The Ship Beyond Time (The Girl from Everywhere #2)

 

“I have a guess,” was all he said. He stood and went to his closet, letting the coverlet fall away completely. I couldn’t help but stare. Kash had always been shameless, and I was no prude; last night had not been the first time I’d seen him—what did he call it? Dishabille. But the way he stood now—his back to me, one hip cocked, his left hand on the back of his neck . . . it made my heart thunder and my fingertips tingle, as though my blood had turned to seafoam.

 

But from above came the sound of small feet pacing, so I turned toward my trunk and dug my hands through my clothes, and even the roughest material felt like silk against my skin. As I dressed, I stole glances at Kashmir out of the corner of my eye—the way his thigh flexed as he stepped into his trousers. The taut muscles of his back as he pulled his shirt over his head. The tilt of his head as he pinned his cuffs. And on his belt, the lock he’d taken from the Brooklyn Bridge that day. As he buckled it on, he looked up through his lashes. “If I had time and music, I could do it better in reverse.”

 

My face went red, but he only grinned.

 

“Are you coming?” Dahut’s voice drifted down the hatch.

 

“Patience!” Kashmir called, but I remembered then what she’d wanted, and I dug the vial of mercury out from the bottom of my trunk. “What is that?” he said, holding the door.

 

“A cure-all from Qin’s tomb. It might help her memory.”

 

Abovedecks, the wintery air cooled my cheeks. Dahut was waiting there in her enormous skirts, her expression half impatient and half afraid. As we climbed through the hatch, she held up her diary. “You told me we were friends,” she said to Kashmir. “Was that true?”

 

He didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

 

“Good. I need to escape. Here I am.”

 

Kash sighed and gave me a look that was almost apologetic. “I told you she’d want to come with us.”

 

I considered it, tilting the bottle of mercury back and forth in my hands. At first blush, it seemed so wrong to take her from Crowhurst, to a place where he could not follow. After all, I’d had my own difficulties with my father, but I’d never actually cut him from my life. Then again, Slate and Crowhurst were not the same man. “Why?” I said at last. “Why do you want to go?”

 

“This place gives me nightmares,” she said darkly. “I don’t like it here.”

 

“You’re running away because you get bad dreams?” I gave her a dubious look, but Kash put his hand on my arm.

 

“What are your nightmares about, Dahut?”

 

“Drowning,” she said, and something squirmed like an eel in my belly. Was it only coincidence that she dreamed of the way the myth ended? “Will you help me or not?”

 

Kash looked at me, a plea in his eyes, but I was already nodding. Hope broke like dawn on Dahut’s face, and seeing it steeled something in me. “All right,” I said firmly. “Bring whatever you need to the dock. We’ll gather the crew and leave tonight.”

 

“Tonight? No.” Her smile fell away. “It has to be now, before my father wakes up.”

 

I stared at her, at a loss. “Even if I wanted to leave them behind, this ship can’t sail without a crew.”

 

“If he finds out I took his keys, he’ll stop me!”

 

A chill skittered up my spine as another piece of the legend fell into place. “You took his keys?”

 

“So he can’t follow me on the yacht.”

 

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “We will get you somewhere safe, Dahut, I promise. Just . . . just give me an hour.”

 

“Crowhurst won’t stop you,” Kash added. “Even if he wakes up, trust me, we can sneak you out.”

 

“You don’t understand,” she said, her mouth twisting. “If he finds me, he’ll make me forget I wanted to leave.”

 

I blinked at her. “What do you mean by that?”

 

But Dahut had run out of patience. “Never mind,” she muttered, striding down the gangplank and toward the Dark Horse.

 

Kash rushed to the rail as she scrambled aboard the yacht. “What do you mean, he’ll make you forget?”

 

Her only response was to fit the keys to the ignition.

 

“Dahut, wait!”

 

The motor purred as she pressed the throttle, and I had half a mind to let her go. After all, if she fled, she still couldn’t open the sea gates. But that wouldn’t guarantee her safety. And I needed to know what she meant about forgetting. Kashmir was one step ahead of me—as she pulled away from the pier, he vaulted over the rail of the Temptation and onto the deck of the Dark Horse.