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I knew I ought to ignore him and sail somewhere no other eyes would fall on us. But after a night’s poor sleep in the boat, the mind-numbing terror of facing the pirates, and the chill brought by the spell, I couldn’t bring myself to push any harder than I had. I knuckled my chin and tried to straighten out the sludge of my thoughts.

“If I take you to see a town, will you agree to trust me? Will you let me get you to safety afterwards?”

“Hum.” He reached up and brushed his fingers along his hairline. “I will agree to consider it.”

I should have just ignored him and dragged him to safety, but, well, I was more exhausted than I’d ever been. A rest on land, without the sail or the sea to mind, did sound nice. Though ill feeling brewed in my gut, I nodded and reluctantly agreed to his terms.

Chapter 24

The village was nestled in a small, peaceful bay. I cut the sails and kept us out there for nearly fifteen minutes as I scanned the collection of houses by the beach, trying to make sure it wasn’t another pirate town.

“Can we please just dock?” Oraik groaned. He lay on the boat’s narrow bench. A thick clump of my hair broke forward to smack me across the face, courtesy of the wind. I tossed it back over my shoulder and wrenched my scarf tighter.

The houses were painted and looked better made than the shacks where I’d found him. It seemed larger, too. But I didn’t see anyone, which was a little worrisome. I think I’d have felt better if some of the boats were out fishing instead of moored, or if I could see villagers wandering around the beach going about their lives.

“Maybe we should try the next one.”

“You said that last time,” Oraik groaned. “Please, take me in. At this rate, we’ll be out here until nightfall. You make for a thoroughly frustrating captor.”

He didn’t seem remotely cowed by the risk of running into more pirates. Nor had he thanked me even once for the rescue.

“If we do this, you can’t let anyone know who you are. From here on, you’d better pretend you’re normal. You aren’t a prince. You aren’t a man who’s used to throwing money around. You’re just ordinary.”

“But darling, how will I manage to convince anyone of that, with these gorgeous fine-spun clothes?” he drawled, and smoothed a hand over his bloody, holey shirt. For a moment in my exhaustion I thought he was seriously asking the question. I snorted and angled us in.

“One sign of trouble, and we go back to sea,” I warned Oraik. “Don’t get too friendly with anyone. If they ask you questions about yourself, lie. The last thing we need is the wrong person putting the pieces together.”

“So, you aren’t just a bounty-hunter, you’re also a tutor?” he asked.

“Sorry, what?” I blinked at him.

“Because.” I could see the corner of his lips twitching, as if he was fighting against a laugh that wanted to get out. “You know, because that was a lecture.” He giggled.

“You ought to be serious,” I told him dryly.

He sighed. “Oh, come now. It wouldn’t ruin you to smile. And if you’re so worried about going unnoticed, you’d better act like someone here for a festival, no?”

“Convincing anyone of that will be a battle, with how you’re dressed.”

We docked and entered the town. It was eerily empty, though not without charm. Though the paint on the houses was peeling from the sea air and half the roofs were lopsided, I saw gardens edging the houses and flowers and hot peppers growing from earthenware pots. It might have reminded me of a Nis-Illousian village, if all the people got up and vanished without warning.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I told him.

“And I have a good one,” he countered, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and squeezing. “Listen. Do you hear that?” We froze and strained our ears. Over the crashing sea I heard a faint laugh.

“People.”

“Happy people,” Oraik clarified, turning his chin down towards me with a grin. “Maybe even celebrating people.” He let go of my shoulder and reached for my hand. When I refused to take it, he pouted and waggled his fingers. With a grumble, I relented. He squeezed my palm and pulled me down the street.

It was wrong of us to be here. We ought to be back in the boat, heading as fast to nowhere as we could. Neither of us had any business at a festival. And anyways, I saw no appeal in attending one.

The street led us to a town square, a big open space where a half-dozen streets met. Several tables were set up there. The great firepit in the center of the square was empty, though a pile of cut lumber sat next to it.

A small crowd of people were hard at work. Most of them were cooking, gutting hundreds of tiny silver fish and chopping vegetables. Others carried in more wood or shifted the tables around. A few musicians sat to one side, tuning instruments and talking animatedly. Children twined their way through the crowd, giggling and chasing each other as they called out the phrases of a rhyming game.

“Well, isn’t this pleasant,” Oraik said. He let go of me and clasped his hands behind his back. There was a small smile on his face.

“Pleasant enough,” I said, folding my arms. “Well, we’ve seen it. Can we head back?”