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She frowns. “Because he was hungry?”

What I’m trying to see without giving anything away is whether she knows that I’m a Syren or not. But from the way she’s acting, I don’t think she does. I relax a little and take another sip of the coffee. Ramsay had promised my secret would be safe with him and I have to trust him with that.

“Oh, he was hungry alright,” I say.

“I bet,” she says, her green eyes lighting up. “So how was it?”

I stare at her aghast for a moment. “You mean the feeding or…?”

“I’m meaning the plowing,” she says salaciously. “Look here, I’m one of the Brethren, don’t matter that I’m a female, I know what it gets like when you get the blood in ya. No doubt with Bones it led to the deed of darkness, aye.”

I feel myself flush. “It’s too early for this sort of talk.”

“Then finish your coffee and wake up.”

Laughing, I do as she says, finishing the rest of the mug. I’ve never had anyone to have this sort of “woman talk” with so I feel I should take advantage of it. I clear my throat. “You would not believe the abject filth that comes out of that man’s mouth,” I offer. “It’s enough to make a sailor blush.”

“Of course I can. Look at him,” she nods her head up at the aft deck where he’s seated. At that moment he’s grinning at Drakos, looking both wicked and handsome.

“I have to admit, we were worried for a while there thinking he might never come back for us and theNightwind,” she adds, her voice turning grave.

“Were any of the crew seriously thinking of sailing under Sterling?”

“Nay. Not even close.”

“So you really are like a family.”

“Aye. I’m not just saying this as his sister-in-law, but we all trust him with our lives. Bones is doing what his father did and that’s thumbing his nose up at the politics and privilege of the world. There was no place for them there and there still isn’t. It doesn’t help that we are part of the Brethren and distanced from society to begin with. Here, on theNightwind, we are together and we are safe and we have our own world to govern.”

“Even though Ramsay governs it.”

She shakes her head. “As you’ve seen, it’s a democracy. Can you say that about anywhere else where the kings and queens reign? The class systems that have been set up to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. They’re even telling us now what religions we have to follow, whatgodto believe in. As if you can force belief onto someone.” She shakes her head in disgust. “Here we are equal. Bones leads us but we all need a leader and in the end nothing is against our will. We can be free out here to live the lives we want and be who we want to be. Do you think back in Glasgow I’d be allowed to wear these breeches!? My goodness, they’d hang me by my neck for being an outlier for that and everything else that makes me who I am.”

I look back over at Ramsay, who has now borrowed the whittling knife from Drakos and is attempting to carve something out of a wood plank, laughing as he goes, Henry looking on in excitement to see what he will create.

“He’s a good man, Maren,” she adds with emphasis, leaning in to tap her shoulder against mine. “He may be rough around the edges, but pardon me for telling you this, I haven’t seen him this happy in a very long time.”

“Happy?” I ask, puzzled. “I assumed he was always like this.” Not that Ramsay has been joyful all the time but he certainly doesn’t have the seriousness of his brother.

“He can be brooding for sure,” she notes with a smile. “Nothing like Thane, of course, he’s a grumpy bastard by nature. However, before you came along, there was an inherent restlessness with Bones. The way we’d cross the Pacific over and over again. Always searching for the sea witch, as if that would bring him peace. The thing is, and I do hate to say it, but even if he finds her I don’t think killing her will bring him peace. His daughter is gone and no revenge will ever bring her back.”

I nod, though I don’t want her words to be true. Will killing Edonia bring me peace? Perhaps not. But I don’t even want her dead necessarily, I just want my fins back and my world back.

I still want that, don’t I?

“She also has that book,” I say. “The magic book that his witch wife wrote for him.”

“Aye, that too. But he doesn’t realize the book is pointless.”

I look at her in surprise. “Pointless?”

She takes off her hat and adjusts a few strands of wayward red hair before putting it back on. “What is the book going to do for him?”

“Isn’t it a way for him to access more magic?”

“It is. But what does he really want?”

“His wife back,” I whisper, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. “Can the book bring her back?”