Charles shrugged.“I never claimed to be otherwise.”
Down the deck, the bosun’s whistle piped and I heard Samuel’s voice from the quarterdeck, strong and carrying.It stirred my blood in more than one way—I was all too happy to be distracted.
“Ms.Firth!A north wind, if you please?”
In answer I drew in a deep breath, down to the roots of my lungs.Then I began to sing, pushing aside Charles’s words and all the uncertainties surrounding us.
The closest winds came to me in a heady rush, swirling around me.These were my trained winds, the ones that always lingered nearby, tied directly to my will and the flow of my magic.They surrounded Charles and I, stirring our clothing and hair and carrying my voice out over the water.
Next came the true wind, streaming down from the sky high above and, at my command, rushing south.As I sang that wind turned colder and sailors began to support me with a chant, arhythmic backdrop to my melody as they raised the sails.Canvas rose with a creak of lines and tackle and a ripple of heavy fabric.We tacked, and shadows eased across Charles and I and the deck beneath our feet.
The ship turned, slowly, south.Wind whipped my hair past my face as I finished my song and looked at my friend, my smile quick and my eyes alight.
“Perhaps I wasn’t entirely truthful,” I amended.The song had stirred me, making my blood rush faster and my worries dim.The wind did not care for distant threats—it cared only for swiftness and freedom.“Part of me is ready for a new adventure.”
“Mm.”Charles closed his eyes for an instant, breathing deeply with the skirt of his long coat flapping around his thighs.
When he opened his eyes again, they glistened.Just like mine.
***
A day south of Tithe we navigated a series of sunken islands and hidden reefs to a small, abandoned islet.The remnants of an ancient farm—little more than moss-covered stone walls and a croft with a collapsed roof—were tucked into forbidding shoulders of rock.A handful of rugged, wild goats watched us from ridges as we anchored in a small harbor and set to the work of disguisingHart.
The crew, a diminished complement of one hundred and fifty men and women, gathered in the close, tar, smoke and sweat stink of the gun deck.
“You and your comrades were told back in Tithe that we head into enemy waters after Ophalia Monna, who was stolen from us by Mereish intruders,” Samuel said, facing down the length of the deck.The hammocks had been stowed and the crew stood around or sat on the long guns, lashed in their cradles.Sea-chests were tucked between the guns, and the deck was impeccably clean, illuminated by the open gunports and a wash of daylight.On the breeze, gulls cried.“You, however, know the truth.We sail to the Mereish mainland to recover the captain of the lateHarbringer, my brother Benedict Rosser.Believe me when I say that I take not one of you for granted.Thank you for staying withHartduring this clandestine mission.As Mr.Penn has promised, you will be well paid.”
Nods and murmurs met this.
Samuel went on, “I will take no chances near the Mereish mainland, soHartmust be renamed, our complement disguised.We will fly Usti colors.If necessary, we will make port as Usti smugglers.Those of you who are Usti or speak that language, report to the Uknaras—Illya and Olsa—immediately.”At this, Samuel gestured to the Usti couple, who stood next to me off to one side.“Everyone else, we must be about our tasks.”
Before long,Hart’s gunports were painted blue and their edges hidden with artful paint, while new, false gunports were marked at lesser intervals.This would not hold up to close inspection, but it would not do forMacholka—translated to theLeaping Stag, from an Usti folktale—to halveHart’s warship complement of forty-two guns.We were merchants and smugglers now, sly and discreet.
There was little for me to do save calm the frigid wind around the ship and ensure the painters could finish their work in relative comfort.I leaned over the stern as the Usti letters were inscribed above the gallery windows, one at a time.
Positioned as I was, I saw the sails round the island at the same time as the watchmen.The newcomer flew Mereish colors, boasted bold red sails, and, by her track, she was making for our cove.
No warning bell sounded.No watchman cried out.But the message rippled down the deck.
I looked up as Samuel appeared at my side, clear-eyed and alert.He was already wearing an Usti overcoat—broadly belted and spewing fur at every opening—along with a fur-lined hat.His hair was loose at his cheeks and his beard less kempt, but well oiled.His sun-darkened skin was naturally ambiguous, though his faceleaned towards the Aeadine—his nose a little too straight for an Usti, his cheekbones a little too smooth.But he was passable.
My features were not, though that hardly mattered.Stormsingers were commodities bought and traded and stolen, and no one cared where we came from.
I thought of my contract, carefully stowed with Samuel’s documents in the main cabin, and steeled myself.
“Cap’n,” Ms.Skarrow called, craning out from the balcony below, spyglass in hand.Below her, the small waves of the cove chopped placidly.“Do we beat to quarters?”
“No.Finish your work as usual, though pick up the pace.Thank the Saint we already stowed the midship guns.”Samuel turned.“Mr.Uknara!”
Illya topped the quarterdeck stairs, Olsa a step behind.
“You are my first officer, as we discussed.Ms.Uknara, you are my Sooth.Mr.Keo!Assemble our ‘Usti’ crew and get everyone else below.Mr.Penn, see our armsmen prepared, though discreetly.Mary?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat.“I’ll change, but stay out of sight.”
He offered me a brief, bracing smile then looked at the nervous crew.“Stay calm.Like as not she’ll pay us no mind and be on her way once her water casks are full—there’s little else on this island to be had.Finish your tasks.Go about your evening.Nothing is amiss.”
His confidence bolstered the crew, but my stomach was still uneasy as I made my way down to my cabin and hurriedly opened a trunk.An array of garments spread out before me: Aeadine, Mereish, and Usti.I chose an overcoat from the latter, braided my hair into two braids threaded with linen, and wrapped them around my head.I topped it all with a fur-lined cap like Olsa usually wore, and my transformation from free Aeadine Stormsinger to captive of Usti smugglers was complete.
