“You’re turning into quite the pirate.”
I’m so surprised to hear the voice, this high above the deck, that my fingers slip from the riggings. A small shriek escapes my lips right as a hand grips my wrist, steadying me. I look up, heart thudding in my chest, and see Dane crouched above me in the ropes, perfectly balanced.
He helps me climb the last few feet. The first time I did this I was so shaky it was embarrassing. The ropes, swaying with the ship and shifting with every gust of wind, were nothing like the solid automatons I was used to, and I could hear the crew chuckling from the deck below. But now I enjoy it, the Streak like a living thing rolling beneath me, the iron implants—Wreska’s work—blazing in the evening light. Up here I feel as if I can scrape the blue off of the sky. It’s a world of freedom.
“Thanks,” I pant. “You as well.”
I mean it as a compliment, but as Dane straightens again, leaning back against the mast, something flashes across his face so quickly I can’t quite decipher it. Pain, maybe. Weariness. Then it’s gone.
“Dane?” I ask softly. “What’s the matter?”
He sighs, folding his arms and staring out at the water. “I don’t know. I guess I’m feeling a bit...untethered lately. I’m glad you’re getting the chance to find your brother, Karis. I’m glad Alix is getting the chance to figure out his runes. But for me...” He shrugs, and there’s an apathy to that gesture I don’t like. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing anymore.”
I thought I knew Dane better than anyone. That I would always be able to tell when he was putting on a show and when he was being real. When did that stop being true? “Dane, I know words aren’t enough to change what I did but—”
“It’s not even that. I chose to do what I did. But at the same time, in that moment, everything I ever wanted and worked for disappeared, and I made the exact choice I would have done back when I had nothing. What if a street brat is all I am?”
“I like the street brat,” I whisper.
As soon as the words are out, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. Dane’s face contorts.
“Dane, I...”
“Scribe! Soldier boy!”
Dane stiffens as Zara’s shout echoes up to us. Soldier boy. I didn’t realize until now how much that term must grate on him. A constant reminder of all he’s lost.
I look down through the tangle of ropes. Zara stands by the base of the mast with Alix and Finn. Zara steps forward, shielding her eyes as she looks up at us. “We’re drawing close. Get down here!”
Dane sighs, grabbing hold of a rope. “Duty calls,” he mutters and before I can say anything, he’s swinging down through the riggings. With a frown, I follow.
“Well, you two are just natural-born pirates, aren’t you?” Zara says.
Dane jumps easily to the deck, landing on his toes. He rolls his shoulders, looking at her coolly. “Is that an actual compliment?”
“Don’t get too used to it, soldier boy.”
“I have a name.”
Zara grins, her eyes dancing. She spins her three-pointed hat before sliding it on. “I know.” She flicks her hand. “Come on.”
She strides across the deck as Dane scowls after her. He turns to Finn. “Why does everyone here follow her? Most of the crew’s twice her age.”
Finn shrugs. “Because she found us. And she gave us a purpose, every one of us.” They follow after Zara.
As cryptic answers go, that one’s right up there. I want to ask, but I don’t. Zara told us not to pry into the secrets of this crew and I’m beginning to think she’s right. We have enough problems without getting involved in theirs.
The island we’re drawing near shows the first signs of life I’ve seen since coming on board, and it isn’t much. A stretch of rickety docks barely clings to the shore, a few sad boats bobbing on waves that gleam faintly beneath the setting sun. Reaching up onto land is a hodgepodge of small houses made of mud bricks with thatched roofs, packed so closely together there’s barely room for the streets.
I’ve never been here. Never been anywhere near this place. And yet I’m instantly reminded of Heretis. I recognize this world, of poverty and scarcity, of a life built off of stealing scraps. I glance over at Dane and see the troubled look on his own face before he shifts away.
Aiken navigates the ship to a cove off the side of the island. Zara and Kocha, then Dane and Alix climb down the ladder into the boat.
I look at Finn, surprised. “Not coming?”
They glance at their sister, working on the other side of the deck, and then they smile, slipping their thumbs into their belt. But there’s something strained about their expression. “Not really for me, honestly. I should be helping Ava anyways.”
“Karis!” Zara calls. “Hurry it up.”
I shrug and climb into the boat.
Kocha rows us to shore and we follow a lumpy path up through the cliff side and across the island, back toward the village. There’s not much out here, just a bit of scrubland with the odd goat who bleats at us in consternation before running off. Shadows stretch across the dry ground as the sun arcs toward the horizon.
Everything’s so low, we can see the village long before we get to it. It doesn’t improve on closer inspection. The clay walls are riddled with cracks, and so many chunks are missing in the thatched roofs I doubt they’d keep out a drizzle.
Kocha takes us down one of the twisting streets. I trail at the back. On Heretis, I knew every alley, every turn; which ones could give us a quick getaway and which were dead ends. Here, as soon as we enter the labyrinth I’m lost. The buildings aren’t large, but they’re so close they crowd over us. Crates and barrels crush out the little remaining space in the narrow streets. There aren’t that many people, and those that are here mostly ignore us, scuttling on their way. The stink of fish and sweat hangs like a musk in the air.
