Six

SIX

The deck of the Luna shimmered with moonlight as we stood shoulder to shoulder in the wind, dripping seawater. Clove was perched on a stool with our hauls organized before him, weighing the stones one at a time and calling out the weights to Zola’s coin master, who recorded them in the ledger opened over his lap.

Clove set a raw, bulbous piece of garnet onto the brass scale, leaning forward and squinting to read the dial by lantern light. “Half.”

Beside me, Koy let out a satisfied grunt.

I wasn’t surprised at his haul. I had often wondered if he’d been taught by a gem sage because he knew how to read the shape of the rock beneath the coral and how to find the crests with the most concentrated stones. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t become a better dredger by watching him on the reefs. But when he started his ferrying business to the barrier islands nearly two years ago, he hadn’t needed to dive like the rest of us.

Ryland shook his head bitterly, his jaw clenched. His haul hadn’t even registered in the top five. Neither had Wick’s. No wonder Zola was looking for a new dredger the day I met him in Dern.

Koy had hit over seven carats and he’d probably do it again tomorrow. He was stronger than me and could hit the mallet in heavier strikes, which meant he needed fewer descents to loose the gems. And I wasn’t complaining. He could have the extra coin for all I cared. The sooner we got the haul up, the sooner I could get back to the Narrows and find the Marigold.

“Get your gear dry. Supper’s up.” Clove stood from the stool, handing the scale to the coin master. “Fable.” He said my name without looking at me, but his chin tipped up to the archway, signaling me to follow.

I slung my belt over my shoulder as I followed him into the wide breezeway. It was twice the size of the one on the Marigold. Work benches were bolted to the deck and walls, where three strykers were cleaning fish. The smell was washed clean by the smoky air pouring out of the helmsman’s quarters.

Inside, Zola sat at his desk over a stack of maps, not bothering to look up when Clove set the ledger down before him. The fragrant scent of the mullein in his pipe hovered in the rafters above us, swirling in the turn of air. The sight almost made me feel as if Saint was there in the cabin with us.

Zola finished what he was writing before he set down the quill and began to read the coin master’s ledgers. “So?” he asked, glancing up at me from the page.

I stared at him. “So?”

“I need a report on the dive.” His chair creaked as he leaned back, taking the pipe from where it was clenched in his teeth. He held it before him, and the leaves smoldered in the chamber, sending another weak stream of smoke into the air.

“It’s right there.” The words thinned as my eyes landed on the open book.

He smirked. “You led the dive.” He slid the ledger toward me. “I want to hear it from you.”

I looked to Clove, unsure what Zola wanted. But he only stared at me as if he was waiting for the same answer. I pulled in a long breath through gritted teeth, taking the few steps between me and the desk before I let my belt slide from my shoulder. It landed on the floor hard, the tools clattering together.

“Fine.” I picked up the ledger, holding it before me. “Twenty-four carats emerald, thirty-two carats tourmaline, twenty-one carats garnet. Twenty-five and one-half green abalone, thirty-six carats quartz, and twenty-eight carats bloodstone. There are also three pieces of opal, but they’re not viable. Might be worth something in trade, but not for coin.” I shut the book with a snap, dropping it back onto the desk.

Zola watched me through the haze trailing up from the whalebone pipe. “How’d they do?”

“The dredgers?” My brow pulled.

He gave me a nod.

“I just told you.”

His elbows hit the desk and he propped himself up on them. “I mean how’d they do. Any problems?”

I glowered at him, irritated. “You’re paying me to lead the dives, not report on the dredgers.”

Zola pursed his lips, thinking. After a moment, he opened the drawer of his desk and set a small purse on the pile of maps. He fished out five coppers and stacked them before me. “Now I’m paying you for both.” I watched the lift of his mouth. The sharpening of his eyes. He was still playing his game. But I still didn’t know the rules to it.

Reporting on the other dredgers was the best way to get yanked from my hammock and thrown overboard in the middle of the night. “No thanks,” I said flatly.

From the corner of my eye, I thought I could see Clove shift on his feet, but both of his boots were planted side by side, unmoving.

“All right,” Zola conceded, scooting his chair up. “We need to hit double those numbers tomorrow.”

“Double?” The word leapt from my mouth, too loud.

That got his attention. Both of his eyebrows lifted as he studied me. “Double,” he said again.

“That’s not what you said. There’s no way we can hit that.”

“That was before I knew I had such a competent dredger to lead the dive. I didn’t expect you to hit these numbers in a day.” He shrugged, pleased with himself.

“It’s not possible,” I said again.

“Then none of you are getting back to the Narrows.”

I set my jaw, willing my face to stay composed. The worst mistake I could make with Zola was letting him shake me. I had to get back to my ship. It was all that mattered.

I blinked. When had I begun thinking of the Marigold as mine? My home.

