Well, Avi didn’t need to know the dark news about the Invaders. If it did come to war, Jakobden would be the last to feel it. There was plenty of sun to worry about that later.
“Are we on course?” I asked Avi.
“We are directly on course, Kaptan Kinneret. We’ll be in Silvania in no time.”
Silvania. Land of the proud, and too often, Jakobden and Old Farm’s competition for port control.
“I don’t like that smile, love,” Calev said into my ear. His breath flew over my skin.
A pleasant warmth trickled down my neck and arm. “I’m only excited to trade with our neighboring country.”
“You’re excited about having the best ship in their port.”
“It’s a nice bonus.”
The wind blew over my cheeks and fluffed the sails above us until they matched the blossoming clouds over head.
Avi watched the blue-gray sky’s petals of mist open and close. “Is it going to storm?”
Oron took a bite of a plum. “I hope so. Watching Kinneret silently boast about her accomplishments is getting boring. When do I get a turn at the wheel, great kaptan?”
“Maybe right now.” I turned to look into Calev’s eyes and nodded toward the kaptan’s quarters, my quarters.
Serhat ran a hand over her blond hair and waved to Avi, getting her to help teach a new sailor how to read the wind.
Calev met my gaze, his eyes hot. “There’s definitely going to be a storm.”
I gave Calev a teasing grin. “You’re terrible at judging the weather.”
He just glared and raised one eyebrow. “Am I wrong?” He wasn’t talking about the weather.
Desire zinged down my body. “Oron can handle it,” I said. “Can’t you, Oron?”
Oron raised his chin and straightened his new tunic. The shapes were too tiny to be sure, but I guessed they were naked women. How he’d persuaded a fabric worker to create something like that…
“I’m insulted you’d even question it,” he said.
I left him with the wheel and led Calev down the stairs and under the deck to my door. I remembered knocking on this door when Amir Mamluk was behind it. With Berker.
With a kick, the heavy oak door gave way. Calev slid hands around my middle and followed me inside. His fingers tripped over my sash and found skin where my shirt met my skirt. I shivered and used a foot to slam the door shut on the old, sour memories of Berker and Mamluk, very ready to make new ones with the black-eyed, soul-lifting, luck-made-flesh love of my life.
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Fever: An Uncommon World Novella Page 8