and made another stitch. The creak of floorboards sounded and I raised the lantern. Beneath the closed door, the shadow of two feet broke the light. I watched the latch, waiting for it to lift, but a moment later, the shadow disappeared.
I drew a few steadying breaths, taking West’s ring into my hand and squeezing. It had been six days since the morning I climbed down the ladder of the Marigold in Dern. Five nights since I’d slept in his bed. Willa, Paj, Auster, Hamish. Their faces were illuminated hazily in my mind. They were followed by Saint’s. I swallowed, remembering him in the tavern in Dern, a teacup in his hand. I would have given anything to see him in that moment. Even if he was cold. Even if he was cruel.
I tied off the last stitch and poured the rest of the rye over the wound, inspecting my work. It wasn’t the cleanest of stitches and it would leave a nasty scar, but it would do.
I stood, dropping the bottle. It rolled across the cargo hold as I took up the lantern and walked back to the door. I lifted my chin as I pulled it open and stepped into the empty passageway. When I came back up onto the deck, the deckhand whose voice I’d woken to was watching me with wide eyes from where he stood before the helm.
I shoved the lantern into his hands. “I need a new belt.”
He looked confused.
“A belt,” I repeated, impatient.
He hesitated, looking to Clove, who was still perched on the stool, weighing stones. I could have sworn I saw him smirk before he gave the deckhand a nod.
The boy shuffled belowdecks, leaving me there shivering in the wind. Seawater still dripped from my hair, hitting the deck beside my feet. When I looked up, Koy was watching me from the bow, where he was fishing a new pick from the crate.
I stalked toward him, trying to hide the limp in my gait. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” He slipped the pick into his belt.
“You…” I said, my words uneven. “You cut the rope.”
Koy laughed, but it was thin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stepped closer to him, lowering my voice. “Yes, you do.”
Koy scanned the deck around. He towered over me as he looked into my face, his black eyes meeting mine. “I didn’t cut the rope.”
He shoved past me as the boy returned with a belt full of tools. I wound it around me, fastening the buckle tightly. A hush fell over the deck as I stepped up onto the anchor crank and balanced on the side of the ship with one foot. I stood against the wind, looking down at the rippling blue below. And before I could think twice, I jumped.
NINE
The distant ring of a harbor bell found me deep beneath the surface of a dream painted with honey-gold ships, winged sails, and the sound of strung adder stones clinking in the wind.
My eyes opened to pitch black.
The crew’s cabin was silent except for the rake of snores and the creak of the trunks as the Luna slowed. My hand frantically searched for my knife as I sat up, unfolding my legs from the fabric and letting my toes touch the cool floor.
I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I’d watched Ryland’s hammock above me in the dark until he was still, and though my eyes were heavy and my bones ached, I’d been determined to stay awake in case he decided to finish what he started.
On the other side of the cabin Koy was still sleeping, one of his hands hanging from the canvas and nearly touching the ground. I stood, breathing through the pain in my leg, and felt along the floor for my boots. When I had them on, I opened the door, slipping into the passageway.
I followed the wall with my hand until I reached the stairs, peering up to the patch of gray sky above.
Zola’s voice was already calling out orders as I stepped onto the deck. I wrapped my arms around myself when the chill in the air made me shiver. The Luna was enveloped in a bright white fog so thick I could feel the caress of it on my face.
“Slow, slow!” Voices shouted in the mist and Clove tilted his head, listening before he turned the helm just slightly.
I went to the rail, watching the swirling mist. I could hear the dockworkers, but the slip didn’t appear