by Tara Sim
“But you’re not like that,” Soria went on. “You know when enough is enough. So why did you let him get away with it?”
Why had she? Amaya licked her dry lips, unable to find a suitable answer. “I don’t know. I guess… I didn’t know how to stop him. What can I do to make sure he doesn’t fall into it again?”
Soria met her gaze, her right eye nearly overtaken with gray. “You ask that as if you care about him. Do you?”
“I…” Amaya peered at the floorboards. “It’s complicated, Soria. You know that. And besides, we have things to do.”
“I understand there’s a larger problem. That it’ll take time to fix.” Soria fiddled with the sheet that covered her. Beneath it, she looked stick thin. “But I love my brother and I don’t want him to suffer. I don’t want him to be punishing himself. I just…” A tear fell, but she was too weak to lift her hand to brush it away. Amaya leaned forward and did it for her. “I just want him to be all right. I wish I could help him, but I can’t. I can’t do anything!”
A sob escaped her, and Amaya quickly moved from the chair to the edge of the bed. Panicking, not seeing any handkerchiefs nearby, she grabbed the sheets and carefully dabbed at Soria’s eyes.
“I hate this,” Soria whispered. “I hate it so much.”
“I know.” Amaya squeezed her thin shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s all right. I don’t, either.” Soria shook her head, eyelashes clumped into spikes from her tears. “I hope you and the others find out who caused this. I hope you stop them.”
“Even if it was your father?”
“Yes.” Her dark eyes hardened. “If he really is part of the counterfeit scheme, then he deserves justice.”
Amaya took her hand, cold against her own. “I’ll stop them. I promise.”
Soria sniffed and tried to smile. “Thank you. Take care of yourself, too, Amaya. Please.”
“I will.”
She waited until Soria was asleep before heading back to the apartment, her mind even more clouded than it had been before. There were so many things outside her control, Cayo included. There was only so much she could do.
But she had to try regardless.
When she opened the door to the apartment, she was startled by the sudden cry that came from within. Liesl was standing at the table, her chair knocked to the floor behind her.
Deadshot ran out of the bedroom. “What happened?”
Liesl gaped at the sheets spread out before her. She looked at Deadshot, then at Amaya, her glasses glinting with the light that streamed through the window.
“Adrienne,” she whispered. “I know where she is.”
Amaya’s skin prickled at the mix of victory and horror in Liesl’s voice. “Where is she?”
Liesl planted a shaky finger on the decoded records. “Basque owns a fleet of debtor ships. He sent Adrienne to one of them. The Silver Star.”
“Where is it now?” Deadshot asked.
“If this schedule he wrote out is anything to go by, a few of his ships, including the Silver Star, should have already come to Baleine to drop off shipments. But they’ve been keeping certain ships in the harbor for quarantine reasons. Jasper gave me a list of their names a few days ago.” Her voice caught as tears filled her eyes. “The Silver Star is one of them.”
Amaya exchanged a glance with Deadshot. “So that means…”
Liesl nodded. “We have to smuggle my sister from a debtor ship without getting caught.”
Jasper went to the harbor and came back looking grim.
“It’s there all right,” he said. “The Silver Star. Are you sure she’s on that particular ship? It’s been a few years.”
“Captains aren’t in the habit of trading debtors to different ships. She has to be on it still.”
“Can we really trust Basque’s notes?”
“It was in code, wasn’t it?” Liesl snapped. “Why would it be in code unless he wanted to keep the information to himself?”
Jasper wisely didn’t question her again. Liesl was nervous enough as it was, double- and triple-checking the decoded notes, pacing around the apartment, barely eating anything.
Cayo was nervous, too, but for a different reason. With the high-stakes game coming up, he was visibly more tense and had taken to rolling niera coins across his knuckles. Liesl had insisted he go to work at Florimond’s as usual rather than join them.
“I don’t want your antsy fingers getting us into trouble,” she said. As if she were one to talk.
“Fine,” Cayo had muttered. “But, um… good luck.” He’d glanced at Amaya, extending it to her as well. “I hope you find her.”
