“There’s a reason ships have bells. Maybe you should listen.”
“I said dismissed.”
“No.”
He growled, but I did not move.
“No, I will not be dismissed. You told me to chart my own course, and I know this is how I will serve the Ship of Spells.”
I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he turned now and leaned against the desk, cupping the wine in his hands. He glared at me now, and I could see the runes spinning as he thought. Gauging the winds and adjusting course.
“You gave me three chances,” I said. “And I took each one, so you have no one to blame but yourself. Hels, Kit said you commissioned the naval blue the moment you drew me from the waters. You knew you needed a rudder, and I’m vain enough to think that was me. And whether you admit it or not, I’m here to keep you steady, the weight at your keel. It’s why you wanted me to stay Navy.”
Strands of dark hair had fallen into my eyes, but I stared at him through it as if it were bars on a cell.
“It’s true. Wearein dangerous waters, between the ironmages and the sea, but if you’re willing, I will be your kedge. Not your compass, because Forge knows, I spin too wylde on my own, but we’re runechasers both. I have to believe that theTouchstonechose me for more than my chimeric. I have to believe I have a place on this ship.”
Suns, where did all these words come from?
But I wasn’t afraid anymore. I wasn’t afraid. I clasped my hands behind my back.
“I am charting my own course, and it leads me square in front of you.”
I was stubborn, and I was skilled. I wasn’t going anywhere, and he knew it.
He hadn’t looked away. Forge, I didn’t know if he had even blinked.
“I will not change course,” he said in a low voice.
“When you’re heading into reefs and contrary winds, it’s sometimes wise to trim sail.”
He swirled the wine, gaze still locked. The cabin filled with a heady aroma of fruit and oak, sweet and dark, and I felt him lean toward me, just a breath. The ship pitched hard, rocking us closer.
“Why are you taking us straight into the Sheets?” I asked.
“I have no choice,” he murmured. “Mr. Worley knew our course. I did not hide it from him because I did not know, could notfathom, that he was the soul.”
He tossed back his wine.
“We are followed.”
My stomach dropped. “TheTemplemore?”
“Even still.” He turned to the window, his hand brushing the transom. “The king has demanded we turn you over, but I have refused, and so now we are marked. There are six ships hunting us. We cannot fight all six, and we have no time to losethem playing cat-a-mouse along the Sheets. She will never stop hunting you, for you are proof a homani can wield chimeric.”
“And turn the tide of war,” I murmured, echoing his words from those very first days. I set my jaw. “You should have turned me over.”
“I would not,” he said. “I will not.”
That hidden, secret heart of his, yearning to be found.
“You see, you have refused to let me sink her...”
Oh, fog.
“And now we are caught between a school of hungry sharks and a very distant, dangerous shore.”
Oh, fog. He was right.
