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“Well, yes.”

My eyes narrow. “Are you trying to find a common interest with me?”

He smirks. “Captain, you’re doing it again. Stop flattering yourself.”

Chapter 6

WHEN I ORDER DIMELLAto add me to the next rotation of rowers, she doesn’t question the order. She never questions my orders, which is why I like her.

I sit at the backmost bench so I can see all the rowers ahead of me. I don’t like the exposure of sitting in the middle of the ship, but there’s nothing for it. I want this. I need this. Enwen offers me his gloves, and I take them, despite them being far too big. I shrug out of my captain’s coat and lay it under my bench.

What I hadn’t taken under consideration was the clear line of sight this position gives me to Kearan up at the helm. So I stare at the back of Bayla, as she sits in front of me.

“Heave,” Dimella bellows, and I push the oar through the water, moving the ship forward. “Heave. Heave. Heave.”

Taydyn is giving his voice and fingers a rest, so there is nothing to distract the crew from the tedium of rowing. Nothing but talking.

“When do you thinkVengeancewill see her first fight?” Philoria asks.

“Hopefully soon,” Bayla answers. “Those cannons are looking a little too clean.”

Philoria takes a big draw of air through her nose. “I miss the smell of gunpowder.”

“I can see the soot in your hair,” I say. “You’ve been getting into the powder with Visylla, haven’t you?”

“Guilty.” She sings the word.

“It’s not the same as when we get to light it, though, Captain,” Bayla says. “We need a proper sea battle.”

“All in good time,” I say. “You two are going to get your fight. It’s inevitable where we’re going.” I would tell them not to be so eager, but that would be hypocritical. I’m itching for a fight myself.

“I certainly don’t mind having less work,” Iskirra says from where she’s working at her own oar.

“Liar,” Bayla says. “You miss having wounds to patch up. Admit it.”

“Heave.”

I’m out of practice at the oars. It doesn’t take long at all before my muscles start to ache, but I will do my part like everyone else. Ignoring pain is almost second nature to me.

“Heave.”

After spotting movement out of the corner of my eye, I watch Roslyn scurry down the line from the crow’s nest, faster than should be possible for anyone. That girl’s part monkey.

She crosses to us on bare feet and sits, letting her ankles dangle in the area where the rowers labor.

“Captain,” Roslyn says. “I’ve been thinking.”

“You’re getting dropped off at Darmont, and that’s the end of it,” I say.

“But what if you can’t find me on the ship? Or what if I climbed back aboard after you dropped me into a rowboat? Alosa can’t very well blame you if—”

“I’ll not make myself look incompetent or complicit in your schemes, Roslyn.”

“I don’t know whatcomplicitmeans, but no one would ever think you incompetent.”

“Exactly. The answer is no.”

“But, Sorinda—”