Vengeance of the Pirate Queen(13)

“Was the only person who cared about me?” Kearan asks. “And now? Who else cares about me now?”

“Only Alosa.”

Kearan looks disappointed, as though he hoped I’d say someone else. He recovers quickly, though. “She tried to kill me once.”

“You manhandled her.”

“Under Draxen’s orders.”

“She’s killed men for far less.”

“Or sent you to do it for her.”

I say nothing. We both know it’s true.

“You be nice to Enwen,” I threaten, because this is the kind of language I understand best.

“You like him?” Kearan asks carefully.

“He is part of my crew, which means he has my protection.”

“Do I have your protection?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Can you protect me from Enwen’s prattling?”

Our eyes catch, Kearan looking as though he’s fighting a smile. Meanwhile, I’m fighting the urge to dismember him.

“Let’s get something straight. If you make one wrong move on this ship, I will kill you.”

He lets the smile show in full force. “I’d really like to see you try.”

“You won’t see me coming,” I assure him.

My appearance on the deck has lasted long enough. I disappear back into my quarters, toss the stupid tricorne on the other side of the room, slide out of the coat, and breathe.





Chapter 4





THE NEXT MORNING, I’M introduced to the first benefit of being captain: private breakfast in the morning. One of the kitchen girls brings me a tray of fluffy biscuits and sweet porridge. I eat every morsel in blissful silence. Then I don my captain’s coat, but before I exit the room, I catch sight of the tricorne Kearan foolishly gifted me. It landed upside down on the opposite side of the room. All alone on the floor.

I glare at it before leaving.

The first thing I notice is Dimella standing at the port side of the main deck. She appears to be staring off to sea, so I assume she’s waiting for me. However, when I approach, I spot the bird perched on the railing.

“Good morning, Captain,” Dimella says without turning.

Her back is to me, so I can’t simply nod my greeting. I say, “Morning.” Then, because I ought to make some attempt at conversation with my first mate, I ask, “How was our first night?”

“Smooth. The queen chose an excellent crew. I think it’ll be a fine voyage.”

“Until we run into trouble.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Does the crew know where we’re going and why?”

“Aye. Everyone aboard volunteered for this mission, though I wouldn’t be surprised if most are here in an attempt to impress the queen. Either way, they’re prepared.”

I eye the yellow-and-black bird before us. There’s a small scroll tied to its leg. We’re only on day two of our journey, and Alosa’s already sent a missive?

Dimella says, “I’ve been watching over the bird to ensure no one but you opened the queen’s note.”

“Thank you.”

I untie the scroll from the yano bird’s leg. It sits patiently, not even fidgeting at the attention. I unroll the parchment and read:

Sorinda,

We’re a sailor short at the keep. Wallov’s frantic. We think Roslyn might have stowed away on your ship. Would you search Vengeance and send word as quickly as possible?

—Alosa



I hand the parchment to Dimella so she can read it, too.

“I don’t think there’s anyone aboard who isn’t supposed to be,” she says after glancing it over. “I took roll and acquainted myself with each person on the ship.”

“She won’t be among the crew. She’ll be hiding, likely in the hold.”

“Impossible. I oversaw the storage.”

“Don’t take it personally, Dimella. Roslyn may be seven, but she’s craftier than a snake. She’s on here somewhere, and we need to find her.”

“Shall I task the crew with it?”

“Don’t bother. I’ll find her. Please carry on as normal.”

I feel Kearan’s eyes on me as I make for the hatch belowdecks, but I don’t spare the helmsman a look. Sailors rise from their bunks and stand to attention when I walk through the sleeping quarters, murmuring greetings of Captain.

“Carry on,” I say, supremely uncomfortable with all the attention as I pass dozens of hammocks and eventually end up in the galley.

A few girls are scrubbing at the dishes from breakfast, but one a bit older than the rest steps forward. She’s olive-skinned with shimmery straight brown hair. A sheen of sweat is gathered at her forehead, and she has a broom in hand.

“Captain,” she says. “I’m Jadine, head cook. Was there something the matter with your breakfast?”

“Not at all. I enjoyed it very much. I’m here because I’ve just received word we might have a stowaway on the ship. Have you noticed any food missing?”

“Aye. I gave my cleaning crew a stern talking-to this morning for it. I thought they might have helped themselves.”

“It wasn’t them.”

I pass through a second hatch to reach the cargo hold and brig. The ship isn’t quite big enough to have a standard-sized third level. I have to crouch while walking and light a lantern to see by because there aren’t any portholes this low on the ship.