She let out a frustrated huff. “It refuses to take.”
Brax walked around the mast, forehead crinkled as he stroked his red and white peppered beard in thought.
“I haven’t worked much with witchstone before, but the setting looks decent.” He reached out and pulled off a splinter. “Still needs work, but not bad.”
Erinna tapped the stone absentmindedly. Perhaps persuading the stone with arcanum would help. It was greedy material after all.
“I suppose you don’t have a Talent you could use, do you?” Brax asked.
Goosebumps rose on the back of Erinna’s neck, and she shifted in place, suddenly uncomfortable with such a focused stare.
“No,” she clipped.
It was a stretch of the truth. She had Talent, but not one that would take well. It was an almost unanimous truth among followers of the Everdawn that an aberrant Talent could only take from a stone. Never give.
Kenneth denied that folly, but his explanation was unconvincing.“It just works a bit differently, that’s all,”he toldher once and left it at that. Erinna had half a mind to wonder whether her father understood it himself. Druidism was no aberrant Talent, but it certainly wasn’t normal either.
“I may have Asher come and try to activate it,” Erinna explained. Brax nodded in approval. If anyone had a Talent that would be useful, it was Asher.
“Perhaps some enchanted silver will help?”
Erinna and Brax let out surprised gasps. At some point, Lila had snuck behind them and perched on a crate with another broken book in hand.
“Don’t sneak up on us like that.” Red crept back to Brax’s cheeks. In the short amount of time that she’d been around the crew, Erinna had come to realize that Brax hated surprises almost more than he hated incompetence.
“Do you have some?” Erinna tried to keep the desperation out of her voice. She didn’t know if it would work, but gods was she willing to try.
Lila sized her up from the corner of her eye. “Would it help?”
“It might.” Erinna didn’t want to make promises, but enchanted silver may suffice.
“I need more assurance before I hand it over.” Lila had finally moved to an upright position, placing the book gingerly on the crate next to her.
The two women stared at each other for a brief moment. Sizing up the risks and benefits for each situation.
“I can’t make any promises, but if it works, then you’d have a ship capable of handling Asher’s magic. It would save a lot of headaches come storm season.”
Lila narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in thought. “That would be advantageous, but is it worth losing my shifter hunting knife?”
Erinna couldn’t hide her shock. The casualness with which the master gunner mentioned werewolves—shifters—had hermind reeling. So many on Tarth considered them more myth than reality. Just one of the many monsters that found home in the north. But no one had seen such a beast in over a hundred years.
Lila smirked at Erinna’s incredulous look, and Brax clasped her back with a bellowing laugh.
“When they said Tarthans were sheltered, I didn’t realize it was this bad. Know anyone that’s been to the north?” The humor in Brax’s voice did not lift Erinna’s spirits.
“My mother.” The tone in her voice brought an end to the conversation and had both pirates fidgeting in place.
“I’ll consider it. Give me the night, and I’ll have an answer in the morning.” Lila picked up her book once again and slouched against the pile of ropes and sandbags.
Erinna appreciated the sudden silence and space as Brax returned to his frets over supplies, and Lila became uninterested in her dealings once again. Without need for further conversation, Erinna left the deck of theHellish Rebukein the company of her own thoughts and inner turmoil.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Would they really lose everything if he burnt the place to the ground? Kane wondered, pacing the small guardstation as Afton busied himself in his books. It was close to midnight, and they made little progress with the coded index.
They were so close. Kane could nearly feel the map between his fingers. The next piece that would get him closer to the Heart. But the traps behind those doors remained troublesome, and the index that was meant to lead him to his prize had been coded beyond belief. He clenched his hand into a fist.
