Markos skidded into view, almost toppling me. “Oof!”
As I recovered my balance, he shut the door and let the bar slam down, locking it. We clattered down the short staircase.
“It’s a dead end!” There was panic in Kenté’s voice.
I nodded toward the back of the cellar. “Look.”
A yellowed rectangular window, coated in spiderwebs, spread lengthwise along the ceiling. Nimbly Fee leaped to the top of a rickety pile of boxes. She rattled the window and then, finding the latch stuck, broke the glass with the blunt end of her knife.
She wriggled through. “Safe,” she croaked from the other side.
Someone banged on the door.
“Daria first,” I gasped. Markos lifted his sister into Fee’s waiting hands. Her stocking feet disappeared through the window.
“Come on.” He beckoned Kenté over. Stowing her dagger, she allowed him to boost her up. “Caro, you next.”
“No, you.” I glanced over my shoulder. The pirates were hacking at the door from the other side. “You’re the Emparch.”
The door buckled. I heard the Black Dogs cursing, followed by a gunshot. The shouting stopped.
“Markos, come on!”
He exhaled, tension releasing from his shoulders, as if all the fight had left him. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “No.”
I realized what he meant to do.
“But you’re the heir to Akhaia.” I refused to let him sacrifice himself. “You’re more important than your sister.”
His eyes flashed with intense emotion. “You still don’t understand. Nothing is more important.”
“We can all go,” I insisted. “If we go now. Fee and I will pull you up.”
“If I stall them, the rest of you will have a chance.” His trembling hands hovered over the hilts of his swords. “Get to the boat. Take her to Valonikos. To the house we spoke of.”
“Markos—”
“The name. Quickly, tell me the name again.”
“Tychon Hypatos.” My lips were half-numb. “Iphis Street. But—”
“You made a promise,” he said.
“This isn’t what I meant!”
“You think they’ll ever stop searching for me?” He looked fierce. “You have no hope of making it to Valonikos, Caro. None. Not if I’m with you.” I reached for his sleeve, but he flinched away. “I’m the one they want. Those two people on the wherry already died for me. I suppose you thought I didn’t regret it, but I do. I can’t imagine if—”
“Markos—”
“Stop. Arguing. For once in your life, stop.” His voice shook, and I knew he was afraid.
Time slid to a halt as we looked at each other. A million thoughts reeled through my mind. One of them had to be the right one. The one that would stop him from doing this.
“Oh, hell.” He strode toward me as the door groaned on its hinges. “I’m going to die anyway.”
He hauled my face close. I twisted my fingers into his hair and slammed his mouth down on mine.
It was a kiss that raged like battle, exhilarating and immediate. His lips tasted of salt. My racing heartbeat throbbed in my ears. I wanted more of him. I grabbed the front of his shirt in my fist, to pull him closer—pull him with me.
He broke the kiss and staggered back. I felt the absence of him on my lips, a coldness that threatened to burrow deep inside me.
“Wait.” I found my voice. “Markos, wait—”
The door burst into splinters. He drew his two swords. “Go! Get out of here.”
Hoisting myself onto the window ledge, I could not help looking back.
“Don’t,” he said without turning. And then they came rushing at him with swords and fists.
I didn’t want to see.
With a ragged breath, I turned away and let Fee pull me through the window. Tears blurred my eyes. You don’t leave behind a member of your crew. Any sailor knows that. You just don’t.
I straightened, stashing my pistols. The others stood in the cobblestoned alley, watching me expectantly. The blue of early evening was upon us.
“Where’s my brother?” Daria’s voice was shrill.
I grabbed her hand. “Your brother,” I growled over the ache in my throat, dragging her down the alley, “once told me he would do anything to save you.”
“Where are you going?” She tried to pull away. “We have to wait for Markos,” she screamed. “Let go!”
“He’s not coming.” I rubbed my eyes with my sleeve. “Hush! Markos said if I tell you to run, you run. Well, I’m telling you now.”
