The Girl from Everywhere (The Girl from Everywhere #1)(44)

“Yes, indeed, I see that now.”

“Thank you for your concern,” he said, stalking off to his room.

“You know we’d be stuck here if you died,” I called after him.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “You wouldn’t be stuck,” he said, seeming to speak to the teak of the door. “You would find a way, Nixie. If you really wanted to escape.”

He shut the door behind him, and Blake’s words came back to me. “Why would I? This is home.” I shook them out of my head and slid down to sit against the bulwark, setting my half-empty bowl on my knees, suddenly uncomfortably full. “Ugh.”

“Today put him in a foul mood,” Kashmir said.

“I put him in a foul mood,” I corrected, leaving myself wide open, but Kash didn’t even seem to notice.

“Then today made it worse.” He tipped his own bowl and scraped the bottom with his spoon. Then he sat beside me and took my bowl from my hands.

“What happened?”

He made a face. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah. Shoot.”

“Ha ha. Well. We’ve encountered a few obstacles, the biggest one the weight of the gold. There’s no way to carry it away without help. Or at least a couple of draft horses. There’s also the Royal Hawaiian Guard to consider. It’s only fifty local boys in nice uniforms, but all it takes is one lucky shot. Slate was talking about hiring mercenaries, but—”

“Ugh, not really?”

Kashmir shrugged. “He didn’t seem happy about it.”

“Where would he find them? The map ends a hundred miles out to sea. How would we get back here? And can you imagine having mercenaries aboard? Or, God, unleashing them here?”

“I don’t know, amira. It’s a last resort. He doesn’t want any bloodshed.”

“Well, then, he shouldn’t be considering piracy.”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

I scoffed. “If I did, I wouldn’t share them with the captain.”

“Pourquois non?” he said. “It will never actually happen. You and I will get the map first. But in the meantime, you could get back in his good graces if you would just promise to try to help him.”

I made a face. “That’s dishonest.”

“Heaven forefend you lie so you can steal. He’s thinking of giving you the evening watch on the night of the ball.” My jaw dropped, and Kashmir shrugged. “I told you. He’s in a foul mood.”

“But I have to be there!”

“I’m sure I can manage without you, amira.”

“No, I mean . . . I’m expected.” It felt like a confession. “Mr. Hart asked me to come.”

“He asked all of us to come.”

“No, I mean, he asked again later. After the hike.”

Kashmir’s spoon stopped in midair. “After the what?”

“I was trying to reconnoiter, like you! Only I didn’t have much success.”

“You were trying . . .” His brow furrowed like he was trying to picture it. “Amira . . . what exactly did you say to him? Tell me you didn’t tip our hand!”

“I don’t think so. We did talk about maps, but it was a part of a previous conversation—”

“You mentioned the map? The map we want to steal? The map his father is using to barter for treason?”

“It wasn’t like that! And he might not be on their side, at any rate. When we were at the waterfall, he was going on about paradise. . . .” I trailed off. Kashmir was shaking his head as though in awe. My cheeks went hot.

“Next time, amira,” he said at last, “leave the reconnoitering to me.”

“Understood.” I dropped my chin, letting my hair fall over my face.

We were quiet for a while as he scraped the bottom of his bowl with the spoon. “You’d met the boy before.”

“In Chinatown, yes.”

“By luck or by design, do you think?”

“Oh, luck. Definitely.”

He arched one eyebrow. “His or yours?”

I cocked my head at him. “Kashmir. Are you jealous?” I teased. He didn’t laugh, though; his expression didn’t change at all. An odd fluttering flew into my throat, and I swallowed it down. “What? Do you think he’s in on the plot?”

“Oh, no, nothing so grand! But there’s more than one reason to spy on a pretty girl.” Kashmir stood up, taking the bowls, then he flashed me his teeth. “I told you you looked like a hussy.”

“Takes one to know one,” I called as he went below, but my heart wasn’t in it. And that night when I changed clothes, I found myself staring into the mirror and wondering what Blake saw when he looked at me.



The next few days were busy.

The captain had accepted my offer of help with a huge grin and a bear hug, but it left a sour taste in my mouth—and not only because it went against what I had told him before. Ever since the hike, Mr. D’s request had seemed particularly odious. But Slate and Kashmir were away from the ship for long hours of the day and night, and the captain didn’t have time to ask me whether or not I’d made any progress on the challenges inherent in the theft.

I ended up having to pitch in on his watches, which we’d started keeping strictly since Mr. D’s visit, but instead of studying the maps, I spent my time reading the paper. The majority of the articles were depressing items about Princess Pauahi evincing the Victorian obsession with death: her funeral was to be held on the second of November, her husband was sick with grief.. But alongside those morbid tidbits, other stories stood out.