Sara looked at Prin, then settled back. “I’m going to let the two of you figure this out. That’s part of the purpose of this voyage, isn’t it?”
“You see an answer?” Brice demanded.
Sara remained quiet. Prin said, “Okay, let’s look at this situation as a puzzle, Brice. He recognized me. It’s also several more days until we dock, and after all the passenger murders and disappearances so far, the crew or passengers won’t tolerate one more. Oh, he could do it, but there would be major objections he will wish to avoid.”
Brice said, “He’ll wait until just before we dock. There’s no way off the ship, so he doesn’t have to hurry.”
Sara said, “Besides, to me, he looked like a house cat toying with you. He knows he can pounce at any time. After all these years, he’s going to enjoy himself by taunting you before he acts.”
“Taunting me, how?”
“Oh, I don’t know, but he is still young, not much older than you. He might light up the sky with streaks of light just to impress you, or maybe he’ll strike up a conversation and hint at what he knows, but never make direct accusations. I can see him sending a bottle of wine to our table, or smiling innocently when he sees you. Typical boyish stuff, but from a dangerous adversary.”
“You really have a low opinion of men,” Brice said.
“No, I am forthright in my observations, especially when it comes to young men, such as yourself,” Sara said in the tone she liked to use when arguing, especially with Prin or Brice, both of whom she considered siblings. “I see you suck in your belly and puff out your chest when a pretty girl is nearby, although with the ageing-spell you’re wearing, it looks more silly than normal.”
“A sixty-year-old man can have feelings too,” he shot back.
That broke the tension, and all three fell into a fit of laughter, but it didn’t last long as the reality of the situation reinserted itself. One by one, they returned to the problem Prin faced and sorted out options. There were not many with good outcomes.
Sara said, “He thinks he has identified you, but other than a look exchanged between you, he cannot be absolutely certain.”
“He’s sure,” Prin said.
“No,” Sara countered, “He is not! No words were exchanged, nothing but a distressed passenger who looked his way at the wrong time. He does not know.”
“Meaning?” Brice asked.
Sara smiled, “Meaning that since he is not certain, he must confirm his suspicions. He has no other choice. Imagine if he is wrong but acts on what he thinks and kills an innocent woman. He can’t make that mistake.”
“How does that help us?” Prin asked.
“I don’t know, yet, but it gives us some time. Maybe we can make him second-guess himself? Be a little unsure?” Sara said as she closed her eyes and spoke in a voice that said her mind was thinking elsewhere and on other things.
Brice started to speak, but the frown on Prin’s face and a small shake of her head stilled him. Prin had seen Sara like this more than a few times. She had the ability to take a complex subject and break it down into piecemeal portions, extracting gems of information. That was the ability and help Prin would miss most when the ship sailed back from Indore with Sara aboard. But, for now, Prin waited silently.
Sara’s eyes opened. She smiled. “If you were not who he thinks, what would you be doing at this moment?”
Prin said, “Well, we’ve spent most of our time in the lounge eating, watching the seagulls out the window, and talking about other passengers behind their backs while we enjoyed each other, which is what we should be doing right now. You’re right. I’ll bet he’s up there watching our empty table and convincing himself we’re not sitting and enjoying ourselves because he found me out.”
“But if we are there, he might not be quite so sure,” Brice said.
Standing, Sara continued, “Our appearance at the table won’t convince him otherwise, but there will still be doubt. If we laugh and enjoy ourselves, it might add to his doubts. We will do it, and act normal.”
Prin liked the idea. Even a little doubt might keep him from proceeding until they devised a better plan. If the mage was completely convinced, he might strike at any time, the sooner, the better—for him. Not that buying a little time placed her in a much better position, but as all sailors say, any port in a storm.
Sara reached for the door handle and paused. “Listen, three dour stooges who used to laugh and joke are also going to help convince him. We need to act perky, as though nothing has happened, and we need to smile.”
Prin said, “Hey, I wouldn’t expect him to act for two or three more days. Probably four.”
As they were about to enter the dining room, Brice said, “Is there a spell that can help you swim to Indore?”
“From here?” Prin burst out laughing as the door was thrown open by a steward, who held it for them to enter. The laughter drew the attention of the entire room, with more than one nod of recognition that came with being a fellow passenger on a ship. They were on a boat together, a common enough saying, meaning that you know everyone by sight, even if you’ve never spoken to them. Like pickles in a jar, they’re in the same juice.
As they wound their way past a table with two handsome men of about forty, one stood and said, “I’m James, and this is Elder. Would you care to join us?”
“We would,” Sara said pleasantly, “but we have some family business to discuss right now. Perhaps after dinner?”
“That would be wonderful,” James said. Then in a softer voice, “Don’t go near any railings.”
The warning was more a small joke but told of the attitude on the ship. Everyone was worried. The three of them left the two men and found their way to their usual table. Prin’s eye couldn’t help but drift past the mage’s table, where he sat, but her gaze continued to move about the room taking in all the people. She hoped it looked as casual and confident as she intended. She would give him no more attention than others, but refusing to look at him was just as bad. A person trying to avoid eye contact is as telling as a stare.
Marcus was already at the table, two heaping plates of food in the center, and a goodly portion of what had been on them now occupied the plate in front of him. He half-stood to welcome them, a sign of good upbringing.
They had barely sat before he leaned forward and said, “Want to hear more rumors?”
“We do,” Sara smiled. “But first, can you catch the attention of a steward? I think we need at least two bottles of wine and something to eat. What is that on the plate?”
Prin allowed a smile of her own. The plate Sara had pointed at held a mound of fingerling fish, sun-dried, and fried in oil. They were heavily salted just before serving and crunched when eaten. The fish was a staple of seamen, packed tight in barrels and said to keep forever. Sara and Prin had eaten them at least once a day for the half-year they had sailed.
Marcus said, “Dried fish. They serve them, but passengers usually pass. Stick with the hard bread and cheese, if you ask me.”
Brice said, “Was there hard bread and cheese on that plate?”
“Only a little,” Marcus said meekly. “I’ll get them to bring more.”
He looked confused when they laughed at his response. Prin reached for a handful of the fish, a delicacy she decided to introduce to the royal palace. She ate a few and wanted wine. She licked the salt from her lips, and in doing so, caught the mage watching from his table-for-one.
Her eyes never focused on him, but she felt his eyes on her. Brice was sitting where he could look past Sara’s shoulder and see the mage. She asked softly, “What do you see?”