The Sin in the Steel

by Ryan Van Loan

  “Sweet Gods, you mean the Sea Dragon is a man o’ war?”

  “Not quite,” Eld said, shrugging. “Turns out there was only one of those in port and the captain was adamant it needed its hull scraped before venturing out to sea again. She said the only thing that would make her drop sails would be the Harbormaster.”

  “I would have liked to have seen that,” I said, laughing.

  “Aye,” Eld grunted, his face a shade darker than it had been a moment before. He cleared his throat. “So then I did threaten—threaten, mind you—to stab someone. And that led to a brig that was sailing south in the hour.”

  “A Company ship?”

  “It didn’t look like there was much else in the harbor, honestly. I thought of trying for a newly minted frigate that was putting in while I argued with the rest of the captains, but I figured it would need to take on water and that would be a delay.”

  “Hmm, I wouldn’t have thought of that,” I mused. “So where are we now?”

  “A day’s sail from the route where all the ships have disappeared,” Eld said. His eyes narrowed. “And the crew is on edge, so tread carefully when you feel up to leaving your bed.”

  “You told them our mission?”

  “Easy,” he said, holding up a hand to ward off my expression. “No, I’m not a fool. The crew knows nothing.… The same can’t be said for the captain, unfortunately.” Eld lifted his other hand as if both would do what one did not. I tightened my glare. “Well, I had to tell him, Buc. He controls the ship.”

  “Fair enough,” I said finally. I stifled a yawn and tried not to let the pain of the movement show. “The physiker said I was supposed to eat a lot, but I don’t know if I feel up to climbing decks.”

  “It’s only two to the top,” Eld said.

  “Aye, but my bones feel even older than yours. A century at least.”

  “Then I’ll bring the food to you,” Eld said. He pushed himself to his feet and half reached for my arm before stopping. “It’s the least I can do, Buc.” I opened my mouth and this time he touched my arm and I held my tongue. “You’re no use to anyone if you make yourself weaker. You have a day to eat and drink enough to get into fighting shape.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” I said, adding a thick brogue to my words.

  “That’s more like it,” he said, and laughed. He squeezed my arm and moved past me, then paused at the door. “You know, I’m not that old.”

  “Well, how old are you?”

  “I turned nineteen at the start of this summer,” he said.

  “Gods, that’s ancient,” I said with a gasp. “Nearly as old as Salina!” He sputtered and protested and I laughed, to ease him off the hook. It really wasn’t that many years more than me. And I believed what I told him. Age was a meaningless number; it was what you did with the years that meant something.

  “Hurry your wrinkly old arse up top then—I’m starving.” He shook his head and left, muttering under his breath. When the door closed, I let the smile I’d been holding go. Poke him and he’s quick to correct. It was useful knowledge if I was going to find out how his past involved mages and armies. He was my friend, my only friend, but I think “friend” means something different to me than it does to Eld. I’ve told him many times I’m not like other people; I’m the oddity, that to my eyes it’s everyone else who’s strange. That’s the problem with being normal; it means you don’t listen.

  Especially to a girl of ten and seven.

  16

  “You did good.”

  Eld’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  “Aye.” I tapped the railing and looked across the deck, where a dozen hands were busy scrubbing various bits of nautical equipment. I’d come up the night before and spent the morning on deck, and it seemed like all they did was clean. If they fought half so good, then the Widowmaker was in trouble. “A man o’ war might have kept the Widowmaker away, but this ship is small enough to make a tempting target.”

  Eld followed my gaze and swallowed. “I hadn’t considered that.”

  “‘Better a lucky happenstance than a planned folly,’” I quoted.

  “Gillibrand?”

  “No, she wrote better stuff than that. Ballwik’s Proverbs. Number three.” I closed my eyes and the pages appeared before me. “Simple, but a good primer for a new reader.”

