I felt her pull away from me as I walked out of Griff’s tavern, leaving the necklace behind. That feeling of Isolde’s presence had followed me like a ghost in the air since I’d taken it from Saint’s post.
Paj tied two full coin purses to my hips, knotting the leather around my belt. “Once we start walking, you don’t stop.”
I nodded, fastening the buckle tighter so the weight didn’t pull it loose. “You don’t stop,” he said again, waiting for me to look up at him.
“I understand.”
Behind him, Willa stood in the shadow of the alley, watching the street. Saint’s coin master showed up in the middle of the night with the copper, escorted by two men carrying knives in both hands. They’d watched me with narrowed eyes as I signed the parchment in my room at the tavern, but neither of them said a word. If they worked for my father, they knew not to ask questions.
Hamish urged us to make the deal with the sailmaker first and not risk carrying any copper through the city, but West thought our chances were better at getting him to take the commission if he saw all that coin with his own eyes.
There’s no persuasion like the shine of copper, he’d said.
“We’ll get you to the doors and we’ll wait outside.” Auster checked the purses again.
“You’re not going in with us?” I looked between him and Paj. I didn’t like the idea of being in the sailmaker’s loft with so much coin and only Willa to raise a blade against anyone who tried to take it.
“Tinny doesn’t like us much.” Paj smirked, leaning into the wall beside Auster.
“Why not?”
“He doesn’t do business with Saltbloods.”
My eyes widened, looking between the two of them. “You said you’re from Waterside.” My gaze landed on Paj.
He went a little rigid, perhaps uncomfortable with Auster telling me something about them that was true.
But Auster didn’t seem bothered. “We were born in Bastian.”
The gleaming, wealthy city on the shores of the Unnamed Sea was also the place my mother was born. It was rare to meet anyone who’d taken up the life of the Narrows if they’d had one in a place like Bastian. The only people who did were running from something.
There was more to whatever story had brought them here. And I didn’t miss what Auster was doing by telling me. He was giving me just a little bit of trust to see what I’d do with it.
“Time to go,” Willa said, looking over her shoulder.
I closed up my jacket as Auster and Paj took their places at either side of me.
Willa pulled the dagger from her belt. “Ready?” I nodded in answer.
She stepped out onto the street, and I followed, walking in step with Auster and Paj, who stayed close enough to hide me between them.
The sailmaker’s loft was one of twelve piers that reached out over the water on the east side of Ceros. The framed glass windows spanned an entire side of the building, overlooking the city. The red brick was covered in thick green moss, the mortar crumbling. I walked with my hands in my pockets, my fingers curling around the heavy purses to keep them from jingling.
I didn’t miss the way everyone who passed us took a long look at Willa’s scarred face, but she kept her head up, as if she didn’t notice. I hadn’t seen her try to cover the scar once, and I wondered if it was of use to her now, letting the Narrows know that she’d seen her share of its brutality. It wasn’t
uncommon for women to crew ships, but they were definitely outnumbered. And the softer you looked, the more likely you were to become prey.
By now, word about the Marigold and West would have travelled to the other traders. The feud with Zola had turned into something more—a war— and it was obvious to anyone paying attention that the crew was bleeding out. But no one knew anything about the girl from Jeval who’d fleeced Saint for coin to save the ship.
We reached the steps of the pier, and Auster took a position on the side of the building with a good vantage point, pulling a pipe from his pocket. Paj followed, slipping his hands into his vest. They both watched from the corners of their eyes as Willa pulled the huge iron doors open and we stepped inside the sail loft, where the light from the windows lit the bottom floor.
A maze of folded canvas in every size and thickness was stacked covering the floor so that only a stairway was visible ahead. Along the wall beside the door, finished orders were packaged and ready for the merchant’s house, wrapped in brown paper with the names of ships scrawled across them.
A man’s bald head popped up from a curtain of canvas, watching us as we climbed the stairs that led to the second floor. It was one big, open room where the sailcloth was laid out, cut, and constructed by hand. The windows let in the light from every direction, and the billowing white fabric covered every inch of the floor, where apprentices sat nested with their wooden tool boxes. Ropes strung with shining grommets hung from the ceiling above them like chains of silver.
