“Whose cloak is that on the fire?” Captain Caraway asked suddenly, pointing a finger down at the splay of black still obscuring the hearthfire basin and the still-warm coals nestled in it.
Rhabdus licked her lips, flashing her yellowed teeth in a grimace.
“This girl is trouble, Jane,” Rhabdus said, leaning in close to the captain. “We’ve sailed together, you and I, for more voyages than I can count. This girl is trouble for the ship, I know it.”
Captain Caraway turned her enigmatic stare to Rhabdus.
“She’s unpredictable,” Rhabdus hissed. “She doesn’t follow any of the rules. No seal of accomplishment from the schools. She’s too wild to sail.”
Captain Caraway’s eye—a brown so dark it was almost black—held Kindred in a gaze more intense than any she’d ever experienced, including that day not so far back when Kindred had approached her, fresh from the last argument Kindred would have with the Marchess, desperate for a place on some vessel, any vessel, that wasn’t Revenger.
Kindred took in the smooth slope of Captain Caraway’s nose, the crooked slant of her mouth, the unkempt mane of hair that looked unnatural not caught in a prairie wind.
“Wild,” Captain Caraway said, nodding. “I like wild.”
Rhabdus sucked in a breath and looked around, taking in the eyes of those few who had stopped to watch, taking in the captain.
Kindred stood.
“You gave us that speed? You stopped us up at the end?” Captain Caraway asked.
Ignoring Rhabdus, who had finally turned to glare at her, Kindred nodded.
“Aye, Captain.”
“You can’t be serious, Jane,” Rhabdus said, her voice like steel now, all anger and rage. “This fucking girl almost destroyed your ship, almost killed every single sailor aboard. She’s not fit to be on this deck. You have to—”
“Don’t,” Captain Caraway said, stopping Rhabdus’s fury with a single word. She shook her head once. “You don’t give orders, not on my boat.”
Rhabdus inhaled through her nose, nostrils flaring, lips pressed into thin parallel lines.
“Fine,” she said after a moment of grinding silence. “But that girl will be nothing but ill luck for this ship. She’ll bring us all down, and that’s true as the green.”
Rhabdus stomped off, every movement singing with her rage. Kindred heard her cursing all the way down the dock. If her last few stays at port were any indication, she would spend the next few days in a lie-leaf house, chewing the dream-inducing plant and blissing out on whatever joyful madness it called forth.
“Thank you, Captain,” Kindred said, pulse jumping like lightning in her veins.
“Don’t thank me; thank Sarah,” Captain Caraway said, watching Rhabdus go before turning to regard Kindred. “And don’t ever pull something like that on my boat again without consulting me first.”
Kindred thought her spine might bend and tear through the skin of her back as she shrank from the sudden chill in the Captain’s voice.
“Have you ever seen a boat boarded by pirates, Kindred?” Captain Caraway stepped closer and regarded Kindred with one wide eye. “Ever seen the damage, the killing? Don’t misunderstand me, Kindred: I like that you take risks, and that you don’t follow the rules that have grown old and stale. But this remains my ship, my crew, and if anyone is going to make the decision to risk lives or livelihoods, it isn’t going to be my junior keeper. Do you understand me?”
Kindred felt sick, and the feeling only deepened as she realized Ragged Sarah still hung close enough to overhear what the captain had said.
Revenger had never been boarded while she’d been on it, but she had experienced a few terrifying flights from pursuing pirate vessels. And she had seen ships make it out of a fight with pirates, either after being boarded or in an open-Sea skirmish. Dead and dying sailors, wounds cut jagged into flesh, masts battered and scarred and broken, hulls the same. Her second year sailing with Revenger, she had watched a ship, The Cracked Crown, sail into port with a bare crew, the rest dead in the skirmish, the decks still painted red and telling a grisly story.
The hearthfire keeper had survived the attack, but the pirates had taken the captain, one of the Marchess’s friends, for her bones.
The funerals for those lost had been simple, plain things.
“Understood, Captain.”
After a moment, Captain Caraway spoke again, her voice softer now, a lift after the weight of her anger.
“Rhabdus is a good keeper, Kindred. And once not so long ago, she was the best on any boat sailing out of Arcadia, maybe any boat at all. You can learn something from her.”
“Aye, Captain,” Kindred said, dipping her head.
“Now get this mess cleaned up and the hearthfire squared away.”
“Of course, Captain. And about the damage to the hull . . . I’m sorry. I . . .” Kindred trailed off, unsure what she would or could do. She could guess at the damage to the hull, and a shiver tripped down her spine as she imagined climbing down the side of The Errant to repair the rents in the wood, climbing until she was below the surface of the Sea. It had been several years since she had felt the grasses of the Forever Sea cover her, since the Marchess had taken her below.
“I don’t want your apologies, keeper,” the captain said. “The material for repairs will come out of your cut. Despite Rhabdus’s suggestion, I’m not kicking you off my boat.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“But you will be sitting out our next harvesting voyage.”
Air drained from Kindred’s lungs.
“You can work on your land legs and think about your role on my ship, and when we come into port next, I expect you to be there, helping unload cargo and occupying your spot on the ship. You’re still part of this crew, Kindred. You just need time to cool off.”
“Aye, Captain,” Kindred said. “Of course.”
“Grab anything you need from the ship before we sail again. I expect we won’t be docked more than a span.”
A span. Ten days. And then Kindred would be sitting on the shore, watching the ship—and her role on it—sail off, the fire kept by Rhabdus again.
Kindred couldn’t help but think of the last time she had stayed behind at port as her ship sailed off. Had it been two years already since her fight with the Marchess? Since her last day aboard Revenger? Since the hard words she had traded with the Marchess?
That had been a different time, and this was not the same situation. Kindred would be back aboard The Errant. She had worked too hard for that spot, for the belonging that she had only begun to find among the crew. Two years of pushing to find a place among this crew, listening and watching, searching for how and where she might fit in.