  “You’re looking in fine mettle this morning, signorina,” the captain said, pausing in his inspection of the ship. I’d seen his first mate doing a round last night and this morning, but this was the first I’d seen of the captain, save for at the mess this morning, where Eld had pointed him out. He was tall and impossibly thin, with narrow shoulders that made him look like a larger man’s shadow. His powder-blue jacket and slim trousers only added to the illusion. He touched the brim of his bicorn. “Very fine, indeed.”

  “I look like someone starved me for a fortnight before beating me within an inch of my life,” I said. I’d finally seen myself this morning when I used a mirror to make sure my knives were sufficiently concealed. I can’t put on weight no matter how hard I try, only in my arse, and that seems to be because it’s stealing from my breasts. But even my arse had lost its usual curves, and for the first time since Eld found me I could count all of my ribs again. “But you’re polite to say so, and a more than capable liar,” I added when the captain flinched.

  “She means the last as a compliment,” Eld added, translating.

  “Aye, well.” The captain licked his lips and touched the tip of his pick of a nose. “Thank you kindly, signorina. Kindly,” he repeated.

  “While you’re here, Captain, perhaps you can answer a question for me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Sea dragons. They make their home in the north?”

  “So the north men would have you believe. Massive golden beasts with wings that turn the seas into a maelstrom and scare away their slender serpent cousins,” he said. His mouth twisted. “There’s an old tale they tell of one that came on land and took a queen as its bride. The line of Quando claims they are descended from their offspring.”

  “You don’t believe them?”

  “Anatomically, I don’t see how it’s possible.”

  “Not the tale, the creatures in general.”

  “I’ve never seen one,” he said simply.

  “A wise man that trusts his eyes over others’ lips,” I said.

  “Th-thank you,” he said slowly as if unsure if I was toying with him. “Signorina,” he added.

  Still polite. No wonder he and Eld got on so well. “Is the pirate, the Widowmaker, real?”

  “I haven’t seen her,” he said. He touched his nose again. “But enough others have and more than a few who were robbed by her.”

  “So she’s real?”

  “I believe so, signorina.”

  “Good.” I patted the railing. “I aim to kill the bitch and get the fuck out of this place as soon as she turns up.”

  The captain laughed. When he saw I wasn’t laughing, he touched his hat and resumed his circuit of the ship.

  I pushed myself off the railing and cut across the deck so I’d reach the helm before the captain did.

  “Where are we going?” Eld asked.

  “I’m not a great hand with navigation, by which I mean I’ve never tried to navigate a ship before, but by the position of the sun, I’m fairly certain the captain has us a few points north of where we should be.”

  “Why didn’t you ask him?”

  “I wanted to see if he’d bring it up.” I shook my head and spat as we reached the stairs that led to the wheel. One of the sailors started to curse, saw my look, and bit off the rest as she bent to wipe the deck. “I hope he’s not so nervous when the Widowmaker shows up.”

  “Sometimes nerves are a good thing,” Eld said, half jogging to keep pace with me.

  “I’ve never found that to be true,” I said.

  “That’s because you’re unique.”

  “Always polite,” I muttered. El
d tried to catch my hand, but I slipped his grasp and reached the helmsman a step before him. Helmswoman. She glanced over her freckled shoulder, saw me, and turned back to the wheel. Her hair was tied back in a torn piece of dark cloth, and the rest of her outfit was almost as threadbare as the other sailors’. Given her position above the main deck, with the sun behind her, there was little left to the imagination. Still, it did look comfortable.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Eld whispered in my ear.

  We’d had more than one argument about trousers. Dresses, even ones divided for riding, were more of a pain than they were worth. I’d take a man’s eyes on what I was actually doing instead of tripping in silks any day. Really? Dresses? I shook myself and tried not to feel disgust.

  “You!” My tone was harsher than I’d intended, but there was no taking it back, so I plowed on. “This wheel is two points too far to the north. You’ll correct that, now.”

  The woman’s freckles danced across her face. “I take orders from the officers,” she sneered, “not flotsam like yourself.”

  “I’m sure the Company will be sorry to hear your loyalties are misplaced,” I said. “It’d be a shame if someone made sure they understood those loyalties caused our mission to fail. Might be you would be misplaced as well. No?” I glanced at Eld and shrugged. “I guess she knows the Company better than us.”