But if I didn’t find a way to get the upper hand, that was never going to happen. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You do?”

“You let me loose in the crew’s cabin when they all know what happened to Crane. You put me in charge of the dive instead of your own dredgers. You want someone else to get rid of me before we ever make port.”

“So, you were there when West killed Crane.” Zola lifted his brows in revelation. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a murderer. And it wasn’t my idea to put you in charge.” His attention instantly went to Clove.

I turned to look at him, but Clove was unreadable. His eyes were as empty as a night sky as they stared back into mine. And that was a different kind of threat.

He and Zola were on a tight schedule. One they couldn’t afford to break. I was Saint’s daughter, sure. But if they wanted to use me against my father, why take me out of the Narrows? There was something more valuable about me than that.

Clove knew what I could do with the gems, and for the first time I considered that was why I was here. Not only to dredge, but to find the gems they needed for whatever they were planning.

“What are you going to do with them?” I asked Zola the question, but my gaze was still pinned on Clove.

Zola half-smiled. “With what?”

“Why is a ship that’s licensed to trade in the Narrows sailing under a fake crest and dredging reefs in the Unnamed Sea without a permit?”

His head tilted to one side, surveying me.

“You’ve dumped your inventory, abandoned your route, and everyone knows that big gem trader in Bastian wants your head.”

“And?”

“And it begs the question. What are you going to do with over three hundred carats of gemstones?”

Zola turned the pipe over and tapped it against the bronze bowl at the corner of the desk, emptying its ashes. “Join my crew and maybe I’ll tell you.” He stood, rolling up the maps.

I glared at him.

“What’s it to you? You’d be trading one bastard helmsman for another.”

“West is nothing like you,” I said.

Zola nearly laughed. “Looks like you don’t know your helmsman very well after all.” He clicked his tongue.

A chill ran up my spine. That’s what Saint said when I saw him in Dern.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Fable, but West has spilled enough blood to paint the Marigold red.”

“You’re a liar.”

He threw up his hands in mock surrender as he came around the desk and found his seat at the table. “You sure you don’t want to join me for supper?” The tip of the fork hit the rim of the plate as he picked it up, and that ghoulish, morbid grin returned to his face.

I picked up my belt and started toward the door. Clove didn’t move out of my way until I was stopped in front of him, standing so close I could touch him. My mouth didn’t open, but I cast every ounce of hatred within me upon him. I let it roll off me in waves until I could see the set of his mouth falter. He stepped to the side and I reached for the latch, flinging the door open and letting it slam against the wall as I left.

I fit the belt back around my waist and tightened it, taking the steps up to the quarterdeck, where Koy was sitting with his legs hanging over the stern. A bowl of steaming stew was clutched in his hands, his hair drying in waves down his back. When he saw me, his brow creased.

I didn’t know what had brought Koy onto the Luna, and I didn’t care. But there was one thing about him I knew I could count on. I stepped on the heel of my boots to slide them off.

He dropped his spoon into the bowl. “What the hell are you doing?”

I checked my tools again, my finger catching on the tip of the chisel. “We have to double today’s haul before sundown tomorrow if we’re going to get paid.”

He stiffened, looking from me to the water. “You’re going back in?”

The moon was almost full and its pale light rippled on the calm water around us. As long as the clouds didn’t blow in, I could stay in the shallows and work the rock closest to the surface. It would be slow going, but there weren’t enough hours of daylight to hit the quota Zola had set.

When he didn’t move, I tried again. “I think I can hit those twenty carats before dawn.”

He measured me for a moment, his black eyes shining before he groaned, taking his belt from where he’d dropped it on the deck. A moment later we were both back up on the railing. Down on the main deck, Ryland was watching us.

Koy looked over my head, eyeing him. “You watching that one?” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh yeah,” I breathed. In the hours since we dropped anchor, I’d felt Ryland’s attention on me nearly every time I stood on deck, and I was becoming less convinced Zola’s orders to the crew would hold long enough for me to get off his ship alive.

I jumped, and the cold air whipped around me before I plunged into the water, every muscle in my legs burning with fatigue. Koy came up behind me when I broke the surface and we didn’t speak as we filled up with breath. The milk-white moon hovered above the horizon, where it was rising at a slow, steady pace.

“I thought you said you weren’t Jevali,” he said, breaking the silence between us.

“I’m not,” I spat.

He arched an eyebrow knowingly, a smirk changing the composition of his face. I’d never admit it, but the most honest part of me knew what he meant. Getting back into the dark water after an entire day of diving was insane. It was something a Jevali would do. That’s why I’d known that Koy would come with me.

Whether I liked it or not, there were pieces of me that had been carved by those years on Jeval. It had changed me. In a way, it had made me.

He grinned, reading my thoughts, and gave me a wink before he sank under the surface. In another breath, I followed.