Siege and Storm (Shadow and Bone #2)(21)

I looked at Mal. He lifted a shoulder and said, “He’s a liar and probably insane, but he’s also right. We don’t have much choice.”

I rubbed my temples. I felt a headache coming on. I was tired and confused, and Sturmhond had a way of talking that made me want to shoot someone. Preferably him. But he’d freed us from the Darkling, and once Mal and I were off his ship, we might find our own way to escape. For now, I couldn’t think much beyond that.

“All right,” I said.

He smiled. “So good to know you won’t be drowning us all.” He beckoned a deckhand who had been hovering nearby. “Fetch Tamar and tell her she’ll be sharing her quarters with the Summoner,” he instructed. Then he pointed to Mal. “He can stay with Tolya.”

Before Mal could open his mouth to protest, Sturmhond forestalled him. “That’s the way of things on this ship. I’m giving you both free run of the Volkvolny until we reach Ravka, but I beg you not to trifle with my generous nature. The ship has rules, and I have limits.”

“You and me both,” Mal said through gritted teeth.

I laid my hand on Mal’s arm. I would have felt safer staying together, but this wasn’t the time to quibble with the privateer. “Let it go,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

Mal scowled, then turned on his heel and strode across the deck, disappearing into the ordered chaos of rope and sail. I took a step after him.

“Might want to leave him alone,” Sturmhond said. “That type needs plenty of time for brooding and self-recrimination. Otherwise they get cranky.”

“Do you take anything seriously?”

“Not if I can help it. Makes life so tedious.”

I shook my head. “This client—”

“Don’t bother asking. Needless to say, I’ve had plenty of bidders. You’re in very high demand since you disappeared from the Fold. Of course, most people think you’re dead. Tends to drive the price down. Try not to take it personally.”

I looked across the deck to where the crew were hefting the sea whip’s body over the ship’s rail. With a straining heave, they rolled it over the side of the schooner. It struck the water with a loud splash. That quickly, Rusalye was gone, swallowed by the sea.

A long whistle blew. The crewmen scattered to their stations, and the Squallers took their places. Seconds later, the sails bloomed like great white flowers—the schooner was once more on its way, tacking southeast to Ravka, to home.

“What are you going to do with those scales?” Sturmhond asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you? Despite my dazzling good looks, I’m not quite the pretty fool I appear to be. The Darkling intended for you to wear the sea whip’s scales.”

So why didn’t he kill it? When the Darkling had murdered the stag and placed Morozova’s collar around my neck, he’d bound us forever. I shivered, remembering the way he had reached across that connection, seizing hold of my power as I stood by, helpless. Would the dragon’s scales have given him the same control? And if so, why not take it?

“I already have an amplifier,” I said.

“A powerful one, if the stories are true.”

The most powerful amplifier the world had ever known. So the Darkling had told me, and so I’d believed. But what if there was more to it? What if I’d only touched the beginnings of the stag’s power? I shook my head. That was madness.

“Amplifiers can’t be combined.”

“I saw the book,” he replied. “It certainly looks like they can.”

I felt the weight of the Istorii Sankt’ya in my pocket. Had the Darkling feared I might learn Morozova’s secrets from the pages of a children’s book?

“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” I told Sturmhond. “No Grisha has ever taken a second amplifier. The risks—”

“Now, that’s a word best not used around me. I tend to be overfond of risk.”

“Not this kind,” I said grimly.

“Pity,” he murmured. “If the Darkling catches up to us, I doubt this ship or this crew will survive another battle. A second amplifier might even the odds. Better yet, give us an edge. I do so hate a fair fight.”

“Or it could kill me or sink the ship or create another Shadow Fold, or worse.”

“You certainly have a flare for the dire.”

My fingers snaked into my pocket, seeking out the damp edges of the scales. I had so little information, and my knowledge of Grisha theory was sketchy at best. But this rule had always seemed fairly clear: one Grisha, one amplifier. I remembered the words from one of the convoluted philosophy texts I’d been required to read: “Why can a Grisha possess but one amplifier? I will answer this question instead: What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.” I needed time to think.

“Will you keep your word?” I said at last. “Will you help us escape?” I didn’t know why I bothered asking. If he intended to betray us, he certainly wouldn’t say so.

I expected him to reply with some kind of joke, so I was surprised when he said, “Are you so eager to leave your country behind once again?”

I stilled. All the while, your country suffers. The Darkling had accused me of abandoning Ravka. He was wrong about a lot of things, but I couldn’t help feeling that he was right about that. I’d left my country to the mercy of the Shadow Fold, to a weak king and grasping tyrants like the Darkling and the Apparat. Now, if the rumors could be believed, the Fold was expanding and Ravka was falling apart. Because of the Darkling. Because of the collar. Because of me.