A child dashes in front of us, thin, with tangles in her hair and suddenly I see myself as I was back then. The gaunt face that always looked at me from every puddle, the dirt that never seemed to rub off. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. Coming here is bringing it all back: the dull ache of hunger in my stomach, the fearful restlessness that always kept us running, the exhaustion clinging to my limbs that I couldn’t ever seem to shake. The memories slosh up over my head, trying to drown me.
“You all right there?”
Zara drops back next to me and when I glance at her, there’s no sympathy in her eyes, only a keenness that I don’t want to deal with right now. There are things about that life I haven’t even been able to share with Dane, things no one knows beside Matthias. And I can’t say I’m real interested in sharing them with her.
“I used to live in a place like this, that’s all.” I keep my voice flat. Flat is safer with her. “It’s not a time I want to remember.”
Zara looks around at the dilapidated houses, the cracked streets, and I wonder what she sees. She’s a pirate captain now, so she might have grown up in a place like this. It’s not like many aristoi end up in her position. And yet somehow, that sort of beginning doesn’t fit her at all. Honestly, I’m not sure what sort of beginning would fit Zara. There’s something about her I can’t quite grasp.
“Almost makes you angry, doesn’t it?” she asks. “When you see people having to live like this, when only a few islands away there are great, gleaming Scriptoriums.”
I snort. I was right. She definitely wasn’t a street kid.
She quirks a brow. “Something to share?”
“Not really.”
“Come, Karis,” she chides. “Don’t start being shy now.”
I roll my eyes, but I guess I take the bait because I gesture at the houses. “Look around you. Anger does nothing in a place like this. It changes nothing and it gets you nowhere.” I should know. Back then I had so much anger I thought it’d burn me aliv
e. When the fever claimed both my parents. When our landlord chased us from our shop. When I had to watch my brother being beaten as I was pinned to some dirty wall. I was so sure if I pushed back hard enough I could force the world to be fair to us. I might as well have been wishing on a star. “The world is what it is.”
Zara lets out a bark of laughter, so brash the others ahead of us glance back.
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“I didn’t expect that from you.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you’ve been nothing but fire since you got on board my ship. Wanting to learn to fight. Snapping at anyone on my crew who looked at you the wrong way. Even managing to escape from your Scriptorium, to come all this way...and then all I get is a shrug?”
I’m starting to get irritated. “What else am I supposed to do, Captain?”
She studies me for a long moment, and then a smile curls up at the edge of her mouth that I don’t trust at all. “Fight.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. But Zara’s being serious.
“Fight who?” I finally say. “The Scriptorium? You can’t fight people like them.”
“Sure, you can.”
“Says the pirate captain.”
I mean the words as an insult but she simply laughs and spreads her arms wide. “I’m a thorn in the side of the Scriptorium and its master, and I’m proud.”
She just doesn’t get it. There are some fights that you can win. Like my brother. No matter what else happens, I’m getting him back. But other things you just can’t change. All you can do is get out before you get killed. “Well, good luck with that. Try to drop us off before the Scriptorium shoots your little ship to the bottom of the sea.”
I pick up my pace, irritated and flushed. Not even sure why I feel so irritated and flushed. If her goal was to make me angry, she certainly succeeded.
“Someone has to do it.”
I glare over my shoulder. Zara has stopped walking, the others pulling farther ahead. Part of me wants to follow them, but there’s a dare on her face and I’m not one to back down. I turn around.
Zara folds her arms over her chest, head tilted just enough that her eyes gleam in the shadows starting to swim through the alley. “And you know, I really expected you to rail about what the Scriptorium is doing. To want to change things for others who might be suffering just like you did.”
“Others?” I spit. If she really wants to have this conversation, I’ll have it. Because she has no idea what she’s talking about. “Do you know what others did when my brother and I were all alone? We begged for food and they smacked our hands away. We tried to take shelter in their doorways from the chill and the rain and they kicked us out. I’m not risking my life fighting for others who wouldn’t lift a finger to help me when I needed it, and I really don’t see that I deserve this lecture from a pirate.”
I throw the words in her face, and maybe that’s risky, but I want a rise from her. Because I’d know how to handle a fight.
But Zara just smiles. “There’s that anger. Funny how we use it to cloak what we’re most scared of.”
I gape at her. “Oh, yes? And what would I be scared of?”
She steps closer to me, so close I want to back away from the intense look in her eyes. I hold my ground.
“Caring.”
“Captain?” Kocha’s voice echoes back to us. “Everything all right?”
Zara flashes a grin over my shoulder. “It’s fine.” She strides down the street, without so much as a backward glance at me. I’m left staring after her, choking on the words I can’t put together and say.
I am not scared of caring. I just know better.
“Come on, Karis!” Zara shouts back. “Or we’ll leave you behind.”
I growl and stalk after the others. Alix shoots me a worried look but I don’t want his understanding right now. I brush past him.
As soon as I do it, I can almost imagine the hurt look on his face. For one moment, I think of turning back around, but I push that thought away. He doesn’t need to know what Zara said.
No one does.
Then I feel a hand on my shoulder.
