Evelyn brushes at her clothing in a way that is obviously designed to distract. “I’ve never been a pirate before. Where are we headed, Captain? Off to steal some rich merchant’s booty?”
“I thank you never to use the word ‘booty’ in my presence again.” I motion for her to precede me. “We’re hunting a sea monster. It’s been terrorizing one of our local villages, so it’s our job to remove the threat.”
“Wow. So you actually do things beyond kidnap helpless civilians? How noble.”
“Yes, we actually do more than that.” I hold the door open for her and follow her back into the sunlight. It’s impossible to avoid noticing how it caresses her light hair almost lovingly. As if her energy draws the sunbeams more than anyone else on the deck.
“Kit!”
“Up here, Captain.” Kit descends one of the ropes so quickly that I wince in sympathy. Ne lands on the deck with a boom that sounds like a cannon going off, and strides toward us. Kit is a tall person with warm dark brown skin and the kind of shoulders that could hold up a mast in a hurricane. Ne is also one of the few crew members who Miles can’t sway. I trust nem to get Evelyn settled in without causing an incident.
Kit eyes Evelyn. “Not a mermaid, after all.”
“She’s a new member of our crew. See her outfitted and give her a bunk.” I barely resist the urge to tell nem to keep a close eye on her. It’s unnecessary. Kit can take care of this without letting Evelyn’s cunning words sway nem to some kind of foolish action. If Miles hasn’t managed to do that after months of campaigning, Evelyn won’t in a few short hours.
“Sure thing, Captain.”
“You.” I give Evelyn a long look. “Don’t give nem any trouble.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Kit makes an obvious attempt to hide nir smile. “This way, miss.”
“No need to stand on formality. Call me Evelyn.” She smiles up at nem, every inch a charming beauty.
It’s only as they walk away that I realize I’m missing something. I touch my empty sheath and where my dagger was just a few moments ago. Irritation flares. How the fuck did she pickpocket me again? I wasn’t even close to her this time. It shouldn’t have been possible. She didn’t do magic. I’m certain of that, at least.
I’m going to have to keep an eye on her. A close one. That thought should fill me with dread, but for the first time in years, a slow curl of anticipation goes through me. This woman is nothing like the rest of my crew, or the other people I’ve encountered in Threshold. It feels like the winds have shifted, but I don’t know yet if it means a blessed trip—or if there’s a hurricane bearing down on us.
I turn for the helm and nearly run into Miles. He doesn’t look any happier than he did earlier. His irritation is there in the way his skin has shifted to a dull orange and his tongue flicks out at regular intervals. He looks over to where Kit leads Evelyn down to the crew quarters. “This is a mistake. The rest of the crew thinks so, too.”
“They would after you’ve been dripping poison into their ears about her.” I can’t quite keep my anger from my voice. “You had no right to try to kill her before we gave her the choice.”
Miles turns his inky eyes on me. “There’s a reason most witches don’t survive in Threshold for long. Kill her now, kill her later, but she won’t last and you damn well know it.”
As with any group of varied peoples, the C?n Annwn has factions. I don’t like thinking about it. We’re supposed to be a unified group. It should be cut-and-dried—the laws exist, we follow them, end of story. Unfortunately, not everyone feels that way, and they don’t treat all trespassers equally.
They don’t treat the locals equally, either.
I brush that thought off. This is different. Some of our people consider witches to be monsters. Which means they don’t give witches the choice I just gave Evelyn. They kill them on sight.
I hold Miles’s gaze steadily. “She took the vow. She’s part of the crew. A strike against her is a strike against me and the rest of the C?n Annwn. I trust you’ll keep that in mind.”
“No need to threaten me.” He holds up his hands, but he’s got a glint in his eye I don’t like. She’s part of the crew as long as I’m captain, but should that change, her protections disappear the moment he takes the position. The Council might rule the C?n Annwn, but each individual ship is governed by its captain, and some play faster and looser with the rules than others.
“It’s not a threat. It’s a reminder. Call for a vote if you want, but until you do, I am captain of this ship, and you will obey me.”
“Yes, you’re captain … for now.”
There’s nothing else to say to that. I move past him to where Dia stands at the helm. She’s a wizened old crone, but she’s half fae, so gods alone know how old she actually is. For all that her medium-brown face is lined with wrinkles and her hair is white peppered with black instead of the other way around, she’s spry on her feet and has the sharpest mind I’ve ever encountered. “Captain.”
“Dia. How are we looking?” We haven’t been moving as quickly as I’d like; the winds seeming to work against us from the moment we got our orders about this particular sea monster. We don’t have many details beyond the fact that it’s killed several people in the village on Sarvi. But most of our orders come in like that—there are deaths and we’re sent to investigate and remove whatever monster is responsible.
Dia’s brown eyes glaze over into milky white. Her magic is one of the strangest—and most useful—I’ve ever encountered. She’s a weather mage who, by some twist of family lineage, rather than being able to control the weather, has precognition linked specifically with weather patterns. We’re almost never caught unawares in a storm because she’s on board.
She finally shakes her head and her eyes clear. “We have a problem. That little squall we intended to use to speed our way along has developed into a ship killer. We can skirt the edges of it, but it will take us significantly off course and add nearly a week to the journey.” She taps one wizened finger against the helm. I let her think. I know this part of Threshold as well as she does, but I’ve long since learned that the best way to manage the strong personalities in my crew is to let them have their say. Especially when I’m in agreement. “If we cut to the west, we can make port in Yaltia just as it hits. Rough ride, but nothing we can’t handle. Storm should be through in the next day. That way we only lose two days instead of seven.”
It’s no competition. I glance at Miles. For once, he doesn’t seem inclined to argue for the sake of asserting his own dominance. He shrugs. “Sounds like a plan.”
I hate that it feels like he’s giving me permission instead of the other way around. “You know what to do.”
He nods and starts barking orders, and the crew shifts like a well-oiled machine to meet the new demands.
There’s the added bonus of Yaltia being close enough to the attacks that they might have more updated news about what kind of situation we’re headed into with this particular monster. My crew is experienced and good at what they do, but every bit of information we can gather ahead of time is worth its weight in gold.