We raced under the shadows of the eaves, ducking around puddles of refuse and piles of rank fish bones. Bumping into a lamplighter carrying a long pole, I stumbled. He cursed after me, but I could not stop. Above us lights winked on in the hillside houses. Somewhere people were sitting down to supper, while I struggled to breathe around the pain in my chest.
Markos was an excellent swordsman. Perhaps …
I shoved the thought away. The Black Dogs had outnumbered him. There were too many of them. I knew it. Markos had known it.
The alley ended. I glanced frantically left and right.
“Which way?” gasped Kenté.
A group of seagulls scattered into the air, squawking. Their cries drew my eyes to the right, where I caught sight of the masts far below us.
“There!”
We clattered down a stone staircase set into the hill. Glimpsing the harbor, I almost wept in relief. I heard no commotion behind us. No gunshots. As we raced down the dock, Daria tripped, but I pulled her up. Her pale face was stained with tears. Markos may have given us just enough time.
I halted.
Five men stood on the dock between us and Cormorant. Three of them held blades and one had dual pistols stuck in his belt. The fifth was the pirate Philemon. Alektor had arrived.
We were cut off.
A week ago, if you asked me, “Would you die for Cormorant?” I might have said yes. It was what happened in all the stories. A captain went down with her ship. But now I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t think about it for a second.
Markos had traded his life for ours. I knew what my sacrifice had to be.
I turned my back on Cormorant.
“Leave her,” I said.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
There is a reckless freedom in leaving behind everything you know. As I ran down the dock, tugging Daria behind me, it thrilled in my veins.
Markos was gone. Cormorant was gone. But I was alive. I was an Oresteia and I was bold. My brain sharpened and my blood surged.
I knew what to do.
A cutter does not carry a large crew. Only one man was left to stand guard near Victorianos. He sat on a dock post, boots dangling. His musket leaned against a stack of barrels, too far away to be of any use to him.
He didn’t even see us coming.
Yanking out my knife, I flung it at the guard. I heard a wet thunk and a grunt, but I was already running up the gangplank.
“Kenté, pull it in!” I panted. Wood scraped on wood as she obeyed me.
The cutter had an open deck with two hatches leading below. She was steered by a tiller, much bigger than Cormorant’s. “Get back there,” I ordered Daria, pointing. “Don’t touch anything.”
I couldn’t think about Markos. Or the man I might have killed. Or Cormorant.
To anyone who grows up around boats, it is sacrilege to cut good rope, but I didn’t hesitate. I ran along the port rail of the cutter, slashing the mooring warps. Victorianos drifted out of her berth.
I began to desperately heave up the mainsail. It weighed too much, but just when I thought I might burst into frustrated tears from the effort, I felt Fee beside me. The gaff climbed to the peak. Hands shaking, I looped the halyard around the wooden cleat.
“Foresail?” Kenté gasped, out of breath.
“Do it,” I said.
The Black Dogs had seen the cutter’s sails go up. They started to run, sho
ving wherrymen and dock workers out of their way. I took a flying leap off the hatch cover and into the stern. We had only moments before they drew their muskets.
The little girl stood where I had deposited her, next to the tiller. “Move,” I said brusquely, regretting my tone.
She scuttled away, just in time for me to grab the tiller and slam it hard over to one side, right where she’d been standing seconds before. The cutter, still pointed into the wind, floated backward. Gritting my teeth, I leaned on the tiller. I pumped it toward me and slammed it over once more.
One of the Black Dogs raced down the dock. Kenté had pulled in the gangplank, but he geared himself up to jump. We hadn’t drifted far enough. He might make it.
Fee stretched her lips in a ferocious grin, hopping onto the rail. She balanced there, knife in hand.
The man’s arms and legs churned, and his body lifted into the air. In that moment, Fee looked over her shoulder at me.
I let go of the tiller. “No, don’t—!”
She leaped.
They collided in midair and, tangled together, they fell. There was a splash, and the white churning of water. Then I saw nothing but the gentle waves.
“Fee!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “Fee!”
But neither she nor the pirate resurfaced.
