Namesake

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by Adrienne Young


  Ezra ignored him, leaning in closer to Auster as he spoke. “Might not have been a good idea to bring him. Henrik will be here any minute.”

  “Good luck getting him out of here,” Auster muttered.

  But Ezra’s easiness disappeared, his edges sharpening as his attention landed on me. He recognized me almost immediately. “What is she doing here?”

  “She’s a friend,” Auster answered.

  “You sure about that? I just saw her at Holland’s.”

  “I’m sure.” Auster set a hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “How are you?”

  Ezra had a hard time pulling his gaze from me. “I’m fine, Aus.”

  Auster didn’t seem convinced, leaning low to catch Ezra’s eyes.

  “Good,” Ezra pressed. “I’m good.”

  Auster gave a nod, accepting the answer. “We have a commission for you.”

  Ezra surveyed him skeptically before he went back to the desk. “What kind of commission?”

  “One we know you can do,” I interrupted.

  Ezra’s hand froze on the book in front of him at the sound of my voice. The lantern light cast the scars on his hands silver. I pulled the parchment I’d prepared from my jacket and unfolded it, setting it before him.

  Ezra’s eyes ran over it slowly, widening. “Is this a joke?”

  The door behind him flung open, slamming against the wall, and I jolted, taking a step back. The flash of steel glinted in West’s hand beside me.

  An older man stood in the opening, one hand tucked into the pocket of a leather apron. His mustache was curled up on the ends, his hair combed neatly to one side. Pale blue eyes shone from beneath bushy eyebrows as they jumped from me to Paj, finally landing on Auster.

  “Ah,” he crooned, a wide smile breaking on his lips. But it was missing the warmth that Ezra’s had. “Tru said the lost Roth darling was sitting in my parlor. I told him it wasn’t possible. That my nephew wouldn’t have the guts to show up here as long as he lived.”

  “Guess you were wrong,” Auster said, meeting his gaze coolly.

  “I see you brought your benefactor.” Henrik looked to Paj. “Happy to re-break that nose. Maybe we can get it straight this time.”

  “Only one way to find out,” Paj growled, moving toward him.

  Auster caught him in the chest with the flat of his palm, and Henrik laughed, taking a pipe from the shelf. “Thought you were done with the Roths, Auster.”

  “I am. That doesn’t mean I can’t do business with them.”

  Henrik arched an eyebrow curiously. “What business could you possibly have that we would want?”

  Auster jerked his chin to the parchment on the desk and Henrik picked it up. “What the—”

  “Can you do it or not?” Auster barked.

  “Of course we can. The question is, why the hell would we?” Henrik laughed.

  “Name your price,” I said, ready to negotiate.

  Henrik narrowed his eyes at me. “Who’d you bring into my house, Auster?” The timber of his voice was verging on dangerous.

  “I’m Fable. Holland’s granddaughter. And I’m looking for a silversmith.”

  Henrik looked down his nose at me. “There is no price I’d take for that commission. Crossing Holland will put an end to our business in Bastian. For good.”

  “What if I told you that Holland won’t be your problem anymore?”

  “Then I’d tell you that you’re as stupid as you are pretty,” Henrik taunted. “I’d make more coin telling Holland you were here than I would off of your commission.”

  It was exactly what I’d been afraid he’d say. There was no reason for him to trust me and there was nothing I could offer him that would be more valuable than what Holland could. He’d be taking more than one chance by helping us.

  My eyes trailed around the room. Peeling wallpaper, expensive candlesticks, the finest tailored jacket hanging on a rusted hook. Henrik was like Zola. A man trying to be something he never could. Not until he had one thing.

  “Do this commission and I’ll give you what Holland can’t,” I said.

  Henrik’s smile faded, replaced by a tick in his jaw. “And what is that?”

  I stared at him. “A merchant’s ring.” The words withered in my mouth as I said them. There was no way to know if I could actually deliver. But if anyone could get one, it would be Saint.

