by Jane Glatt
Joosep knew a lot more of the little pieces than she did: it was possible that his Unseen Trait had been just unsettled enough that he sent her there to find out more. Which meant her assignment hadn’t been created to get her out of the way in order for Tarmo Holt to approach Inger.
But that didn’t mean it hadn’t been a secondary reason. She still wasn’t sure she could trust Joosep.
INSECTS BUZZING IN her ear woke her up. She waved a hand to shoo them away and rolled over and sat up. The sun was starting to set; she was surprised she’d slept that long.
It took a moment before she spotted Calder: he was sitting with his back against a tree a little farther into the forest.
“Do you have the water skin?” she called out.
He reached behind him, picked it up, and tossed it her way. It landed a few yards from where she sat, and she crawled over to retrieve it.
She took a swig: the water was warm. “I’ll refill it.” She emptied the water onto the sand and headed over to the spring.
She’d had a drink and was filling the water skin when Calder joined her. She moved out of the way, and he cupped his hand against the rock to collect water.
“I didn’t catch any fish,” he said when he’d finished drinking.
“So, we should go,” Dag said. Now that they were leaving, she was nervous. What if the meeting had already happened? What if trying to stay safe had made them miss the opportunity to find out who the pirate’s backer was? She tucked the water skin into her waistband.
She’d have to trust Calder’s Luck that they would find what they needed, which she hated. She didn’t think he was hiding anything from her—her Trait hadn’t been triggered—but she didn’t like trusting him: she didn’t like trusting anyone. In her experience, most people had secrets. Her Trait meant that she eventually knew what they were: which often led to her being disappointed.
Besides, Calder said his Trait would lead him to what he needed to know. And that was different from what she wanted to know: which was how to get Inger out from Ursa and Margit Ansdottir’s influence.
She tied her boots together and slung them around her neck. Calder boosted her up the rock, and she climbed up and over the edge, staying low in case pirates were on the larger beach.
No one was in sight, so she scurried over to hunch behind the upside-down dinghy and peer out to sea. No ships were anchored off shore; no smaller boats bobbed on the water.
She returned and looked over the edge of the rock at Calder, who was staring up at her. He handed the bundled tarp to her: she grabbed it and set it down beside her, turning back to help Calder. But before she could offer him a hand he’d scrambled up the rock and was standing beside her.
“I’m used to climbing up and down rigging,” he explained. He leaned down and picked up the bundle and headed towards the dinghy.
It took only a few minutes to get the boat righted and into the surf. Two sets of oars had been stored underneath it, and Calder held the boat steady while Dag loaded one set of oars. She dropped her boots into the bottom of the boat and climbed in. Calder shoved the boat away from the beach and hopped in.
“You sit here,” he pointed to the prow. “And keep watch.”
She nodded: because of her Trait, she’d be able to see any hidden dangers before Calder did. She half-crawled past him and perched on the seat, facing the sea, while he settled the oars into place. Soon the small craft was heading away from the beach.
Dag lurched in time to the choppy motion of the dinghy as Calder rowed them along the shore line. It was faster than walking, but even though there was no sign of anyone on either land or sea, she felt exposed. They rounded a small point of land, and she studied the beach. The cabins here had seemed abandoned both times she’d passed them, and they were counting on that remaining the case. There was still no sign of life: no smoke from a fire; no people about; nothing seemed to have been disturbed since she’d last seen the cabins.
She turned and tapped Calder on the shoulder. He stopped rowing and twisted his head to meet her gaze.
“I think we can go ashore here,” she said quietly.
Calder nodded and glanced over his shoulder, looking past her to the beach. A few minutes later she heard the bottom of the boat scrape the sand. Calder pulled the oars in and then jumped out into the surf.
Dag followed, stepping out into water that came up just past her knees. She helped Calder drag the boat right up onto the beach. He grabbed the bundle of weapons, and she picked up both sets of boots and followed him to one of the cabins.