Slowly, slowly, Victorianos began to turn. High up, the edge of her sail flapped. Kenté climbed onto the hatch cover and leaned on the boom, pushing it over on the starboard side. I pumped the tiller again, and this time the sail shuddered. The wind caught it and with a nice slapping noise, it filled. I felt the pull on the tiller as the ship picked up speed. The canvas tightened.
I glanced wildly behind me. “We have to wait for Fee.”
“Caro, she’s gone.” I hated the sympathy in Kenté’s voice.
Bubbles popped up behind our rudder, growing into a rolling wake. Kenté made the mainsheet fast. The Bollards might not be a wherrying family, but they knew something about boats.
We were off and on our way, beating up the Neck. Behind us shots reverberated across the water, though we were well out of range. “Duck your head,” I told Daria just in case. “Better yet, lie all the way down on the floor.”
She dropped like a rock, obeying immediately. She listened better than Markos, I had to give her that.
Markos. There was a gaping black space where he used to be. I wanted to scream in frustration, to fall to pieces, but I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to live.
I was afraid to even think about Fee. It was too new. Too fresh. Stinging tears crowded my eyes. Pa, Cormorant, and Fee—that was the patchwork that made up my life. One missing piece I could handle. Now everything was full of holes, the shreds flying tattered on the wind.
Which had picked up.
Far astern, Alektor moved away from the dock. But this time I didn’t need strange fogs. I knew she couldn’t catch us, for Victorianos simply flew. She crashed through the water, her bow throwing up white spray. This was the kind of sailing she was built for.
Kenté squinted astern. “I don’t think they’re gaining.”
“I’m not going to crowd on sail,” I said. “Not unless I have to. This ship is a lot more than what I’m used to.”
“Cleandros shouldn’t have been able to disappear like that. Not moments after sundown.” Kenté shook her head. “He should have been too weak, like I was. Did you see that thing around his neck?”
“You mean the locket?”
“It must be some kind of—of shadow box or something. He disappeared the moment he opened it. That’s so clever.” She rocked forward, dropping her forehead into her hands. “And I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I ever think to do that? There’s dark inside the box even if it’s light outside.”
“You’re being stupid now,” I said. “How were you to know? It’s like me telling Daria to go aloft and reef that sail and expecting her to know how. He was an Emparch’s own royal shadowman.”
“I was a fool to think I could help you.” She picked at a fingernail. “Fee and Markos fought them. Died fighting them.” A tear rolled down her cheek, blending with the spray. “I did nothing.”
I had other things to worry about. Rain began to spatter down on the deck, the drops big and angry. It was going to storm.
“We’re in for a blow. Take Daria into the cabin. I don’t want her catching cold.”
“I want to stay here!” Daria was wide-eyed, hair plastered to her forehead like so many wet snakes. Markos had hated when Cormorant sailed with any kind of tilt, but his sister seemed exhilarated by how the cutter pitched over on her side, battling the waves. “I’m not going to catch cold.”
In the excitement of our escape, she had ceased crying. I suspected her brother’s death hadn’t truly sunk in yet.
“Go through those lockers,” I told Kenté. “We’ll be needing oilskins. Cold weather gear.”
“You might take a reef,” Kenté suggested, squinting up at the sail. A wave broke across our bow, sending bucketfuls of ocean sluicing along the deck toward us. I paid it no mind. My boots were already soaked through.
“Not yet.” I was afraid to stop.
“Is this the way to Iantiporos?” Daria scrambled to her feet, scrutinizing the misty cliffs. “Mother’s in Iantiporos.”
Horrified, I raised my eyes to meet Kenté’s. “I can’t,” I mouthed. It was too much. I was barely holding myself together.
Kenté unfolded her legs, holding out a hand to Daria. “Let’s go down below and explore, shall we? We can pick out a bunk.”
I was glad the wind and waves were loud. If she cried when Kenté told her, I did not hear it.
Truth be told, I was relieved Daria was belowdecks and out of my sight. I couldn’t imagine finding out you were the only surviving member of your whole family. She’d want someone to hug her and make hot chocolate and tell her it was going to be all right.
