Page 27

“No, you shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’d like to stab one of us when you lose your temper, and I don’t want blood on my ship,” Ren points out. “You have a bad attitude and make poor decisions at times.”

He holds his hand out and waits. I slam the dagger through his fingers so it implants in the table, and he grins at me.

“You’re just a dickhead!” I shout at him before walking away, hearing his boisterous laugh along with Chaos as I continue getting as far away as possible. I hate him. I hate them both, and I can’t wait for this hell to be over and done with. I shake my head, wondering why I even bother with him at all. And thinking about Ren? That is a stupid, reckless thing to do. Men are trouble, plain and simple, and the kind of trouble I do not need in my life at this moment in time. The map is all that is important, not Ren, not the infuriating pirate.

I walk straight up to the top of the deck, letting the sea breeze blow against me like it might cool down my temper. The sun is setting fast, just as fast as the wind has been all day, blowing my dark hair around me. I walk up the steps and to the front of the ship to sit on the bench there, above the silver dragon figurehead that glimmers in the fading light. It’s not a spectacular sunset tonight; it’s nothing but the yellow sun dying, the orange light barely bright, and the wind whipping the clouds fast across the sky to cover it too often.

Wyatt leans on the wall next to the bench. “You had dinner, Miry?” he grumbles. “I was given too many jobs today to get to dinner, and it will be leftovers for me again.”

“It’s not like there’s not an abundance of food here for you to have leftovers from. I’m sure you will survive,” I mutter. I’m not in the mood for his complaining.

“It’s ridiculous.” He nods. “There’s more food on that table than there is even at my parents’ house on any given day.”

He’s still complaining.

“Wyatt, do you think we’re friends?” I plainly ask him.

“I don’t know exactly what we are. I was hoping coming on this ship has earned me somewhat of a friendship with you, and everything that’s happened between us in the past at least makes you trust me. I never hurt you or did you wrong.” He shrugs.

“You realize I was starving at home, right?” I wave a hand below. “And you’re complaining about too much food here, when you never went hungry. You don’t know what it feels like to panic about passing out from hunger because you spent all your gold on a new firelighter for warmth, so there wasn’t anything left for food. Rowe and I were starving. Your parents barely paid me anything, and I worked literally all day, and then I went thieving at night to barely scrape by. You know how hard I had to work, how many late nights of literally no sleep before I came to your house to work?”

I know I’m spiraling, but I can’t stop. “I risked my life more than once with Odessa to save money for this chance. To make sure there’s enough money that Rowe can survive until I get back. I’m mad that you never realized any of it because you lived a spoiled life.”

He winces but says nothing.

“You are complaining about working longer to me? Really, Wyatt?” I shake my head. “The amount of food on that table could have lasted us months. I hate it every time I see it because I know that they have a lot of food here, and money, and gold, and Rowe wouldn’t believe half the things I’ve already seen. I worry every day that I might not even be able to tell him. You say we are friends, but it’s not true. You only saw what you wanted in me—and not really me. You shouldn’t be on this ship. If you knew me at all, you would know I didn’t need saving.”

“Miry—”

“Stop calling me that nickname. Rowe called me that. Friends call me that,” I snap. “You should be back in your spoiled life where you’ll marry someone equally spoiled and become exactly what your parents are. You will hire someone like me from the Stilts to come and clean your house and clean up after your children. You’ll pay them barely anything, while they starve and you look the other way. But it’s worse for you because you didn’t just look the other way; you had sex with me. You became my friend, you knew me, and you still didn’t see the truth.” I turn back to the sea. “Go and complain to someone else.”

“I’m sorry.” He sits down on the bench, his shoulders hunched, and he looks at the sea too. “I wasn’t looking, maybe because I just chose not to and maybe just because I couldn’t. I do want to be your friend, and I want to change the parts of me I’m ashamed of. That begins with being here, helping you however I can, and getting you back to Rowe. I should have stepped in, fought my parents for better pay.”

He clears his throat. “Not everything was easy for me too. My parents, they restricted every bit of gold that came into that house, and my life too. It may have looked like me and my sister had everything, but everything was given by them, and they made sure we understood where it came from and that our lives were owed to them. You say I was destined for life like my parents, but that was my greatest fear. I signed up for the army to get away from the island, and what I saw there made me come back, even if it meant letting my parents turn me into them.” He stands up. “I am sorry I was ignorant.”

I watch him walk away, wondering what he saw in the army that scared him enough that he came back.

Chapter

Thirteen

I’m not used to the heat and how the sun is roasting my skin. I’m not used to the sun pouring down on my neck, but I actually love it. The cold weather I grew up with never changed, never felt like this, and it’s so freeing to just be able to stand outside without a cloak covering me up. My skin glistens from the heat and sweat of training with Ren, but it doesn’t burn, thanks to Clark’s healing tonics. Freckles weather-adapted clothes are tight against me, the buttoned vest and leggings that stop at my knees are comforting to wear.

The sea air smells sweet this morning, and the birds are whistling loudly. Tracker taught me that, when there are birds, there is land nearby and I should expect to see land soon. It’s one of the only things I understand when he talks about the sea or how his power can move us through the currents.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead, which is mostly from heat and not from the fight. I’m glad the miserable storms and the icy cold are far behind us—even if I miss Rowe and know he is there. Rowe would love this weather. Would it help with his illness? I don’t know exactly, but I bet kids like Rowe live a little longer in weather this nice. I glance at the sea, which is tranquil, pretty and glittering blue like my opponent’s eyes. I only have to look at the sea to be reminded of him now. I’m not sure what to make of that.

Ren has a light-gray vest hanging off his chest, but it is so loose that I can see every muscle, every bit of his flat and toned stomach. I swear he wears next to nothing like this to distract me, and it’s not fair. His muscles are sweaty, and somehow that is more appealing. Ren leans down to pick up his towel, drawing attention to how his tight black pants fit him like a glove. He wipes sweat off his face before chucking the towel away. He might be a little sweaty from training, but it’s clear he is used to this weather. Everyone on board seems more relaxed in the sun—even Chaos.

“Is it warm where you grew up?” I question Ren. “You don’t talk about home much.”

“Neither do you,” he points out. “But yes and no. The weather changes swiftly. We have seasons there that last for a quarter of the year before changing to a new season. Two of the seasons are like this, warm and breezy. The other two are not. We have a winter season that is like your home, and the small part of the year that it’s there is enough for me.”

“Must be nice to know the weather will change. It never did at home. It was always cold,” I mutter, putting my hands on my hips.