“Isn’t it dangerous to wear that?” Auster looked at the ring on Leo’s middle finger. It was a merchant’s ring, set with carnelian. I looked around the shop again, confused. If he was a sailmaker, why was he running a tailor shop?
“Worried about me? I’m touched.” Leo spread his fingers before him, eyeing the stone, and when I looked closer, I saw the seal of Bastian imprinted into the silver. So, he was a sailmaker, but he hadn’t been given a merchant’s ring by the guild in Ceros.
“We need a set of sails,” Auster said simply.
Leo’s mustache twitched. “I’m not supposed to make sails. You know that.”
“That doesn’t mean you won’t.”
His eyes squinted. “Why not go to one of the sail lofts on the other side of the city?”
Paj refilled his glass. “We did. They won’t do it.”
“So, you’ve found a bit of trouble.” Leo chuckled to himself.
“What do you care? Will you do it or not?”
“That depends on how much coin you’ll give me to make risking my neck worth it.”
“Eight hundred coppers,” I said flatly.
Willa looked at me with a stern reproach.
But we were beyond negotiation. We were desperate, and there was no point in acting like we weren’t. “We don’t have time to barter. We need sails and we need them now.”
Leo looked over us, thinking. “What kind of ship?”
“A double-mast lorcha,” Auster answered. “It should take you no time.“
“This wouldn’t be the lorcha that had its sails slashed two days ago, would it?” A twinkle lit in Leo’s eye.
Willa glared at him. “How fast can you have them done?”
I watched him think. If he was caught making sails without a merchant’s ring from the Ceros Sailmakers Guild, he was as good as dead. And he wasn’t hurting for coin if he worked in North Fyg. If he did it, it was because he wanted to. Not because he needed anything from us.
“Two days.” He smiled, the pipe clenched in his white teeth.
“And how are you going to make them in two days?” Paj cocked his head to one side. The light coming through the window shadowed his face, painting his skin ink-black.
Leo shrugged. “I have people.”
“Well, they better know how to keep their mouths shut.” I untied both leather purses from my hips and tossed them to him. “There’s two hundred. You’ll get another two when the sails are finished, and the last four when they’re strung up.”
“Deal.”
Willa took a step closer to him. “You don’t deliver, and I don’t need to tell you what we’ll do to you.”
His smile faltered a little. “I said I’d do it.”
Paj stood, setting down his empty glass. “I think we can call it even, then.”
Leo nodded, opening the door. “It’s about time.”
We filed back out into the street, the weight of the coin now missing from my belt, and Paj and Willa walked ahead of us as Auster and I followed.
“What did Paj do for him?” I asked, speaking low so only Auster could hear me.
He checked to see if Paj was listening before he answered, “Paj crewed a ship out of Bastian before we came to the Narrows. Their trade route ended in Ceros, and he smuggled Leo into the cargo when he needed to disappear.”
“Disappear from Bastian?”
He nodded.
“So, he was a sailmaker in Bastian.”
“Not just any sailmaker. He was Holland’s sailmaker.”
I stopped midstride, gaping at him. Holland was the same trader Willa said had it out for Zola. The same trader whose coin controlled the gem trade.
“He fell out of her good graces. It was leave Bastian without a trace, or meet whatever end Holland had planned for him,” Auster said. “He paid Paj sixty coppers to get him on the ship to Ceros. It was more money than we’d ever seen, so he did it. But no trader or merchant would touch him when he came to the Narrows, so he set up shop as a tailor.”
That’s what Auster meant when he said that Leo wasn’t supposed to exist. He’d found a desperate kid to hide him in the belly of a cargo ship and ran. As far as anyone in Ceros knew, he was just a tailor.
“So, you’ve been with Paj a long time,” I said, looking ahead.
He knew my meaning. I wasn’t just asking how long they’d known each other. I was asking how long they’d loved each other.
A crooked smile twisted on his lips, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before he nodded. But then his hand absently went to the sleeve of his shirt, tugging it down over the tattoo on his arm and a shadow passed over his face.
Two intertwined snakes coiled together, each eating the other’s tail. It was the kind of mark that had meaning, and the symbol was one of infinity. Forever. But as far as I knew, Paj didn’t have one.
“The crew knows about you two?”
“They’re the only ones.”
And now I knew too. “That’s a long time to keep a secret.”
He shrugged. “You know how it is. It’s dangerous for people to know.”
The thought made me happy before it made me sad—the idea that you could find love in this world the way Saint and Isolde had. Even if you had to keep it hidden to protect the one you loved. When I was alone on Jeval, I’d thought many times that love was no more than folklore. And that my mother had only been able to give it flesh and bone because she wasn’t like the rest of us. She was mythic. Otherworldly. Isolde seemed connected to the sea in a way that no one else was, as if she belonged beneath the surface of it instead of up here, with us.
But in the next breath, I thought of West.
I hadn’t spoken to him since I shook his hand, agreeing to his conditions for taking me on. I’d dredge for the Marigold, but I was to keep my distance.
