“Let’s hope my mother will not be dying quite so soon,” Vada said with a sardonic look. “It is time for me to set out on my own for a while. On the Maiden’s Wail, I am Vada the Captain’s Daughter. I wish to be only Vada. I am not entirely sure who I am without the shadow of my mother over me.”
“I’m not sure who I am anymore either,” Agnes said, resting her chin on her knees. “In Old Port I knew what was expected of me and I hated it. Perhaps it was easier that way. Now I’m in Pelago at last and I’ve managed to lose my brother and my best friend and anger two uncles I never knew I had without even trying.”
“You are not giving yourself enough credit,” Vada said. “You have pissed your father off as well.”
Agnes laughed, and Vada looked pleased. Then her face grew serious.
“I would not judge myself so harshly if I were you, Agnes. I have been making the trip between Pelago and Kaolin since I was a little girl, and I have known many Kaolin women, of all ages and classes. Never have I met one like you. I am remembering the first time I saw you.” She gazed up at the stars as if she could see the past in them. “You were looking at me as furtive as a mouse, in all your fancy things and that stupid little hat perched on your head.”
Agnes pressed her hand to her mouth to cover her grin. “I had been meeting with my fiancé that afternoon,” she confessed. “My maid thought the hat would make a good impression.”
“Fiancé?” Vada cocked her head. “A very lucky gentleman. Is his heart being broken now that you have fled to Pelago?”
“No,” Agnes said, flustered. “No, it wasn’t like . . . my father arranged it, as a punishment, I think. I never—Ebenezer was a very nice young man, but not for me.”
“And what sort of man is for you?”
Agnes’s heart lodged in her throat and pounded there furiously. She’d come so far—she had crossed an ocean and made it all the way to Pelago, the country of her dreams. It was time to truly be herself. It was time to say the secret she’d been forced to keep for so long out loud.
“None,” she said. “I don’t like men that way.”
Tears of relief mingled with pride stung her eyes and she blinked them back. Her shoulders felt suddenly weightless, her legs and arms puffs of air. The waves lapping against the hull were like the sound of Pelago cheering for her, welcoming her home. She saw a flash of white that was Vada’s smile, but then it was gone, and the girl said nothing. After a moment, though, she began to whistle, a sweet, solemn tune that Agnes didn’t know.
The wind started to pick up, and the sloop skimmed across the water. The night was growing darker, thick clouds eating up the stars and swallowing the moonlight. Errol’s scales shone brighter, so the boat was haloed in luminous emerald.
Agnes shivered and settled back against the hull of the boat, feeling another layer of the girl she’d been in Kaolin slip away and wondering where her brother and Sera were now.
It took them three days to reach Ithilia.
Agnes was anxious to be back on land. The tiny ship was a great help, to be sure, but it felt like a prison. The only upside was so much uninterrupted alone time with Vada. They spent their days on the lookout for any Triumvirate patrol ships and the nights talking about their families and their hopes and fears for the future. Agnes was shocked to discover that Vada often felt insecure around her mother’s crew, and the thirst to prove herself on her own terms with her own ship had been growing since before the two of them had met. Vada found the stories of Agnes attending premiers and fancy gatherings in Old Port hilarious.
“What I would not be paying to see you at a ball in all frills and ruffles,” she’d said, cackling.
Agnes had rolled her eyes but her stomach fluttered at the thought of attending a dance or party with Vada. “I promise, you aren’t missing anything. Leo’s the one who cleans up the best in our family.”
Vada had glanced at her slyly. “I am doubting that,” she’d said. “I saw you in that red dress the night you came aboard the Maiden’s Wail, remember?”
Agnes had flushed and the subject had dropped.
Vada taught her Pelagan dice games and in return Agnes taught Vada about photosynthesis and the properties of matter. Agnes felt herself equal parts relaxed and anxious in Vada’s presence, especially since confessing she was attracted to girls. Always the desire to kiss Vada was there, growing more insistent with each passing day.
The closer they came to Ithilia, the more crowded the waters grew. Errol guided them expertly, avoiding the larger ships that could threaten their tiny sloop. Agnes saw that many were flying the Kaolin flag, red and white stripes and a golden sun. She wished the Palma had a flag to declare them Pelagan. She caught sight of armed Kaolins stalking the decks of a ship with rifles in their hands. But it wasn’t until the afternoon of their arrival in Pelago’s capital city that they truly saw what Phebe had been talking about back in Arbaz.
Two ships were locked in battle—they had heard the cannon fire and smelled something burning, then seen a ship with a mast missing and smoke pouring from its deck alongside an enormous galleon. They had been too far away to see the flags they were flying, but the sight made Agnes jittery and anxious. If Pelagans were openly attacking Kaolin ships, then things were only going to get worse.
They reached Ithilia just as the sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon.
Agnes could not help the way her breath caught in her throat. Ithilia. She had dreamed of it, but no dream could prepare her for its magnificence. The city was built into the side of a cliff, three massive rings of white marble stacked slightly above each other like a terrace, each one smaller than the last. And at the very top was Banrissa, looking like a toy castle perched at the cliff’s tip.
Farther out from the shore, she saw what must be Whitehall, the sacred shrine of Talmanism that Phebe had told them about. A narrow stone bridge sprouted from the base of the palace and hung, delicate as a cloud, over the whitecapped waves below. All Agnes could make out of Whitehall itself was a glint of blue-green.
Misarro ships patrolled the waters, as they had around the docks of Arbaz. Agnes was grateful for their little sloop—it was too small to be of any interest, and with only two passengers and a little cabin, there wasn’t much chance of them hiding anything. A schooner flying a flag with the five red stars of the Lekke pulled up alongside them and Vada deftly negotiated permission to dock in Ithilia with a surly Misarro with tin disks at her neck. Agnes held her breath until the ship passed, headed toward a Kaolin frigate making a run for the port.
A young girl with sunburned skin and a blue kerchief around her neck helped them tie up at the docks, then stuck out her hand.
“Twenty aurums,” she said.
“Twen—you’ve got to be kidding me!” Vada cried. “It was four last time I was here.”
The girl shrugged. “There wasn’t so much Kaolin trash last time you were here, then. Price’s gone up. Pay or we sink your boat.”
Vada grumbled but forked over the money anyway. Agnes waited until the girl had gone and then crouched by the water.
“Errol,” she called. His head popped up instantly, his filaments flashing blue.
“We’re going to get Sera,” Agnes said. “You stay here. We’ll be back.”