“We might need these now,” he said. He unrolled the tarp to expose the guns. He handed her a pistol—she’d been trained in their use, the same as every Intelligencer—and took one for himself, along with a couple of curved knives.
It took them a few moments to load shot and powder into the guns. While Calder contended with the tarp, trying to fashion a harness for the knives, Dag pulled her boots on: they were stiff after being in salt water again, but she was able to get her feet into them.
“Do we leave the dinghy here?” she asked. “Or send it out to sea?”
“Leave it in case we can’t make it north,” Calder replied, “and have to come back this way. At least we won’t be forced to stay on land.”
“All right,” Dag said. If they had to come back this way, that meant they’d been spotted. She wasn’t sure how fast Calder could row, but she was certain one of the sailboats would be faster. So that made it easy: they couldn’t be seen. “I’ll lead.”
“I’ll . . .” Calder stopped mid-sentence. “You lead.”
“Let’s go.” She set off along the path. They were close to the settlement: she’d known that, but it seemed like she’d taken only a few steps before she was looking out at the tavern. The lights were blazing, which she hoped meant that they were in time for Ansdottir’s meeting. She signalled to Calder that she was going to scout ahead, and without waiting for his response, she stepped into the shadow of the tavern.
She made her way to the back past the storage room where Hanne had tried to lock her up. The door was ajar and she peered in: it was empty, as she’d expected. A broken lock lay on the ground, and she suppressed a grin. She liked the thought of Hanne waiting for someone to rescue her.
The door that led to the living quarters was closed, and for a moment Dag was tempted to enter and see if Inger was in her room. But her sister would be with Ansdottir, she was sure of it. Her Trait indicated that the captain had a secret that involved Inger, so she probably wouldn’t want her to be too far away.
The kitchen door opened and light spilled out, along with someone’s shadow. Probably Espen the cook, enjoying a cool breeze after supper was finished. The shadow receded, but the door remained open. Dag peered in—Espen’s back was to her, so she darted past.
There was only one more door: the one that led to the tap room. It allowed easy access for the barrels of ale and cider that were delivered to the bar. She eased the door open a crack and crouched low to the ground as she peered in.
Dag didn’t see anyone although she could hear the low-level hum of multiple voices. She hesitated, wondering if she should go in.
“Get another jug, would you, Inger?” a voice said from nearby. Dag tried to make herself smaller as her sister walked into view.
“The apple or the pear?” Inger asked. She put an empty pitcher on the bar.
“Pear,” Ursa replied, stepping into view. “It’s Margit’s favourite. Did you get the plate Espen made up for your supper?”
“Yes, thanks,” Inger replied. “You seem happy, so I assume the meeting went well?”
“It did,” Ursa replied, and Dag could hear the satisfaction in her voice. “You will have a special part to play, in the future. Margit was very sorry that you couldn’t be allowed to meet our guest, but you will. Soon.”
“I just want to help,” Inger said. She walked past the bar and back out into the tavern, followed by Ursa.
Dag closed the
door and edged away from it. The meeting was over—they’d known it was a risk that they’d miss it—and it looked like even Inger didn’t know who the backer was. She should return to Calder and let him know. They still had to get past all of the buildings of the small settlement to reach the path that led south to the sailboat.
“Watcha doing?”
She’d been seen! Dag covered up her shock at her Trait not keeping her hidden and slowly stood up and turned around. It was a sailor she’d never seen before. He didn’t look very old, and she wondered if he’d been taken in by the pirates as a child.
“Just tying my bootlace,” she said. “I didn’t want to trip out here in the dark. What are you doing?” She edged away from the door, wanting to keep their conversation from drifting inside.
“I was told there was a shower contraption out here,” the sailor said. “Never seen one myself.”
“I can show you,” Dag said. “This way.” He wasn’t a pirate then: the children had their own shower. She walked towards the open kitchen door, horrified to see Espen standing in the doorway.
