CHAPTER 9
Bowen
AFTER THE DINNER WITH EVELYN, IT’S A RELIEF TO FOCUS on work. No new correspondence has come in via the message system enchanted into my desk, so our plan to take refuge in Yaltia during the storm will work just fine. With that plan solidified, I head out onto the deck.
We’ve only caught the edges of the storm Dia saw, but it’s a nasty one. I take the helm as the crew follows my shouted orders. I don’t love storms for the danger they present, but I can’t deny that there’s a peace in moments like these. I’m here, pitting myself against nature herself. There is no past, no future. There’s only this moment of trying to stay alive.
As always, it’s over far too soon.
Miles appears at my side, his scales glistening in the rain. His tongue flicks out. “The island has been sighted. We’re almost there.”
Sarah is up in the crow’s nest as usual, relaying what she sees to Miles by way of her magic, using the wind to transfer her words as if she were standing right next to him. There was a time when she spoke to me directly, but she’s firmly among Miles’s supporters, and now prefers to relay her directions via the quartermaster. A small rebellion, but a marked trend in how some of the crew treat me.
There’s no time to worry about it now, though.
We easily avoid the rocks surrounding the island, even with the storm driving us at unsafe speeds. The relative shelter of the bay allows us to slow our pace enough to dock safely. I shove my wet hair out of my face and drag in a harsh breath. “We should be good, but check for damages and make sure everything’s lashed down. This one’s going to be a bitch, and I don’t want us to see any damage that might delay us. Let the crew know I expect them to be on their best behavior while in town.”
Miles gives me an unreadable look. “We’re C?n Annwn. We keep them safe. They should be greeting us like gods.”
It’s an old argument. I find that the people who join the C?n Annwn fall into three categories. The first is like Evelyn, who resent their new lot in life and have no desire to learn the history of the C?n Annwn. The second is like Miles, the people who see the status that being part of the C?n Annwn brings and think that respect is owed to them simply for being part of the crew. The third … well, people who shoulder the responsibility and carry out thankless task after thankless task, each more dangerous than the last, all while keeping an eye on the responsibility we’ve inherited? We’re a lot rarer.
“You tell them, Miles. Or I will.” And we both know how that will go. The crew may trust me to keep them alive and to guide them, but they don’t like me. I’m too rigid when it comes to the laws. At least that’s what I’ve been told. Miles has used that to his advantage again and again, but I don’t know how to be any other way. We are not gods to be worshiped. We act in service to the people who live in Threshold and beyond. But that belief isn’t very popular these days among the C?n Annwn, both among my crew and beyond.
His tail twitches restlessly. “I’ll tell them, Captain.”
I watch him walk away. Again, I wonder if today will be the day that he challenges me for the captainship. It’s only a matter of time. Ezra always told me that the best kind of partnership between a captain and a quartermaster is a slightly contentious one. The quartermaster looks after the crew’s interest, while the captain is the one who keeps their eye on the prize and guides both crew and ship. It’s natural that there would be conflict from time to time, but things with Miles are constantly fraught. I’m becoming increasingly certain that if he challenges me for the vote, I’ll lose. And then I don’t know what I’ll do.
I don’t know who I am if I’m not captain of the Crimson Hag.
“So that’s our port.”
I don’t jump out of my skin, but it’s a near thing. I didn’t hear Evelyn approach. Now she’s standing at my side as if she’s been there all along. She’s changed back into the clothes she was wearing when we pulled her out of the sea, but she must’ve done something to magic them, because the rain doesn’t seem to touch the fabric. Or her hair, for that matter.
I step back and look at her properly. There’s a fine bubble around her that the rain slides off. “Neat trick.”
“Work smarter, not harder.” She’s still eyeing the small, sleepy town with far too much interest. She’s going to run. It’s nothing more than I expected, but I can’t help the frustration that blooms in response to the realization.
I don’t have time to be chasing down a wayward witch who breaks vows as easily as she makes them. “Do I have to lock you in my cabin for the duration of our stay here?”
Her brows wing up. “There you go again, flirting with me.”
I hate myself a little bit for blushing in response. Hopefully she can’t see it in the low light and stormy weather. “I’m not flirting with you.” I might have been thinking about kissing her after dinner in my cabin, but I wasn’t flirting.
“Are you sure? Because threatening to lock me up in your cabin sounds particularly flirty.” She shifts closer until she’s nearly pressed against me. “If you had me in your cabin all to yourself, what would you do with me?”
Everything.
I barely manage to keep the instinctive, unforgivable answer inside. She’s trying to provoke me, to make me uncomfortable enough that I won’t pay attention to what she’s up to. I may be interested in her, but I know better than to let it color my interactions with her. At least I hope I do. I’ve never felt so completely foolish around a potential paramour.
What am I thinking? Potential paramour? This woman is a godsdamned menace. She is fair of face and lush of body, but she’s already proven to be a ball of chaotic energy. Besides, I’m the captain. No matter that I would never abuse my power, there is a power imbalance between me and the rest of my crew. I have to keep my interest locked down.
I belatedly realize that I’m staring at her in awkward silence. Usually I’m not so damn awkward; she seems to bring out this side of me in particular. It’s irritating. “Go back to your cabin, Evelyn. You can go ashore with the rest of them at first light.” It won’t be first light. Everyone will sleep in, courtesy of a long night and the fact that most shops won’t open until well past dawn.
She gives me a long look and smiles sweetly. It’s a liar’s smile. This woman doesn’t like me, and she doesn’t want to be here. It’s mildly insulting that she thinks I would believe her to be docile after only a few hours. “Yes, Captain.” She salutes in a charmingly irreverent way and turns with a click of her heels.
I can’t help watching her big ass in those tight pants as she walks away. I have no doubt that the extra swing in her step is because she knows I’m watching. The little witch. It’s only when she disappears back belowdecks that I think to check whether she lifted something else off me.
Sure enough, I’m missing the ring from my thumb on my right hand. How did she manage that? She never got close enough to touch me properly. It’s wildly unfair that she’s slipping things from my body and I don’t get the benefit of feeling her touch.