Into the Bright Unknown (The Gold Seer Trilogy #3)(28)

Our group, which had been wandering and inspecting independently, converges at the center of the deck. Melancthon points to the front of the ship. “That’s the foaksul . . .”

“Pardon me, the what?” asks Tom. “Could you spell that please?”

“F-O-R-E-C-A-S-T-L-E.”

“Ah,” says Tom, as if this makes perfect sense.

“Forecastle?” I ask.

“That’s what I said!” Melancthon points in the other direction. “And that’s the quarter deck, and there in the rear, that’s the poop deck.”

Olive turns to her mother. “Ma, did he just say poop deck?”

“I’m certain you misheard,” Becky says.

“It’s from la poupe, the French word for the stern of the ship,” Henry explains. “Which, in turn, is derived from the Latin word puppis.”

“La poop, la poop, la poop,” Andrew says. His mother turns scarlet.

This is all going terribly off track. “Maybe I can just tell you what I want, and you can tell me if it can be done, and, if so, how fast you can do it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Melancthon says.

“I’d like separate rooms for us to sleep in, and a larger room where we can meet.”

“We already did the first part, turning the crew deck into cabins, before we picked up the passengers in Panama. I can take you down the main hatchway and show you. And the galley, where we serve meals, that’s already as good a room as any to meet in.”

This may turn out easier than I’d hoped. “What about storage? Is there room enough to stable our horses and store our wagon?”

He points to a hatchway at the center of the ship, currently covered by a tarp. “For certain. We transported some cattle in the hold, at least until it was time to eat them.”

Even better. “What about putting a door in the side of the ship, so we can take the horses in and out just like a stable?”

Melancthon goes pale and takes a step backward. “You want to put a . . . hole in the side of the Charlotte?”

“Two holes,” I clarify. “One that would lead to the cargo hold, where we could stable the horses and store the wagon, but move them in and out easily. And then another one right here at the front of the ship, so we can walk in and out without climbing up the gangplank.”

“But . . . my ship . . .”

“Is never going to sail again. I’ll pay you to do the work, daily wages, whatever a carpenter makes in San Francisco right now. So if you can’t find a ship to hire you, by the time you’re done working for us, you can buy passage on one. This is your way out of California. In the meantime, you can stay aboard for as long as we’re on the ship. Rent free.”

The light comes back into his eyes. “So you’re going to settle here in San Francisco?” he asks.

It’s a reasonable deduction, but I’m not eager to explain our plans to a stranger. “That remains to be seen. But look, no hard feelings if you don’t want to do the work. I’ll just hire a different carpenter, and you can find somewhere else to stay.”

He shrugs. “I guess I’ll get started.”

“Stable for the horses is the highest priority,” I tell him. I’m nervous about leaving them tied up outside, especially Peony, who’s been stolen once already.

“That’s smart, ma’am,” Melancthon says. “Every horse thief in San Francisco will take notice of that pretty palomino of yours.”

“It’s settled, then. Can you show us to the cabins below? And the meeting room?”

“Cabins and galley. Yes, ma’am. If you’ll all follow me this way.”

As we crowd together toward a ladder, Becky leans over and whispers, “You handled that very well.”

“I did?”

“Once you started giving orders, he never once looked to any of the men for confirmation.” She squeezes my arm.

Jefferson comes up on the other side. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Huh?”

He nods at my right hand. “You’re the only one holding a gun, which kinda demands attention. And you tend to jab with it emphatically whenever you’re making a point.”

“I do not jab.”

“You jab.”

He points again. My arm is tensed and I’m thrusting the barrel of the gun at his feet while I talk.

“Huh. I never noticed that before.”

Melancthon has been a good caretaker, and the area below decks is spick-and-span. Our steps have a hollow sound that will take some getting used to. Thin wooden walls divide the lower deck into eight smaller cabins, most outfitted with cots or beds. It’s not the same as private rooms, but they’re semiprivate. Tom and Henry take one together. Becky takes a larger one for herself and the children. She invites me to join them, but there’s plenty of room, and Jasper, Jefferson, the Major, and I each take cabins for ourselves. Four empty cots make mine feel a little lonely, especially after we’ve all been piled on top of each other for days.

Henry sticks his head in the door. “This was a really good idea,” he says. “A perfect base of operations for going after Hardwick.”

I grin. “We are going to destroy him. Get everyone together in the galley—I’ll be there in a minute.”