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“Why?” The question was sharp and painful a knife. It cut into me and I knew I deserved it. “Why did you do it?”
“You should change,” I muttered. “Before we go back into town.”
He glared at me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think… I didn’t do it on purpose.” I still couldn’t look at him. “And your face doesn’t look like a half-roasted pig anyway.”
Silence. The wind blew in from the ocean, stirring up sand and dust.
“You have no idea what it’s like,” Naji said.
CHAPTER SIX
Marjani had already set up at the Starshot drinkhouse, claiming a table in the back, away from the singer warbling some old Confederation tunes. I threaded through the crowd, Naji behind me in his captain’s outfit. It suited him, I thought, especially the brocade coat. Before he’d covered up his face – with a scarf I nicked for him off one of the carts outside – he’d been so handsome my chest hurt to look at him.
When she saw us, Marjani folded her arms over her chest.
“Take it off,” she said.
“No,” I told her, before Naji could say anything.
She flicked her eyes over to me.
“It makes him look more formidable,” I said.
“I’m not leaving my face uncovered,” Naji said.
Marjani sighed. “No one’s going to say anything–”
“Yes,” Naji said. “They will.”
I stepped in between the two of them and said, “We should probably do this fast. Manticore’s go
Marjani sighed. “Yes, I’d thought of that myself. You stay here and get the drunks. I’ll go out in the street and look for the desperates.”
And then she was out the door.
It didn’t take long for word to circulate that the Pirate Namir yi Nadir was in port and that he was signing up men for his new crew. Probably helped that an Empire warship flying pirate colors was waiting out in the docks, but mostly it was the fact that pirates can’t keep their mouths shut for longer than five minutes. It occurred to me that leaving port early probably wasn’t go
All that time on the Isles of the Sky, with no company but Naji and the manticore, had left me soft. Not wary enough, like the Mist woman had said.
So I snuck out back and slipped down the street till I came to a shop selling scarves and jewelry. I bought a pair of scarves and covered my face the way Naji did and wrapped my hair up in the Empire style, though with a black scarf instead of a red one. The cloak hid my chest well enough. I figured I could pass for a man.
“And who the hell are you supposed to be?” Marjani asked when she came back in with some men she’d picked up off the streets.
“The rat who got Captain Namir yi Nadir the ship,” I said.
She frowned. I could tell she didn’t approve. Messed up his reputation, having a ship handed to him on account of subterfuge.
“A prisoner?” I said. “Who agreed to sail under his colors? And by allowing me my freedom we can see the extent of his mercy?”
“Better,” Marjani said. “And the mask?”
“A show of solidarity.”
She didn’t push that none, neither. I don’t know why I hadn’t yet told her about the Hariri clan. Felt bad about lying in the first place, I guess. And she’d had this all pla
I’d just keep my face covered, and we’d be fine.
It was mostly Marjani who did the recruiting anyway. She’d done it before, I could tell. Even now that she was back in the drinkhouse, she didn’t just sit down and wait for men to come to her – she wove through the place, Naji trailing behind her like a puppy, dodging whores and serving girls and the worthless outlaws who came out here not knowing one whit about sailing a ship. She had an eye for the ones that would know what they were doing, and she knew how to catch ’em at their drunkest, when they would slap an X on anything you stuck in front of ’em.
She left me in charge of the table, in case anyone came asking. I leaned back in my chair and sipped from my pint of beer and tried not to think about Naji.
“Excuse me? This where I sign up to sail with Captain Namir yi Nadir’s crew?”
The voice was speaking Empire all posh and educated, and when I dropped down in my chair and looked up I saw one of the soldiers we’d cut free when we made port.
“What you want to sail with us for?”
“Are you the manticore’s trainer?” The soldier reached over and plucked at the mask. I slapped his hand away.
“I ain’t her trainer. And we ain’t taking on mutineers.”
“I’m not a mutineer.” The soldier sat down at the table. “Where are you sailing?”
I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Well?”
Marjani had given me some story or another, but most of it had slipped out of my head due to drink. “Captain’s sailing after treasure.”
“All pirates sail after treasure,” the soldier said. “What in particular is he looking for?”
I fixed him my steeliest glare. “Gotta ask him yourself.”
The soldier looked me right in the eye. “I will. Once I’m onboard your ship. What about that manticore? She sailing with us, too?”
That, at least, I could answer. “At least as far as the Island of the Sun. She and I made a deal, and now I’m making good on it and taking her home.”
The soldier arched his eyebrow. “You made a deal with a manticore?”
I shrugged.
“Well,” he said. “That if nothing else has convinced me.” He grabbed the name sheet and the quill Marjani had left with me. I tried to snatch it away from him – no luck. “There isn’t an Empire general alive who could make a deal with a manticore and survive.” He scrawled his name across the sheet. Jeric yi Niru. The yi gave him away as nobility, I knew, and I knew too his nobility was real, since no Empire soldier would lie about his status the way a pirate would – the way, for example, Marjani had lied about the status of the pirate Namir yi Nadir. I scowled at the sheet.
“I’ll feed you to the manticore first sign of trouble,” I told him.
He gave me a smile. He was older, with streaks of gray in his hair, although his skin wasn’t as weatherworn as it would’ve been had he spent his whole life at sea.
“The Empire look suits you,” he said before turning away and heading off toward one of the serving maids. I don’t trust handsome people, and he wasn’t handsome in the slightest. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Snakeheart!”
He looked over at me. “I’m not an Empire soldier anymore. I’m afraid the epithet no longer fits.”
“We set sail at sunrise tomorrow. You’re not there, we’re leaving you.”
He gave me a nod.
“And I ain’t kidding about the manticore!”
He just laughed, which pissed me off. I wanted to shout something back to him, but he was talking to the serving girl again, leaning in close to her, and I figured he wasn’t go
Marjani and Captain Namir yi Nadir came back about thirty minutes later. I hadn’t gotten anybody to sign up save for Jeric yi Niru, who seemed to have stashed himself in a corner with a pitcher of ale. Marjani handed me her logbook, folded open to the first page. There were names spelled out in her neat, tidy handwriting down one side, a row of mostly Xs cascading down the other, mixed in with the occasional signature.
She tucked my loose sheet of paper, with its one signature, back in the logbook. “Our crew, Captain.”
“Stop calling me that,” said Naji.
“Just getting you used to it,” she said.
Naji turned to me, his eyes big and dark over the edge of his mask. “Are you my decoy?” he asked.