West said that Saint taught him everything he knew. That’s why he was dealing in debts and running side trade. Pocketing from the ledgers and dumping men in crates into the sea. There was a certain amount of darkness it took to live this life. Saint had always told me that, but I didn’t really learn it until Jeval. I’d done plenty of wicked things to survive on the island, but I couldn’t find it in me to feel badly about any of them. It was the way of things. Maybe that made me more like my father than I wanted to admit.
And though West had said again and again that he didn’t do favors and that he didn’t take chances, he’d done both. Over and over.
For me.
THIRTY-THREE
Two days felt like twenty.
We kept our heads down in the city, drinking too much rye and sleeping late to avoid notice as Leo worked around the clock to finish the sails for the Marigold. But I could feel Zola’s eyes on us at the docks. He wasn’t stupid, and we weren’t rid of the Luna’s crew yet. They turned up at every tavern we drank at, their footsteps following ours on the bridges and in the alleyways.
He was waiting for our next move.
But no one could guess what was coming. In another two days, the Marigold would be anchored in Tempest Snare, and we’d be bringing in the haul that would buy us out of West’s debt to Saint. The crew would be free to scrape the crest off the floor of the helmsman’s quarters, and for the first time, the Marigold would be beholden to no one.
West holed up in his quarters, refusing to leave the ship while he healed, the injuries that Zola’s crew had left him with still covering almost every inch of him. The bruises had begun to yellow, the skin puckering along the stitches, but it would be weeks before he fully regained his strength.
Leo sat high on the mast, the striped silk scarf that was tied around his neck fluttering in the wind. Willa was perched beside him, holding the rolled sail in her arms. Since the moment the sun went down and the fog rolled in, they’d been working, Leo’s hands moving so fast at the riggings that it was difficult to even see what he was doing. When we told him he would have to fit the sails in the pitch-dark to keep from being seen, he looked excited by the added
challenge. By the time the sun rose, we’d be out of the harbor and on our way to Tempest Snare.
The others were already waiting when I came into the helmsman’s quarters, the map Saint had given me clutched in my hands. West stood at the head of the desk and I didn’t miss the way he avoided meeting my eyes.
“Almost finished,” I said, closing the door behind me.
West looked to Hamish. “What else?”
He pushed the spectacles up his nose with the tip of his finger as he answered, “I’ve called in all our debts. It took one or two broken noses, but we’re paid up, and it should be enough to cover us until we can trade in Dern.”
“And the cargo?”
“Auster and I have offloaded everything we don’t need. We had to sell it at a loss, but by the time we meet back up with our merchants, we’ll be able to pay them. They never have to know what we lost in the storm or what we dumped here in Ceros.”
It had taken us an entire day to get everything out of the hull. The Marigold would have to ride lighter than ever before if we were going to get through Tempest Snare without sinking.
“Now, we just need to chart the course,” Paj said, eyeing the map in my hands.
I hesitated, for just a moment, feeling the weight of it baring down on top of me. The Lark was the only thing I had in the world. By giving it to West, I was putting my life in his hands. The thought made my stomach roil, the beat of my heart quickening.
Paj reached out, and I set the map into his hand before he unrolled it on top of the others scattered over the desk. “All right. Take us through it.”
I touched the scripted letters that ran along the edge and followed the line of the shore, remembering the feel of the parchment under my fingertips. They moved up and away from the coast and past Jeval, stopping on the thin slices of land encircling one another in the middle of the sea.
“Tempest Snare.” West leaned on the table across from me, his voice low.
Paj ran his hands over his face, sighing. “That’s where this haul is hiding? Tempest Snare?”
I nodded.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hamish muttered. “What’s down there?”
“Gems. Metals. Coin. Everything,” I answered.
“A shipwreck.” West stared at the map.
“And how are we supposed to get to it?” Auster looked at me. “There’s a reason no one goes into the Snare. It’s a death trap.”
“Unless you know how to navigate it,” I said.
West looked up, then, both hands planted on the desk before him. “You know the way through Tempest Snare?”
I didn’t take my eyes from his as I unclasped my jacket and let it fall from my shoulders. It dropped to the floor, and I rolled up the sleeve of my shirt. The gnarled, puffed scar looked up at us, dark red in the lantern light. I set my arm on the table, lining it up over the map.
Paj pressed his fist to his mouth. “Are you telling me…?”
Hamish shook his head, unbelieving.
I pointed to the farthest right point of the scar beneath my wrist. “It’s here.”
“What is? You still haven’t told us what’s down there,” Auster said.
I swallowed hard. “The Lark.”
All at once, they collectively stepped back from the table, a hush falling over the cabin.
I put one finger on the center of the reefs and put the other in the sea above Jeval, repeating the words just as I’d heard Clove say them after the storm. “The storm that hit the Lark came from the north.” I pulled my finger down toward the reefs. “It pushed her into the reef, but then it turned.” I moved my finger that was on the reef back into the sea. “Then it shifted west. It dragged the ship here, before it sank. She’s there.” I stared at the small atoll sitting in the maze of reefs.
Hamish looked up at West over the lenses of his spectacles. “If we do this, that’s it. Our ties with Saint will be cut for good.”
“He could come after us.” Paj looked worried.
