Page 31 of The Space Between Stars

She ignored him, focusing instead on the fastest flowing threads of her Luck to continue her sabotage of his display. The pull of magic was like a current, a delightful one she’d bathe in all day, had she the mental fortitude to hold on to it. She was lined up to fire again when she felt something else she was not actively seeking.

Behind her.

With a gasp, Fankalo spun and aimed into the ocean, past the stern. The feeling pressed against her like a wall. It was all-encompassing—like the day of the Kaidechi scourge.

Bad Luck.

Sunlight glittered off the water so brilliantly she was forced to pull her hat lower over her eyes. Something was out there, and she didn’t want it to come any closer.

Fankalo unlatched the tanka from her forearm, letting it slump hastily to the deck.

“Thank you,” she said to Mikek. “I need to go find the captain.”

He beat the tips of his fingers together, his mouth open, looking not unlike a dead fish. “Hang on!”

She paid him no heed. The bad Luck pressed around her like a weighted shawl, and she didn’t think she had very much time.

Fankalo rapped her knuckles against the door to the navigation room, then pushed her way in before permission was given, a confident swell in her chest. She had learned quickly of her status, at least in the captain’s eyes, aboard this ship. To him, she was a gift from the Fates: more divine than human. She hardly required permission to do anything.

Her father sat in a leather armchair across a desk from his sullen quartermaster, Gelhard. The quartermaster was thin in every sense of the word: spiderlike limbs, wraithlike hair, and a temper you could see clean through. His reedy voice dripped with self-importance. “The paperwork was just signed off this morning. Spices are difficult, but it will look as though we procured them from one of my affiliate merchants in Chira’na. I have them registered for delivery in Casowhatan.”

Fankalo cleared her throat, and their conversation faltered. Her father’s dark eyes lit like tiny suns; his warm mouth pulled into a smile. She climbed into his lap, draping her arms around his neck. As she did so, she caught sight of the scowl on Gelhard’s face. It was hard to forget that he had tried to convince her father to leave her in Kaidech’s ashes.

“Father, something ill moves in the east,” she whispered.

He was quick to cue in to her inklings by now. She had explained how she’d survived the Kaidechi scourge.

Gelhard’s mouth pinched. He alone among the crew acted the part of skeptic. “We’ve just left Cundulen territory,” he said. “If I had to put my money on it, I’d bet ‘something ill’ to be that damn Pazirian charter we intercepted from Tera’thu.”

Fankalo’s brow lowered. That was the spice ship she’d guided her father to for their latest heist. It was good Luck, she’d told him. She had been right. The cargo was worth millions.

Her father snorted. “Those spices were worth about as much as millet to them. As if they’d hold enough of a vendetta to attack the Rogue’s Respite this far southwest. That would take some major bronze.”

“You did leave the crew stark naked.”

Fankalo had heard that, in addition to being wildly rich, Pazirians were hyperfixated on decency—Mitek had referred to them as “the prudes”.

“It was funny.”

Gelhard’s mouth twisted. “They were a full fortnight from Pazir in winter. I dare say they wouldn’t agree.”

“Well, let’s see then. You’ll show us the way, lad?” Her father tilted his head toward her.

Fankalo nodded, eager to be free of the way the jerky spun in her stomach.

They exited the navigation room onto the quarterdeck. The breeze seemed to have picked up in the sparse minutes since her tanka practice with Mitek, and the mizzencourse rippled loudly overhead. Fankalo moved to the rail and pointed southeast toward the horizon. Gelhard grumbled under his breath as he pulled a telescope from his belt and peered through it. When the corners of his mouth drew downward, Fankalo felt a rise of satisfaction.

“Fuck me,” he said.

“What is it?” her father asked.

“Well—” Gelhard paused, cleaned the lens of the scope on his tunic, pressed it back against his eye, and adjusted the gear. “It’s certainly a ship, heading toward us.”

“What’s it flying?”

Gelhard offered an amused grunt. “Give it a few minutes to catch up, eah? We’ll see.”

“A few minutes to… Are you listening to yourself?”