Alix steps up to me. His face is hesitant. “I know I’m not good at this,” he says. “I’m here, though, if you ever need to talk.”
He follows after the others, and for the second time I’m left wordless. There’s a crack opening my chest. It’s been so long since I’ve let myself get close to someone. Even Dane. There’s been distance between us for years. But I don’t know what will happen if that crack gets any bigger.
I shove it down and pretend it isn’t really there.
The sky has gone full-on dark when we reach a squat building that sits at the center of three different streets. Its shutters are latched shut, but light and raucous laughter spill out between the boards. Somehow even that seems dirty.
Zara looks over her shoulder. “Alix, make sure to keep your hood up and head low in here.”
Alix looks vaguely queasy. I doubt he’s ever been anywhere near a seedy place like this. But he pulls his hood farther over his eyes.
Zara shoves open the door and struts in as if she owns the place. I trail in after her, and as much as my better instincts scream to keep my eyes on my feet, I can’t help but look around.
It’s a bar. Or at least I think it’s supposed to be a bar. Running along the back wall is a counter, though it’s little more than a long, notched plank of wood, bottles of a dozen different shapes and colors scattered along its length. The rest of the space is filled with tables and chairs, crudely fashioned from discarded barrels. Flickering candles jammed into the necks of bottles on the tables provide the light I saw from outside. Soot stains mar the ceiling and walls and I’m amazed this place hasn’t gone up in flames yet. It reeks of sweat and smoke and alcohol, the stench so strong my eyes water, and when I take a step forward the floor sticks beneath my feet. Somehow, I manage not to look down.
It was mostly quiet out on the streets, but there are at least a good twenty people in here, most of them Eratians, no doubt spending what little coin they have on dice and wine.
We wind through the tables, in and out of snippets of conversation.
“The catch has been bad for weeks...”
“I don’t know what’s going on in that man’s head sometimes...”
“Heard the Bandit broke right into the Acropolis and stole from the magistrate himself.”
I stop. The Acropolis, that’s in the City of Scholars. It’s the central Scriptorium, the one all the others report back to. The ruling seat of the magistrate.
I look at the two people at the table beside me, a man and a woman, hunched over their drinks.
The man scoffs. “The Bandit is nothing but a story.”
“He isn’t a story.” The woman thunks her mug down. “He’s the greatest thief alive.”
“Karis.” Zara grabs my arm and yanks me along. “Stop gawking.”
I scowl at her and pull my arm out of her grip. “Who were they talking about? Who’s this Bandit?”
“A thief in the City of Scholars, just like they said.”
“That’s it? That’s all you know?”
“What more do you expect?”
“Well, he’s a criminal. You’re a pirate.”
I say it to annoy her, but she just grins. “I did see him in action. Once. He was pretty incredible.”
“What did he do?”
She smirks. “Sorry. That’s confidential. You know, for us criminals and pirates.”
With that parting shot, she leaves me behind. I glare after her. I keep thinking I’ve just about grasped Zara, and I keep discovering that I don’t understand her at all.
We go to a table in the corner. It’s already occupied, by two boys with dirt packed in the creases of their skin and beneath their nail
s. They open their mouths as we come up, but Kocha pulls out his dagger and in the same movement slams the blade into the tabletop so hard it quivers. The boys’ mouths click shut and they scurry off. Effective.
“You’re going to wreck your knives doing that,” Zara says.
Kocha frees his blade. “Yes, Captain.”
We take our seats, me next to Alix. Kocha and Zara on the other side. It’s only once I’m down that I realize there’s only one place left for Dane: right next to Zara.
She grins as she pats the chair next to her. “Normally I wouldn’t give a soldier boy the seat of honor, but I suppose for you I can make an exception.”
Dane tenses, and I’m opening my mouth to interject, when his shoulders settle back and he arches a brow. “Well,” he says, his tone smooth, “I’ll try to rise to the occasion.”
Zara laughs, throaty and full. I smile, relieved Dane’s gotten a bit of his fighting spirit back.
Someone, I assume the barkeep from her thick apron, winds toward us, squeezing her considerable girth through the crowd with practiced ease. Her hair is streaked with gray and piled atop her head in a messy bun. She looks as if she could snap my wrist with a flick of her little finger. “Ah, if it isn’t the captain of the Crimson Streak. Wasn’t expecting you so soon after your last visit.”
Zara smiles. “Well, business comes as it comes.”
“What can I get for you and your crew?”
Dane opens his mouth, but Zara speaks first. “A round for us, and something extra for you.”
So quickly I barely see it, a slip of parchment passes between them. The barkeep gives Zara a cracked-tooth grin and sidles back to the counter.
Zara looks over at Kocha. “Go check if we have any packages to pick up.”
“Yes, Captain.” He leaves, back out the door we first came through.
I lean across the table and in as civil a voice as I can manage, say, “What package is this?”
Zara waves her hand. “You don’t have to worry about that. It’s my business, and Kocha can deal with it. Right now, we’re waiting to see where exactly my particular friend is.”
I narrow my eyes. I would not have agreed to come if I knew Zara would be running shady deals. I avoided things like that on the streets and I don’t want to get swept up in that sort of trouble now.
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