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“Sounds like a good deal, Mellyn,” I whisper into his hair, holding him a little tighter.

“Mellybean, you down here?” Clark calls out, his voice echoing down the stairs. He comes down at Mellyn’s shout, and he looks between us as I let him go. “Everything okay?”

“We are making deals. I may not have magic, but I keep my promises, and I just promised to train him to defend himself, and he’s agreed to sing me more songs,” I offer, but it’s a question. If he doesn’t want me to train him, I won’t. Clark is his family and Mellyn is a too trusting little boy.

Clark looks at me with shock for a second, but it morphs into a flash of light in his eyes. I can tell he’s thankful with just one glance. “I’m not very good at the fighting part, or I would teach him too. Draven, Tracker and Chaos are busy and they don’t like children all that much, so they won’t. Freckles can’t fight either, so there really hasn’t been anyone to teach him.” I should invite Freckles to learn, too. Every woman should know how to take a man down. “Actually, I tend to pass out anytime Chaos or Tracker has tried to teach me to defend myself. I—” He looks startled that he just admitted that, and he’s blushing. “I mean…it’s…um, well, all I’m saying is I am thankful, Miriam.” He pats Mellyn’s back. “Anyway, go and wash up for dinner, please.” Mellyn listens, running off to the stairs.

An uneasy silence echoes between us. “You’ve been avoiding me,” I start.

“You stole potions and knocked my captain out. I got the blame for letting you have access in the first place, and I don’t like to—” He gulps, and I feel so guilty it hurts my heart. “I’ve had to lock all my potions up now because of you, and I-I don’t mind, but it m-makes my day harder,” he stutters. “I’m sorr⁠—”

“No, you should be mad at me, and don’t you dare say sorry. I was in the wrong, and I am sorry. I just…I was desperate to get away, and it won’t happen again.” He furrows his brow. “I’m starting to learn that I can trust the captain at least to get me to the end of this and keep me alive.” I tap the map on my wrist. “If nothing else, I’ll be alive and he will be rich soon. But I do actually want to be your friend, so I’m sorry about the potions. I mean it.”

“Apology accepted.” Gods alive, I don’t deserve to even know him. He is too nice, too kind, and I am going to make it up to him. “Thank you, by the way, for listening to Mellyn’s songs. I struggle sometimes to listen to them, when he usually sings of death. The power that’s in them. It’s rare for witches, and children like him used to be hunted for their gift. A boy who can tell the future and the secrets of the past in his songs? Priceless to kings and royals who need information on their enemies. I never want the king to find him.”

The king finding Mellyn would make him even more powerful, and I’m glad he is on a ship with Draven, who wouldn’t let that happen. He cares about his crew, that much is obvious. “It’s okay. Most of the time, I don’t know what he is singing about. The first time, though, he sang something about my mother that happened, and no one alive but me would know. Some parts of it were things that I’d heard about her wedding day, and others were not.”

“I don’t know how much he’s making up, like kids do, or what he’s actually foreseeing as he grows older. I know his power will grow with him, and when he is an adult? Well, I worry for what that day will mean.” Clark’s shoulders drop. “But I will be there to hide him, to guide his power.”

“I look forward to seeing him as an adult, too.” I want to tell him that I’d love for him to meet Rowe, but I keep that to myself. I still haven’t told anyone on this ship, except Wyatt, about Rowe, and I want it to stay that way.

“Me too.” Clark shifts on his feet. “He seems to trust you.”

“Mellyn told me about where he was born…” I drift off, giving him the chance to tell me if he wants to but not pushing it.

Clark gulps. “I didn’t know about him, not until it was too late and he had been there too long. The damage was done. That island, some of the islands where slavery is most rife are awful. His singing kept him alive, but barely. My power saved him when I wasn’t sure it could.” He rubs his arms, and the bell rings out across the ship for dinner. “We best change the subject before I lose interest in my dinner.”

