“The quarterdeck doesn’t offer much in the way of cover. The sprite. Can she create a diversion?”
“Yes. She awaits your orders and is hopeful that Oannes will return to help once the figurehead goes dark. With any luck, the crew will be busy fighting the two of them while we escape on the dinghy.”
The alpha nodded. “You said the door to her cage is on the deck. Can you reach her without being seen?”
Last night, I’d easily navigated the shadows of the deck. This morning, the shadows were steadily disappearing, and there’d be a lot more fishmen up and about. “I’ll keep to the iron cage outside the ship.”
“Good. If you’re spotted, gut the fish and throw him overboard. You hear me?”
“Loud and clear.” I’d learned my lesson. This time, I wouldn’t hesitate.
“Rust, you’re on the dinghy. Get it prepped and in the water. Mackiel, cover him. Ziara, signal the sprite, and then get your ass to the dinghy. I’ll handle anyone who comes to stop us.”
“What about the slavers on the island?” I asked.
“One problem at a time.” He slung his rifle over his shoulder and checked the magazine. “How long will it take you to alert the fire sprite?”
It was a big ship, and she was all the way at the front, but I was fast. “Ten minutes. Max.”
Dad met my eyes, assessing me with the cold calculation of an alpha deciding how to deploy an asset he couldn’t fully trust to succeed.
“We’ll give you fifteen, and then we’ll move. Don’t deviate from my orders this time,” he said. “And Ziara, after we make it off this ship, you and I are going to have a long conversation.”
I’dbeen expecting as much, but my stomach still twisted in knots. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Get going.”
Flinging my backpack over my shoulders, I made my way to the porthole and slipped out.
Time to let a furious fire sprite off her leash.
The iron cage was slick with sea spray and morning dew, but my fingers found their grip. I scaled the hull as if I’d been doing it my entire life, keeping low and tight against the bars. The water churned below, dark and uninviting. One slip and I’d be fish food. Or food for whatever nefarious creatures lived in the deep.
The wind had picked up, carrying the stink of the crew and the sharper tang of salt. Above, boots thudded against the deck, accompanied by the guttural murmur of sailors going about their morning tasks.
I edged along the port side ribcage toward the bow, pausing every time a shadow passed above. My arms burned from the effort of clinging to wet iron while the ship rocked, but I’d trained for worse. Rust had once made me hang from the ceiling of the gym for a full forty-five minutes while he lobbed tennis balls at my head. This was practically relaxing by comparison.
By the time I reached the bow, my fingers had collected a few new blisters, and my shoulders screamed in protest. Instead of approaching Anunit’s door on the busy deck, I swung through the bars and dropped onto the gaping beak of the figurehead. Despite my unvoiced fear that Dad was right, and she’d bolted, the sprite hovered beside her broken cage, flames burning low and steady.
Her eyes brimmed with anticipation when they met mine. “It is time?”
As much as I hated to admit, it had been closer to fifteen minutes since I’d left my packmates. “My peopleare heading to the dinghy from the stern now. They could really use a distraction.”
She nodded once, and something shifted in her expression. The exhaustion I’d seen last night was still there, layered beneath fading burns and bone-deep weariness, but there was something else now, too. Purpose.
“Give them a few minutes, and then do your worst.”
I turned to go, but she stopped me.
“Ziara.” Her voice crackled, gaining my full attention. “Thank you for hearing my song.”
My throat tightened. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“I will not forget your kindness.”
“And I won’t forget your help. Be careful, and light these bastards up for what they did to you.”
The wide grin that spread across her features was entirely malicious, with a side of crazy. “Oh, I intend to.”
