by Jane Glatt
But she didn’t shoot.
“Stop,” Ansdottir called out in a booming voice. “You have no place to go.”
Calder did something and their boat swerved towards Ansdottir’s. The pirate captain tucked the pistol into her waistband and wrenched the tiller with both hands until they were no longer on a crash course.
“Charis said you were good,” Ansdottir said, and then she laughed. “I can always use a good sailor.”
“I want my sister!” Dag called.
“She’s mine now,” Ansdottir said. “There’s nothing you can do about that. But I can make her hurt herself if you don’t stop this.”
“No!” Dag wasn’t sure if Ansdottir was telling the truth, but it had only taken Ursa a few minutes to convince Inger that she—her twin—had lied to her. She couldn’t take a chance that Ansdottir could do what she said she could.
The two boats were close now. Calder was purposely heading directly at Ansdottir. The pirate in the second boat was giving them all a wide berth. Without thinking, Dag stood and launched herself into the sea. She thought she heard Calder’s shout of dismay, and then she hit the water.
It was cold, much colder than the sea had been near the beach. Her head went under, and then she was struggling to reach the surface. Her hands felt like ice, then like lead, weighing her down. A large hand gripped her arm, and she was pulled up and over a gunwale. As she lay gasping for breath on the bottom of a boat, a figure loomed over her. She looked up at Margit Ansdottir.
“I didn’t expect that,” Ansdottir said. Then she laughed. “I like being surprised.” She looked away from Dag. “Leave him,” Ansdottir called out. “We got what we came for.” Still chuckling, Ansdottir headed back to the stern. She grabbed the tiller and pushed it away from her. Dag felt the boat slow as it turned, the wind no longer filling the sail. She wanted to look to make sure Calder had escaped, but a fit of shivering struck her and she couldn’t move. By the time the shivering passed and she had the energy to lift her head, the boat had rounded a point and was heading into the bay at Strongrock; Calder was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter 14
JOOSEP TURNED THE corner and skidded to a stop. Gustav was waiting in front of his office door, a frown on his usually smiling face.
“Inside,” Joosep said as he quickly unlocked his door. He peered around, worried that someone had seen Gustav waiting for him.
He hadn’t felt the need to lock his office until the day he’d found Tarmo Holt inside: was that something Holt had done on purpose? Had he wanted to ensure that Joosep locked his office door so that his spies could see who waited outside it? Had he put Gustav in even more danger? All he could do was hope that it was early enough that no one had noticed the youth.
Joosep sat at his desk and gestured to a chair, but Gustav didn’t sit. Instead, he paced in front of it.
“Report,” Joosep said, hoping that his terseness would somehow calm the lad down. He had to admit that seeing the genial Gustav worried rattled him.
“I know who poisoned me,” Gustav said. He paused to shrug. “I feel so stupid. It was Asla Holt. She didn’t want me seeing her daughter, and Saulia wouldn’t listen to her.”
“The wife,” Joosep said. “Do you think Tarmo Holt knew?” And did Asla Holt have a Trait? Joosep didn’t see how anyone without one could try to harm Gustav.
“No, neither did Saulia. She was furious with her mother.” Gustav finally sat down. “Saulia threatened to tell her father, and Asla did not want that.”
“But she didn’t tell him,” Joosep said. “At least, I haven’t heard that Holt reported a poisoning.”
“He’s not here,” Gustav said. “He’s due back in a few days.”
“What?” This was news. As Grand Freeholder, Tarmo Holt had a duty to inform the people who reported to him when he would be unavailable. “Are you sure?”
“Saulia was,” Gustav replied. “And her mother seemed to agree. They argued about this in front of me. I don’t think I’ll be getting any more invitations to dine with the Holts.” Gustav grinned. “Although now that Saulia knows her mother poisoned me I think it would be safe.”
“You will not accept an invitation if it comes,” Joosep said. “Your assignment is complete. But this is interesting information.” What it meant, exactly, he didn’t know.
