Locke doesn’t touch me—a good thing, because I feel so brittle right now—on the verge of shattering.
He takes off my family ring, steps around me, and lays it on the pillow.
“I was wrong to compare our pain in that way,” he says quietly. “Your suffering is your own to endure, not mine to judge. Forgive me.”
He moves to the door. “Keep the coin and the ring. I’ll be in later.”
58
The rest of our voyage to Ravensbeck is uneventful. Locke and I share a bed, but both of us sidestep any sensitive topics, and he only touches me in a brief performative way when we’re on deck. Perhaps he’s afraid of making me feel too much like a whore. Perhaps I don’t trust myself not to behave like one when we’re alone together—so I keep my distance whenever we’re sharing space in the captain’s cabin.
The ship practically vibrates with the eagerness of everyone aboard as we near the pirate haven. On the final day of our approach, I stay out on deck, watching for any sign of land. My freckles will probably thicken even more under the blazing sun, but I don’t care. Locke likes my skin, and his opinion is the only one that matters, besides my own.
Around noon, the lookout warns, “Approaching the reefs,” and the pirates begin to scurry about the deck and rigging, shouting excitedly to one another. Dolomon manages the helm, taking us through the reefs, though I still can’t see any land yet.
An hour later, another shout from the crow’s nest sends my heart into my throat. “Land ho!” cries the lookout.
I press myself to the forecastle railing and squint into the sunny distance. Within moments I can see it—three distinct mountain peaks, like the central fingers of a giant hand. As we draw nearer, lower hills emerge into view, spreading out from those three mountains. It’s a big island, from what I can tell, cliff-bound and rocky.
It’s a good thing Dolomon is an excellent steersman, because the maze of reefs around the island is studded with partial shipwrecks in varying stages of decay. I suppose they’re sort of helpful as landposts, so he can navigate through the especially dangerous parts.
Ahead there’s a wall—a massive construction partly hewn from the natural rock protecting the cove, built higher with great stone blocks. It’s weathered and sun-beaten at the top, encrusted with barnacles and slick green seaweed along the bottom, splashed dark by the whip of the waves.
Hanschel aims for the single opening in that gigantic wall—a space large enough for two ships the size of theArdentto pass abreast. The gate is flanked by towers bristling with guns, each topped with the enormous ebony statue of a crowned raven.
Locke appears at my side, resplendent in a black coat with gold embroidery, wearing his crown. Scarlet ruffles peek from the collar of his coat.
“You put on a shirt,” I say.
He keeps looking straight ahead, but his mouth tweaks. “I did.”
I glance at my hand on the railing, where my family ring shines on my right thumb. “I thought you might slink back into Ravensbeck in disguise, and tell the men of theArdentto keep quiet. Then no one would ever know you were gone, and they wouldn’t suspect you’d left a double in charge.”
“I thought of that,” he said. “And I thought of having you dress as a boy again, to avoid any difficult questions. But then there would have been the matter of explaining why Captain Neelan was killed—and after thinking on it, I decided the truth was best.”
“But this means it’ll be harder for you to sneak aboard other ships and spy on their captains.”
“Yes. But my presence on this ship has had a significant effect. For a time, the story of what happened on theArdentshould be enough to keep my other captains in line. If any of them have considered breaking my laws, they’ll be more cautious about it for a while.”
“Must be exhausting, keeping up with such a large kingdom.” I’m only half-listening to him, half-conscious of what I’m saying, because the immensity of the towers is so breathtaking. They’re on either side of the ship now, raking the sky, dwarfing even a vessel as massive and glorious as theArdent. The tips of the ravens’ beaks gleam in the bright sun.
“Impressed?” Locke sounds pleased. “I have a stone mage in my employ. He has worked for me for years, and he’s responsible for much of the wall, and for those ravens.”
“Magic is rare in Ivris,” I reply. “It’s rare in all the mainland kingdoms. But in Ivris it’s rather frowned upon, because gods forbid anyone should step beyond the neatly drawn lines of society.” I shake my head. “Out here in the Shorn Seas, it seems a bit more common. Accepted.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s common, and many still fear those with magical abilities. As you know, I tend to be suspicious of other mages myself. That’s why, when I hire them, I keep them with me in Ravensbeck, not running about on the sea in ships. A few of the ships flying my flag do have mages aboard, but their powers are limited, and they’re usually helpful to the voyage. There’s one man who can shift currents—not strongly, mind you, but just enough to give a ship a nudge in the right direction when there’s no wind to be had.”
“Where do people learn how to use their abilities?” I ask. “Is there a central place, or do they have to find individual tutors, like the man you studied with?”
“I’ve heard rumors of a school for people with powers like ours, but I’m not sure if they’re accurate.” Locke clears his throat. “We can talk more of this later. For now, I need to ask something of you.” He finally looks at me, surveying the scarlet-and-black dress I’m wearing. My bleeding time is over now, so I chose something scandalously short and paired it with boots that stretch all the way up to mid-thigh. There are innumerable buckles, but I like the effect. The dress offers the bare minimum of coverage for my breasts and leaves my shoulders bare.
“The people here love me, but they have a healthy fear of me, too.” Locke’s voice is low, almost caressing. “I may have to handle you carelessly at first, in front of them. They’ll have to be convinced that you’re not someone I spared out of mercy, but simply a toy to make my journey more pleasant.”
“Just like we convinced the crew.” I nod, but I don’t tell him about what Dez said the other night—how he noticed Locke watching me. I’m sure some of the crew believe that Locke kept my secret only so he could take advantage of me, and then claimed me as his hired girl because he couldn’t resist his own lust. But others may suspect I mean more to the Pirate King than that.
Idomean more to him, don’t I? He wouldn’t have divulged his darkest secrets to just anyone. The things he has said to me—he can’t have spoken them to other women he has bedded.
I have to believe I’m different. Special. Chosen, and claimed.
