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“Then why did you stay with Draxen?”
“Who else is going to keep an eye on Kearan?”
“Some job you’re doing. Why don’t you keep him out of my cellar? I’m sick of seeing him throwing up over the side of my ship.”
“I was meaning his emotional well-being, Captain.”
“You can’t be serious. Kearan has the emotional depth of a clam.”
“Well, a man can try, can’t he? I wouldn’t be doing my job as his friend if I didn’t try.”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Kearan shouts from the other end of the ship. “We are not friends!”
“Yes, we are!” Enwen shouts back.
“Stop yelling,” I tell Enwen. “Sort it out yourselves. I have work to do.”
“Captain, wait!” A different voice this time. Little Roslyn’s. She intercepts me before I get a foot through the hatch. “I need to talk to you about having a celebration.”
“A celebration?”
“For getting the map and stealing the pirate lord’s treasure! Niridia said we couldn’t last night because you had to lock yourself in the brig for the night to let the siren out.”
“That’s true. And right now I have a prisoner to interrogate. How about tonight?”
“That works for me,” she says. As though she might have had an important appointment scheduled. “Can I help with the prisoner?”
“No.”
She crosses her arms, ready to argue.
“Have you practiced your letters today?”
She throws her head back and sighs angrily.
“No interrogating prisoners when you haven’t performed your own chores.” Not that I’d let her help anyway. She doesn’tneed to witness me torturing a man. “And no celebrating if you haven’t practiced.”
“Oh, all right,” she says, stomping off.
Wallov and Deros are playing cards in the brig when I get down there. Vordan has finally been let out of the cage, only to be placed into one of the brig cells instead. He’s unbound and ungagged, his back to us. Riden is two cells over, seated on the floor with his arms atop his knees. He doesn’t look at me.
Good.
“Your daughter is getting awfully cheeky, Wallov,” I say.
“Can’t imagine where she gets it from, Captain,” he says.
“I hope you’re not suggesting she’s getting it from me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. But his tone is too light to be sincere. I smile at him.
“You two are relieved for now,” I say. “I’ll keep an eye on the brig rats.”
They both scoot out of their chairs, starting for the stairs. “And see to it, Wallov, that Roslyn is actually practicing her writing and not threatening people with that dagger.”
“Isn’t it a beautiful piece of work, Captain? Won it off Deros in one of our games.”
Deros folds his massive arms. “I lost on purpose so the lass would have a way to protect herself.”