  “She must. Salina surely gave us another impression.”

  “Speak plain,” the woman growled.

  “Adjust course or I’ll pin your hands to the wheel and adjust the course for you,” I said. A stiletto appeared in my fist and I spun it effortlessly, letting the sun reflect off the stainless blade. I always like to keep one stiletto bright for times like this. The spinning blade was a parlor trick, but an effective one. “And then I’ll report your arse to the Company. If our mission succeeds, you’ll likely be looking for another berth, but if we fail, then I don’t think you’ll have to worry about another berth.”

  “You’ll be dead,” Eld said.

  “I think she understood that time,” I said.

  “I did,” she said. “I’ve not held the helm long enough to go to another ship so soon.” She sighed. “Two points south?” I nodded. “The captain will feel the motion and come running.”

  “Good, I want him to.” The woman spun the wheel and while I didn’t feel anything, I heard a startled shout and saw the lanky man appear around the corner. “That was fast.”

  “Ulia, who told you to change course?”

  “I did,” I said.

  “S-signorina?” he stammered, and then turned to Eld. “I give the orders on this ship.”

  “Aye?” Eld looked him up and down. “Then tell her that.”

  “I give the orders on this ship, signorina,” he said, turning back to me.

  “You carry out the orders the Company gives you,” I corrected him. “And you haven’t done that, have you? We’re hours from the route we should be on and you know it. Why?”

  “I—I—”

  “You do believe in the Widowmaker, don’t you? And you know a few hours south is where ships disappear.” He nodded. “Good—that’s where we’re going.” I stopped the stiletto in my fist with the blade pointed at him. “I’m-a kill a bitch and be done with this song and dance.” The captain’s mouth opened but nothing came out. “Oh, your ship doesn’t turn my stomach like those damned Cannon Ships do, but I’ve had enough of the Shattered Coast to last me a few years,” I added.

  “As you say, signorina.” He touched his hat and moved on.

  “I don’t think he took that the right way,” I said. Eld and Ulia both stared at me.

  “There was a right way?”

  I rolled my eyes at Eld. “Aye, my way.” I gestured at the captain’s back. “I hope his nerves turn out to be the right sort when the Widowmaker shows up.”

  17

  “I’ve made the connection,” Katal said. He arched a thick eyebrow, white against his brown skin, and Salina nodded.

  “I wondered when you’d reach out,” the Harbormaster’s voice came from his mouth. “I suppose you want to know what happened?”

  “That would be a good place to start,” Salina said. She tried to mask her anger, but that left her speaking in clipped tones. “It has been three days. Where are they?”

  “It takes time to rebuild the connections after Rebirth,” the Harbormaster said.

  “Rebirth?” Salina gasped. “Did the girl slit your throat?”

  “Hardly,” the other woman sniffed. “It was the Dead Gods. They tried to assassinate me. Well, her, I think, but my servant burst in with a Veneficus and another, so they may have been trying for the whole lot.”

  “Gods,” Salina breathed. “I think you’d better start at the beginning.” She sat down as the Harbormaster told her story through Katal’s mouth. For once, Salina didn’t find it strange to hear that high, melodic voice coming from his blunt features. She’d known it was a long chalk to send that pair into the middle of a thousand leagues of Godsforsaken sea and sand, but—But the Board wanted it and I convinced myself.

  True, they’d found clues to follow almost from the start. That was Buc. But they’d almost died twice. The Dead Gods and their priests played for keeps. In a way, being dead, they were worse than the Sin Eaters the Company hired. You couldn’t reason with a corpse, and their priests were about as imaginative as the dead deities they worshiped.

  The Empire knew religion had its uses, or else the first Emperor would have stamped out worship a millennia ago. Or maybe he had tried, but back then his writ hadn’t extended past one of the three islands that made up present-day Servenza. Every ruler of every nation since had found a reason to use those religions, with each generation becoming more entangled until it became hard to discern whom was using whom. It might not matter so much if the two sides didn’t hate each other with a passion that made the Empire’s relationship with Normain look almost congenial in comparison.

