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He leans forward in his seat and snarls right back, “Don’t curse the gods on my ship, woman, or you will end up drowning us. Now, sit down in your seat.”

“I’d rather stand.” I cross my arms.

“Sit. Down. Now,” he demands. “Or you can go back to our room and not leave it.”

My heart pounds as I feel myself backed into a corner, and the smug bastard knows it. I can’t be locked in his room for the entire trip, or I’m going to go mad, and I am starving. With gritted teeth, I storm over to the empty seat next to him and sit down. The chatter in the room begins again, but my cheeks are still burning red. Freckles is on the other side of the table, in between Chaos, who is near Draven, and Clark. Clark’s brother is next to him, and I’m relieved I didn’t invent the boy in my mind. I don’t know any of the others, but the man next to me is fixed in conversation with another man, and his red hair makes me wonder if this is Tracker, who Freckles mentioned. I’m getting used to these strange names.

Draven hooks his foot under the front leg of my chair, lunging the seat forward and tightly pressing me to the table. “Don’t want you running again, Map. Good morning.”

“I really fucking hate you,” I dryly reply. “Good morning too.”

The table goes silent. I don’t know why I expected anything else, but he laughs, a deep, bellowing laugh. The rest of the table laughs with him before going back to chatting. “You have a really dirty mouth for someone born in the Stilts. Most of you have that kind of shit beaten out of you early, but they clearly didn’t get to you yet.” He cocks an eyebrow. I can feel people staring at us as I stare him down. I’m not lowering my gaze. He accepts the challenge easily, staring right back at me.

“Clearly you haven’t been in the Stilts long if you think for a second we don’t all talk like this,” I counter. “And looking at you…well, I doubt your pretty face has ever suffered at all.”

“So you like my face? Why, you’re charming under all that hateful demeanor.” His gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine.

“Oh please, can we not? Breakfast is more important than arguing when she hasn’t eaten in days,” Freckles interrupts. “Please eat. Stop staring each other down in that weird way you do. Yes, you don’t like each other. None of us have to like each other. We need you and you need us. You’re the map and we are the ship. He is the captain. End of.”

I’m surprised at Freckles’s outburst, and it seems like everyone is too, as their eyes shoot over to her. Silence echoes as I stare at the food, and I don’t know what to touch first. I stare long enough that I don’t notice Draven picking up a pastry, fruits and cheese to pile onto my plate until the scent under my nose catches my attention. When he looks up at my surprised face, he shrugs. “Eat. Your noisy stomach is giving me a headache.”

“Fine.” I pick up the pastry first, and it tastes delicious. It’s buttery, soft and just really, really nice. I have a few of the red fruits, which from memory of a book, I’d say might be called a strawberry. When I finish, I find Chaos frowning at my plate like it’s an enemy, and Freckles is chatting away to Clark about a new type of fabric she heard is being sold on Havenward Island. Draven is turning his ring around on his finger, looking straight down the table.

“When will we get to land?” I ask after a long drink of water.

“You really shouldn’t let her speak to you like that,” Chaos growls, slamming his hand on the table.

“I decide how she can speak to me.” Draven looks right at Chaos, and he bows his head once before getting up from the table and leaving. Many of the people leave with him, taking their plates to pile at the end of the table. “We get to land in a week, Map, as long as we don’t hit a storm.”

“Good. I am getting some things on Havenward, and I need a few hours there,” I declare. Maybe more if things go well. I don’t care if he wants to follow me. I can easily lose him or anyone he sends to guard me.

“You’re not leaving the ship.” Draven picks up a grape and eats it.

“Why the fuck not?” I ask.

“Because of that.” He touches my wrist, the start of the map, and I feel his touch burn through my skin as I yank my arm out of his touch. He arches an eyebrow but says nothing.

I shove away from the table and rise. “You’re not keeping me a prisoner on the ship forever, Draven.”

“At what point did you think you weren’t a prisoner?” He laughs low. “You can’t leave the ship. I’m being generous and not tying you to my bed until we figure out if the map is leading to Havenward. Anybody else would do far worse. Call me a bastard, but you were damn lucky that you landed on my ship.”

“I doubt luck had anything to do with this.” I shake my head. “And I’m not staying on here.”

“Can’t she be taken to the island with someone like you to watch her? I can give her clothes to wear to fully hide the map,” Freckles softly suggests. I smile her way, but she is looking at Draven with a firm stare.

He turns his face and gently answers her. “We both know it’s not a good idea.”

“But we don’t keep slaves or prisoners.” Freckles shrugs, picking up her empty plate as she stands. “And she seems smart enough to know she needs the ship and she won’t outrun you.”

Draven blows out a breath and looks at me for a long moment. I can’t read his expression. “You can’t defend yourself. One shove, and you’d fall over. So, until you can defend yourself, you’re not going off this ship, and that is me being reasonable.”

I snort in laughter. “Reasonable? How exactly am I meant to learn to defend myself, then? They didn’t exactly give out training in the Stilts.”

“Of course not, that would breed rebellion, and the king is anything but stupid.” There’s such venom in his voice it freezes me to the spot. The ship groans for a moment, the wood breathing like it needs air. “Tracker and I will train you. We will take it in turns, and you will train morning and night. You will also help with chores around the ship, like cleaning plates or washing clothes. If both of us agree that you are at least strong enough to withstand even an idiot attacking you, then you can leave the ship.” Well, that shouldn’t be too hard. “Why do you want to go to Havenward?”

“That’s none of your business.” I lift my chin.

“Secrets are always my business on my ship, and yours…fuck, I’m interested in diving into.” He leans closer. “Go on, tell me.”