Smoke and Iron (The Great Library #4)(17)

“I need to speak with Anit,” Khalila said. “Please.”

“No access.”

“Tell her it’s a private matter.”

“Don’t care,” the first sailor said, and shoved her back. “Move on. Now. Before I feed you to the fish.”

“Not without my express permission you don’t.” Anit’s voice came from the door to the bridge, and when Khalila looked up, she saw the girl watching them. Assessing. “What kind of private matter?”

“The kind I don’t prefer to talk about with them listening,” Khalila said. “Please.”

Anit came down the steps, waved the sailors a few steps away, and waited with her arms folded. She was in no danger; there were at least ten men only feet away who, though intent on their own business on deck, would certainly come running at her call.

And, of course, Anit could very likely defend herself.

“You have something to ask?” Anit prompted.

“I assume you have a woman’s monthly supplies,” Khalila said. “There are none in my cabin. I’m afraid I’ve already stained a dress.” She pitched her voice loud enough that the sailors could hear and smiled as she saw them draw back. She could never fathom how men failed to come to grips with the workings of a woman’s body.

“No one provided you with—” Anit let out a frustrated sigh. “Of course they didn’t. They didn’t even consider it. Glain must need some as well. Please come with me. I’ll give you what I can from my own stores.” She glanced at the sailors and rolled her eyes. “No need to accompany me,” she told them. “I’ll be fine.”

Anit led her off to the large cabin she occupied on the ship, and as she opened cabinets and took down a box of menstrual pads, she said, “So what is it you really want to talk about?”

“Oh, I do need these—believe me. I have no doubt I’ll be bleeding in a day or so. But you’re right: I also needed to talk about our situation.”

“Situation.” Anit found a small canvas bag and began to load it up. “I’ve doubled the supplies. You can share with Glain.” There was a small hesitation in her voice, something that set Khalila on alert. She put her hand lightly on Anit’s arm and felt the girl tense. Careful, she told herself. She could easily turn this wrong.

“Why did you change your mind?”

Anit’s hands suddenly stilled, and she looked up at Khalila. For a moment, Khalila was sure the girl would answer, but then her look flattened, darkened, and she thrust the bag into Khalila’s hands. “You should go.”

“Anit . . .” Khalila took a deep breath. “I understand that your father ordered you to change our agreement. No one blames you. I don’t blame you. But it’s clear you’re taking us to Alexandria. You know what will happen to us.”

“You should go,” Anit said. “Now.”

“Not until I know what he threatened to make you betray your agreement. I know your word means everything to you.”

“I can have you removed.”

“Yes. You can call your sailors. You can lock us in our rooms. Drop me overboard, should you wish—” The flinch and widened eyes from Anit made Khalila press on. “Are those your father’s orders? To put us over the side?”

“Not all of you,” Anit said. “Only the one with no value to the Archivist.”

“You mean Glain.”

“Yes.”

“When is it to happen?”

“I have my orders, Khalila.”

“I’m not asking you to go against them. I’m asking you to tell me when they plan to kill her so we can come to her defense. That leaves you entirely out of it.”

Anit looked away and said, “I didn’t want this. We had an agreement. But . . . my father has made promises, important promises. I can’t go against him on this.”

“I understand,” Khalila said. “When will they take Glain?”

Anit didn’t meet her eyes. “Tonight. They’ll drug your food and drink so there’s no interference.”

“Will they drug all of us? Or only Glain and myself, since we share the cabin?”

“Just the two of you,” Anit admitted. “But if you don’t eat it, they’ll know I warned you.”

Khalila nodded. “I’ll eat it. But all the same, the others might accidentally see it happen and come to her rescue.”

“They’d best be prepared to fight,” Anit said.

“Which among us is the most valuable?”

“Thomas. And Captain Santi.”

Khalila cocked her head and frowned. “Santi? I’d have thought he’d have gone over the side with Glain. He’s no one to ransom him. What use does he have of value to the Archivist?”

“It isn’t about ransom,” Anit said. This time, she did meet Khalila’s eyes, but only for an instant, and then she turned away and wrapped both arms around herself, as if feeling the chill. “The Archivist wants to punish Wolfe. He can use Santi to hurt him.”

The depth of depravity in that made Khalila feel sick. That someone so powerful should use that power so cruelly . . . and so randomly. There was a deep, personal anger there, one that she was glad she couldn’t understand. “All right,” she said. “Thank you for these. I appreciate the kindness.”