leggings and a leather vest despite the chill wind. The assassin went through a complex exercise routine twice a day, a set of smooth, deceptively fast movements that were half dance, half combat. The sailors had cleared a space near the stern for her to use, but instead of heading that way, she came in Winter’s direction.
“Ennika had another... message,” Sothe said quietly. “She wanted to talk to you.”
“To me? Why?”
“I don’t know.” Sothe sighed and crossed her arms. They were covered in old, whitening scars, from tiny cuts to a long, jagged wound that must have laid open her biceps. Winter tried not to stare.
“Well.” Winter used the rail to pull herself up. “I’ve got nothing to do. I’ll see what she wants.”
“Thank you.” Sothe hesitated. “After I’ve finished, I think we need to talk, too.”
“Strategy? I’m not sure we have enough information.”
“Not exactly. It’s... complicated.” Sothe shook her head. “Later.”
A bit bemused, Winter went down the steps and to the forward cabin shared by Sothe and Ennika. That took her past her own door, and the noises from within made it abundantly clear what was happening there. There were no secrets on a ship as small as the Swallow. She did her best not to listen and knocked on the door to Ennika’s cabin.
“Come in,” the blind girl said.
The room was much like Winter’s own, with two bunks, one above the other, and a small table in one corner. Everything was fixed in place, as a precaution against rough seas. Ennika sat on the lower bunk, her sightless eyes aimed at the ceiling, running her fingers against the pages of a book.
“It’s me,” Winter said, after a moment. “Sothe said you wanted to talk.”
Ennika nodded. “Sit, if you like.”
Winter did, wedging herself awkwardly sideways on one of the immobile chairs to face the bed. Ennika turned a page, tracing a few more lines, then set the book aside.
“Can you really read that way?” Winter said, fascinated.