William paused for a second, halfway down, and glanced up into her face. He shook his head.
Rune nodded, lowering her gaze to the next stair, and continued down.
Why would he lie?
But Gideon had lied from the start: pretending to be in love with her to catch the Crimson Moth.
At the bottom, Rune stepped off the staircase to find herself facing a row of black boilers, their glowing red mouths opening and closing as stokers shoveled coal into them.
“Try to stay out of the way,” William said as he pressed his hand to the small of Rune’s back, guiding her past the sweaty, coal-stained men keeping the fires aglow.
The alley between the bulkhead and the boilers was piled with coal at the edges, and overhead ran the steel catwalk they’d walked down only moments ago.
How many levels down are we?she wondered, staring up through the maze of ladders and pipework.
Rune was no stranger to ships—she’d inherited her grandmother’s shipping business. But Nan’s ships were wind powered. Nothing compared to this.
For a moment, she forgot about Gideon and Abbie and the knot in her chest, marveling instead at the activity teeming around her. Here she was, walking through the heart of a massive machine kept afloat by hundreds of thousands of parts, all of which were kept running by people who worked around the clock.
She’d never felt so small and insignificant.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” William yelled as they walked.
She gave him a smile, even as she began to worry. Because beneath her silk gloves, Rune’s hands had started to sweat.
She needed to be careful. There was a spellmark drawn in blood on her thigh, keeping her disguised. If her skin grew too damp, the mark could smudge and the illusion would evaporate, leaving her exposed.
Rune couldn’t stay down here long.
“What else is down here?” she asked.
“There’s a cargo hold on this level,” said William, ducking out of the way of the fire stokers. “It’s on the far side of the boilers.”
A cargo hold.
Rune tried to contain her excitement.
It was exactly what she was hoping for. If she could look inside—a long shot, since the ship’s holds were likely locked—she could determine if there was room to smuggle a few witches.
“Is it the only one? Or are there others?” Worried that her questions might arouse suspicion, she added: “My grandmother used to own a shipping company. I’mfascinatedby ships.”
He smiled, indulging her. “There are other holds, but they can only be accessed from outside.”
At the end of the row of boilers, they turned to enter a small walkway leading to the next stokehold.
A trickle of sweat ran down Rune’s spine. She needed to get out of here, and soon.
“When do they load them?” It was one thing she’d need to know: when staff entered and exited the holds.
“A few hours before departure. They seal them after the witch-hunting hounds check the luggage.”
Rune frowned. “Seal them as in… lock them? With a key?”
“Seal them with hatches,” he said. “Which are bolted and caulked.”
Well.Thatwas unfortunate. Rune could unlock a door with magic, but she couldn’t unbolt a hatch without people noticing.
“The hold on this level is only used for coal and ship supplies, though. So it isn’t bolted.” To Rune’s surprise, he took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. “Should we investigate? Or would you rather return to your husband?”