“Thanks for the plate, Espen,” Dag said. “My friend here is curious about the bathing closet.”
“You already thanked me,” Espen said. He frowned, but Dag smiled brightly and led the sailor past him. She pointed at the shower, expecting to hear Espen call for help, but if he realized that she wasn’t Inger, he didn’t call anyone to chase her down.
She babbled a few things about the shower to the sailor, wondering how she could get rid of him. He stepped into the shower and came out shaking his head.
“Hear they have these in Pilalia,” he said.
“In every home.” Calder stepped out of the shadows. “But with freshwater, not seawater like this one.”
“You’ve been to Pilalia?” the sailor asked, peering at Calder.
Calder signalled for Dag to come to him, so she wandered his way.
“He promised to take me there,” she said when she reached his side. Calder looped an arm over her shoulder. “Unless he’s been lying to me.”
“Never,” Calder said. “Now come on, you know my time ashore is limited.” He spun the two of them around, and they started to head away. Calder turned his head to the sailor. “You understand, right?” The sailor guffawed as she and Calder walked away. Once they were around the side of the tavern, Dag slid out from under his arm.
“Thanks. The meeting is over, and we need to get going.”
“What about Inger?”
“She’s in the tavern with Ansdottir and Ursa.” She shook her head. “There’s no way to talk to her alone. She’s safe enough for now. Ursa said they have a part for her to play.” She looked around. “But someone saw me. I pretended to be Inger, and I think they believed me but if they didn’t . . .” She didn’t have to tell him that every sailor in the settlement would be looking for them if Ansdottir realized they were here.
“Then let’s get through the square,” Calder said.
Dag nodded and stepped back into shadows. The sailor was gone: apparently his curiosity about the shower had been satisfied, and the door to the kitchen was closed now. She led Calder past the kitchen and the door to the taproom. At the corner of the building, she paused. A shaft of moonlight bathed the patch of ground between the tavern and the inn. She peered out at the square: a couple of lights flickered. Torches, but whose?
She ducked back into the shadow, her shoulder touching Calder’s.
“I think someone is in the square,” she said. “And I don’t remember there being a lot of hiding places.”
“It’s time to trust my Trait,” Calder said. “Keep your head down and pretend you’re so drunk that you can hardly stand.” He put an arm over her shoulder, and she tucked her head against his chest.
Weaving, Calder steered them out into the open. He pulled at her just enough that she legitimately had trouble walking in a straight line. Calder started to sing in what she recognized as Arressan, his voice loud and off-key. Dag shifted her head enough to see that they were just on the edge of the square. A group of people were across from them, stacking boxes and crates by the light of a couple of torches. She saw a few barrels of what could be ale or cider.
“Heya,” one of the men called. “You Arressan?”
“Who’s asking?” Calder replied, his speech slurred.
“I recognized the song is all,” the other person replied. Dag stumbled into Calder who laughed as they both almost fell.
“Oops,” Calder said. “My woman might have had a bit too much to drink. And I haven’t had enough!” he laughed loudly at his own joke. “What ship are you with?” Calder asked.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious,” Calder said. “Crewed on my share of hulks on the Pale Sea’s all.” Calder weaved a little before heading them across the square.
“It’s the Neas,” the sailor called out after them. “Out of North Tarklee. Since you’re curious.”
Dag felt Calder suck in a breath and pause for just a second. “Ah, I never shipped out on that one, but I hear she’s fast.”
“You heard right,” the sailor said.
They took a few more steps, and Calder started singing again. Someone laughed—possibly the sailor who had spoken—and joined in. A few moments later Calder steered them off the stones of the square and onto the dirt path she’d taken a few days ago. Once they were out of view of the square, Calder stopped singing.
“What’s the Neas?” Dag asked. She stepped out in front of him. “Why did that name surprise you?”