  Merchants had to apprentice for years before they could make a bid for a ring. And there were only so many rings to be given from each guild. Often, merchants were working beneath an older one, waiting for them to die or give up their trade.

  His hand stilled on the match until the flame was so close to his fingertips that he had to put it out. “What?”

  “I can get you a merchant’s ring if you deliver. And only if it stays quiet.”

  “You’re lying.” The words dripped with fury.

  But I could already see that I had him. The desperation of the prospect was all over his face. “I’m not. One merchant’s ring from the Trade Council in the Narrows.”

  “The Narrows? We live in Bastian, sweetheart.”

  “We both know that a ring from one guild makes it easier to get one from the other. Which do you want more? Holland’s favor, or a ring to buy your own?”

  Henrik lit another match, puffing on the pipe until smoke was billowing from the chamber. “Did Auster tell you what will happen to you if you lie to me?”

  “He did.”

  “Your grandmother will be finding pieces of you all over this city,” he said softly. “And I’ll have to take my nephew off your hands in the spirit of restitution.”

  Paj’s fists clenched. I was sure that at any moment, he was going to tear across the room and break Henrik’s neck.

  Henrik picked up the parchment, studying the rendering. I’d done it only by memory, my skill not even close to what it should be. But they knew exactly what I was looking for. “Only a Narrows-born urchin would be this stupid.”

  “Only Saltbloods would be this soft,” I shot back. “Will you do it?”

  Henrik looked to Ezra, who stood stoically against the wall. Whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.

  After a moment, Henrik reached up, taking hold of Auster’s shoulder. He squeezed it. A little too tightly.

  “We’ll do it.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The sails of the Marigold unrolled in unison, slapping against the masts as the sun set over the water. In only a day we’d pulled together everything we needed for the dive at Yuri’s Constellation and in minutes, we’d be sailing into the dark.

  Henrik agreed to accept our commission, but taking him at his word was like putting faith in the ability of adder stones to protect from sea demons. In the end, there was no way to know what the Roths would do.

  The only thing that seemed sure was the fact that our days were numbered. One way or another, Holland was going to make her move. And if she did, the Narrows would never be the same.

  I watched Clove standing at the end of the dock with his jacket buttoned up to his chin. I slipped my hands into my pockets and breathed into the scarf wound around my neck as I walked toward him. The sea was gray and blustery, fighting dusk.

  He said nothing as I came to stand behind him. His cheeks were reddened by the wind, the tip of his nose rosy.

  “Do you think Saint can do it?” I watched his face as he stared out at the water, thinking. His pale blond hair had come out from under his cap, blowing around his face.

  “I don’t know,” he said. Clove hadn’t been happy when I told him that we’d gone to Henrik. He was even angrier when I told him what I’d offered him.

  I didn’t know what my father would say when he found out what I’d been up to. I could only hope he’d play along. Getting a merchant’s ring for a criminal was next to impossible. But if I wanted the Roths to come through with the safety net we needed, I had to have it. “Six days.”

  “Six days,” he repeated.

  The Trade Council m
eeting in Sagsay Holm would bring together every licensed trader from the Unnamed Sea and the Narrows. If Holland had her way, she’d secure approval from the Council to open her trade to Ceros. If I had mine, she’d never get the chance to sail our waters.

  Clove would have to move fast if he was going to get to Ceros and back to Sagsay Holm with Saint in time.

  “What do you know about the midnight, Clove? Honestly.”

  He sighed. “Nothing. I only know that your mother took it when she left Bastian and that she didn’t want it found.”

  “She told you about it?”

  “After one too many glasses of rye.” He smirked. “I wasn’t sure it was true until Holland told the same story.”

  If Isolde had taken it, she’d done it for a reason. The only thing that made sense was that she didn’t want the midnight in Holland’s hands. Midnight’s worth was in its rarity. After it was unveiled to the Trade Council of the Unnamed Sea, it vanished, making it no more than a myth.