“Tinny!” Willa called out, and a man appeared from behind a stack of crates on the other side of the loft.
His eyes widened, his mustache bouncing as he mumbled a curse. “Oh, no you don’t. Not a chance, Willa!”
The apprentices scrambled to pull the canvas back, clearing a path before she could step on the sails as she marched toward Tinny.
“Not in a million years!” He shook his head, driving the pointed end of a fid into the corner of the sail in his hand. He twisted it, widening the hole, and the light reflected off his ring. The rust-colored carnelian stone was set
into a thick silver band stamped with the seal of Ceros, identifying him as a certified merchant by the Sailmakers Guild. Everyone in the loft worked beneath him, putting in their years of apprenticeship in hopes of one day getting their own ring. “There’s not a sailmaker in Ceros who’s going to outfit the Marigold, so there’s no point in even asking.”
“Zola’s been here?” Willa set a hand on the window beside him, leaning into it.
“He’s been everywhere.”
Willa met my eyes behind his back. Hamish and West had been right. Tinny took a grommet from his apron and fit it into the hole he’d made.
“No one needs a fight with the Luna’s crew, all right? Zola may not be the fleet he once was, but he fights dirty. I’m sorry for what happened to the Marigold.” His eyes lifted, running over Willa’s face. “And I’m sorry about what happened to you and West. I don’t know what you did to catch the eye of a sea demon like Zola, but I don’t need the business bad enough to cross him.”
Behind us, one of the younger apprentices sat listening as he pulled his needle along the tight stitching, his eyes going to the shape of the purses beneath my jacket.
“We’ve always done right by you, Tinny,” Willa said. “We’ve always paid fair.”
“I know that. But like I said…” He sighed. “You’ll have better chances in Sowan. If Zola doesn’t get there first.”
She glared at him, but he wasn’t budging. “And how do you suggest we get to Sowan with no sails?”
“Look, I shouldn’t even be seen talking to you.” His eyes lifted to the loft behind us. “People talk.”
“We have coin. A lot of it.” Willa dropped her voice low. “We’re willing to pay twice what the sails would normally cost.”
Tinny’s hands stilled for just a moment as he looked up at her. “Show him,” she said, meeting my eyes.
I stepped behind the crates and unbuttoned my jacket, opening it up to reveal the two full purses.
The set of Tinny’s mouth wavered, the thoughts racing over his face. He shifted on his feet, glancing out the window. He was tempted, but I could see before he even opened his mouth to speak that he wasn’t going to risk his neck, no matter how much coin we gave him. “I’m sorry, Willa.” He turned away from us, working the fid into the next corner.
“Traitorous bastards,” Willa muttered as she walked back out into the loft. The apprentices gathered up the canvas in her path again, but she didn’t slow, the soles of her boots striking the floor like a heavy heartbeat.
“Someone in this city has got to want eight hundred coppers,” I said, following her down the stairs to the door.
“If anyone was going to do it, it would have been Tinny.”
Paj stood up off the wall as we pushed through the doors. “That was fast.”
“He won’t do it.” Willa groaned, setting her hands on her hips and looking out to the crowded street.
Auster pulled a long drag off of his pipe, blowing the smoke through his nostrils. A mischievous smile was playing at his lips.
Paj studied him. “Don’t even think about it.”
Auster didn’t say a word as he rocked back on his heels. “What is it?” I eyed him.
“We might know someone who will do it,” he said, avoiding Paj’s gaze. I looked from Paj, to Auster, and back again. “Who?”
“We’re not going to Leo.” Paj glared at him. “Who’s Leo?” Willa was growing impatient.
“Someone we know from the old days. He’ll do it,” Auster answered. But Paj didn’t look like he was going to give in.
“No one would ever find out. In a way, it’s safer.” Auster shrugged. “How do you know no one would find out?” Willa looked between them. “Because this sailmaker isn’t supposed to exist.”
“Don’t you think you should have mentioned that before we went in there and started rumors about the crew of the Marigold going to Tinny for sails?” Willa’s voice rose.
Paj sighed. “It’s kind of a last resort.”
“That sounds about right,” I said, turning on my heel. “Let’s go.”
