The Assassin's Curse

  "We got the food for it?"

  "We can make do."

  I shrugged. "Well, if you don't wa

  "I might be able to shave it down." She wrote some figures in her logbook, crossing them out, scrawling in new ones. When she turned her attention back to the map, I asked if I could take a look.

  "At my notes?"

  I felt myself go hot, but I got over my pride enough to nod. "I always wanted…" My voice kinda trailed off. Marjani handed the logbook over to me.

  "Wanted to learn navigation?"

  I nodded.

  "It's not terribly hard, once you know the mathematics behind it."

  "Most mathematics I ever learned was how to count coins." I wanted to ask her about university, but she was frowning down at the map again. I ran my fingers over the dried ink of the logbook, reading through her scratched-out notes, all those calculations of speed and direction and days lost.

  "I might have time to start teaching you," she said, interrupting our silence. Her divider scritch scritch scritched across the map. "Especially with this detour."

  I looked hard at the logbook.

  "I'd like that," I said. "I'd like that a whole lot."

That night, Naji emerged from the crew's quarters and slunk up on deck. The wind was calm and favorable, pushing us north toward the ice-islands, out of the path of the sirens. The captain had issued the orders to change directions that afternoon, and the crew had scrambled to work without so much as a grunt of complaint. I wondered what would've happened if Marjani had issued the order. Or me.

  "Something's different," Naji said, sidling up beside me. I was standing next to the railing, looking out at the black ocean. "We aren't going in the same direction."

  "You can tell that?"

  "Yes." He frowned. "We were going east, now we're going north. Did you manage to convince them to take us–"

  I smacked him hard on the arm. "Are you crazy? Don't say that out loud!" Nobody was near us, though. The crew kept clear of Naji, though they sure saw fit to gossip about him whenever he was hidden away belowdeck.

  "And no," I said. "We're still headed for Port Idai. But we're having to detour on account of some sirens."

  "Sirens?" Naji stared out at the darkness. "I hate the ocean."

  That made me sad. Sure, sirens are a pain in the ass, but how could he not see all the beauty that was out there – the starlight leaving stains of brightness in the water, the salt-kissed wind? I wanted to find a way to share it with him, show him there was more in the world than blood and shadow. The ocean was a part of me – couldn't he see that?

  Of course he couldn't. He barely saw me half the time, plain and weatherworn and frizzy-haired.

  "How far north is the detour taking us?" he asked.

  I shrugged. "A couple weeks out of our way."

  "That's not what I asked."

  I looked over at him. His face was hard and expressionless. "I ain't sure," I said. "Not so far we have to worry about ice in the rigging."

  Naji frowned. "Are you wearing that charm I made you?"

  Course I was, though my wearing it didn't have nothing to do with protection. Still, I nodded.

  "Good," Naji said. "Don't take it off."

  I knew there was something he wasn't telling me, probably something about the Mists, and as much as Naji claimed to hate the ocean he sure seemed content to stare all gloomy at the waves.

  "It ain't so bad," I said.

  "What isn't?"

  "Being out here." I glanced at him. "I know something's got you spooked, but I'm safer here. Ain't been in danger once. So there ain't been no hurt for you."

  The wind pushed Naji's hair across his face, peeling it away from his scar.

  "You haven't been attacked, that's true." He sighed. "But you spend all day scampering among the ropes like a monkey."

  "That hurts?" I was almost offended. I've been messing about in ship's rigging since I was four years old. It's about as dangerous as walking.

  "Not really," Naji said. "I get a headache sometimes." He looked at me. "But you could fall."

  "In fair weather like this? Not a chance." I frowned.

  The water slapped against the side of the boat, misting sea spray across my face and shoulders. The ocean trying to join in on your conversation, Mama always told me. It's her way of giving advice.

  Naji let out a long sigh and wiped at his brow with his sleeve. "I'm going back to the crew's quarters."

  "Wait."

  He actually stopped.

  "Listen," I said. "First off, it ain't healthy for you to stay down below so much. You're go

  "Alright," he said. "What does that have to do with me?"

  The words hit me like one of Mama's open-hand slaps. "Because," I said, faltering. "You… you're educated. I thought you could…"

  He was staring at me, only his face wasn't stony and angry no more.

  "I thought you could help me." I looked down at my feet, my face hot like we were out in the sun. "Marjani's so busy, you know, and I thought – and you spend so much time by yourself."

  "Oh." He took a step or two closer to me. He was close enough that I got these little shivers up and down my spine.

  "It'd give you something to do," I said.

  "Yes." He paused, and I lifted up my head to look at him. He had his eyes on me. They were the same color as the ocean at night. "Mathematics were not my strong suit, I'm afraid."