Page 29 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

NILSA

I t's three days before I can feel normal again. Though my moon pains are legendary, my periods are also mercifully short.

So, when we're still a few hours away from Idos, I finally have the chance to do some sneaking. I've stolen a shirt from Cas's stash to confuse my scent and the new moon has passed, so I have no trouble drawing magic into my sigils to keep me out of sight. Even my footsteps are silent as I creep down a dark stairwell towards the middle of the ship.

I've not been here before. I've never needed to. These are the gun decks and mostly ignored by the crew since Val can just fire a cannon with a flick of his finger.

The artillery lines each side of the ship, everything tied in place, held perfectly together.

Unlike his office, Val keeps this part of the ship immaculate.

There isn't even any dust lingering in the corners.

It's unlit, but no Lunar witch has trouble seeing in the dark. I pick my way across to a door, only to curse at the padlock.

I don't have my picks with me, but even I can tell that's mage-tech. The transmutation circles etched into the metal glowing with power. I'm betting it will set off an alarm if I so much as touch it.

The last thing I want to do is alert Val when Opal's doing such a good job of keeping him distracted.

That leaves only one other route in. All I have to do is decide if my curiosity is worth the aftereffects.

Klaus's outrage flashes in my mind.

I have to know what these pirates are up to.

The moon is out. I have enough power.

Why am I still hesitating?

Taking a deep breath, I call on the Mother's magic and say a tiny prayer.

"Lady Moon, grant me the power of shadow."

Stepping into the spirit plane is quite literally the most disorienting thing that can ever happen to a witch. Fading from the material realm and into the realm of the dead feels like your whole body is being squished between two panes of glass.

Combined with the sheer amount of moonlight I have to channel to keep it up, it's almost impossible.

This is the gift of the Goddess that all of her Shadows are given after their vows. It's what we're named for. The legendary ability to strike literally from the shadows of the realm of the dead.

But it's also the gift I like the least.

The way you perceive the world becomes distorted on the spirit plane. There were no other Shadows in Coveton to mentor me, so I have no idea if there's a secret trick to the magic.

As a teenager, my continued failure frustrated me. All Glenna could come up with when I asked for her help was focusing on the destination in the material plane and trying to get the whole experience over with as quickly as possible.

It's not ideal. But it works.

I stride through the door as soon as I've crossed over, reforming on the other side.

If going into the spirit plane is uncomfortable, becoming real again is downright nauseating.

I suck in lungfuls of air, trying to keep myself from retching.

When it passes, I'm in another stairwell.

I hastily descend, finally emerging into the cavernous space which is the hold.

Barrels and crates are everywhere.

Hundreds of them.

Searching them all would be impossible, especially when the pirates might notice me missing at any moment. Luckily, I don't have to. The manifest is hanging from a nail in the post in front of me.

I grab the clipboard full of papers and flick through.

The most recent pages are dedicated to beer, rum, and spirits. Alcohol dominates the list of cargo, followed by silks, skins, medicine, perfumes, and spices. Beside each one is the ship it was 'liberated' from, or the port where it was—legally?—purchased.

Then there's an entry simply labelled 'E.G.'.

No explanation. Nothing more.

Nothing to say where they came from.

But there's over a dozen barrels listed here.

I move through the hold, checking the words stamped in ink into the tops. Each one is strapped in, meticulously well ordered and carefully secured.

I still can't understand how Val's office can be such a state when the rest of the ship looks like this. The man is a walking contradiction.

I have to resist the section devoted to fae liquor. It's so strong that I can smell it through the wood. The sweet, spicy scent not quite like anything else in the world.

So tempting.

They've been holding out on me. Maybe I'll liberate a few of these to the galley before...

Before I leave in a few hours.

Goddess, that thought shouldn't make me as sad as it does.

I shrug it off. Shove my attachment to them deep and shut the door on it.

Tomorrow, I have to prepare myself to do what I've been accused of all along. Confront a high priestess. I shouldn't be moping about pirates.

I have a duty to my Goddess. To myself.

I have to clear my name.

And then what? Go back to Coveton?

How na?ve is it to believe they'll all just welcome me back with open arms?

I shouldn't think about the future when I've still got to survive the next few hours.

It feels like I've walked the full length of the ship before I come across the first barrel marked E.G.

But it's not just inked like the others.

It's wrapped in ropes, sealed together with wax bearing an instantly familiar seal.

"The Eagle of Galmere," I whisper. "What in moonlight's name are they doing with the human queen's cargo?"

I search for a crack, a way to figure out what's inside. But it's sealed shut.

There's no way for me to snoop without giving away that someone has tampered with it .

If I alter the barrel with magic, it will leave traces of my magic. Just like the ones the Coveton witches used to trace my scrying on Danika. It will be easy for a witch who knows what she's doing to track me down.

I can try purifying myself when I leave the Deadwood , but there's always a chance that I'll miss something.

Is knowing what's inside worth that risk?

I bite my lip.

Klaus seems adamant that whatever is in these barrels is important.

Just remembering his face when he learned I was on board the Deadwood has me inching closer.

I have to know. I may never get another chance.

I pull magic from the Moon, using it to warp the stopper in the barrel closest to me. Shrinking it just enough so that it pops open.

