Chapter 21, Sarah

  When we reach her cabin, we assume the same positions as before. As though her brutal act of enforcement was only a small interruption.

  She’s tending to her steel, running a cloth over the blade. Across the room, a mirror catches her reflection. She pauses, pressing a thumb along her jaw, and wipes a smear of blood away.

  "The best navigators," she says, still looking at herself, "aren’t just the ones who know the sea and the stars better than anyone else. They’re the ones who can anticipate changes. Tell the future, if you will."

  Her gaze flicks to mine through the glass. "That’s where you come in."

  I stare at her dumbfounded at the audacity with which she bends every conversation to her will.

  "Do you mind if I change my shirt?" she says. "Bad luck to take a life and carry on in the same shirt."

  I nod, still recovering from the sudden shifts of the last few minutes.

  She walks past me to the foot of the bed, grabs the hem of her shirt, and pulls it over her head in one motion. She tosses it onto the floor and kneels, unlatching a chest. The lid creaks open.

  That’s when I notice her back, layered in scars. The fabric that binds her chest doing little to hide them.

  Suddenly my mind reels me back twelve years. I’m in her room, the night after she was punished for stealing. Fresh, raw welts striping her back in livid red.

  She had lain on her side, head pillowed on her arm, breaths shallow as I tried to understand why she had brought this on herself.

  Now, staring at her back, I can see that those were only the first of many. Some healed clean, some jagged where the skin split wrong. These must have happened over years. She catches my expression, her bare shoulders shifting as she turns just enough to see me.

  "That’s it," she murmurs, "Take it all in."

  She’s opened the chest, but she hasn’t pulled anything from it yet. As if she’s giving me time to figure it out. I don’t know why I never thought of it before, but now I couldn’t be more certain. She did it for me. She had seen my reaction the first time I felt the rush of someone else enduring lashes, so she sought out her own. A brutal exchange. Her pain for my attention.

  I force myself to snap back to the present.

  Roberts stands facing me now, shirt in hand. Her stomach flexes with each slow breath as she watches me.

  Can she see the way my eyes skitter from her face to the tender skin just above her belt, then back up?

  "Put the damn shirt on, Darlene," I say.

  She exhales, hissing with fury.

  I don’t mean it as an insult like I did the first time. It’s a deflection away from the deep cut of her abs beneath her leather belt.

  Roberts closes in quickly and I brace for a punch to the gut, a hand fisting in my collar, the edge of a blade pressed to my throat.

  But that’s not how she punishes me. Instead, she grabs my arm above the elbow and jerks me forward. Hard enough that I stumble and collide with her.

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  The warmth of her bare skin seeps through the thin fabric of my tunic and I feel the flex and pull of every breath. Hers, and mine.

  "I gave you one chance to say that name, get it out of your system," she says. “Never again.”

  "I don’t let anyone call me that." Her breath is warm against my cheek.

  "Not my enemies. Not my crew. And not you." Her grip tightens, holding me in place.

  My eyes flick past her, to the mirror. I wish I hadn’t looked. But there I am, flushed, pinned against her with my mouth slightly parted. Hot desperation searing me from the inside out until all I feel is need.

  Part of me thinks she’ll force me to admit just how captivated I am. But then she lets go, pulls on her shirt and leaves me burning, shaking.

  "You said you wanted off this ship," she says, leaning back against the table. "Want me to take you back to that beach so you can find your dragon."

  She pauses, considering me.

  "Here’s the thing… we’re headed straight to Thieves Sanctum for repairs. After that, I’ll take you to your beach."

  My brain is struggling to switch gears while the heat in my body slowly fades.

  “Or, you can stay. Form an alliance with me. You’ll have a pirate fleet at your service, and I’ll have your word that no pirates will be harmed in the Reckoning.”

  “You think pirates deserve to be spared?” I say, finally catching up.

  “We’re not all bad. Give us a chance to prove it.”

  “And if you don’t?”

  “Then I’ll drop you where I found you. We never have to see each other again.”

  I narrow my eyes. “And what services are you offering?”

  “Protection. It’s clear you haven’t learned to wield the dragon magic yet, and there are people hunting you. People who want to take you down before you fulfill your purpose. I will make sure they don’t get the chance. And I offer my fleet, sailors who will fight for you when the day comes.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch. I want you to be my navigator.”

  I blink. “I don’t know anything about navigation.”

  “You can learn. And maybe I’m going out on a limb, but that premonition you had earlier? If the old tales are true, it’s just the beginning. ”

  “How do you know so much?” I frown.

  She smirks. “How do you know so little? You end up with a dragon egg and you haven’t the faintest clue what you’re carrying.”

  “I didn't exactly have anyone to ask.”

  “Okay, well doesn’t that make it even more likely that we’re meant to work together? You’re going to need protection while you figure this out, and it seems I have more knowledge than you. And I need a navigator. Do we have a deal?”

  “Is there anything else you know that I don't?"

  “All I know are the old stories—dragons, Reckonings, and a queen who sees the future. If you’re going in blind, you might want someone who’s good at feeling her way through the dark. I’ve made it this far by instinct. And I’ve survived worse odds than this.”

  “This is… a lot to take in. I just need time.”

  “Alright,” Roberts says. “To help you think it over, I’ll sweeten the pot. I’m giving you the navigator’s quarters. The bed’s comfortable. Books, charts, things to keep your mind sharp. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  She turns without waiting for a reply. I hesitate for a second, watching her go. I know what she’s doing. She’s making it harder to say no. If I let myself sleep in that bed, run my fingers over her maps, then when she finally asks me to stay, how can I possibly say no?

  Still. Anything is better than the galley floor. So I follow.

  We don’t go far. Just a few steps down the passage, and she pushes open a wide wooden door. My mouth parts slightly at the sight.

  The cabin is generous by ship standards, a far cry from the cramped room I spent my first night in. It might have been lovely once, but now it looks like the sea turned it upside down. Books and tools are scattered across the floor, bits of glass clinking underfoot.

  Roberts kneels, flipping open the latch on a low trunk.

  “These were Alessa’s,” she says. “You’re about the same size. Consider them yours. Along with everything else in this room.”

  I shouldn’t. I know better. But I can’t remember the last time I had a real bed, or privacy. “I’ll take it,” I say, before I can change my mind. “But I still want to report to Sonya in the galley. I’d rather keep my hands busy... while I think things through.”

  “Suit yourself,” Roberts says lightly, already turning to leave. “I’m sure she could use help cleaning up in there.”

  At the door, she glances back. “Oh, and Sarah? Let’s keep this deal between us for now.”