his name, using her. Someone who knew the game for what it was. He slid the new message into his shirt, next to the scrap of cloth and the wedding dagger, and looked over his shoulder.
Holden’s voice was a low drone, something about Tallia watching him when the guards found him at the temple. Van Gast thought of the voice that had said “In the green shirt.” A voice that he knew, he’d thought then, but too soft to say whose. A woman’s voice. One who knew his secret name, and there was only one of those—Josie.
Only, only…only he wasn’t sailing that tide, not again. A woman, stick with that. Someone else had found out his real name. But who? Find the Lady, find the traitor. Watch for the distraction, then loop around it. Roll up, roll up, find the lady, win a prize. Like getting to stay alive.
Tallia stood pensive and odd, her hands twisting in front of her, all her bounce gone, her eyes wide and fearful. Something about her made him itch, not an itch that made him want to run, but trouble nonetheless. He thought of how she’d known Holden’s name when she had no right to. The way she’d cozied up to him, to the crew. Maybe one of them had heard his name, let it slip. Gossiping sailors, worse than fishwives. “Put her in the brig.”
“What? But she’s the one who—” Holden took a step forward.
“Put her in the brig. Who’s captain here, you or me?”
Holden pulled up short, his eyes confused.
“I said, put her in the fucking brig!”
Holden’s lips thinned, but he took hold of Tallia by the elbow and pushed her out of the door.
“Guld, did you get me those things, the merchant gear?”
“Yes, Van, I—”
“Good, go get them.” Van Gast shut the door quietly before he let Guld go. “I trusted you once, Guld, and you didn’t let me down. There’s a traitor about somewhere. Someone who wants the Yelen to catch me. She’s on this ship, I’m thinking. I’m hoping she’s in the brig now. But maybe not.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet.” Or he did, but he wasn’t admitting it to Guld.
Guld scurried out and Van Gast was left to his own stew of juice. A traitor, yes. Someone had told the guards who he was, someone had made sure he’d be there for them to find. Just another game of Find the Lady, only this time it might be fatal if he got it wrong. Just another time when stupid and exciting won out over sensible but dull, because he was going to make this next meeting with Josie, going to show her, make her trust him.
It had been a while since he’d played Mr. Ibsen, and never inside the city walls of Estovan. Utterly stupid, entirely thrilling, naturally. And naturally, the thought of not going never even crossed his mind. She was going to twist the Yelen, he could feel it, and he was going to go with her, wipe that hurt from her eyes and heart.
Van Gast in the Yelen palace. Now that was a thought to keep him warm.
* * *
Holden took Tallia down belowdecks, his hand on her arm. She shook like a leaf in the wind, kept trying to start sentences but seemed unable to finish them.
He got her inside the brig and turned the key in the lock. She didn’t protest, didn’t say anything, but the sparse tears on her cheeks were enough to prick at his conscience.
“Tallia—” he began, but he didn’t know what it was he wanted to say. He should be on an upper deck, with his newly happy wife, but found he wanted to stay here. He held on to the bars of the brig, took comfort in the cool smoothness, the straight lines, the order of them.
“I was trying to help. I was, I promise.” Her voice seemed small down here.
He left her there but stopped at the top step to look back down. That bright energy was gone, flowed away like a tide. Instead he saw only listlessness. Not bonded, at least. Not that. Van will let her out when this is all over, or when he’s made sure of her. It’s sensible, to keep her in here. Yet his steps were heavy.
He opened the door to his quarters, expecting a cold Ilsa, more icy barriers. The scar on his wrist burned as he thought on it, as it always did. Tempting