Glittery powder falls out. The sparkles instantly recognisable.

Fae dust.

The byproduct of fae magic. Some less principled fae barter it with outsiders. Small doses make immortals sleepy and help with pain. Larger doses can make you feel like you're floating, but wear off quickly.

But the smallest amount is enough to addict a human for life.

It makes them feel like they're invincible. When the high recedes, the crash is brutal. The human loses the will to do anything for days at a time. They lose themselves to a stupor.

And so the only way to make themselves feel better is another dose.

It becomes all they can think of. All they crave.

Too much of it can send a mortal into a fit. Just like that woman Elsie healed in Ilyani.

It's illegal for that reason .

I'm not even that surprised that the pirates are smuggling it.

But what does the human queen, the Eagle of Galmere, legendary icon of justice want with it?

Surely they can't all be fae dust? I look across the row of barrels and take another risk, shrinking a second bung.

Out tumbles hundreds of iridescent... scales.

Too large for a fish. Too small for a shifter.

Sirenae scales.

I fall backwards onto my ass.

No.

No way.

Killing is one thing. But plucking scales from a sentient being is a completely different level.

My pirates wouldn't have...

I trail off. How well do I know them, really?

Goddess, no wonder Klaus was so angry. These are literal pieces of his people.

I glance between the two. Dust and scales. Both completely unrelated except that both barrels carry the crest of the Eagle of Galmere.

Did my pirates steal it? Or are they smuggling it for her?

Either way, why would she want these two things in the first place?

"They're looking for you," Opal hisses in my mind. "Get out of there."

Her voice knocks the sanity back into me, and I frantically mutter a reversal spell, sealing the scales and dust back into the barrels.

The bungs seal themselves back in place just as the lock on the door clicks.

"I told you, I can't scent anyone," Rysen grumbles. "She couldn't have gotten past the door, anyway."

"I can feel something in here. It's faint, but it's there. "

Shit. Valorean.

I can't be caught.

But the light of the crystal lantern they're carrying is headed right this way.

Shit.

My heart jumps into my throat as I consider my options.

Confront them and probably lose since Rysen is a behemoth and Val controls every tiny thing aboard the ship.

Hide and hope they won't catch me. Again, Val will find me.

Run and later make up a plausible excuse as to why my scent was in the hold.

Panicked, I do the only thing I can think of.

"Lady Moon, grant me the power of shadow."

My whisper is barely audible. More a movement of my lips than true words.

Just quiet enough to escape the attention of a vampire listening to his captain rant about witches.

It works.

In seconds I've thrown myself back into the spirit world again. That horrible feeling made a thousand times worse by not having a destination in mind.

I slink through the hold, darting carefully between barrels when they're not looking. A few times, one of them comes too close. But the only trace of me left in the material plane is a shadow in their peripheral vision.

No one ever suspects a stray shadow to be anything but a trick of the light.

I make it out of the door before my grip on the magic weakens.

Tumbling back into the physical world I land on the stairs to the gun deck above. Dry heaving, I send more magic to the sound-muffling sigils on my heels and flee.

I don't stop until I crash through my cabin door .

"You were supposed to keep them distracted!" I hiss at Opal, edging the door closed and turning to face her, lying on the bed.

"I did...until Valorean decided the only way to deal with me was to find you." She gives a very feline snort, then jumps down to the floor, where a very large, very soggy, black mess has been dumped.

"Is that...?"

The ship's flag.

I burst out laughing.

"What did you do to it?" It looks like it's been dragged through the ocean, then clawed at.

Opal ignores the question. "Shouldn't you be disposing of that shirt and working on your alibi?"

She has a good point there.

I rip the shirt over my head, set light to the fabric with a whispered prayer, and hurl the burning mass out of the window.

That done, I head straight for the bathroom, leaving a trail of the rest of my clothes behind me as I strip.

I was prepared for the eventuality that I might need an alibi when I started this crazy plan. So the bath already stands full of water. A whispered prayer heats it up until the air hangs heavy with steam and I slip into it with a sigh.

But my heart's still pounding.

Not long after, I hear the knock on my door.

I pretend I'm oblivious, dunking my head under the water until I'm completely submerged.

When I surface, Val is still knocking.

"Witch! Open up."

I ignore him, tipping more of the colourful salts the twins got me into the tub until the water is a pale purple that obscures my body.

Three. Two. One .

Val flings the door open and storms into the room. From his position, he can see my head and a generous portion of my breasts.

"Wit—"

Whatever Val was going to say trails off. His jaw hangs open. There's a very male appreciation in the depths of his gaze that shouldn't please me as much as it does.

"Can I help you?" I don't manage to keep the bite out of my tone as I raise a single brow.

He manages to close his jaw just as Rysen comes up behind him.

The huge vampire takes one look at the situation and grabs Valorean, throwing him over his shoulder with a mumbled, "Please, forgive us, Lady Solar."

Val's anguished, "Put me down!" echoes through the closing door. "She's still a suspect!"

“She's bathing ," Rysen growls.

I barely manage to hold in my snort of amusement until the door is shut.

But it dies pretty quickly as my mind flashes back to what I found in those barrels.

They can't be responsible...can they?

It's not like I can ask any of them.

Or maybe...maybe I can.