“Don’t you want to know where Tarmo Holt is?” Gustav asked.
“You know?”
“Well, he might not be there right this minute,” Gustav said, “but he was on his ship, and it was heading to Strongrock.”
“Why would he be going there?” Joosep asked. The island wasn’t part of the treaty—it claimed to be neutral—so what business did the Grand Freeholder of the Fair Seas Treaty Alliance have on Strongrock?
“Holt’s wife and daughter wondered the same thing,” Gustav said. “And they were angry because he’d been there just over a month ago. Holt expects them to lie and pretend he’s at home. I heard Asla tell someone that her husband was ill in bed.”
“Thank you, Gustav,” Joosep said. “That’s very helpful.”
“Is my assignment still completed?” Gustav asked. He stood up but fidgeted and didn’t make a move to leave. “I was worried that you’d say that because I don’t want it to be.”
Joosep met Gustav’s eyes, trying with all his might not to smile. It was hard to be objective with the youth: he had to make sure he never forgot that.
“I don’t want you in their house,” Joosep said, giving in. “For your own safety you will only meet Saulia in public.” Joosep sighed. “And please don’t stand around outside my office again. It’s too conspicuous.”
Gustav nodded and left, and Joosep had to hope he hadn’t made a mistake. The youth wasn’t quite half-trained, and he hated to put him in more danger, but the information he’d gathered was far too valuable for him to ignore. Joosep knew that Holt was planning something, and having a spy so close to him was critical to finding out what that was. But he had to wonder if he was agreeing to this because he’d fallen under the spell of Gustav’s Charisma.
CALDER SCANNED THE sea on all four compass points before pulling the sail back over him. It was almost noon, and the sun was high in the sky. So far it was still bearable under the canvas, but that wouldn’t last. He licked his parched lips, tasting salt from the air. He’d need water before the end of the day, otherwise he might become too light-headed to navigate.
He’d been so startled when Dag jumped overboard that it had taken him ten minutes to get the sailboat turned around. By that time Ansdottir had already plucked Dag from the sea. He’d watched them head back towards Strongrock knowing that he had no way to catch up to them, let alone rescue her.
What had she been thinking? Ansdottir had said something to Dag, and because his attention had been focused on sailing, he hadn’t heard it. A threat to Inger, was what he thought, but why had Dag believed the pirate captain? Ursa had said that they had plans for Inger. What had changed?
He sighed. He’d have to go after her, of course. He wasn’t sure she expected him to: he hadn’t expected to make this choice. But there it was. He was going to risk his life for Dagrun Lund and her sister, if she’d come with them. And if Inger said no, he’d make Dag leave her behind, even if it meant she hated him for it. Because somehow Dag had become incredibly important to him, and not just to help stop whatever Tarmo Holt and the pirates were planning. He shook his head. She didn’t even trust him.
He lifted the canvas off his face and took another look around. No ships, no gulls, no one to see which direction he headed.
It took only a few minutes to raise the sail and point the little boat southward. An hour later he reached the shoreline. Dead trees cascaded down rocky cliffs as though even they were trying to escape the Blighted Woods. Keeping well away from the rocks, Calder turned east.
It was mid-afternoon by the time the Teeth were in sight. Keeping the Teeth to starboard, he steered north.
It was the long route ba
ck to Strongrock Island, but it was the best way to be sure—without any other way to navigate—that he wouldn’t sail directly into the pirate settlement.
On this side of the Teeth the only ships he would cross paths with would belong to the pirates, so Calder constantly scanned for sails. He saw nothing on the horizon and began to hope that he would be able to return to Strongrock undetected.
The sun was setting by the time he finally reached Strongrock Island. He sailed west, hugging the coast, until he recognized the large beach where the pirates landed. In a few minutes he was in the small cove.
He pulled the sail down, hopped into the surf, and dragged the boat up onto the beach before heading to the spring.
He drank slowly, so it took a few minutes to slake his thirst. His lips were still cracked, but he was already recovering his energy. He slapped some water on his head and his neck, enjoying the way the breeze cooled his skin.