Well, I couldn’t do that. Not when she was the reason Markos and Fee were dead. Perhaps it was selfish, but I’d lost everything for her and she didn’t even know it. A stinging bolt of pain went through my chest. It would never be all right again.
Oh, Markos.
The Emparchy of Akhaia was inherited through the male line. As a cousin, Konto Theucinian’s claim to the throne hadn’t been legitimate before, but it was now. What Markos had done, exchanging his own life for his sister’s, was so infuriatingly noble and stupid.
My throat ached, but it felt more like sickness than grief, like I should be in bed with my neck wrapped in a flannel and smeared with liniment. I wanted to cough and faint and throw up all at once.
The weather didn’t help any. Victorianos plowed through the whitecaps, heeling far over to starboard. Sailing Victorianos was not like sailing Cormorant. She fought me for control, as I wrestled with the tiller, trying to keep us on course. I almost imagined she was being fussy because she couldn’t believe someone as small and insignificant as me had been bold enough to steal her.
“All right, Vix,” I said out loud, because “Victorianos” was a mouthful. It seemed much too formal for an outlaw ship like this. “You aren’t going to get the better of me. You got to get used to that fact right now. I’m taking you down the Neck and out to sea. And you can’t stop me.”
The clouds broke apart, displaying faint stars, as if the sky winked at me. In that moment, I swear I felt the sea grow calmer and the wind slacken. But it was just wishful thinking.
The next two hours proved it. A bank of dark clouds rolled in and the wind kicked up. Rain battered the deck, as my hand grew numb on the tiller. The oilskins from the cutter’s lockers were meant to fit grown men, so they were far too big for me. Water ran down the gaping collar and into my sleeves, plastering my clothes to my upper body.
Eventually we passed the lighthouse at the end of the Neck. We were in the open ocean. I came about for the last time and slackened the sails. At this angle, I didn’t have to fight the wind and the water so much. Finally the slant of the deck lessened,
and I felt like Vix wasn’t straining against me anymore.
To look upon the sea and try to understand it is to try to know the unknowable. It can’t be done. Gazing out into the sea’s vastness, I felt a hole at the bottom of my heart. And yet I thought the sea understood that. It knew emptiness. It knew despair. It echoed mine, throwing it back at me with the splash of the waves. Everything was rolling and lashing and gray, gray, gray.
I felt gray. I was shivering and soaked. Fee was dead and Cormorant was gone. I wished Pa was here, but I’d messed that up too—the Margravina’s soldiers would lock him up in darkness and squalor on a prison ship, and it was all my fault. Why hadn’t I told Ma the truth? Why had I been so foolish to think I could do this alone? The salt spray on my cheeks blended with my tears, erasing them like they were never there.
I’d been given one simple task—deliver the stupid crate to Valonikos. Now the true Emparch of Akhaia was dead, and I was tangled up in it. They should’ve sent someone the gods actually cared about. Any wherryman would have been better than me.
I screamed into the night. The sea swallowed my scream, taking my rage and grief into itself. I screamed so hard, my voice cracked and my eyes felt like they might explode.
Then I heard it—a rumble from the depths.
We weren’t alone. Something was out there.
An enormous head burst through the roiling waves, sending gallons of spray flying. It was tufted with what looked like wet feathers, and clumps of barnacles clung to its long, scaled neck. With it wafted a strong, snaky smell.
So great was my shock, I let go of the tiller.
It was a drakon. At least, I thought it was. I’d never even seen a picture of one, for the people who write the natural history books say they are only legends. But it couldn’t possibly be anything else.
Vix’s sails clapped and groaned in warning. I quickly corrected our course, pulse racing.
The drakon opened its giant mouth and roared at me, its head streaming water and its teeth like swords. I was mesmerized by the purple sheen on its scales. It shook its spiny mane, foam and droplets flying everywhere. There was something wild and beautiful about it.
Suddenly I didn’t care if I made it mad. I didn’t care if it ate me, if it wrapped its great tail around us and dragged us to the bottom of the sea like the ship Nikanor.
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