  “I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” I whispered, watching the water flash silver in the rising sunlight. “Saint would never do it for me.”

  Clove turned slowly, looking down at me. “You can’t really believe that.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  He snorted, shaking his head. “That man would sink his fleet for you, Fable. He’d walk away from everything.”

  A lump curled painfully in my throat. “No, he wouldn’t.”

  Clove pulled the cap back on his head, casting his face in shadow. “Isolde isn’t the only name we aren’t allowed to say.” He kissed the top of my head. “You be careful. And you watch that crew.”

  “Watch them?”

  “They look about ready to throw that helmsman overboard. And you with him.”

  I clenched my teeth, looking past him to the Marigold.

  “I’ll see you in Sagsay Holm.”

  I watched him go, breathing through the sting smarting behind my eyes. The words he’d said about my father were dangerous things. They held the power to crush me. Because the most fragile hope I’d ever held was that somewhere in the flesh and bone of him, Saint had loved me.

  There was a part of me that was terrified to find out if it was true. And an even bigger part that knew it would destroy me.

  I climbed the ladder hand over hand until the sound of shouting made me still. I looked over my shoulder to see Holland coming through the archway of the harbor, wrapped in a blood-red cloak. I jumped back down, watching as she floated toward us, her sterling hair flowing behind her.

  She was flanked by three guards on each side, taking up the width of the walkway. The dockworkers had to move out of her way, pushing down the slips as she passed.

  “West!” Willa called out. She was watching with wide eyes from the railing.

  He appeared beside her a moment later and as soon as he spotted Holland, he climbed over the side, landing beside me. “What is this?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  Holland turned down our dock without looking up, her eyes on the sea. The colors of the sunset danced over her face, making her cloak glow like a hot blade held to fire. She lifted a hand into the air and the guards stopped, leaving her to make the rest of the way down the slip on her own.

  She smiled warmly as she stopped before us. “Thought I’d see you off.”

  West glared at her. “Just in time.”

  Hamish came down the dock behind Holland, marking in his log. He nearly crashed into her before one of her men took him by the collar and yanked him back. When his eyes finally lifted from the parchments, he looked as if he might fall over with shock. He stepped around Holland carefully, coming to stand behind us.

  “We’ll see you in Sagsay Holm,” I said, turning back to the ladder.

  “All I require of you before you leave is your deed.” She opened her hand before us, grinning.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “The deed. To the Marigold.”

  West took a step toward her, and her guards instantly drew closer, hands on the hilts of their short swords. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to—”

  “You don’t trust me,” she said, eyes narrowing. “And I don’t trust you. I have no way of knowing if you’ll show up in Sagsay Holm or give me the midnight if you find it. I require the deed to the Marigold or the deal’s off.”

  West turned to fire beside me, the line of his shoulders hardening, his skin flushing red.

  “We’re not giving you the deed,” I said.

  “There’s no reason to worry if you plan to hold up your end of the deal, Fable. What do you have to lose?”

  But we both knew the answer to that question. I stood to lose Saint.

  West turned to Hamish, who looked stunned.

  “You can’t be serious,” he said, his eyes wide behind the lenses of his spectacles.

  West held out a hand, waiting. Up on the deck of the ship, the rest of the crew was at work, readying the Marigold to shove off.

  I watched in horror as Hamish reached into his jacket and pulled a worn envelope from inside. “West, don’t.” I reached for him, but he pushed past me, taking the deed from Hamish and handing it to Holland.

  Holland opened it, pulling the folded parchment free. The stamp of the Narrows Trade Council was pressed into the top right corner of the document, the black ink penned in an expert hand. West’s name was listed in its ownership.

  She slipped it back into the envelope, satisfied.

  Behind me, West was already climbing the ladder. He disappeared over the railing as his voice echoed out. “Raise anchor!”

  “See you in Sagsay Holm.” Holland turned, picking up her cloak as she made her way back up the slip.

