It had taken Kjellrunn a restless night to get up the necessary courage. Her frustration and dismay had grown with every hour that passed, and with every league they sailed further south.
‘We have to go back. They won’t stand a chance.’
‘We have to, do we?’ Romola shook her head and moved around the table to pour a drink. ‘Let me tell you how it works.’ She poured two tots of rum and downed the first before she’d finished pouring the second. ‘The Empire has graduates or cast-offs from the Vozdukha Academy in most towns, especially the ports. They’re not Vigilants but ones with a gift for sending whispers on the wind, right? Messages can be sent for leagues with the arcane, far faster than men on horseback or birds with scraps of parchment tied to their legs. Word of your street fight may have spread across the Empire by now. The Emperor himself will be spitting blood when he finds out.’
‘The Emperor is hundreds of miles away!’
‘But his soldiers are close. Closer than we think sometimes. They’ll be looking for us, just as Imperial ships will be looking for us.’
‘Then we’ll fight!’ replied Kjellrunn.
Romola raised an incredulous eyebrow. ‘Like you fought in Virag?’
Kjellrunn felt the anger drain out of her.
‘I’m a smuggler, not an admiral,’ replied Romola. ‘And the Watcher’s Wait is a fast frigate. She can’t take on those big Imperial galleons. She just doesn’t have it in her.’
For a moment the woman and girl eyed each other over the captain’s table. The ship creaked as it voyaged further south.
‘What will happen to them?’ said Kjellrunn quietly. ‘Do you even care?’
‘I care about plenty of things. My crew, my ship, my skin. And I care about rum, of course.’ Romola knocked back the second tot. ‘Marek and Steiner are more than capable of slipping out of a city unnoticed. Maybe you forgot, but Steiner the Unbroken escaped from Vladibogdan. I don’t think Virag will give him any problems.’
‘You don’t understand,’ said Kjellrunn, hating the pleading note in her voice. ‘I may never see them again.’
‘But you’ll be alive to miss them. And so will I. The Watcher’s Wait is not returning to Virag, Kjellrunn. You can get off at the next port if you don’t like it, but we are not going back.’
The door to the captain’s cabin slammed open and a tall woman with red hair entered, one of the crew. Kjellrunn scowled but the pirate simply grinned.
‘Hello!’ She turned to Romola. ‘Here’s the inventory you asked for.’
Romola took the parchment from the tall pirate and it was clear the conversation was over. Kjellrunn sighed in defeat. She slunk out of the cabin, not bothering to close the door behind her.
She was halfway across the deck of the ship when her fingers strayed to the hammer brooch her father had given her.
‘None of this would be happening if you’d just stayed pinned to my cloak.’
The brooch had no answer, which only put her in an even worse mood.
Kjellrunn spent the afternoon sitting in the prow of the ship running over her conversation with Romola and cursing herself for not persuading the captain to turn around. She’d wrapped herself in her cloak so that it came up under her nose and only the top of her face could be seen. The gunwales shielded her from the worst of the wind, but the weather was cold enough that she half considered going below decks. It was almost nightfall when Mistress Kamalov appeared on deck. Trine, the fire-breathing novice, hovered nearby, shooting dark looks at any sailors who came too close to the old woman. The renegade Vigilant hobbled across the deck and Kjellrunn felt another pang of irritation.
‘You hurt no one but yourself when you don’t eat.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ replied Kjellrunn, looking up to the rigging in order to avoid the older woman’s eyes.
‘As you wish. The food is gone now. Too many mouths to feed.’
‘I just want to be left alone.’
‘It’s right that you are upset for your family, but you must see the sense in the captain’s decision.’
‘I must, must I?’
‘It was going to happen anyway, Kjellrunn.’ Mistress Kamalov rested a hand on the side of the ship, supporting herself as the waves rocked the slender vessel. ‘Your brother would have disembarked sooner or later. He is keen to take the fight to the Empire. His path is not yours—’
‘His path is going to get him killed!’ Kjellrunn stood up, feeling the familiar heat of her anger stoked to life once more. ‘What was the point of escaping Vladibogdan if he’s going to run back to the Empire so that they can kill him?’
‘He has found his purpose, Kjellrunn. Now you must find yours.’
‘Purpose? What purpose? The Empire has taken everything from me. My home, my father, my brother, my uncle.’ Her voice broke slightly. ‘I never had the chance to meet my mother.’ Mistress Kamalov shook her head, pursing her lips in a look of disappointment Kjellrunn knew all too well.
‘And you are the only person aboard to have lost something precious to the Empire, I suppose?’
Kjellrunn turned her back on the renegade Vigilant. ‘I just want to be left alone.’
‘Soon we will reach Shanisrond,’ said Mistress Kamalov. ‘Where people with witchsign are not hunted. We can live quietly with the novices.’
‘And I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what happened to my family, wondering if they’re still alive. What’s the point? I want to get my family back and I’m going to leave this stupid ship and find them.’
Mistress Kamalov bowed her head and made her way back across the deck. Trine did not follow, but eyed Kjellrunn with a curious, unfriendly stare.
‘Hoy there,’ said Kjellrunn, more out of habit than any desire to speak to the girl.
‘Are you always such a whining bitch?’ replied Trine.
Kjellrunn stepped forward. ‘They’re my family. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I imagine the Vigilants stripped all the decency out of you on the island.’
‘Mistress Kamalov said you were her best student, but you just seem like a snivelling child to me.’
‘You have some some cheek. Those six children might still be alive if you hadn’t snuck off in Virag.’ Trine’s eyes widened in surprise at Kjellrunn’s rebuke. ‘Perhaps you’ll consider other people in future, now that you have blood on your hands.’
Trine shrank back a step, shaken by Kjellrunn’s words, then remembered herself and followed after Mistress Kamalov. Kjellrunn watched her go, anger beating loudly with her pulse. She slumped down in the prow, tired beyond reason with tears of loneliness brimming at the corner of her eyes. Maybe she was a snivelling child, she decided. A snivelling child who wanted nothing more than her family returned to her safely.
The scent of pipe smoke and the sound of soft voices woke her. Sundra and Tief had sat down next to her and were chatting.
‘What time is it?’
‘Too late to be sleeping on deck when you have a perfectly reasonable cabin,’ said Tief with a crooked smile. He toked on the pipe and breathed out a few smoke rings. ‘What foolishness is this?’
‘I had an argument with Mistress Kamalov. Two actually.’
‘You and your brother have a fine gift for stubbornness,’ said Sundra. She stared up at the night sky and clucked her tongue. ‘I do miss that boy.’
Kjellrunn felt the beginnings of tears at