“Good.”
“The sharks are out for blood, though. You’re brave to be swimming at this hour.”
“I think we both know that the only thing in this water to fear at this hour is you.”
That devious smirk returned to her somewhat gray lips.
“Is that why you’re heart’s pounding so fervently?”
“Perhaps? You’ll also find my cock equally enthusiastic.”
She moved in closer, her lips feathering across mine. “Miss me, did you?”
“Three days is quite enough,” I whispered.
“Then we should retreat to the beach. I have something to show you.”
“I don’t think that’s what it means,” Mullins said, pointing at the smudged map laid out on the table. The very map Dahlia had pulled from a leather map tube when we returned to our cabin. “I think it’s a skull. The kind of skull that says ‘come here at your own risk.’”
“It’s a moon,” Meridan argued, spinning the map upside down as if it would change the image we had all been trying to decipher for half an hour.
“It’s not a moon or a skull,” I groaned. “It’s a smear of ink that dripped on the parchment during its creation.”
“That happens to look like an omious skull?”
“Ominous,” Meridan corrected him.
“I think it is a drip of ink,” Dahlia said, squinting at the abstract blur.
I crossed my arms. “Thank you.”
“Either way, it doesn’t give us answers.”
“I think that there is a destination under that smudge.”
“When did you become so gullible?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Me? You’re the one who brought this back from a shipwreck.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think it was going to be so unclear.”
“And I’m not gullible. I’m curious. As are we all. Nazario has managed to recruit a dozen men for the Amanacer, our crew is fit for a long journey. Two ships, enough gold to buy a hundred.”
Meridan raised a brow. “Why do we need a hundred ships?”
“It’s an example. We don’t need a hundred ships. But we’ve hunted these waters enough. Trade routes are back in use. Fishing is back to being a lucrative business. This,” I pointed at the map, “Is the future of the Storm Weaver.”
“Treasure hunting?”
Mullins and I tossed each other a glance and grinned like two boys about to cause mischief.
“Treasure hunting,” we said in tandem.
“I don’t see the appeal,” Meridan sighed.
“You wouldn’t,” Mullins chuffed. “You’ve never needed gold to survive. Gold is good. Gold is what we all want. What makes the world go round.”
“Gold is a shiny metal that has no use. You cannot eat it. You can’t wear it. It’s too soft to turn into a weapon.”