With a sigh, he turned to his tasks.
He pulled the little sailboat higher up onto the beach to make it safe from the surf but also easy to relaunch quickly, if he had to. He tied the sail between two trees to dry before unpacking the guns to retrieve the fishing net. He placed the net in the same spot as last time and sat down under a tree to wait and hope he was lucky enough to catch dinner.
HE WOKE TO darkness. Stars twinkled overhead, and the waning moon illuminated the quiet, deserted beach.
He hadn’t meant to sleep so long: it was a testament to just how draining the day had been. He waded out to the net, half expecting it to be gone. Instead, his Luck held. Not only was the net there, but three fish were tangled up in it.
Not willing to chance a fire, Calder cleaned and gutted the fish by moonlight and after washing them in the sea, ate the fish raw.
He drank more water before lying down to get more sleep. His last thought was that in the morning he’d follow the path to the weapons and find the small cache he’d hidden there. And then he’d figure out how to rescue Dag.
WATER DRIPPED ONTO her lips and reflexively she sucked the drops into her mouth. She couldn’t move her arms, but she was so warm—finally—that she didn’t care. After a few weak struggles she gave up and just lay there, sucking water droplets into her mouth.
“Are you awake?” Inger asked, her voice said close to her ear. “Dag, are you awake?”
“Yes, awake,” Dag mumbled. “Water, more water.” Someone sighed loudly, and her head was tilted and a cool mug was pressed against her lips. She drew in a big gulp and sputtered.
“Slow down,” Inger said, and this time it registered that her sister was with her
Dag looked up to see her sister’s worried face hovering over hers. She tried to talk, but she coughed instead, and water trailed down her chin.
“Shhh,” Inger said. “Take it easy. You scared me, Dag. Captain Ansdottir said you might never wake up. Another minute in the water and you might not have.”
Dag struggled, but her arms were pinned at her side.
“Here.” Inger did something, and Dag was able to free her arms. She shoved a blanket lower and sat up, leaning her head against a wooden wall behind her.
“Where are we?” Dag croaked. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and shivered. Inger pulled the blanket up around her chin.
“We’re in Strongrock,” Inger said. “At the inn. Captain brought you here straight away.”
“Why?” Dag asked, when what she meant was, why was she still alive? Ursa wanted her dead, so if another minute would have accomplished that, why wasn’t she?
“The inn is closer to the dock than my room,” Inger said, as usual answering the obvious question. “Captain Ansdottir saved you, Dag, she saved you.”
That’s why, Dag thought. Ansdottir had Inger’s gratitude. What would Inger agree to do in order to pay off this debt? What would Ansdottir expect to do with Inger’s co-operation?
“I need to leave,” Dag said. She struggled to move her legs, but a spasm of shivering left her weak. She closed her eyes. She wouldn’t have thought a few minutes in cold water could sap her strength so completely, but there it was. She wasn’t going anywhere for at least a day.
“No,” Inger said. “You need to stay! With me!” She pushed Dag over a little and sat beside her on the bed. “I told the captain that you’d changed your mind, that you realized that you didn’t want to leave your twin.” Inger sounded very pleased with herself. “And that we’d only argued because I wanted to live my life, not yours.”
“Did she believe it?” Dag asked. Ansdottir had a bit of the Unseen Trait, but Inger wasn’t trying to fool her—Inger could never try to fool anyone.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Inger asked. “It’s the truth. I told you I was tired of living in your shadow, and next thing I know, you jump out of a boat so you can stay here, with me.”
“Sure,” Dag said. Would this give her enough time to recover? She hadn’t changed her mind, but right now she didn’t have the energy to explain to Inger that she’d jumped because Captain Ansdottir had threatened her. “Can I have some more water?” she asked. “And maybe something to eat?” She’d concentrate on regaining her strength and worry about how to get both her and Inger off Strongrock later.
