Page 92 of Tempest

Ana tapped her tooth again, making a ringing sound. “I do have another name, one I earned in your language.”

“And that is?”

“The Seawolf,” she said, hauling herself up the ladder.

With a will, Cat forced herself to follow. And tried not to linger on exactly what the nickname meant.

“I think I shall just call you Ana,” she murmured, climbing to the next deck.

Light streamed around the edges of the gun ports, now shut. But it was enough to illuminate the long stretch of cannons lining either side, all black and silent. They faced outwards to port and starboard, along the broad sides of the ship. The iron barrels were longer than a man, and thicker around, set on wheeled, wooden frames. Each looked like a horse in a stable, well-groomed and cared for, accompanied by neatly coiled rope and an ordered pile of iron shot. Down the line, the silhouette of a cabin boy swabbed out the interior of a barrel, using a rag on a stick. Another pirate, a grown man, examined a longer gun facing forwards, perpendicular to the rest.

Cat knew very little of guns and warfare but had seen enough in the last few hours. The cannons of the Covenant were not to be trifled with. Terrifying as they were, she forced herself to look anyway, her own silhouette a dark shape in the gleam of an iron barrel. Ana’s wavered next to her, loping along.

“Where are you from?” Cat asked, glancing sidelong at her. “I apologize, I do not know your accent.”

“I would not expect you to. You are still new to these waters, with most of your time spent on a single island, from what I hear,” Ana replied.

From what I hear. Cat blinked in the gloom, turning the words over. Only three men aboard knew anything of Lady Rose, and she doubted Fell or Ryman were sharing stories with Ana.

Somehow, the idea of Valerian speaking about her felt like a comfort, though she could not say why.

“I am of Arcayo,” Ana continued.

“Crownless,” Cat muttered without thought, drawing another smile from the she-pirate.

“Exactly. Crownless. No kings of ours, no kings of yours.” She had a proud look on her high-boned face.

“I admit, I cannot fathom such a thing.”

“I can’t fathom being a lady. I’d make a terrible one. Never did like to oblige.” Ana’s voice turned thoughtful. “But why should we?”

Cat wrenched her eyes away from a pile of cannonballs to glance at her escort.

“Survival, I suppose,” she said dryly.

Ana’s eyes narrowed, not in challenge, but confusion. “What have you ever had to survive?”

Cat’s first instinct was to soften, to go silent in the face of the question. Indeed, she was a lady of the Meridian and born to more than most, despite her own hardships. But it was hard to ignore her surroundings and the circumstances that brought her to Captain Kane’s ship. Not to mention Lord Rose himself, gagged and bound in the brig.

“Besides my loathsome husband, the Venerable exploding out from under me, and being taken captive by pirates?” Cat said evenly as they climbed the midship stairs, emerging out onto the main deck of the Covenant.

The light was nearly blinding, and Cat had to shield her eyes. But she heard Ana’s honeyed laughter.

“Obliging, but sharp,” Ana said over her shoulder. “You are a puzzle indeed.”

She slid along past her fellow crewmen, busying themselves mending sails and braiding rope, swabbing decks, stoning the timbers, and cleaning pistols. Cat remembered well enough from the crossing six months prior—to work a ship was to work endlessly. There was always some task to be done, but she was surprised to see pirates so diligent in their toil. Navy sailors and merchant crews were dutiful, of course. But she never pictured pirates sewing up shirts or cooking. It seemed far too mundane. Yet here they were, the men and few women of the Covenant, as dedicated to the ship as any law-abiding crew.

“The Captain always did like puzzles,” Ana said suddenly.

“He’s a puzzle himself, your captain,” Cat responded without thinking.

Ana grinned over her shoulder. “What do you mean by that, Kitten?”

Kitten. The term of endearment should have made her angry, but there was no insult to it, no sting. Nothing but Ana’s sharp-eyed curiosity and amusement.

“I mean he seems a pile of contradictions,” Cat answered, choosing her words carefully. “A Meridian man turned pirate. And he seems young for a captain. Not to mention all this business about the sea singing for you—”

“Ah, yes, I see. You’ve never met a believer before. But how would you?”