Thirty-Two

THIRTY-TWO

I could feel West’s gaze on me as I stood at the bow, watching Sagsay Holm come into view.

The little village was aglow in the sunset, the redbrick buildings stacked like stones ready to topple. But my eyes were fixed on only one ship in the harbor. Dark stained wood and a bow carved into sea demons. Stretched across the jib was a square of wide white canvas bearing Holland’s crest.

The knot in my stomach had only tightened in the hours since we’d left Fable’s Skerry. I’d stood across the desk from my grandmother and told her I could find the midnight. I’d struck the deal on the toss of dice, and I’d lost.

If Clove reached Saint in time for him to get a merchant’s ring to barter, and the Roths actually made good on their promise, we could have a shot at sinking Holland. But that wouldn’t keep Saint from finding a rope around his neck. If there was anything my father was bad at, it was playing by other people’s rules. He was as much a wild card as Henrik was.

I took up the heaving lines and threw them out as we neared the dock. The loop caught the farthest post as the harbor master came down the wood plank walkway, his attention on the parchments in his hands. He scribbled the quill from left to right, not bothering to glance up until West was coming down the ladder.

He looked up from beneath the rim of his hat when West’s boots hit the dock. “Marigold?”

West’s gaze instantly turned suspicious. “Yeah.”

“Holland’s waiting for you on the Seadragon.” He glanced to our crest and made a mark on the parchment. His eyes raked over West top to bottom, but he didn’t say whatever it was he was thinking. “Wouldn’t keep her waiting if I were you.”

West looked up to me, and I let out a long breath before I climbed over the rail and took the ladder down.

“I’ll get the deed back, West.”

He looked worried. Afraid, even. “It’s just a ship, Fable.”

I smiled sadly, my head tipping to one side. “I thought we weren’t lying to each other.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“I still have cards to play. I still have my share of the Lark’s haul and—”

“We still have cards to play,” he corrected. “And so does Saint.”

I nodded, dropping my eyes to the ground. Not for the first time, West had been lured into the utter chaos that was Saint and me, and I didn’t like it. It only reminded me that I’d abandoned the rules I’d lived by before I’d met him. The rules we both agreed to leave behind. But now I wondered if we were fooling ourselves into thinking we could do things differently, like we said.

Four guards stood at the mouth of Holland’s dock beneath an archway bearing her crest. Every port in the Unnamed Sea probably had one just like it. At the end of the slip, a wooden staircase rose two turns to the port side of the Seadragon.

“We’re here to see Holland,” I said, eyeing the short sword at the guard’s hip.

He looked me up and down before he turned on his heel, and West and I followed. We walked up the dock as the sun disappeared and, one by one, the lanterns above the Sea- dragon flickered to life.

I took the steps up from the dock, my hand dragging on the slick railing. The smell of roasting meat drifted off the ship, and when I made it to the deck, I looked back to the Marigold. She sat in the shadow of another vessel, her sails drawn up.

Holland’s man was already waiting for us. He stretched a hand toward the passageway, gesturing to an open door, where I could see the corner of a crimson rug on the wood slats. I steadied myself with a deep breath before I walked toward it.

Inside, Holland sat before a small, gold-painted table with three different log books open, one on top of another, in her lap. She was wrapped in a scarlet shawl, her silver hair intricately braided on top of her head. Sparkling rubies the size of copper coins hung from each ear.

She looked up at me through her thick lashes. “I was wondering if you were going to show.”

“We said sundown,” I reminded her.

She closed the logs and set them onto the table. “Please, sit.”

I took the seat opposite of her, but West still stood, crossing his arms over his chest.

One dubious eyebrow arched up over the other as she surveyed him. “So? Where is it?”

“I don’t have it,” I said, keeping my voice as even as I could.

The tiniest trace of some emotion made the set of her mouth falter. “What do you mean, you don’t have it?”

“We covered every reef in that system. It’s not there,” I lied. But I was still convinced the midnight wasn’t in those waters.

“I seem to remember you saying that you could find it. You insisted, really.” Her voice went flat and when her eyes drifted to West again, I swallowed hard, remembering Zola’s boots in the darkened doorway. The way they twitched. “We had a deal, Fable.” The threat was there in the deep tone that lifted beneath the words. “But I know how you can make it up to me.”

West stiffened beside me.

She opened one of the logs and slipped a folded parchment from inside. Gooseflesh rose on my arms as she opened it and slid it across the low table toward me. “The Trade Council meeting is in two days. You’ll be there. As my representative.”

I gaped at her. “Representing what?”

“My new trade route in the Narrows.”

I slid the parchment back to her without opening it. “I told you I wasn’t interested.”

“That was before I held the deed to the Marigold,” she said, sweetly.

She picked up the document and handed it to me. My hand trembled as I opened it and read the words.

“You’ll get it back when I have your signature on a two-year contract to head my new fleet.”

My lips parted, the sick feeling returning to my gut. “What?” But I already knew. She’d sent me on a fool’s errand with the midnight while she stacked the deck. She’d never counted on me finding it.

From the corner of my eye, I could see West taking a step toward me. Before I’d even finished reading, he snatched the contract from my fingers. I watched as his frantic gaze ran over the scripted writing. “She’s not signing anything,” West said, crumpling the parchment in his fist.

“She will,” Holland said, not a hint of question in her voice. “Sign the contract and you’ll get everything you want. The deed to the Marigold and an operation in the Narrows. The Marigold can even work for me, if you’d like.” She picked up the teacup, holding it before her. “If I pitch a Narrows-born trader as the head of my new route to Ceros, the Trade Council will concede.”

I tried to slow my breaths, holding onto the arm of the chair. “And Saint?”

“Saint is a problem that neither of us want to have. Trust me.” She took a sip of tea from the gold rim. “He’ll be taken care of by the time we’ve set up post in Ceros. Without him and Zola to contend with, I’ll be handing you the control of the gem trade in those waters.”

I looked to West, but he was staring at Holland, his murderous gaze like fire.

“Meet me at Wolfe & Engel tomorrow night with the contract.” Her eyes fell to my shaking hands and I curled them into fists, setting them in my lap. She leaned in, the cold gentleness returning to her face. “I don’t know what filthy hull of a ship you were born on, Fable. I don’t care. But when you sail back to the Narrows, it’s going to be under my crest.”