They still hadn’t told Liesl about the high-stakes game. The girl was too focused on Adrienne to concentrate on anything else. But the more nervous Cayo grew, the more Amaya did as well.
Which was why, when they found themselves on the roof of an inn along the harbor, Liesl couldn’t help but notice Amaya’s fidgeting.
“What is it?” Liesl whispered. The moon was climbing toward its apex above them, the sky a dark swath of fabric. The street at their backs emanated a warm, welcoming light, but the docks ahead were cloaked in shadow broken only by the occasional lantern.
“Nothing,” Amaya whispered back. “Just… reliving bad memories.”
Which was true enough. The thought of stepping foot on another debtor ship made her insides writhe, and she was ashamed by the fear that Captain Zharo could instill in her even when the man was dead. It was that fear that made her wonder if it were possible to free all the debtors, not just Adrienne, to spare them from a similar fate.
She also couldn’t help but remember another confrontation at the docks. Boon gazing at her somberly across the deck of his stolen ship, then the crash of his blade against hers.
Did you kill my father?
In a sense, I suppose I did.
Amaya closed her eyes, driving his face, his words away from her mind as she twisted the jade ring on her finger. She needed to concentrate if they were going to pull this off.
Deadshot crouched at the lip of the roof, watching the alley below. Jasper had a short spyglass affixed to his eye as he watched the docks. Amaya had asked if they should enlist Remy’s assistance, but Liesl had been against it.
“He’s been tremendous help, but we can’t keep putting him in these positions,” the girl had said. “Not when his loyalty lies elsewhere.”
“His loyalty lies with us,” Amaya had argued. “The navy just gave him a home and structure that he needed.”
“He could still get in trouble, and that’s the last thing we need. Best to keep him out of this.”
“Leave the trouble to us,” Jasper had agreed, though his normal joviality had been missing. He seemed as anxious as Liesl, though he had insisted on coming.
Jasper now lowered the spyglass with a nod. “All set.”
“Then let’s go,” Liesl ordered.
They moved quietly across the roof and onto the one beside it, following the curve of buildings along the harbor. The sound of nearby waves was a dull roar under the pounding of Amaya’s heart, the din of tavern dwellers below their feet like the humming of hornets.
Avi waited for them in an alley. He leaned against the wall with an arm around his torso, eyes closed tight, but when they dropped down he started and straightened himself. With a finger to his lips, he silently led them toward the docks. The fish market was packed up for the day, leaving nothing but a few empty stalls set up in a half circle, like a ring of broken teeth.
“Dock sixteen,” Avi whispered before he slipped away again, heading toward his sentry spot. He would keep a lookout in case anyone approached the ship.
Jasper beckoned them to the opposite end of the harbor, where a dinghy sat bobbing on the water. They climbed in, and he untied the rope from the dock as Deadshot began to row.
“We can’t simply saunter onto the ship like we own it,” Liesl had explained earlier th
at day over a crudely drawn map of the docks spread across the table. “We’ll need to be discreet. And we’ll need an escape route in case someone sounds the alarm.”
“This is gonna be harder with that Ghost Ship in the harbor,” Jasper had added. “It’s guarded night and day by a naval ship. So long as we avoid their detection, we should be fine.”
Amaya gripped the sides of the dinghy as Deadshot rowed them farther from shore. Moonlight rippled across the ocean’s dark surface like strands of pearls abandoned by careless ladies. In the distance she saw the so-called Ghost Ship, nothing but a black silhouette against the lit naval vessel beside it. Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight, but it truly did look eerie.
They passed the boats and rowed behind the larger ships. Amaya nervously thought of a story her father had told her about demons in Khari, how some of them slumbered disguised as giant rocks or hills. Wanderers wouldn’t even know they were there until it was too late. The massive forms of the ships loomed over them, ready to uncurl and grab her at any second.
“This one,” Jasper whispered, pointing to dock sixteen.