“He won’t.” I paused. “The Lark belongs to me.”
“Belongs to you? How?”
“He gave it to me.”
“He gave it to you,” Auster repeated.
“It’s my inheritance.”
They all stared at me. Everyone but West.
“It’s only forty or fifty feet down.”
West was quiet, his eyes still running over the map.
“I can get us through,” I said. “I know I can.”
“All right,” West finally said, and the others looked relieved, a nervous smile on each of their faces. “We’ll dredge the Lark and sell what we can in Dern to fill our hull with coin. Then we come back to Ceros and give it to Saint to pay for the Marigold.”
“If the sea demons don’t get us first,” Auster whispered, his smile spreading wider.
They’d crewed the ship for more than two years, but it had never been theirs. It never would be, if Saint had anything to say about it. He’d brought West on under the debt because he knew he’d never be able to pay it. He had no reason to think that he’d ever actually lose his shadow ship.
“We better get out of here before this whole damn city starts wondering what we’re up to.” Paj went for the door and Auster followed him.
“One-third,” West said, still looking at the map as the door closed.
“All right. One-third to the Marigold’s ledgers and the rest—”
“No,” he cut Hamish off, “she’ll take one-third.”
Hamish nodded.
“But why?” I asked. Taking one-third of the haul for myself meant after coin for the ledgers, only one-third would be left for the crew to split. It wasn’t fair.
“When we made the deal, you didn’t tell me it was your inheritance,” he said.
“You didn’t ask. It’s mine and I can use it however I want.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Hamish said.
“Yes, I do.”
West let out a long breath. “You may never get another chance like this again, Fable.”
“I know. That’s why I’m not going to waste it.” I hoped he could hear what I wasn’t saying. That even though I’d said I didn’t owe him, I did. And I wanted to pay him back tenfold. “Two-thirds to the Marigold’s ledgers, and we’ll split the rest between us. Evenly.” I rolled up the map and tucked it back into my jacket.
West’s eyes moved back and forth on mine, his jaw ticking like he was working up the courage to say something. But just as he opened his mouth, footsteps pounded on the deck, coming into the breezeway.
“West!” Willa appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide. “We’ve got trouble.”
THIRTY-FOUR
The six of us stood at the railing side by side, the only sound the ring of grommets sliding onto rope above us.
In the distance, torches bobbed beneath the iron archway that led into the harbor below Ceros. The fog had thinned in the cool wind, uncovering the Marigold from her hiding place.
“Well.” Willa sighed. “That’s not good.”
I looked up to the foremast, where Leo was finishing the last of the new sails and he froze when his eyes landed on the harbor. Zola’s crew was coming to finish what he started.
“What is it?” Leo called out.
The torches were almost to the docks, and I could just barely make out the throng of men carrying them. The weight of a stone pulled at the center of my stomach as I realized what they were going to do.
They were going to set fire to the Marigold.
“Make ready!” West shouted, his voice echoing as he ran to the starboard side where Auster was already unlocking the crank for the anchor.
“If you’re not off this ship before we shove off, you’re going with us!” I yelled, and Leo’s eyes widened. He pulled a tool from the back of his belt and went back to work, fastening the corner of the last sail with shaking hands.
The sharp click of the crank rang out as Auster and West raised the anchor, and I went for the lin
es, untying them with one eye on the harbor. Zola had thought the sails would finish West, but they hadn’t. Now, there was only one thing to do if he wanted to put an end to the Marigold and its crew—he’d have to sink it.
Leo slid down the foremast, landing too hard. His legs buckled and he fell to the deck, groaning, before he got back up with his arm pinned to this side.
“Are they ready?” I looked up to where the clean, white canvas was neatly folded, the grommets gleaming.
“As ready as they’ll ever be!” He limped toward the railing.
“Hey!”
He turned back, his bag of tools slung over his shoulder.
“You want your coin or not?”
He cursed, running back, and I picked up the sack at the top of the steps. He took it from me before he ran back to the ladder and disappeared over the side.
Willa untied the sails on the foremast, and the wind picked up, blowing in from the south. We’d need it if we were going to get out of the harbor before those torches hit our deck.
Once the lines were free, I jumped out from the mast with the ropes wrapped around my fists. They slid open in one smooth motion, and I landed on both feet, looking up to their crisp, angled shapes against the black sky. They were beautiful, with lacquered wooden rod boning that fanned out from the bottom corner like two wings, ready to take flight.
Hamish took the ropes from me, and I swung myself over the side, making my way down the ladder to the dock. With the sails open and the anchor up, the Marigold was already drifting. I released the heaving lines from the first post, and they slapped against the hull as Paj wound them up.
Shouting sounded behind me, and I worked at the second one, but the rope was wedged too tightly in the knot. I fit my fingers into the loop and sank back, yanking with all of my weight and screaming, “Come on!”
The rope slipped, and I fell flat on my back, hitting the ground so hard that the impact made my lungs curl like fists. Zola’s crew was already on our bay, running straight for me. I scrambled back to the post, unwinding the lines, and Paj pulled them up, but the ship was already too far. I couldn’t reach the ladder.
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