“Did I… say anything?” Her voice sounded strained in her ears. “Or… do anything?”
She winced at the thought.
Please tell me I didn’t embarrass myself!
For the merest beat of a heart, Gideon hesitated. Then shook his head. He pushed himself to the bed’s edge, where she heard him pour something.
“Here.” He handed her a glass of water. “For your headache.”
Rune took it.
“I’m going back to sleep.”
She watched him move back to his side and lie down, facing away from her. The mattress was so small, if he sprawled on his back, he’d take up the whole bed.
Rune sipped at the water, head throbbing, not trusting herself to lie down. Or close her eyes.
When he’d fallen back to sleep, she got dressed and slipped from the room.
No more wine,she told herself.You’re officially done with alcohol. Forever.
TWENTYRUNE
RUNE SNUCK INTO THEfirst-class library, where the armchairs were plusher and more comfortable. She curled up in one and slept there until late morning, when the librarian arrived.
Afterward, Rune avoided their cabin, hoping that in doing so, she’d avoid Gideon, too. Instead, she explored the ship. Since theArcadiawas friendly to witches and Rune needed a seaworthy vessel to smuggle the sibyl, herself, and potentially the Roseblood heir out of the New Republic, she wanted to know if theArcadiacould be used for such a purpose.
They couldn’t board as passengers; they’d never get past the witch hunters and the hounds in port. But a ship as big as this one was bound to have multiple cargo holds, and if Rune managed to find one, or at least find out how and when they were loaded, it might be a way off the island.
She tried several times to get down to the ship’s lower levels. But dressed as she was, she couldn’t pass for staff, and every time she got beyond a door, a staff member would spot her and lead her back out again, thinking she was lost.
Rune considered using spells to unlock the doors, but that meant leaving a trail of bloody spellmarks and crimson moth signatures in her wake. Which would lead those two police officers straight to her.
By evening, she was no closer to her objective than she’d been that morning.
She needed someone to get her past the doors. Someone who belonged on the other side, and would therefore help her blend in.
“I PROPOSE A NO-DRINKINGpolicy this evening,” said Gideon as they made their way to Deck C to meet Abbie and her friends. He wore Soren’s most casual suit and had left the jacket buttons undone.
“I’m never touching a drink again,” muttered Rune, shivering in the brisk air.
I should have brought a shawl.
Tomorrow, they would dock in the New Republic’s largest harbor. Which meant Rune had only tonight left to find a way down to the cargo holds. Her best chance was to endear herself to Abbie’s friends, who she assumed worked aboard theArcadia, and convince them to give her a tour of the lowest decks.
The moment they emerged into the open air, Rune heard the crack of a gun firing. Startled, she was reaching for Gideon’s arm, unsure what they were walking into, when the sound of shattering porcelain, followed by laughter, stopped her.
Huh?
As they turned the deck’s corner, she found the source of the shooting—and the laughter.
“Sharpe!” a young man in a red cap with his sleeves rolled to his elbows yelled across the deck. “I confess: I didn’t believe Abbie when she said you were aboard. Come to show her up?”
Beside the young man stood Abbie, her curls freed from their bun. She held a rifle aloft while another young woman across the deck threw a bone-white plate into the air.
BANG!
The plate shattered, its pieces dropping into the ocean.
