Tress sat on a stool in front of Fort, who insisted—via his incredible writing board—that he wasn’t doing her a favor, and this was merely a trade. Tress saw through it. She saw it in the way he refilled her cup （the same bronze one she had used earlier） when it got low, and how he had saved her a bit of cake for dessert. It was awful, old and crusty like the rest, but the thought meant something.
Moons, it hurt. Not the food; her own betrayal. She’d known these people only a day, but she still smiled when Ulaam sauntered in and haggled for the gull bones from dinner, which Fort had saved for him. It was not the haggling itself that she smiled at, but the fond way the two sported during it. This ship was a family. A doomed family led by a mother who didn’t care for them.
Tress had to do something.
“Fort,” she said, looking down at her plate and pushing around the last bit of what she hoped was gull meat. “I don’t think Captain Crow has the crew’s best interests at heart.”
Fort froze, holding a cup he’d been polishing. A nice pewter mug, with delightful nicks along the rim from repeated use. Tress didn’t know if it was from the seventh-century Horgswallow tradition or simply a close copy, but it was an excellent specimen.
“I…I listened in on her,” Tress said. “When she and Laggart—”
That’s enough, Fort wrote. Anything more will get you tossed overboard, Tress. No speaking mutiny.
“But Fort,” she said, lowering her voice, “you were worried about the cannonballs, and I discovered—”
He slapped the counter to cut her off. Then he very deliberately wrote in large letters, NO MORE.
Moonshadows…he looked terrified, broken fingers trembling as he tapped on his board.
Captain visited, asked why I was being so nosy. Shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t you say anything. It’s too dangerous. SHE’S too dangerous.
He erased those words quickly, glancing toward the door, sweating as he shook the board and made certain nothing incriminating remained.
Finish your food, Fort wrote.
“Why are you all so scared of her?” Tress said. “She’s just one person.”
Fort’s eyes widened. You don’t know, he wrote. Of course you don’t. And I won’t say; not my place. But she could kill every one of us, Tress. Easy as that. So keep your tongue and LET IT DROP. He punctuated that by putting the board down and turning away from her.
So much for warning the crew about the captain’s plans. She forced herself to eat her last bite of the meal, then slipped out of the quartermaster’s office. She lethargically walked back onto the upper deck, her belly full, her feet feeling like they were chained.
“Moons,” Huck whispered from her shoulder. “We need to get away from here before the place turns nasty. How are we going to escape? You never told me.”
In response, Tress raised a finger and pointed. The Verdant Moon dumped spores far in the distance, but was close enough to illuminate the deck with a green glow. Ahead of the ship, lights dappled a large shadow. Land, and the port city of Shimmerbay. Freedom.
“I could sneak away no problem,” Huck said. “But they’ll be watching you. Captain will set guards, Tress. They won’t let you go.”
“Ah, but they will,” she said, sick.
The captain ordered the crew to quarters for the night, saying they were making a quick stop and anyone who tried to sneak off would be flogged. Then she set Laggart on watch. But Tress slept on the deck as she had the night before—and with no sailing to be done, there was no one to trip over her.
Around midnight, Laggart wandered off to use the privy. He made certain to clomp loudly on the steps, to wake Tress—who wasn’t asleep, though she appreciated the gesture. She stood up, quietly gathered up her sack of cups, then crossed the empty deck.
“Huh,” Huck said. “If they didn’t want anyone getting off…why did they run a gangplank down to the dock?”
“Because,” Tress whispered, standing there, “Crow wants me to spread the story of the Oot’s Dream sinking. Remember, the captain wants this crew to be deadrunners. If I am allowed to slip away, she presumes I’ll tell everyone.
“Then the crew will be trapped beneath the captain’s will. They’re too afraid of her to mutiny, and as long as they’re too frightened of the law to escape, they’ll have to do what she says. Sail dangerous spores, essentially as her slaves.”
“Poor lunatics,” Huck said. “Well, let’s get away before we end up like them.”
Tress hesitated at the top of the gangplank. Shimmerbay was a good distance from Kingsport, but she could make her way there. Continue her plan of figuring out what the Sorceress wanted for Charlie, then find a way to free him.
“Tress,” Huck said, “I can’t help noticing that you aren’t moving.”
“I should stay,” she whispered. “And help the crew.”
“What?” Huck exclaimed. “No, you shouldn’t.”
“They’ve been so kind to me.”
“You barely even met them! You don’t owe them anything.”
“I saved you when I’d barely met you,” Tress said. “I didn’t owe you anything.”
“Well, I mean…” The rat rubbed his paws. “Yeah, but…well… Huh.”
She didn’t know if she could rescue Charlie. She wanted to so badly, but his pain—though poignant to her—wasn’t something she could immediately prevent.
The people of this crew were different.
“Maybe if I can help the crew,” Tress said, “they’ll take me to the Midnight Sea to get Charlie.”
“They’re pirates.”
“They’re a family,” Tress said. A plan started to form. A way she could stop Crow in secret. “And I…Huck, I need to do what I can. For them.”
Decision made, a weight came off her. She wasn’t abandoning Charlie. But this was something she needed to do.
“Oh boy,” Huck said as Tress turned around and walked back to her sleeping spot.
“You should run,” Tress said to him. “Get away. I won’t blame you, Huck. It’s the smart thing to do.”
He clicked his teeth together, and she thought maybe that was a ratty version of a shrug. “I have a good feeling about you,” he said. “But, I mean, are you sure about this?”
Of course I’m not, Tress thought. I haven’t been sure of anything since I left the Rock.
Something flared in the night. A match. Tress felt a spike of alarm as she saw the light illuminate a figure sitting on the steps up to the quarterdeck. Captain Crow, her face outlined in orange as she lit her pipe.
Had she seen? Had she heard Tress talking to Huck? The captain puffed on her pipe and waved out the match, plunging her face into darkness—backlit by the bright, moon-filled sky.
“Captain?” Tress asked.
“You should run, girl,” Crow said. “You’ve proven yourself these last two days, and I judge you worthy of life. So go ahead. Slip away into the night.”
“I…” Tress took a deep breath. “I want to join your crew.”