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“Forgive me. It’s just that, it had occurred to me, that you could easily serve Hond Steading’s bid for freedom by enlisting yourself in their watch. Bringing your expertise to their planning.”

She pulled the spoon back and slumped over her meal, poking at it. “Forgive me, if I’ve lost a great deal of faith in the systems of the watch. Now. Will you help me find Nouli? Are we committed to this plan together?”

A sly grin overrode the consternation that’d been building on his features, and he glanced pointedly at the prison walls. “I think we had better be.”

She choked on a laugh. “In that case…” She told him about the strangeness she’d seen around the compound, the way Misol had stepped out of the empty sky alongside the tree. He listened, nodding slowly, polishing off the last of his food as she spoke.

“We’ll have to get a closer look at that building,” he said. “I accepted the work detail I thought would be most appealing to Nouli, maintaining the water systems. The infrastructure is shockingly well cared for. I suspect he must have had a hand in its maintenance, and yet I haven’t seen a sign of him. When I asked the other lads if they’d heard of a man too smart for his own good being brought in, a man with a mind for machines who didn’t look like he belonged here, they all get tight-lipped. Like it’s a ghost we’re talking about and if anyone says his name he’ll come screaming out of the dark.”

“So they know something.”

“But they’re not telling me. And it may be a good while yet before I have their trust enough to get them to talk. Men like these, they don’t play loose with information. Even if it’s just what color the sky was that morning, they’ll clam up and tell you they don’t know – ain’t never seen no sky, nor no colors.” He finished with a drawling flourish, and she had to stuff bread in her mouth to stifle her chuckle.

Despite Clink’s objection to the grains, Ripka found she had no trouble at all devouring the bread. Whole loaves like this were a rarity in the inland cities of the Scorched. And, she felt a little more personal about it now. Like she’d earned it.

“We don’t have time for them to loosen up. Detan and Tibs said they’d come for us before the monsoon season starts up, after that no one sails for the Remnant for months.”

“So we’d better work quick.”

Ripka watched him trace his finger over the plate’s edge in thought, round and round. A kernel of an idea solidified. “You still got your waterworks patch?”

He turned so she could see the pipe and wrench motif whip-stitched to his sleeve. “I suspected that, although my initial inquiries were fruitless, it would be a good idea to keep it up for a while. I can’t imagine Nouli taking an interest in any of the other work details.”

“Farming could use an efficient touch,” she muttered, then snatched up his plate.

“Pardon, captain, but what are you doing?”

She reached across the table and gathered up a few half-chewed crusts left by other inmates, a couple of soggy fruit cores, and any other food detritus she could get her hands on, piling them on both of their plates.

“Help me get these loaded,” she said. “I have an idea.”

For the first time since their arrival, she saw Enard grin.

“Happy to be of service, captain.”

I’m sure you are, she thought, then pushed the bitterness aside. They had work yet to do. Together.

Chapter Eleven

A donkey stood braying on the deck of the Larkspur, and if it shat itself before they’d gotten it off the ship Pelkaia was going to toss whoever caused the delay over the rail. Even if it was Coss. Maybe especially if it was Coss.

“I don’t see why it has to be just the two of us,” he said.

“Because eventually it will be the four of us, and that’s a large enough party to raise a few eyebrows.”

She tugged a waxed tarp taut across the empty bed of the two-wheeled cart hitched to the donkey. On the other side of the cart, Laella fussed with one of the thin ropes meant to hold that side of the tarp in place. Pelkaia bit her tongue as Laella’s delicate fingers fumbled through the simple loops of a slip knot. The only way that pampered young woman would learn any practical skills at all was by figuring them out for herself.

“The weapons will be heavy,” Coss insisted.

“That’s what the donkey’s for.”

“Essi could obscure our escape.”

“And risk revealing us all as deviants.”

“Oi.” Essi stomped her small bare foot and waved a hand in the air. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. And, cap’n, I just got back from saving Honding and Tibs’s butts. Used my power, and no one noticed. Well, I’m sure they did, but who cares? I could help.”

“You’re not coming with us.”

“But I just–”

“And you shouldn’t have. Stars above.” Pelkaia tipped her head back to glare at the clouds building in the sky. “Am I not the captain of this ship? Aren’t my orders law on these decks?”

“Well, sure, but we’ll be leaving the deck. And I’m real good with donkeys.”

“I’m better with ’em,” Jeffin said. “My parents had a whole mess of ’em when I was growing up. Let me lead the cart, I practically speak donkey.”

Essi smirked. “Explains your ears.”

Embarrassment rashed Jeffin’s cheeks and his shoulders hunched forward. Laella stifled a chuckle behind an upraised palm, fudging her knots in the process. Jeffin erupted in spluttering insults, setting off a chain reaction of chatter from Essi and Laella.

Pelkaia slammed her fists against the cart’s rail, frightening everyone into silence. The donkey brayed.

“That’s enough. I didn’t pull you all out of death’s reach so you could bicker like children on my ship, understand? I command the Mirror, and that means its crew too. Unless any of you would like to disembark and make a fresh start in Petrastad?”

Silence met her hard glare. Essi fidgeted with the ragged ends of her sleeves while Jeffin and Laella stared at the deck boards, shame-faced. Without a word, Coss handed her one of the two crossbows still in working order. She jammed it under the tarp. Laella scrambled to finish her knots while Pelkaia slung the donkey’s leads down from around its harness, giving the poor creature a stiff jerk. It snorted, but followed her to the gangplank all the same. At least the donkey was obedient.

Laella scurried a few steps after them. “I’ll relieve Jeffin on the mirrors while you’re gone.”

Pelkaia eyed the half-flopping knot Laella had tied on the tarp, and shook her head. “No. Don’t care how good you are with sel, girl, you’re still too Valathean. Jeffin will keep the mirrors up.”

Laella’s mouth dropped open. “But earlier Jeffin said you said–”

“I. Said. No.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, but she held her palms up toward the sky and bowed over them stiffly, the most formal of Valathean agreements, then turned tight on her heel and strode back toward the cabins. Pelkaia sighed. She never should have picked up a daughter of wealth and privilege. Laella was far too soft for the work they needed to do.

“Jeffin,” she said, and he snapped a salute so quick he nearly took off an eyebrow. “I know it’s been a long day, and you’re tired, but hold those mirrors out a little longer. And if Detan Honding comes anywhere near my ship while I’m gone, you’ve my permission to hang him from the mast by his balls.”

“Yes, captain.”

“And you.” She pointed a finger at Essi, who stood stalk straight at the attention. “You keep both those feet on this ship, understand?”