“Fahr said you lived in a palace?”
“Of course he’d say that.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Don’t trust everything that young salt says. He can spin a tale the way you spin chimeric.”
I realized it was all a game with them. Didn’t matter. I played,too. I made my own rules.
“But yes, my father worked for the king,” he said. “So, I spent most of my youth in the palace.”
“That’s where you got your silver tongue,” I said.
“Where do you think the tongue gets the silver?” He waggled his brows. “From a silver spoon, of course.”
He blew a few more good puffs from the pipe.
“But, as delightful as this has been, what I brought you up here to say is this—theTouchstoneis a dangerous post. Don’t let your guard down, and don’t be fooled by the camaraderie aboard. We’re one swift away from treason, one ship a-lee from outright war. Cross-tides to everything, and that makes sailing rough.”
I let his words settle on the night wind, a shiver racing along my skin.
“I still don’t understand what I’ve agreed to,” I said. “But I know I want to find out.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “Just remember that, for all his plans and schemes, Thanavar is a man running out of time. That makes him desperate, and desperate men make mistakes.”
How quickly this night had turned.
“Stay cold. Stay detached. It’s the only way to survive in Thanavar’s game.”
“I guess that’s why I’m Navy,” I said.
“Not anymore.” He tugged his earring. “You’re a privateer on the notorious Ship of Spells.”
He crossed the quarterdeck, slapped his hand on the rail.
“Ain’t that right, ol’ girl? You know it’s true.”
I waited for the thunder of canvas or the hiss of the line. Nothing.
He tapped his pipe over the side.
“Well, time to whup me a faun and win his rum,” he said. “G’night, Thom. G’night, Blue. Dream sweet.”
“When the moons meet, sir,” said Thom.
“When the moons meet,” said I.
And with that, he turned and disappeared down the ladder.
I sighed and leaned over the rail, but on my elbows, just in case.
The only way to survive in Thanavar’s game…
I breathed in the salt air, trying to still the racing of my heart. I felt the sea spray on my cheeks, blessed the rock and sway of the deck under my boots. The sea was mother to us all, fair and relentless and demanding and hard. We served her, or we died out here where there was only water and sky in equal measure.
Whatdidit mean to serve the Ship of Spells?
I looked up. At least the hanged harpy was gone, and the night was clear with the Sister Moons shining like jewels. Luna was the largest tonight, with Lyrik waning and Lore slivered. They roamed the skies above the equatorus, calling the Dreadwall each night, giving it over to Forge and Ember during the day.
I had to admit that, sometimes, I felt their call.
Forge was nothing, just a big, yellow sun. Most homani worshipped him, building churches, temples, and entire societies in his name. Modest Ember was left to the fauns and minotaurs, harpiar, cyclopes, and other less pretentious races of Oversea. The Sister Moons, however, were left to the witches. The witches, the mages, and theRhi’Ahrbeneath us. As for me, I refused to bend my knee to any of them, and yet, here I was on a living ship under aRhi’Ahrcaptain with a ring in my ear. The Navy and all its venerable rules and orderly ways seemed far, far behind.
