The barmaid set down two large plates of bread and cheese, followed by another pot of tea. Auster didn’t waste any time, reaching for the dish of butter.
He lathered a thick layer onto a piece of bread and handed it to me. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”
I eyed him. “Why aren’t you mad like the others?”
“Oh, I’m mad,” he said, reaching for another piece of bread. “What you did was wrong, West. When you took us on, you said we’d each have an equal say. You went back on your word.”
“Then why are you playing nice?” I asked.
“Because.” He looked past me, to West. “If it was Paj, I’d have done the same damn thing.” He tore the bread and popped a piece into his mouth.
West leaned onto the table, letting out a heavy breath. The defensive, rigid set of his jaw was gone now and I knew the reality of what he’d done was setting in. Maybe Hamish would forgive the slight, but Willa and Paj wouldn’t be so understanding.
West stared at the table, mind working. “You know we can’t give the midnight to Holland if we find it. Don’t you? She’s the most powerful trader in the Unnamed Sea. If you find the midnight for her…” His words trailed off. “She could ruin everything. For us and for the Narrows.”
He was right. I’d been thinking the same thing.
“If she gets license to trade in Ceros, everything we planned is over. None of it matters.”
“Saint won’t let that happen.” I tried to sound sure. But the truth was that there was no telling what Saint would do.
Auster reached across the table for another piece of bread, and the tattoo of tangled snakes peeked out from beneath his rolled sleeve. Two knotted serpents eating each other’s tails. It was the same one the young man named Ezra had, the one who’d been in Holland’s office.
A distant thought whispered in the back of my mind, making me still.
The midnight would save Saint, but it wouldn’t save the Narrows. If Holland opened her route to Ceros, it would sink every trader posted there.
“Auster?” I said.
He looked up from his plate, his mouth full of bread. “Yeah?”
“Tell me about that tattoo.”
His gray eyes sharpened, his hand freezing in midair. On the other side of the table, West was silent.
“Why?” Auster asked warily.
“What are you thinking?” West leaned closer to me.
“You were right about Holland. This isn’t going to be as simple as trading midnight for Saint. If she gets license to trade in the Narrows, it doesn’t matter. All of us will be working the docks by the time she’s through.”
West nodded. “I know.”
“No one can touch her. She controls the trade in the Unnamed Sea and she owns the Trade Council.”
West shrugged. “The Narrows Trade Council has held out this long. There’s nothing we can do except hope that they don’t grant her the license.”
“That’s not true,” I said, my mind still unraveling the tangle of thoughts.
They both looked at me, waiting.
“We know that Holland wants to take out the traders posted from Ceros.” My gaze drifted, landing on Auster. “She’s got a commission with an unlicensed merchant to sweeten the deal with the Council. A commission she doesn’t want anyone to know about.”
Auster’s mouth went crooked. “With who?”
“When we were with Holland, she made a deal with someone who had that same tattoo.”
Auster looked suddenly uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. “What was his name?”
“Ezra,” I said.
Auster’s eyes snapped up.
“Do you know him?”
“I know him,” he answered.
“What can you tell us about him?”
“Nothing, if I know what’s good for me. You don’t want to get involved with the Roths. Trust me.”
“Wait. You’re a Roth?” My voice rose.
But West didn’t look at all surprised. He’d known exactly what that tattoo was.
“You think we can use them?” West said, keeping his voice low.
“No,” Auster said evenly.
“Why not?”
“They’re dangerous, West,” Auster answered. “Henrik would sooner cut you than invite you to tea, like Holland.”
I pushed up the sleeve of Auster’s shirt, studying the mark. “How do you know him?”
Auster seemed to be deciding how much he would tell me. “He’s my uncle. We’re not exactly on good terms,” Auster added. “When I left Bastian, I left the Roths. And no one leaves the Roths.”
“And Ezra?”
When he could see I wasn’t going to give up, Auster sighed. “He wasn’t born into the family. Henrik found him working for a smith when we were just kids. He took him in because he was talented. Henrik got him