The crew did not need her now, and so she nodded to Coss. “Spending time with the Honding that bad?”
“Something like that,” Coss said and took off toward Pelkaia’s cabin.
She followed, checking on her ship with every step, but scarcely seeing a thing. What had gotten Coss so wound up? The man was a rock. Cheeky, sure, but stable in all weather. Seeing him tense as a harpoon spring made her heart ramp its pace.
In the privacy of her cabin, with the door shut and the thick black curtains drawn against the light, he dropped all pretense of affability. He would never question her in front of the crew – they’d agreed to that – but she’d given him permission to be open with her in private. From the way his expression darkened, she wished she’d rethought that plan. Criticisms were always worse from Coss. Due to his deviation, he was the only one in the whole of the world who could see her true face hidden beneath her selium mask.
“Why in the black skies didn’t you tell me Detan has access to a list of deviants?” he demanded.
“Captain’s decision,” she said, knowing as soon as the words left her lips that they were the wrong thing to say.
“Really? The fate of a whole fistful of deviants, and it’s just you who gets to decide? Thought we were all important on this ship. Thought we were partners.” He stepped forward as he said “we,” his body canting toward her, his tannic breath gusting against her cheek. She shifted backward, putting distance between them. Long ago, she’d decided neither one of them could afford to be distracted by the sly glances they stole at one another – nor by the comfort she took in knowing he was near.
“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. You’ve never worked with Honding before. He’ll play you, even as you’re playing him. Maybe there is a list, maybe there isn’t, but he wants something from me – from us – that I can’t see yet, and I’m not chasing his tail without a clearer picture of where we’re going.”
“So you are considering it.”
“I didn’t put down in Petrastad for the food. I docked us here to see what he does next, to see how desperate he is to get out to those isles.”
“What isles?” he asked, quick enough to make Pelkaia snort a laugh. Of course Detan wouldn’t have explained the dangerous aspects of his supposed plan.
“Didn’t he tell you the whole story while he turned you against me? I’m shocked he wasn’t more forthright. The woman with the whereabouts of that mythic list is a prisoner at the Remnant, as is her friend, and Detan expects me to swish on over there in the Mirror and pluck them out.”
Coss folded his arms over his ribs and slouched, wary. “What’d this woman do to get locked up in a place like that?”
“If Detan’s to be believed, she got caught stealing the list and hid it somewhere before being apprehended.”
“She a deviant?”
“Ripka Leshe, a deviant?” Pelkaia shook her head. “She’d knock you cold to hear you say it. That woman’s as banal as they come – and as straightlaced, too. That’s the only real believable part of Detan’s story. If Ripka was going to get herself locked up for anything, it’d be a good cause.”
“And you’re willing to let a woman like that rot?”
“Let? Clear skies, Coss, there’s little all I can do. This is the Remnant we’re talking about, the most secure prison in the whole Scorched. I wouldn’t know where to begin plucking her free, even if I wanted to. And regardless, it’s not me who got her locked up there.”
“Real nice.” He snorted. “So just because it’s not your fault means it’s not your problem?”
Her back stiffened and she picked her chin up. “What’s so wrong about that?”
“What’s good about it?” He threw his hands in the air, grasping as if he could wring an answer from the emptiness. “I thought we were trying to change things – thought this crew was meant for bigger things than snatching sands-cursed deviants away from death at the final moment.”
“And you think breaking someone out of the Remnant is worth risking this crew? You think trusting a thing Honding has to say is wise? Even if the list is real, there’s no telling what became of those on it. They could be captured already. We could be wasting a lot of time for nothing.”
“Regardless of the list, I think saving a good woman from a wretched end is worth it, yes. And I think the crew would agree with me. Pits below, maybe you should ask the crew what they want to do about it. For once, give them a say in matters. They aren’t children. Well, all except Essi anyway, and she’s no innocent. And if that list is real, then there’s a chance–”
“Stop.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “I agree with you, it’s just that…”
“Pell.” Coss settled a hand against her upper arm and the warmth of him spread through her sleeve. She pushed his hand away. “You’re afraid to risk the crew.”
“It’s not the crew I’m worried about. He’s stolen this ship once before. I wouldn’t put it past him to try again.”
Coss shoved his hands in his pockets. “Stole it because you tricked him into it, unless there’s a piece of that story you’re not sharing. There are sixteen of us, and one of him. Two if you count Tibal. I think we can do it. I think we should at least try.”
“We’re not ready for something like this. We’re not even properly armed if it comes to a fight.”
An impish grin curled its way over Coss’s lips and he cocked his head to the side. “This is Petrastad, captain. We’ll put a watch on Honding, see what he does, and if his story checks out – well then. There are weapons to be had aplenty in this salty hole, and a man with his particular talent is well suited for recovering them.”
Pelkaia picked her head up and met his eyes. A smile worked its way across her tired features. “You mean to rob the imperial weapons vault.”
“I do. And what better man for the job than Detan Honding?”
Chapter Six
The cell door slammed open, startling Ripka out of a fretful doze. She jerked upright and squinted against the sunlight’s intrusion, her eyes watering. A flat-faced guard loomed in her doorway, tapping his foot.
“Midday meal. Get up and get out, or don’t eat.”
Though her joints were stiff, she forced herself to straighten and hurry to the opened door – but not too fast. The last thing she needed was another bruise to nurse.
Apparently she hadn’t been alone in isolation throughout the morning meal. Her neighbors were being hauled out of their beds and shoved into an unsteady line along the balcony. Most sported hair mussed from too long abed and wrinkled jumpsuits. Newbies, all of them, their eyes wide and their postures uncertain and guarded.
Enard – or Tender, as that man called him – faced straight out to the rec yard below, dark eyes squinted against the sun’s glare. She endeavored to catch his eye, but he ignored her existence. Blasted man owed her an explanation for his familiarity with the Remnant’s rougher crowd, and she was determined to wring it from him as soon as she could.
The guards arrayed themselves at opposite ends of the balconies, with an additional guard in the center of each line. Ripka’s rude awakener was her row’s centerpoint, and she supposed his broad shoulders and twice-broken nose had something to do with that. Sticking the biggest, meanest-looking guard where everyone had an equal chance to get a good, long look at him was exactly what she’d do if she were in charge.
Her chest surged with a twang of regret. No one would ever let her run a single jail cell, let alone a whole prison, ever again.