“Agreed,” I softly answer, hooking my arm through Clark’s as we head to the stairs. We walk over to the main table, and I let him go to find my seat. Ren is not in his seat, which is strange because he is usually early to the table.

Freckles has already sat down, and she leans forward with a big smile. “I finally finished that dress. You know the gold one you liked? You have to come and see it.”

I grin back. “Really? That must have taken you so long, and of course I’ll come and see it.” Chaos sits down in the seat next to me with a grunt. I’m tempted to wind him up with a snarky comment, but he glares at me for a second, and I turn away, changing my mind.

Chaos’s attitude changes completely when he talks to Freckles, all soft and kind. “Did you find the tape you were after this morning?”

She shakes her head. “No, but when we stop next, I’ll buy some more. I thought I had more, but I must have run out. Thank you for looking after me. I know you’re busy.”

“Well, if we didn’t have to get rid of so many men, then I wouldn’t be,” he bites, glaring at me, but I raise my eyebrows at Freckles, who hides her smile.

Ren comes stomping in, wearing a dark gray cloak that blows around him, and he sits at the table. “Eat. It’s been a long day.”

No one disagrees, and hands reach for the metal covers, revealing the chicken, vegetables, and potatoes, both mashed and roasted. The honey-glazed parsnips are my favorite, and I wait for Freckles to pass me the serving spoon before I pick a handful. I add a little chicken, peas, and potatoes to my plate to fill it. I feel Ren’s eyes on me, but when I turn to look at him, he has already turned away, and he is helping himself to a large portion of green, messy, mashed-looking stuff. “What is that?”

“A family recipe, a mixture of vegetables and herbs, mixed with pure honey. If you like the parsnips, you will like this. Here.” He takes a spoonful of the mash from his plate and puts it on mine. Silence echoes around the table, and I turn, frowning at Tracker, Freckles, Clark, and Chaos all staring at us with a look of surprise and shock.

Hesitantly, I ask, “Do you want some, too?” All of them look away except for Chaos, who has a locked jaw and is staring hard at Ren. Ren is ignoring him completely. I know I’m missing something, but I don’t know what. We all dig in, no one talking, and Ren is right. I love the green honey mash so much I eat it all first. Ren is leaving his to be the last thing he eats. I don’t understand people who leave the best part of the meal for last when you can have all of it straightaway. I’ve never had enough food to make a choice until now.

I notice the sharp knife next to my plate after a while, and I stare at it a dozen times throughout my meal. I’m never given sharp knives at the dinner table, and I’m certainly keeping this one. When the men are deep in conversation about the migration of birds marking an incoming severe storm, I slide the dagger down past my plate, into my lap, before tucking it into the waistband of my leggings. It could nick me, but hiding knives on me isn’t exactly new, and I know how to do it.

Ren carries on his conversation for a while, and my shoulders drop. He didn’t notice. I finish the rest of my plate, and only when the last crumb is gone does Ren turn his full attention on me, like a stream of sunlight pouring over my body.

His deep laugh echoes. “Plan to stab me with that later, Map?” He flips his own knife into the air and effortlessly catches it. “If so, make sure you aim for the heart and make it deep. I get grumpy when I wake up stabbed.”

“I’m sure it’s a frequent occurrence with all the women you’ve had sleep in your room. Being stabbed, I bet, is more for them than you.” I lift an eyebrow when Chaos of all people barks out a laugh. Oh, he likes dirty humor. Noted. Ren’s lips tilt up in amusement, but I’m not done. “But attempting to kill you? I bet that happens often with how much bullshit comes out of your mouth.”

“You seem very focused on my mouth.” He grins, and my heart leaps. “And for the record between us, only you’ve slept in my room. I like women who hate my very existence in my bed, and there is only you who holds that claim.”

“Fine, I just wanted something to defend myself with!” I shout at him. “I’m not a child, and I should have a weapon on me if I want one!”