Deadshot rowed the dinghy closer, the tiny vessel nodding up and down with the movement of the tide. Jasper helped navigate them into the space between two ships, where the moonlight was cut off and everything fell into darkness.
They tied the dinghy to the old, rusted rungs studding the hull. The ship’s name was painted boldly beside them, under a row of portholes: the Silver Star. A pretty name for a ship that looked as if it was five years past due for repair.
“The layout of the ship should be simple,” Liesl had told them earlier. She’d taken a sheaf of parchment and placed it above the map, sketching as she talked. “It’s a barque, which means there’ll be two decks above the hold. If I were to guess, they’ll have placed everyone on the middle deck toward the forecastle.”
Amaya reached for the crusty, cold rungs and ascended the side of the ship. They were wet from sea spray, so she went slowly, taking care not to let her boots slip.
She paused halfway up. A symbol had been carved under the ship’s name, a circle containing the shape of a diamond surrounded by ivy. It looked like the crest of a signet ring pressed into wax. For some reason it tickled the back of her mind, as if she had seen it somewhere before.
“What does this mean?” Amaya whispered down to Jasper.
“No clue,” he whispered back. “It’s not Basque’s crest, I know that much. I also know my hand’s gonna cramp with cold if we keep dawdling here.”
Once on deck, they split up. Jasper went to the stern and Deadshot to the forecastle, keeping an eye out for Avi’s signals. Which left Amaya and Liesl to locate Adrienne.
“The captain’s quarters are usually in the stern,” Liesl whispered. “It should be far enough away not to wake them, but let’s not take any chances.”
Amaya couldn’t stop the sudden memory of Zharo’s ringed hand striking her face. “Agreed.”
They stole down the ladder of the companionway. Amaya spotted the door to the captain’s quarters on the right, and on the left was a hallway leading to what appeared to be the galley.
Liesl pointed at a set of stairs to the deck below. They quietly made their way down, hands pressed against the side of the ship as they descended into the dark. A set of doors with a flurry of locks stood in their way.
“Guess the captain doesn’t want them to escape,” Liesl said dryly, taking out her lockpicking tools. “Can’t imagine why.”
Liesl went through the locks like they were nothing, then pulled open one of the doors just enough to slip inside.
A wave of bitter nostalgia washed over Amaya at the familiar sounds that greeted them. The snores, the groans and murmurs, the squeaking of the hammocks. The smell of unwashed bodies was overpowering, layered over the briny, nauseating scent of fish and blood.
Amaya choked and slapped a hand over her mouth. Liesl gripped her elbow, as much a warning as reassurance.
“This isn’t your life anymore,” the girl whispered in her ear. “Let’s make that true for my sister.”
Amaya nodded, closing her eyes tight. A deep, relentless tremor had started in her chest and spread to her arms, and more than anything she wanted to run back to the fresh air above and dive off this ship.
But she made herself follow Liesl as the older girl began to prowl through the hammocks. Amaya’s gaze strayed toward the bodies they held. They ranged from children to adults, but mostly those in-between, skinny and sickly and most of their hair shorn off. As if the captain wanted to keep them uniform, stripping them of their individuality. Like how Zharo had named all the children on the Brackish after bugs.
Liesl made a soft, despairing sound. Amaya’s heart leaped into her throat, wondering if Adrienne wasn’t here, if maybe she really was on a different ship, or if these conditions had sent her to an early grave.
But her fears were sent scattering as Liesl hurried to a hammock where a young woman was sleeping. She was about Amaya’s age, her chestnut hair curling close against her scalp. Her frame was broad yet her skin was loose, as if she had lost a lot of weight in a short period of time.
Liesl’s hands shook as she reached for her sister. At the first touch, Adrienne woke with her mouth open, ready to scream or fight. Liesl pressed her palm against her mouth, bringing her face in close.
“Ren, it’s me,” Liesl whispered.
Adrienne stared at her, breathing heavily against her sister’s hand. Her relieved cry was muffled against Liesl’s palm as tears escaped the corners of her eyes. They embraced each other and the hammock swayed dangerously, Adrienne’s back heaving as she tried to stifle her sobs.
