‘She can hold her own – don’t worry,’ I try to reassure them, despite my misgivings. Our plan made it difficult for Narra, Ligaya, and Morna to be linked to us, but everyone was at the mercy of the Bastion. I had to hope they would go unremarked as they kept to themselves.
‘So this is home now?’ Isagani asks, looking around with a lantern. They open a store cupboard, and the spiders scatter to the shadows, revealing a bed of thick mould.
‘This ship’s certainly seen some things,’ I say, jamming the cupboard door shut.
The wood’s splintered hard in places on the deck.
‘That taffrail was handmade by a Lassairian carpenter,’ Finlyr says when I complain. ‘And those cupboards just need a bit of a clean. At least we now have hearty supplies thanks to the Seaguardians.’
We’ve not much more space than in the rooms at the inn, and there was some heated debate around who would sleep where. Everythingrocking and roiling, my body is already restless. Biba seems not to mind; perhaps she finds the movement soothing.
‘Well, I’m the captain and this is my ship, so it’s only natural I should take the captain’s quarters,’ Finlyr insists. Isagani opens their mouth to protest. ‘Sorry, squirt, not sharing.’
‘Without me, you’d be dead,’ Isagani grumbles, face scrunched in frustration, but it’s like wading through mud with Finlyr. The man is as stubborn as a tamaraw.
I silence Finlyr, stepping between him and Isagani. ‘There are three chambers and five of us. You can have the largest – the captain’s quarters, but you must share with Sinigang.’
Finlyr grimaces. ‘You tell the otter-cat when he’s woken up.’
‘Biba and I can bunk together and Isagani can have their own room for once.’
‘A lifetime at sea counts for naught with you, does it?’
‘It counts,’ I say, begrudgingly. ‘Just remember that I’m the one who furnished you with that.’ I point to the map, now in his breast pocket.
He considers and then hands me the map. ‘You’re this voyage’s navigator. What do you see?’
I stare at the sky, trying to map the constellations. ‘I’d have to consult the tools. What direction are we going in?’
‘Exactly.’ He smiles, his eyes glittering. He gets out a gold-rimmed pocket compass.
‘That’s a fine piece of work,’ I say.
‘It was my mother’s,’ he says, his voice raw and reverent.
‘Was she also a sailor?’
Finlyr nods. ‘She was a Seaguardian.’
I baulk. That was not what I was expecting.
‘Like the man we left for dead?’
His mouth sets into a hard line. ‘Yes. We did what we had to.’
Like Ryla, he had a Seaguardian mother – but what had led him to this path? I stare at him anew, and it feels as if I’ve really known nothing about him before now.
‘Back to business. We’re heading north-east.’ He clears his throat, and I look again at the map.
I allow him to keep his secrets, for now. ‘I think we need to bear further east,’ I suggest, looking back south at the distant shapes of the isles. ‘There’s the Winter Isle, so we’re a straight shot too far north.’
Finlyr tilts his head, following my hand and then looking back at the map.
‘We don’t want to run straight into the Maelstrom; we want to approach it side-on and angle into it. Lest we smash ourselves to smithereens.’
‘Wouldn’t we prefer to see it coming at the bow?’ I counter.
‘We won’t be getting too close too quick.’
