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“That’s for seasickness.”

“It’s for morning sickness. She also doesn’t drink with the rest of the crew, and she rubs her belly when she thinks no one is looking.”

Obviously, I noticed those things. I just didn’t come to the same conclusion that Roslyn did. I have not been around any pregnant women. I don’t know what to look for. I thought maybe she liked to stay sharp like me and didn’t bother with drink. And that she really liked food.

But now that Roslyn’s pointed it out, it seems embarrassingly obvious.

“So what’s lesson number two?” she asks.

“Don’t wake your instructor in the middle of the night.”

She doesn’t look amused.

“What are you going to do with this secret you’ve learned?” I ask instead of answering.

“What would an assassin do with it?” she fires back.

“Dimella is not your target, nor is the information useful to you in any way. So what do you think?”

She pauses to think about it. “Dimella is my friend. If she wanted anyone to know about her condition, she’d tell them. It’s not my place to do anything with the information.”

She looks up cautiously, as though scared she’s given the wrong answer.

I nod once. “Lesson number two is always go for the throat. It serves two purposes: killing and silencing your opponents in one go. Problem isyoucan’t reach the throat easily unless your target is sleeping. Tomorrow, I’ll show you the best places to put your dagger to immobilize your targets.”

“Immobilize?” she asks.

“Stop them in their tracks.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say that? Papa’s already been teaching me how to use a knife.”

Aye, but Wallov is likely teaching her tactics to give her time to run away for help, not how to deliver the more difficult wounds that people won’t recover from.

“It’s good to learn new tactics from new people.”

She shrugs. “You’re probably better at it anyway. Can we start now?”

“Good night,” I say as I hold the door open for her.

“Night, Captain.”

THE DAYS CONTINUE TOpass slowly, yet there’s no sign of theWandereryet. We haven’t seen any land save the few rocks jutting out of the ocean. There haven’t been any signs of ship debris or anything else to suggest someone passed this way, but we continue to follow Alosa’s map.

The temperature grows ever colder, making exploring the water by swimming impossible. We don our winter wear soon enough, Dimella loaning Roslyn an extra set.

“Don’t you tell anyone you got these from me,” she says to the little girl.

“They almost fit,” Roslyn says. “Even the boots.”

Dimella glares at her and walks away.

“What did I say?” Roslyn asks.

The winds grow harsher, moving the brigantine along faster. Floating bits of ice appear on the sea, growing larger and larger with each passing day. It’s like we’ve sailed into a whole new world. I’ve never seen anything like it. The waters are so dark, we can’t see anything below the surface.

One morning, a knock comes to my quarters. Expecting one of the kitchen girls with my breakfast, I call out, “Come in.”

But it’s Dimella.