“I’m so sorry,” Liesl whispered, cradling the back of her sister’s head as her cheeks shone with tears. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you.”
Adrienne pulled back and wiped at her eyes. “Liesl.” Her voice was high and scratchy. “You’re here to get me out?”
“No, I’m here to throw a party,” Liesl snapped, or tried to; her words were still soft with affection. “Of course I am.”
Adrienne bit her chapped lower lip and looked around at the other hammocks. “I…”
Liesl’s hand tightened on her wrist. “We need to go before any of them wake up.”
But Amaya was already noticing a curious head pop up, no doubt woken by the whispering. “Liesl…”
“Adrienne, we have to go.”
But her sister crawled out of the hammock and stood defiant before her. She was taller than Liesl, and broader in the shoulder.
“I’m not leaving them,” Adrienne said, not bothering to lower her voice anymore. “They’re all suffering. If I abandon them, I’m no better than those like Basque.”
Liesl stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”
A girl nearby stirred and rubbed her eyes. “Adrienne? What’s wrong?”
Amaya’s stomach clenched as memories of the Water Bugs assaulted her. She thought back to the looks on their faces when she’d bought the Brackish with Boon’s false gold, the revelation that they were now free.
“We can do it,” Amaya said, stepping up to Liesl’s side.
“We don’t have time for this—”
“Think about how this will hurt Basque,” Amaya said. “Judging by the number of debtors, this must be one of his most lucrative ships. It’ll be a significant loss to his income.”
More and more people were waking and murmuring in confusion. Liesl’s eyes widened in panic, but Adrienne took her sister’s hands in hers.
“Please, Liesl,” she said.
Liesl sighed and looked toward the ceiling as if asking the star saints for assistance. “You know I can’t say no to you. This is why you’re spoiled.”
Adrienne grinned and turned to the others. As she explained what was happening, Liesl focused her glare on Amaya.
“If we end up on the Sinner’s Shelf, my ghost is going to haunt yours,” Liesl growled.
“We’ve freed
a debtor ship before,” Amaya reminded her. “We can do it again.”
And truthfully, she wanted to do it again, and again, until no more debtor ships roamed the Southerly Sea. The realization staggered her, this different form of vengeance she hadn’t thought of before now.
“What’s going on in here?”
The voice shot across the cabin, making the others cry out in alarm as Amaya instinctively reached for a knife. The figure of a stocky woman filled the open doorway, glowering at the prisoners.
“Who did this?” the captain barked, pointing at the picked lock with a sawed-off shotgun. “I’m gonna string you all up one by one unless someone comes forward!”
But Amaya was already slipping through the crowd of prisoners. When the captain noticed her, the woman’s sickening grin was replaced with confusion. She swung the shotgun at Amaya the same time Amaya flung one of her knives.
The woman yelled as the knife embedded itself in her side, firing the gun as Amaya dove to the floor. But the aim went high, blowing a hole through the ceiling as the prisoners screamed.
“Restrain her!” Adrienne ordered, her voice carrying over the commotion as if she’d been born for command, just like her sister.
Several of the prisoners leaped forward and grabbed at the captain’s arms. One wrestled the shotgun away as the captain thrashed and cursed, getting blood all over the floor. As they began the difficult business of trussing her up, several more prisoners ran through the door, making the most of the distraction.
“Shit,” Liesl hissed. “If that shot didn’t alert someone, runaways certainly will.”
“We can’t worry about it now,” Adrienne said. “We need to get this ship into open water.” She then looked at Amaya. “Thanks for the knife. Are you my sister’s lover?”
Amaya blinked as Liesl snorted.
“My lover’s up there,” Liesl said, pointing at the ceiling. “Or there, rather.” Her finger moved to the open doorway where Deadshot had appeared, no doubt drawn by the gunshot.
Adrienne’s face lit up. “Look at those muscles.”
“Yes, I’m quite fond of them.” Liesl shoved her sister forward. “But we really have to move.”
