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Vengeance of the Pirate Queen(53)

Author:Tricia Levenseller

“I really want my papa,” Roslyn says.

“Of course you do,” I say.

“But he was so overbearing, Sorinda. I thought I would want a break from him for years and years after the way he treated me. But I don’t. I wish I could see him this very moment.”

I squeeze her hand. “You will see him again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Do you think he will be immediately cross with me? Or do you suppose he’d let me hug him first?”

Kearan takes her free hand, shifting the load he carries to his other arm. “He’ll be so happy to see you, he’ll forget there was ever a reason to be cross.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It’s what I would do if I were missing a daughter.”

“His happiness over seeing me returned won’t last forever. He’ll do something afterward.”

“Probably skin your hide,” I offer.

Roslyn shrugs at that. “It was worth it.”

“What was?”

“This adventure. It’s worth whatever punishment Papa has for me.”

“This was an adventure I could have—” I cut myself off. I was going to add done without, but I realize that’s not true. How can it be? When this journey gave me hope for my own future and clarity on the past. When this journey drew me closer to a man I otherwise would have been able to ignore.

“You’ll have to work hard to earn back his trust, though,” I say instead.

“Probably, but at least I won’t have to listen to him forever!”

“What do you mean by that?” Kearan asks.

“Alosa says I’ll be old enough to fight with her crews when I’m thirteen.”

“Yes, I’m sure your papa will let up then,” Kearan says sarcastically.

Roslyn doesn’t seem to notice.

THE DRIFTA’S VESSEL IS easier to find than I anticipated. The natives dock her not far from where we sank, between a jutting cliff side and an iceberg bigger than any building built by Islanders. From the inside of the island, looking outward, it’s not hard to see how we missed her.

Thick ice has formed between the cliff and the iceberg, creating a ceiling over the docked ship. The sea must have shown the reflection of the ice, making the structure look solid. But from land, looking outward, I can see the stern peeking out from the ice tunnel.

I can also see the Drifta on watch. They stand atop towers hidden in the ice surrounding the island, always watching for approaching vessels so they know to attack. Dozens upon dozens of them up there with spyglasses. They’ll have hours’ notice before any ships arrive. Plenty of time to assemble a crew to attack.

Let’s see how many they leave on board when they’re not expecting a skirmish.

From the tree line looking to the sea, it’s a several-hundred-yard dash. There’s no cover. No way to mask almost forty people approaching. The ship ahead is mostly in shadow. Impossible to tell who might be looking this way.

“What are you thinking?” Dimella asks me.

“I don’t want to run for it. If they’re alerted to our presence, they could shoot us down before we ever reach the sea. There’s no cover on the shoreline. We need to get someone aboard that galleon to cause a distraction.”

Dimella sizes up the distance and looks to the surrounding lookout towers. “That’s not going to be easy. Even if we could camouflage someone sufficiently, those lookouts will surely notice the movement against this flat expanse of white.”

“I’d try it, Captain,” Roslyn offers. “I can be stealthy, just like you taught me.”

“I know you can,” I say to her, “but this is different.”

“We could wait for the cover of nightfall,” Kearan suggests.

“We don’t have the time,” I say. “Even now, Threydan is on his way. We need to be long gone.”

“I thought you said he gave you three days to decide,” Roslyn says.

“That was before I made plans to leave the island.” A pause. “Roslyn, lesson number three of being an assassin is always assume everyone is lying.”

“What if someone caused a distraction inland?” Visylla asks. “We could draw them away from the ship.”

“We’ve already done that once,” I say. “They won’t fall for the same trick twice.”

Everyone falls silent, and no more ideas are forthcoming. I simply stare out at the ocean, watching those ice-cold waves crash onto the shore.

Cold to everyone except me.

I wince as I remember my time alone on the ocean floor. It was horrifying, something I never want to experience again. But I know what I must do if I’m to save everyone.

“I need to go around,” I say.

“Around what?” Kearan asks.

I point to the west. “The tree line meets up with the ocean over there. I could slip into the water, swim to the ship, then board her.”

No one says anything for a moment.

“How would you manage that without dying?” Shura asks, speaking up for the first time.

“Cold doesn’t affect the captain anymore,” Enwen says. “She’s half undead. ’Twas an unfortunate accident.”

“What?” Captain Warran bellows.

Kearan silences him with another look.

To Dimella, I say, “I know you don’t like me going off alone, but this might be our only chance off the island.”

She nods. “I think you have the right of it. We can’t risk waiting for nightfall with everything that’s hunting us.”

“We don’t have time for me to silently kill the whole crew,” I say, more to myself than everyone else. “I’ll be the distraction so you can approach the ship. When you hear them sound the alarm, you’ll know they’re sufficiently occupied and it’s safe to board.”

“Just don’t get yourself killed.”

“I’ll do my best.” I point over my shoulder. “Fill in the crew of the Wanderer on everything that’s happened. They need to be prepared for the worst.”

“Aye-aye,” she says.

“I’ll walk you to the beach,” Kearan says.

I don’t argue with him. I leave Roslyn in Enwen’s care before following the edge of the tree line toward my destination. Kearan is silent at my side, matching my strides.

“He knows what we’re planning,” I say. “I saw one of the undead at the camp. It overheard my orders to the crew. He’s definitely coming.”

“He won’t catch up,” Kearan reassures me. “We’ll be on that ship sailing away before he gets here.”

“He will catch up eventually. Even if we get away today, even if this is the only ship on this island—which I doubt it is—then he will swim after us. He doesn’t need food. I don’t even know if he needs rest. Nothing can harm him. It may take months or years, but he’ll make the swim to the Seventeen Isles.”

“By then, Alosa can be prepared to handle him. She’ll have her mother and the charm ready. He won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”

“If he gets me—”

“He won’t.”

“If he gets me, do I have your word that you will help Dimella get everyone safely home and warn Alosa?”

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