“It’s a ship that belongs to Tarmo Holt,” Calder replied.
“Skit!” Dag swore. “Everything seems to come back to Tarmo Holt. Do you think he’s the one backing the pirates?”
“Maybe. Or it could be someone who works for him.”
“Which means it would be him, whether he’s here or not.” She sighed. “Couldn’t that ship have legitimate business here? It looked like they were unloading kegs for the tavern.”
“What does your Trait tell you?” Calder asked.
“The best way to hide is in plain sight. I have to get Inger.” She started to turn back the way they’d come, but Calder caught her. “Let me go! Holt is after Inger: I won’t let him have her!”
“No. You’ll be caught.”
“What do you care? The sailboat is that way. It should take about an hour for you to reach it, and then you can sail away and report to Joosep. I need to get Inger.”
“No,” Calder said. He tightened his grip. “We need both of our Traits to escape.”
“I don’t care! I heard Ursa tell my sister that she has a special task, and Tarmo Holt is here! They’re going to give her to him, I know it.”
“They might be planning that,” Calder agreed. “But talking to her didn’t help before and it won’t help now. You know that.”
“Skit,” Dag repeated. She blew her breath out, feeling deflated. “I do know that.” She stopped struggling, and Calder relaxed his grip on her. She could run from him now, but he was right: Inger wouldn’t listen to her—not fast enough for them both to escape. The only result of her going after Inger now would be that she’d be caught and locked up. And they wouldn’t leave that to Hanne. No, Ansdottir or Ursa would lock her up, and she had a feeling that would mean no chance of escape.
“We stick to our plan,” Calder said. “Get the sailboat and leave.”
“You’re right.” Dag hated saying it, but it was true. “This way.” The trees seemed to close in on her as she stepped under their branches and onto the path. Just enough moonlight filtered down for her to see the path. She was concentrating so hard on her footing that she didn’t immediately identify the sounds as shouts.
“I think we’re being followed,” Calder said. “We need to move faster.”
Dag looked up and cocked her head. More calls came from behind them. “I’ll go as fast as I think is safe for you in this light,” she said, hoping it would be fast enough.
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Chapter 13
CALDER FOLLOWED DAG as closely as he could, watching as she identified hazards on the path. She pointed down with her left hand, and he slowed to navigate around a tree root. They’d been half-running for about fifteen minutes and whoever was chasing them had gained on them. He was pretty sure Dag could travel faster in the dark without him, but they needed to stay together.
He heard someone cry out in pain: proof that despite the torches their pursuers carried, they were still having trouble seeing all of the obstacles on the path.
Dag’s hand pointed to the right. “Watch your step,” she whispered over her shoulder. She leaped over a rock, and Calder copied her foot placement. A minute later he heard a thud and a muffled groan from behind them: someone hadn’t seen the rock.
Suddenly, the trees thinned out and the path ended at a beach. Dag broke into a sprint and he followed, the Pilalian short swords slapping against his legs as he ran. The beach ended at a large rock, but even though he slowed, Dag didn’t pause. She jumped up and clutched at a scraggly tree, using it to help her scramble to the top of the rock. Calder leaped up, grabbing the tree and pulling himself up after her.
Dag had slowed to edge along a narrow ledge that clung to the side of the rock, and Calder followed her onto the exposed path. There were no trees to hide them from view, but there was enough moonlight for him to see where to put his feet. He glanced back along the beach as a torch burst through the trees, the shadowy shapes of their pursuers crowding behind it.
“Hurry,” Dag called.
He shuffled after her along a path that curved behind an outcrop, effectively hiding them from their pursuers. Would the pirates find their way up the rock to follow them? He wouldn’t have seen the way up if Dag hadn’t gone first, especially not at night, but the pirates knew this island, and they knew he and Dag had gone somewhere.
Dag was ahead of him, and he followed as fast as he could while making sure his footing was stable. He paused and glanced toward the sea: and froze.