"What is it?" Cali finally asked. "What secret do the sirens have that could ruin you?"
Bonnie peered at the cove and ran one finger along the inside of her goblet’s rim. "That’s quite a question to answer over the first drink."
"Then I'll make you a trade." Cali squared her shoulders. "I'll tell you the secret that not even my closest friends know.”
The pirate was quiet long enough that Cali thought she might refuse. Then she let out a breath that sounded as if it had been held for some time. "All right."
So, Cali told her about her first crew. How they’d been no good. None except for Adelaide. Her voice became wistful as she talked about how close they’d gotten and how they’d shared a dream of leaving together. She didn’t meet the pirate’s eyes as she told her how she’d come back to the camp and found Adelaide gone. How there’d been no trace of her. How she’d never known why.
“You love her,” Bonnie whispered.
Cali thought about this. Shehadloved her, but that version of herself was long gone, as was the woman she’d loved. “I did. A part of me always will, I suppose. But now I just want to know that she’s okay. I just want to know what happened. That’s why I’ve been looking for her in every quest since.”
Bonnie had set down her goblet. Her hand found Cali's paw on the table and rested over it, warm and unhurried. "Why have you never told your friends?"
“I suppose I didn’t want their pity, and I didn’t want to make my search into something that hung over everything we did.”
Bonnie was quiet for a moment. "Why tell me, then?"
Cali laughed, and it came out more honestly than she'd intended. "Because I doubt I'll run into you again after this. And Igenuinely want to know what secret a pirate captain could have. I have a feeling it was a good trade.”
What she didn’t admit was that she’dwantedto tell Bonnie. She felt like her secret was safe with her. Despite Bonnie’s notorious reputation, her gut told her she could trust the woman.
The serving girl appeared then with her vestigial wings tucked flat, as she set platters of boiled shellfish between them. Spice sharpened the salt air, and steam curled up from the blistered shells. Then the girl was gone again.
Bonnie reached forward and picked up one of the clawed creatures from the platter. She examined it for a moment, then set it back down. “I suppose it’s my turn.” She leaned back in her chair and reached up, unhooking the eye patch with two fingers and pulling it away.
Beneath it was an eye. A perfectly good blue eye.
Cali looked at it. Then she looked at the eye patch in Bonnie's hand. Her jaw went slack. "You don't need that."
Bonnie blinked as her eye adjusted to the light, and she shook her head.
“But why—“ Cali asked.
“Because I’m not Bonnie One-Eye.”
Twenty-Eight
Cali gaped at the pirate.“If you aren’t Bonnie, who are you?”
“Oh, my name is Bonnie, but I’m not the one-eyed pirate who first made her name on the high seas. My grandmother was the original Bonnie One-Eye, and she truly only has one eye.” Bonnie reached for a claw and cracked it in her hands. “She lost her eye in a battle off the coast of Lananore. She never said much about it except that the other captain looked worse. By then, she was already notorious, but losing the eye made her legendary and gave her the name. You know how sailors are. They love a good injury. I’m just grateful it wasn’t a peg leg.”
Even though the pantheri was still in shock over the revelation, she couldn’t help grinning. “That would be harder to fake.”
Not-One-Eye-Bonnie made a face. “Tell me about it.”
Cali leaned her elbows on the table between them. “So how did you end up taking on the name?”
“She wanted the legacy to survive her.” Bonnie said, plucking creamy meat from inside the spiny claw. “She’d spent half alifetime building the reputation. It seemed wasteful to let it die just because she was tired.” She tapped the eye patch where it lay on the table beside her goblet. “My mother was already crewing with her and was already the best sailor on the ship. My grandmother handed her the Cruel Mistress, the title, and this.”
“And your mother wore the patch over a good eye?”
“Gladly.” Bonnie’s mouth curved before she popped the claw meat into her mouth. “To hear my grandmother tell it, my mother always had a flair for the dramatic.”
Cali nodded as she imagined the black eye patch being passed down like an inheritance. “And then your mother retired and handed it to you.”
“A few years ago.” Bonnie swallowed as she looked out at the cove. The last of the pink had seeped from the sky, and the water below had darkened. “She’s living in a cottage on another of the unmarked islands with my dad.”
