His hand stilled on the match until the flame was so close to his fingertips that he had to put it out. “What?”
“I can get you a merchant’s ring if you deliver. And only if it stays quiet.”
“You’re lying.” The words dripped with fury.
But I could already see that I had him. The desperation of the prospect was all over his face. “I’m not. One merchant’s ring from the Trade Council in the Narrows.”
“The Narrows? We live in Bastian, sweetheart.”
“We both know that a ring from one guild makes it easier to get one from the other. Which do you want more? Holland’s favor, or a ring to buy your own?”
Henrik lit another match, puffing on the pipe until smoke was billowing from the chamber. “Did Auster tell you what will happen to you if you lie to me?”
“He did.”
“Your grandmother will be finding pieces of you all over this city,” he said softly. “And I’ll have to take my nephew off your hands in the spirit of restitution.”
Paj’s fists clenched. I was sure that at any moment, he was going to tear across the room and break Henrik’s neck.
Henrik picked up the parchment, studying the rendering. I’d done it only by memory, my skill not even close to what it should be. But they knew exactly what I was looking for. “Only a Narrows-born urchin would be this stupid.”
“Only Saltbloods would be this soft,” I shot back. “Will you do it?”
Henrik looked to Ezra, who stood stoically against the wall. Whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.
After a moment, Henrik reached up, taking hold of Auster’s shoulder. He squeezed it. A little too tightly.
“We’ll do it.”
TWENTY-FIVE
The sails of the Marigold unrolled in unison, slapping against the masts as the sun set over the water. In only a day we’d pulled together everything we needed for the dive at Yuri’s Constellation and in minutes, we’d be sailing into the dark.
Henrik agreed to accept our commission, but taking him at his word was like putting faith in the ability of adder stones to protect from sea demons. In the end, there was no way to know what the Roths would do.
The only thing that seemed sure was the fact that our days were numbered. One way or another, Holland was going to make her move. And if she did, the Narrows would never be the same.
I watched Clove standing at the end of the dock with his jacket buttoned up to his chin. I slipped my hands into my pockets and breathed into the scarf wound around my neck as I walked toward him. The sea was gray and blustery, fighting dusk.
He said nothing as I came to stand behind him. His cheeks were reddened by the wind, the tip of his nose rosy.
“Do you think Saint can do it?” I watched his face as he stared out at the water, thinking. His pale blond hair had come out from under his cap, blowing around his face.
“I don’t know,” he said. Clove hadn’t been happy when I told him that we’d gone to Henrik. He was even angrier when I told him what I’d offered him.
I didn’t know what my father would say when he found out what I’d been up to. I could only hope he’d play along. Getting a merchant’s ring for a criminal was next to impossible. But if I wanted the Roths to come through with the safety net we needed, I had to have it. “Six days.”
“Six days,” he repeated.
The Trade Council meeting in Sagsay Holm would bring together every licensed trader from the Unnamed Sea and the Narrows. If Holland had her way, she’d secure approval from the Council to open her trade to Ceros. If I had mine, she’d never get the chance to sail our waters.
Clove would have to move fast if he was going to get to Ceros and back to Sagsay Holm with Saint in time.
“What do you know about the midnight, Clove? Honestly.”
He sighed. “Nothing. I only know that your mother took it when she left Bastian and that she didn’t want it found.”
“She told you about it?”
“After one too many glasses of rye.” He smirked. “I wasn’t sure it was true until Holland told the same story.”
If Isolde had taken it, she’d done it for a reason. The only thing that made sense was that she didn’t want the midnight in Holland’s hands. Midnight’s worth was in its rarity. After