Fable (Fable #1)(39)

I tried to imagine him as a little boy—a Waterside stray. So many traders got their start that way, plucked up from the dirty streets by a crew and worked to the bone. Many found their ends on the sea, but a few rose up the ranks to take valuable positions on important ships, sailing across the Narrows and some, even into the Unnamed Sea.

When we made our stops in Ceros on Saint’s trading routes, I would watch the children on Waterside, wishing I had playmates like them. I had no idea they were starving or that most of them had no families.

Once the sail I’d repaired was stretched out beside the others, I lowered myself down the mast. West watched me walk toward him, bristling only enough for me to barely see that he was still angry.

“I don’t like not being of use,” I said, stepping in front of him so he had to look at me.

“You’re not a part of this crew.” The words stung, though I wasn’t sure why. “You’re a passenger.”

“I’ve already paid you. If I get myself killed before we get to Ceros, you’ve still got my coin.”

His eyes shifted then, running over me. There was more behind what he was saying, but I could see by the look on his face that he wasn’t going to give me anything else. There were a lot of demons on this ship, and West seemed to have the most of all.

“Is Saint’s outpost still in the Pinch?” I leaned into the post beside him.

“Yes.”

“Willa thinks he won’t take me on.”

“She’s right.”

I watched his hand slide down the handle to catch the spoke of the helm. “He took you on.”

“And it cost me.”

“What do you mean?”

He put the words together before he said them aloud. “Nothing comes free, Fable. We both know that surviving means sometimes doing things that haunt you.”

The words made me feel even more unsteady. Because he was talking about the man in the crate. But what was there to say? The man was dead. It was done. As horrified as I was by it, I understood it. And that single thought truly scared me.

“What else have you done that haunts you?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t answer.

There was an ocean of lies dragging behind this ship. They’d killed their dredger and another helmsman’s stryker. Whatever they’d done in Sowan was spreading in rumors across the Narrows. And if that wasn’t enough, they were running side trade under the nose of their own employer. Saint.

No matter how much he may have changed in the time since I last saw him, my father was still my father. He wouldn’t hesitate to do worse to West than the crew of the Marigold had done to Crane. I didn’t want to see that happen.

I was scared for West.

I’d only ever bartered with him at the barrier islands when he came to Jeval, but it was his coin that had kept me fed, and in the two years since I first met him, he’d never failed to show. He’d saved my life more times than I could count, even if he hadn’t meant to.

When I got off the Marigold in Ceros, I’d probably never see him again. And I didn’t want to worry about what became of him.

“I don’t care what you’ve done. When I showed up on the docks at the barrier islands, you didn’t have to help me.”

“Yes, I did,” he said, his face unreadable.

The words worked their way beneath my skin. They snatched the air from my chest. And just as I was about to ask why, his eyes lifted, focusing on something in the distance. I turned, following his gaze to the horizon, where the soft orange glow of light was just coming into view.

Ceros.

And there, in the twinkling lantern light, was the only future I had waiting for me.





TWENTY



Dawn broke as we entered the harbor. I stood at the bow as Auster tied off the last bandage, watching the city come closer. For four years, I’d dreamed of the moment I would reach Ceros, and now that it was here, all I could think about was the moment I would see my father’s face. Wondering what he’d say. What he’d do.

The stone buildings crowded into one another, sprawling down the hill that led to the water. The early light reflected off the square window glass as the sun rose behind me, making the city look like it was studded with diamonds. And suspended above it all, an intricate grid of rope bridges hung, already filled with people making their way across the city.

“Keep them clean.” Auster waited for me to nod in answer before he picked up the pail at his feet and climbed the mast.

I looked down at my scraped hands, now wrapped in white linen strips. The fever and the swelling along the cuts on my shoulders had begun to fade and my lip was beginning to heal. In the end, I’d have more than one scar to remember the journey across the Narrows by.

Auster’s shadow danced on the deck as he balanced in the lines with the seabirds overhead, their wings stretched against the wind. He threw a perch into the air and one caught it in its mouth as another landed on his shoulder. I couldn’t help wondering if what my father had always said about the birds was true. If it was, maybe one of them was Crane.

The crew readied the Marigold to dock, and by the look of the other ships in the harbor, I could see that we weren’t the only ones who’d come through the storm. Split masts, torn sails, and scraped hulls marked several other vessels down the line. The dock crews would make good coin for the next week, their livelihoods often dependent on the faithful storms that plagued the Narrows.