“Oh, sure,” Inger jumped off the bed and grabbed the glass from a small side table. “Here’s the water, can you hold it yourself?” She handed the glass to Dag, who took a sip and balanced the glass on her chest. “Ursa said there’s soup. I’ll go get you some.” She smiled and left the room.
Dag took another sip of water before setting the glass on the table. She was pleased that she’d only spilled a few drops. She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. As she drifted back to sleep she heard the door open.
Inger was back with soup, and it took all of Dag’s energy just to eat it. Her sister was still talking when Dag fell asleep again.
SOMETHING UNDERNEATH HIM was cold. Calder opened his eyes to the underside of the tarp that he’d pulled over him before he’d gone to sleep. Rain drops splatted against it. He rolled over, away from the cold rivulet that had seeped under him, and yawned. It was too late for the sail, it would already be wet and . . . he sat up and pushed the tarp off his face. He ignored the rain as he looked around.
At least an hour, that’s how long he thought it had been raining. His boots were wet and possibly ruined, but he pulled them on anyway, not willing to leave them behind.
If he was Lucky his little weapons cache would still be dry. He rolled the tarp up and tucked it under a tree before heading out into the gentle surf.
Climbing up the rock, his boots gave him more trouble than the rain did, but soon he was at the top, surveying the larger beach.
The dinghy was missing because he and Dag had used it to get to Strongrock and no one had replaced it. Did that mean the pirates hadn’t been back here? He didn’t see any ships or sailboats out at sea.
He skirted the beach and headed towards the path in the forest. Soaked trees dripped onto him and muddy puddles dotted the path.
When he reached the clearing, he took some satisfaction that the rain had drenched all of the crates: these weapons would need a lot of work before they were usable.
At his own little stockpile, so far the tarp was keeping the rain off, but the ground was becoming saturated. It looked like he’d come just in time to save everything. It was all coming with him now anyway.
So he didn’t have to make two trips, Calder bundled everything into the tarp and dragged it behind him back to the beach. It would leave signs that something had passed this way, but it would erase his footprints.
He looked down at the shallow cove, wondering how to keep everything dry while transferring it to the smaller beach. It was raining harder now, and the bundle he was holding was already becoming slippery.
He’d need two trips for this, rather than risk ruining everything he had with one slip.
He found a dry spot under some trees, toed a couple of rocks into place, and
set the crate of guns down on them. He propped the crate against the trunk of the tree and covered it with half of the tarp. He covered the powder cask with the other piece of tarp and carried it back to the rock ledge that led to the smaller beach.
It wasn’t graceful, but he was able to get the cask down safe and dry. He waded ashore and, after laying down some rocks to keep everything off the ground, set the cask down under the tree, added the rest of his goods, and tucked the tarp around it all. Now he just needed the crate of guns.
Calder waded back out into the surf and climbed the rock once again. His head down against the rain, he stepped onto the beach.
There was a shout and he looked up: three pirates were on shore, heading towards him, and he cursed himself for his carelessness.
There wasn’t enough time to get back to the beach and get the sails up on the sailboat before they caught up to him: if he lost the sailboat he lost his way off the island. For him and for Dag.
Instead, he ran into the densest part of the forest. He crossed the path that led to the clearing but kept going. Among the dense trees and bushes his boots gave him the advantage over the barefoot sailors.
He could hear at least two people following him. He angled away from the clearing, trying to be careful about where he put his feet; he couldn’t afford to hurt himself, not if he wanted to escape.
Just past a large tree, he stopped. A marsh lay ahead, its reeds and tall grass crowding a hillock on the far side of a pool of brackish water. The rain had stopped and insects clouded around him. He gingerly stepped into the water. Strongrock was too far north for snakes, but he expected that something called this pond home. He only hoped it wasn’t dangerous to him.
He took another careful step, putting his other foot into the same muck. The swamp sucked at his boot when he removed it, squelching as mud and decomposing leafy matter clung to the leather. One more long step and his foot found solid ground on a small clump of grass.