Flames flickered on the candlesticks in the breeze, the white wax dripping down and landing like raindrops on the deck between us. Auster set an entire roasted goose in the middle of our makeshift table, and Willa clapped her hands, whistling out into the night.
The crisp, golden skin still sizzled as she reached forward with a piece of torn bread, soaking it into the juices pooling in the bottom of the tray. Baked plums simmered in cinnamon honey steamed inside the bowl in front of me beside a slab of pungent cheese and a row of smoked pork pies with flaking crusts. Paj had even gone to the gambit to buy a set of hand-painted porcelain plates and real silver cutlery. Everything was laid out under the night sky that glittered with starlight above us.
The smell made my mouth water, the hollow in my stomach aching as we all watched Auster carve into the goose and set two medallions on my plate. Paj poured the rye, filling my cup until it overflowed onto the deck, and I fished two plums from the crock.
West sat beside me, tearing the round of bread and setting a piece into my hand. His fingers touched my palm and that same flash of heat reignited inside me, but he kept his eyes down, reaching across the table for the bottle of rye.
“I’d like to make a toast.” Willa raised her glass into the air, and the candlelight made it glow like an enormous, glistening emerald in her hand. “To our bad luck charm!”
I laughed as every glass raised to meet hers, and they shot down the rye in one simultaneous gulp. Willa slapped the deck beside her, her eyes
watering, and I broke a piece of cheese off the hunk in my hand and threw it at her. She leaned back, catching it in her mouth, and the crew cheered.
They hovered over their plates, laughing between bites, and not ever using the finely engraved knives and spoons beside their plates. The sound of the wind grazed the drawn sails, and I looked down at my plate, picking at the buttery crust of a pie and putting a small bite into my mouth.
I wanted to stop time and stay there, with the sound of Hamish singing and the sight of Willa smiling. Auster wound his pale fingers into Paj’s before he brought his hand to his lips and kissed it. Side by side, they were coal and ash. Onyx and bone.
Willa pushed another filled glass toward me and looked up to the sail flying over the bow. The white canvas bearing the crest of the Marigold fluttered and curled in the soft wind.
“Why Marigold?” I asked, counting the points of the star. “Why is she named Marigold?”
Willa’s eyes flitted to West, who stiffened beside me. The others continued chewing, as if they didn’t hear the question.
“What do you think he’ll say? When you pay the debt?” Hamish changed the subject, looking at West over the greasy bone clutched in his hands.
“I don’t know.” West’s voice was rough with the weariness that pulled at his face as he stared into the candle flame. The saltwater from diving in the Snare had dried in his twisting hair.
We’d pulled it off. We’d made it to the Lark and filled the coffers with coin, but he was worried.
He was probably right to be. Saint would never see it coming, and there was no telling what he’d do. The man who was always three steps ahead would lose a shadow ship and an entire crew in the span of a moment that he hadn’t predicted. And there was nothing he hated more than losing control. The only thing we could count on was the fact that Saint was a man of his word. He’d cut the Marigold loose before he broke a deal, but he wouldn’t forget. And there would be a price to pay.
West drained his glass before he stood, and I watched him disappear down the ladder to the main deck.
The sound of the crew’s voices rang out over the quiet harbor, and the lanterns on the other ships went out one by one, leaving us with only the dim glow of our little candles until their flames were extinguished in the clear melted wax. Hamish picked over the goose carcass for the last of the meat, and Willa lay back, her arms stretched out around her like she was floating on the surface of the water. She looked up to the sky, and in another moment, her eyes were closed.
Hamish threw the last bone into the tray, getting to his feet. “I’ll take first watch.”
Paj and Auster climbed up into the netting of the jib, curling up together, and I followed Hamish down the ladder. Before us, Dern was silent, the smoke from the three chimneys of the tavern catching the moonlight as it rose up into the sky.
I stopped before the archway, where the light from West’s quarters was coming through his open door. His shadow was painted onto the deck, the angles of his face touching the wood planks beside my feet. I hesitated, one hand on the opening to the passageway, before I walked with quiet steps into the breezeway and peered inside.
He stood over his desk, an open bottle of rye and an empty glass on the parchment before him.
I knocked lightly, and he looked up, straightening when I pushed the door open.
“You’re worried,” I said, stepping into the light.
He stared at me for a long moment before he came around the desk to face me. “I am.”
“Saint made a deal, West. He’ll keep it.” “That’s not what I’m worried about.” “Then what?”
He seemed to think about how to say it before he spoke. “Things are changing in the Narrows. In the end, it might be better to have him on our side.”
“But you’ll never be free.”
“I know,” he said softly, pushing his hands into his pockets. He suddenly looked so much younger. For a moment, I could see him running along the
docks of Ceros like the children we’d seen in Waterside. “But also … I think I’ll always feel like I owe him. Even if I pay the debt.”
I tried not to look surprised by the admission, but I understood that feeling. We weren’t supposed to owe anyone anything, but that was just a lie we told to make ourselves feel safe. Really, we’d never been safe. And we never would be.
“Marigold was my sister,” he said suddenly, picking up the white stone that sat at the corner of his desk.
“What?” The word was only a breath.
“Willa and I had a sister named Marigold. She was four years old when she died, while I was out at sea.” His voice grew timid. Apprehensive.
