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“No.”
“A pirate at sea has a peg leg, a hook for a hand, and an eye patch. One of his companions asks him how he lost his leg.”
“Please stop,” Kearan begs.
“He answers, ‘A cannonball.’ Then his companion asks how he lost his hand. He answers, ‘A sword.’”
“Enwen, I will knock you unconscious,” Kearan threatens, but I can tell he doesn’t have the energy to carry it out.
“When the companion asks how he lost his eye, the man says, ‘A spray of the sea.’”
Kearan stares at Enwen. “That doesn’t even make any sense.”
“It was his first day with the hook.”
Kearan groans and leans his head down on the table.
I grin at the two of them, if only to mask the guilt building within my chest. I wish my abilities included extracting salt from water.
Across the galley, only one other duo is seated: Wallov and Roslyn. Roslyn upturns her cup over her mouth, trying to get the last drops. She sets the cup down, looks at her father, whispers something to him.
He hands her his own cup.
I stand so quickly the bench behind me tips over.
“Wallov,” I say, perhaps too sharply, “don’t.”
Kearan and Enwen’s bickering instantly quiets, their attention now drawn to the scene I’m making.
“She’s so thirsty, Captain,” Wallov says.
“We’re all thirsty. But no one will die under the current rationing. If you start giving your shares to her, youwilldie. She won’t thank you then.”
I turn my attention to little Roslyn next. “You are never to accept his portions. Do you understand? It will be hard, and your throat and belly will hurt, but you will lose your papa if you take his water.”
She swallows, never breaking eye contact with me. “I understand, Captain. He won’t hear any complaints from me again.”
Such conviction from someone so small. I believe her.
“We’ll be upon that island soon,” I say. “Then we can all drink our fill.”
The two nod at me.
When I take my empty plate and cup up to Trianne, I tell her, “You watch those two.”
“Aye, Captain.”
I’m still thinking over the exchange when I get back up top. I’m forcing a father to watch his daughter wilt away in front of him.
Niridia rushes to me, pulling me from my thoughts. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“We can see them now.”
My gaze turns toward the horizon behind us, where that brown line is darker than ever. From the crow’s nest, one can see miles farther than on the deck. If I can see the fleet now with my naked eye—
“He’s taunting us,” I bite out. Keeping himself in our sights,now. He’ll keep at it for days if he wants. Not drawing closer, just invoking fear.
