Tes’s fingers twitched, and she felt herself drifting forward to examine it closer when Lila grabbed her arm.
“This way,” said Katros, leading them out of the cabin, and down a flight of steps, into the maze that was the floating market. It reminded Tes of her father’s shop, the way there was always something to look at, and always the promise of more around the corner, or down the hall. Lila’s hand remained firmly on Tes’s sleeve as she steered her past curtains and ladders and doors until they reached the main deck, where another man, younger, leaner, but close enough in face he must have been related, stood over a table, inking a map with a minuscule brush, his white sleeves tied out of the way.
And there, sitting on a chair in the sun, a grey sack on the boards beside her, was Maris Patrol. The captain of the floating market.
She was reading a book, and at first, she didn’t look up.
Her skin was dark, and deeply wrinkled, her hair a shocking silver, but what struck Tes most was that the air around her was empty. No threads, bright or dim, no dancing lines of light. It seemed the captain of the Ferase Stras, home to so much power, had no magic of her own.
She looked old, very old, but not frail, and when she spoke, her voice rang like a bell.
“So few gentle days at sea,” she said, closing the book, “you learn to enjoy them when they come.”
Maris rose, and as she did, the grey pile on the deck twitched, and resolved itself into a large and ancient dog. Maris stared at Tes, and despite the fact she knew the woman had no magic, she couldn’t shake the sense that she was being read. Her eyes never left Tes, but when she spoke, it was to the Antari.
“That is not a persalis, Delilah Bard. That is, if I had to guess, a teenage girl.”
“No,” admitted Lila. “The persalis was, regrettably, destroyed. But I think you’ll find Tes is an … improvement.”
“Is that so?” asked the old woman.
Lila leaned in, and whispered something in the other captain’s ear. Her eyes sharpened. “I see.” There it was again, the hungry flash, as she realized she’d come into possession of something rare. “Perhaps we have a place for her.”
“I’m not a prize for your vault,” snapped Tes.
Maris gave her a long, appraising look. “What are you then?”
She straightened. “I’m a tinkerer.”
Maris raised a brow.
“I mean, I fix things,” explained Tes. “I make them better. And I’m good at it. And yes, I can see magic. And yes, I can change it. And yes, I know that is a strange and valuable gift, but it doesn’t make me a thing instead of a person. I’m not a piece of magic to be put away, and taken out, whenever you have use, and I’m not going to be put in a cage or buried in the bowels of the ship.”
It came spilling out, and left her breathless.
Maris crossed her arms. “Have you finished?”
Tes swallowed. And nodded. Maris smiled. “Good. Now, here is what I know. There is a great deal of magic on this ship. So much that sometimes, I cannot keep track of it all. There are things that have been aboard longer than I have—yes, it’s true—and others whose function I have never been able to discern. Now, it seems you have a talent, one that might make you useful, if you choose to be. And if you stay, as my apprentice, you will be free to use your gift, without being used for it, and maybe even learn a thing or two along the way.
“But,” said Maris, stepping closer. “I have never kept a living person on this ship against their will, and I certainly won’t be starting now. So if you do not wish to stay, then by all means, return to the Barron, and go back to being Lila’s problem. It’s your choice.”
The Antari scowled at that, and seemed about to speak, but Maris shot her a heavy look, and for once, she held her tongue while Tes stood on the deck, and looked around at the floating market, the light spilling through every curtain and doorway, the whole place rich with the promise of magic.
And so she made a choice.
* * *
Tes watched as the Barron drifted away from the Ferase Stras, and turned, setting a course she couldn’t follow. A hand came to rest on her shoulder, the fingers old, but strong. Tes glanced toward Maris.
“I heard your ship was supposed to be impenetrable,” she said.
“That’s right.”
“Then how were you robbed?”
Maris smiled thinly. “It seems my wards could use improving.”
Tes’s fingers twitched at the challenge, her eyes already tracing the lines of light that wove across the ship, her mind racing ahead to all the ways they could be fixed. “I can help with that.”