  I cursed, climbing the ladder. When I came onto the deck, Koy was draped lazily over a stack of piled rope, his hands clasped like a hammock behind his head. Willa slid down the mizzen, glaring at him before she went to the bowanchor to help Paj with the crank.

  Hamish muttered something under his breath when he made it up the ladder, and we both watched West to see what he would do. He looked over Paj’s notes in the navigator’s log, but the cold I could feel creeping toward me from him made me shiver.

  Hamish gave me a wary look.

  “You just going to stand there?” Willa clipped.

  I turned to see her standing over Koy.

  He gave her an easy smile. “Yeah. Unless you want to pay me extra to crew this ship.”

  Willa’s cheeks flushed with rage as she went back to the crank. Koy looked pleased with himself, tapping his fingers on his elbows as he watched her from the corner of his eye.

  Clove’s warning echoed in my mind. By the time we got to Sagsay Holm, the Marigold might not even have a crew.

  “What was that?” Paj asked, looking down at the dock, where Holland was walking through the archway.

  West went to the helm, his attention on the sails. “It was nothing.”

  The rest of the crew had no idea what had just happened. And West wasn’t going to tell them. Hamish looked utterly confused, holding the coin master’s log before him.

  West handed the helm off to Paj, jerking his chin to the starboard side. “Keep an eye on him.”

  He was talking about Koy, who was still reclined over the ropes, watching Willa tie off the lines.

  Paj answered with a reluctant nod, and West unbuttoned his jacket and disappeared into the breezeway.

  I looked back to Hamish, who raised his eyebrows. He was worried. Wondering where the line of his allegiance was. Cover for West or tell the crew about the deed?

  I followed West into his quarters, closing the door behind me. He stood at the table beside his cot, recording a series of measurements into the navigator’s log. His lips moved silently around the numbers as he wrote. When he finally looked up at me, it was with the same distance that he’d had that morning in the tavern.

  “Looks like we can be there by nightfall tomorrow if the wind hol
ds,” he said, closing the book. The quill rolled across the table.

  I nodded, still waiting for whatever else he was going to say. But he was quiet, going to his desk and pulling open the drawer to drop the book inside. He absently fidgeted with the maps on the desk and I stepped to the side to meet his eyes, but he turned another inch away from me.

  I sighed. “You shouldn’t have done that. Given her the deed.” The sight of the muscles in his neck surfacing under the skin made me feel suddenly like my stomach was turning, my skin flashing hot. “I won’t let you lose the Marigold, West. I swear.”

  He huffed, shaking his head. “You can’t promise that.”

  “I can.” I caught my bottom lip with my teeth when it began to quiver.

  West crossed his arms, leaning into the wall beside the window. The string of adder stones clinked together as they swung in the wind. Whatever thoughts whispered in his mind darkened the light in his eyes, making him tense all over.

  “You have to tell them about the deed,” I said.

  “That’s the last thing they want to hear.”

  “It doesn’t matter. They deserve to know.”

  “You don’t understand.” The words were just a breath.

  “I do.”

  “No, you don’t. You have Saint. Now you have Holland.” He swallowed. “But us? Me, Willa, Paj, Auster, Hamish … all we have is each other.”

  “Then why did you force them to do this?”

  He swallowed. “Because I can’t lose them. And I can’t lose you.”

  I wanted to reach out and touch him. To pull him into my arms. But the walls around him were built up high. “I’m going to get the deed back,” I said again. “Whatever it takes.”

  West stepped toward me. Even in the cold cabin, I could feel the warmth of him. “We do this, and then we’re done with Saint.” He reached up, taking hold of my jacket with both hands and holding me in place. “Promise me.”

  I looked up into his face, not a hint of hesitation in my voice. “I promise.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  The night sea stretched out around the Marigold like a black chasm, melting into a clear, dark sky.

  Paj and Auster were gathered on the quarterdeck with bowls of stew clutched in their hands when I came up the steps from below. The silence crept over the ship, making the crush of the hull cutting through the water sound like whispers.

 

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