“One of these days, I’ll get him to admit it, Captain.”
“What’s his deal?” Dimella asks from where she sits next to me.
“With me? “Enwen asks. “I’m not sure. But in general? There’s definitely something he’s hiding. A trauma, most likely. And the only way to deal with trauma is to address it. Over and over again until it doesn’t hurt you anymore.”
“How would you know about trauma?” My question exactly.
“Everyone assumes I’ve led such a happy life because I’m such a happy bloke. Do you think I’m a good thief because I had all this free time on my hands? No, I had a keeper on the streets, and if I didn’t bring him enough valuables to satisfy his greed, I didn’t get a proper place to sleep or food in my belly. Nor did I get to keep my skin free of his beatings. My friends who weren’t as good at thieving didn’t make it.”
“I hope you killed the bastard,” Dimella says.
“As soon as I was big enough to take him on.”
“Good.”
“Point is, I don’t let my humble beginnings get to me. Neither should Kearan.”
“Not all traumas are created equal,” I say.
“Of course not, but that doesn’t mean anyone should have to continue to be hurt by them.”
I finish my drink before also switching tables.
Chapter 7
IT TAKES US FIVE weeks to reach the Seventeen Isles, and when I catch sight of Darmont, my mood picks up considerably. After this, things are going to get dangerous. After this, I might get to do some killing.
We sail within a quarter league of land before dropping anchor. Then the little lass is lowered in a rowboat.
Roslyn looks up at me with worry. “What if my rowboat capsizes before I make it to shore?”
“Then you’ll have to swim it,” I say. “Good thing your papa taught you how.”
“What if some unfavorable folk grab me once I make it to shore?” She’s overdoing her tone immensely. She’ll have to work on her acting if she expects anyone to believe her.
“Alosa’s contact is already on the dock waiting for you. She has her spyglass on you now. I can see her from here.”
Roslyn growls. “Sorinda, I need this! I’m so close to getting you a juicy secret. Please, you can’t—”
An explosion sounds in the distance, and I turn my gaze toward the shore, where several buildings are now going up in flames.
“Spyglass!” I shout, and Dimella places one in my hands immediately.
The dock is pandemonium: people running to carry water toward the fire, others simply trying to get out of range of the danger. I see the land king’s soldiers fighting against a group of heavily armed men. I don’t recognize them, and last I heard, the land king wasn’t dealing with any sort of rebellion.
Catching movement on a nearby rooftop, I center the spyglass there. Women crouch on the tops of buildings, observing the damage and watching the fight take place below. I recognize one figure.
Niridia.
Those men fighting against the land king’s must be Draxen’s. Alosa said she’d sent Niridia and Mandsy after him. Their travels must have taken them here. But did they cause the explosion, or did Draxen?
“What is it?” Dimella asks.
“Fire and chaos,” I answer. “The docks aren’t safe for Roslyn.”
“Do we wait? Do we engage? See if we can help?”
This feels like the first big and important decision I have to make as captain. Alosa gave me orders. Find her missing vessel. Drop Roslyn off at Darmont on the way.
I can’t do them both. We haven’t time to communicate with Alosa and explain the situation. Her contact can’t safely get to Roslyn. In fact, I can’t even see the pirate any longer. She must have gone to help.
“Pull her back up,” I say.
The lads haul the rowboat back onto the ship.
“We keep going,” I say, returning the spyglass to Dimella. “The queen’s forces are already on the island seeing to the situation. No one is free to take her.” I turn my gaze to Roslyn, who clambers out of the rowboat as though the boards might burn her. “Your fate now lies with us,” I tell her. “You better hope you last the voyage or your father and Alosa will both have my head.”
I OFTEN HAVE TROUBLE sleeping. Nightmares plague my dreams most nights, and I’m easily woken by the quiet creaking of the ship or even a change in temperature or lighting. I always have a weapon on me or beside me.
Tonight it’s worry that keeps me awake.
What if I made the wrong decision? What if Mandsy and Niridia needed help? What if I’ve doomed Roslyn to death?
I try to reassure myself that I made the best decision with what information I had. I’ve already written to Alosa to explain the situation. All I can do is wait for her response, but it hardly matters.
The decision has been made. There’s no turning back now.
The bed is too soft as I roll over, trying to find a comfortable position. I hear the doorknob to my room rattle, and I go to the door before asking who it is.
“Roslyn.”
I let her in, and she throws herself into my arms.
“I’m sorry, Sorinda. I didn’t mean to be so difficult. Do you think my bad actions caused this?”
“Caused what?”
“The fire? The explosion? Enwen says that bad things follow bad intentions, and I—”
“Don’t listen to anything Enwen says, you hear me? You made a poor decision, but you didn’t cause that fire or explosion. It was a squabble between Draxen and the land king. Nothing more. It was poor timing.”
“Do you think Papa will die of worry before I can return to him? Do you think we could send a bird?”
I point to the bed behind me. “Climb in.”
She does so, and I tuck her in. “Everything will be all right. You get some sleep. I’ll let you know what Alosa says when I hear back from her. For now, I’m going to keep watch. Make sure no one followed us from the island.”
“Isn’t that my job?” she asks as she rubs her eyes, hiding tears she doesn’t want me to see.
“You’re relieved of your duties for the evening. Now sleep.”
ANOTHER LETTER COMES two weeks later:
Damn Draxen. Damn him to hell. Apparently he went after one of the land king’s banks. Naturally, Ladell is going to think it was me until Mandsy and Niridia can prove otherwise. Riden is torn between wanting to help the girls and worrying his presence will only make things worse. But don’t you worry about that.
You did the right thing. Those missing girls are top priority. Roslyn has no choice but to go with you now. I trust you’ll keep her safe. Now I’ve got to tell Wallov. Let’s hope he doesn’t have a heart attack.
—Alosa
We’re into uncharted waters now, viewing an ocean that few have traveled before. Enwen clutches a string of pearls within his fist at all times. I’ve known him long enough to recall he thinks it wards off evil. Kearan has grown more alert, his eyes not only checking the sea in front of us as we sail but also the south and west, as though he anticipates something coming upon us without the lookouts noticing.
A rock extends out of the water to our right, and a colony of seals have climbed upon it, sleeping in the early morning. Dimella lets Roslyn borrow her spyglass so she can watch them better. We dare not get too close in case other such rocks are near the surface.