“How? What happened?”
“Whatever sickness that kills off half the people on Waterside.” He leaned back onto the desk, his hands clamped down over the edge. “When Saint gave me the ship, he let me name her.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
That was what West meant when he said that Willa had better chances on a ship than in Waterside. It was the reason he’d risked both their lives hiding her in the cargo hold, hoping the helmsman would take her on.
The weight of the silence grew in the small room, making me feel like I was sinking into the floor. He wasn’t just telling me about his sister. There was something else beneath the words.
“I’ve pocketed on Saint’s ledgers from the first day I started sailing under his crest, but I’ve never lied to him.”
“What?” I tried to read him, confused.
“The last time we were in Sowan, I set fire to a merchant’s warehouse on Saint’s orders. He was a good man, but he was making another trading outfit rich, so Saint needed him to stop supplying. He lost everything.”
I took a step backward, watching him. “What is this? What are you doing?”
“I’m answering your questions,” he said.
I held my breath as his eyes lifted to meet mine, so green that they could have been carved from serpentine.
He set the stone back down and stood up from his desk. “What else do you want to know?”
“Don’t.” I shook my head. “The moment you tell me anything, you’re going to be afraid of me.”
“I’m already afraid of you.” He took a step toward me. “The first helmsman I ever crewed for used to beat me in the hull of the ship. I caught and ate rats to survive because he didn’t feed Waterside strays who worked for him. The ring you traded for the dagger belonged to my mother. She gave it to me the first time I went to sea. I stole bread from a dying man for Willa when we were starving on Waterside and told her that a baker gave it to me because I was scared she wouldn’t eat it. The guilt of it has never left me even though I would do it again. And again. The only thing I know about my father is that his name might be Henrik. I’ve killed sixteen men, protecting myself or my family, or my crew.”
“West, stop.”
“And I think I’ve loved you since the first time we anchored in Jeval.” He grinned suddenly, staring at the floor, and a bit of red bloomed on his skin, creeping up out of the collar of his shirt.
“What?” The breath hitched in my chest.
But his smile turned sad. “I have thought about you every single day since that day. Maybe every hour. I’ve counted down the days to go back to the island, and I pushed us into storms I shouldn’t have because I didn’t want to not be there when you woke up. I didn’t want you to wait for me. Ever. Or to think I wasn’t coming back.” He paused. “I struck the deal with Saint because I wanted the ship, but I kept it because of you. When you got off the Marigold in Ceros and I didn’t know if I would ever see you again, I thought … I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
I bit down on my bottom lip so hard that my eyes watered and the vision of him wavered before me.
“The only thing I feel truly afraid of is something happening to you.”
This wasn’t just enough of the truth to be believable. It was whole and naked, a first spring bloom waiting to wither in the sun.
“I kissed you because I’ve thought about kissing you for the last two years. I thought that if I just…” He didn’t finish. “We can’t do this by the
rules, Fable. No secrets.” He stared at me.
“But in Ceros, you said…” The words trailed off.
“I underestimated my ability to be on this ship with you and not touch you.”
I stared at him, hot tears rolling down my cheeks as he lifted a hand between us, his palm open before me. I lifted mine to meet his, and his fingers closed between mine.
He was opening a door that we wouldn’t be able to get closed again. And he was waiting to see if I was going to walk through it.
What he was saying—the things he told me—was his way of showing me he trusted me. It was also his way of giving me the match. If I wanted to, I could burn him down. But if we were going to do this, I would have to be his safe harbor and he would have to be mine.
“I’m not going to take anything from you, West,” I whispered. He let out a long breath, his hand squeezing mine. “I know that.”
I lifted onto my toes, pressing my mouth to his, and the boiling heat that had flooded into me underwater found me again, racing beneath every inch of my skin. The smell of rye and saltwater and sun poured into my lungs, and I drank it in like the first desperate sip of air after a dive.
His hands found my hips, and he walked me back until my legs hit the side of the bed. I opened his jacket and pushed it from his shoulders before he laid me down beneath him. His weight pressed down on top of me and I arched my back as his hands caught my legs and pulled them up around him.
I closed my eyes and tears rolled down my temples, disappearing into my hair. It was the way his skin felt against mine. It was the feeling of being held. I hadn’t been touched by another person in so long, and he was so beautiful to me in that moment that I felt as if my chest might crack open.
My head tipped back, and I pulled him closer so I could feel him against me. He groaned, his mouth pressed to my ear, and I tugged at the length of my shirt until I was pulling it over my head. He sat up, his eyes running over every inch of me and his breaths slowing.
I hooked my fingers into his belt, waiting for him to look at me. Because it was a wave that would retreat if I didn’t say it. It was a setting sun unless we could really trust each other.
The words wound tight in my throat, more tears sliding from the corners of my eyes. “Don’t lie to me and I won’t lie to you. Ever.”
And when he kissed me again, it was slow. It was pleading. The silence of the sea found us, my heartbeat quieting, and I painted each moment into my mind. The smell of him and the drag of his fingers down my back. The taste of salt when I kissed his shoulder and the slide of his lips down my throat.
Like light cast over the morning water, it became new. Every moment that lay ahead, like an uncharted sea.
This was a new beginning.