  Katal had told her once that there could never be peace until one or the other—nation or faith—had been eliminated, and that their fight, Katal’s fight, was eternal. The man had seemed strangely satisfied about it all too. I’ve no part in that. The Company was supposed to be neutral, free of the restraints of statehood—but were they really free? She was speaking with a Sin Eater through another Sin Eater. If she didn’t use the mages, she’d have no clue what was going on along the Shattered Coast. And no information meant disaster when it came to trade. A fine net cast around our shoulders.

  “I found an empty vial in the dead man’s trouser pocket. The girl’s protector must have blown his head off before he could Transfigure or Goddess knows what creature would have attacked me. Fucking Dead Gods and their fucking disgusting undead fingers bludgeoning along where they don’t fucking belong.” The cursing brought Salina back to the moment. It was disorienting to hear that melodic voice speaking such dross through Katal’s thick lips. But she’d never met a Sin Eater who could think rationally when it came to the Dead Gods and their priests. “We should kill every fucking one of them and burn their temples to the ground. A corpse will burn easier than you’d think.”

  “Enough,” Salina snapped. “I don’t care an olive for your war.”

  “You—”

  “More important,” Salina spoke over the other woman, “the Company doesn’t pay for your war. We pay for information. Where did Buc and Eld go? Were they injured?”

  “Not that I could tell,” the Harbormaster replied stiffly. “The dockmaster said two matching their description boarded one of your ships, the Sea Dragon, and set sail shortly thereafter.”

  “Sea Dragon?” Salina closed her eyes and the ship leapt forward in her mind. She knew every ship they financed in the Shattered Coast, down to the smallest rigger. The Sea Dragon wasn’t small, but the brig wasn’t as formidable as a frigate, or better yet, a man o’ war. “Why’d you send them away on a brig?”

  “I didn’t send them away,” the Harbormas
ter protested. “I was poisoned, Salina! Katal can tell you what Rebirth is like. I wasn’t myself for a day and even after that I wasn’t of much use. And those two sailed within the hour. Had they stayed as I commanded them to, I would have found them something more formidable.” Katal licked his lips.

  “This isn’t my fault. I kept them alive when that goat-fucking Veneficus would have ripped them limb from limb. Besides, do you really expect that they will come back with the Widowmaker’s skull as a figurehead? When all others have failed?”

  “There’s failure and then there’s failure,” Salina said carefully. She felt her face heat at mention of the Widowmaker. I warned the Board about her! But no one listens to a junior partner. “We need more information,” she said when she had control of her voice. “I know the Shattered Coast is vast, but how can we not know what is happening to our ships? Our fleet—” She bit her tongue. Can you even call it a fleet anymore? “I don’t understand.”

  “No, you don’t,” the Harbormaster agreed. “You think you do, but, Salina, you haven’t been here. Vast? Is the sky vast? You can sail days without sighting land and that’s after you’ve arrived. Then suddenly you’ll find yourself surrounded by specks of islands here and there, most swarming with islanders and no way of knowing if they are peaceful or have a taste for human flesh until it’s too late.” Salina could hear the shudder in her voice. “The south is mostly uncharted waters, the Dead Gods are finally making the play we’ve been warning you of for decades, and oh, by the way, the Widowmaker is sinking every ship in her path. Is it any wonder we know nothing?”

  “Buc and Eld will find it,” Salina said with a conviction that she couldn’t feel.

  “I’m sure,” the other woman snorted.

  “They were smart enough to avoid being poisoned by your servant,” Salina shot back.

  Katal snarled, but when he spoke, the Harbormaster was calm. “Fair point. Setting that aside … there is something I learned during my Rebirth.”

  “Something you learned?”

  “Aye. I think it relates to the Dead Gods and why they’ve shown their hand, finally. You’ve received our reports that they are multiplying like fleas on an old dog, here?”