She crept toward the door and tried the latch. Her heart jumped when it gave way. Unlocked? Truly? Either this pirate captain was stupid, or he believed her safe enough aboard his ship. Still, she could not believe he had not posted a guard.
Hardly daring to breathe, she eased the door open and peered through the opening. Nothing. No shouts or challenge. Anna slid into the narrow corridor and glanced in both directions.
One end was dark. At the other end, a ladder extended from the lower decks upward into the sunlight. She took a wary step toward the ladder. And another. She was about to take a third step when a woman’s voice sounded from the nearest hatch.
“Dammit, Andreas. I know what you think of Druss. But she is the key to our puzzle.”
“Maybe.” That was the captain’s voice. “But I can’t trust her.”
“No one asked you to,” another voice said. This one was a man’s voice, slow and cautious. “But Druss loves a good bribe, you know. If we offer enough gold, she might share a few details about that idiot. Besides...”
The conversation dropped into a murmur, but Anna had already guessed they were talking about Aldo Sarrész. She didn’t recognize the name Druss, but if—when—she reached safety, she could send word back to Brun.
Though she was tempted to linger to overhear more of that fascinating conversation, Anna forced herself to continue along the corridor to the ladder. Below, the rungs dropped into a thick darkness that stank of grease and fish and oil. Above her was the sky and open deck. She set both hands on the rails and climbed the ladder, teeth gritted against the pain from her burns. A step below the deck she paused and listened. No alarm had been sounded, but for all she knew, ten pirates stood about waiting for her to show herself.
She poked her head above decks.
Her luck was holding true, she thought as she scanned the ship. Fifty yards of the narrow deck, if that, stretched out from bow to stern. Perhaps ten yards from side to side. She counted four men in view, all of them facing the opposite direction, plus half a dozen boys and girls racing up and down the rigging, hallooing to each other.
Anna scrambled onto the deck, ran to the closest railing, and swung a leg over. For one heart-stopping moment, she paused. All her earlier confidence vanished as she gauged the distance from ship to shore, a distance that seemed to grow with every moment.
Before she could lose her nerve, she dove into the milk-warm water. Felt the shock of salt in the wounds around her wrists. Almost at once, the ship’s roll dragged her back. She kicked hard, again and again. On the fourth try, she broke free of its pull.
Anna sucked down a lungful of air and arrowed through the water as long as she could hold her breath. When she broke the surface again, she had put several dozen yards between herself and the ship. Ahead, the jagged silhouette of trees rose above the watery horizon. Her wrists stung from the burns and the salt water, but she felt a bubbling exhilaration at her escape.
Shouts echoed over the water behind her.
“...over there...”
“...get the captain...”
In a panic, Anna dove beneath the surface and kicked hard toward the shore. Her lungs were burning when she came up for air again. The shore lay much closer, a shallow arc of white sands edged by a thick, dark forest. Beyond, the land rose in a series of hills toward a low, round summit.
More shouts came from the ship.
“...goddamned stupid son of a...”
“...wasn’t anyone keeping watch...”
The captain’s voice cut through the chatter with an order to lower the boats.
Anna didn’t wait to hear more. She struck out for the sandbar, which reached out like a welcoming arm. A wave rolled under her and carried her along toward the shore. The next moment she was in among the breakers. Her hand smacked against the bottom. She grabbed at silt and stone, only to have the waves drag her backwards. Anna sputtered and fought against them, until at last the surf flung her onto the wet sands.
She lay there motionless, hardly able to do more than gasp for air, while the waters surged about her. Then, came the ripple of voices across the water.
“...over there...”
Anna jerked herself onto her feet, coughing and spitting up salt water. Her riding costume tangled about her legs and she tripped, clutching at the nearest tree, only to scrape her hands on the rough bark. She dropped to her knees and cradled her bleeding hands against her chest.
Damn, damn, damn.
She could hear Maté’s lectures even now. Footprints in the sand. Blood on the tree trunks. Threads dangling from every bush and thorn. She’d left a blazing trail for the pirates to follow. How could they miss all the signs?
She took a precious few moments to roll up her trousers before she staggered on through the tangled underbrush. The going became difficult. Rough stones that tripped her. Thorn bushes that snagged her bare arms. The thick vines hanging from the trees.
Once she reached the crest of the hill, she had a clear view of the ocean. She paused, one hand on the tree next to her, one pressed against the stitch in her side. The pirate ship had remained well away from the shore—good. She also spotted two smaller boats sailing toward it. Had they truly given up on her that easily?
The boats pulled alongside the ship. Small figures clambered up rope ladders and a sharp whistle cut through the air. As the crew hauled up the boats, more sails unfurled, filled by an invisible wind. Slowly the ship turned and headed out toward the open sea. The impossible, the improbable had happened. They had given up on her.
Anna sank to the ground. Safe, I’m safe.
Her head felt unnaturally light, as though a fever were coming on, and the burns around her wrists stung. She cradled her head in her hands and breathed slowly. Ei rûf ane gôtter. Komen mir de strôm. Komen mir de kreft.
The cramps in her side eased. The burns on her wrists and ankles stopped bleeding. It would be enough to keep her until she could make it back to Iglazi. She released the magic current and its presence ebbed away, like the tide running out to sea. Another spell whispered erased all its traces. A habit of discipline, which both her father and her tutors had insisted upon.
Anna levered herself to her feet. Her legs felt shaky and unreliable, despite the magic, and with her first few steps, she stumbled and had to catch hold of the nearest tree. She hoped it wasn’t too many miles to the nearest village or town.
“You need help, Lady?”
Anna whirled around and snatched up a rock.
A boy stared back at her, a thin, dark shadow in the midst of the trees. He was no more than twelve or thirteen, skinny and barefoot, wearing only a pair of dark blue trousers tied with a sash. An ugly scar covered one cheek, like a pale spider that had attached itself to his face. Except for the scar, he looked like any of the other children she had seen in Iglazi’s markets, the same hawk nose, the same thick black hair braided in intricate patterns close to his skull. A child, but children could be dangerous too, she reminded herself.
“You want help?” he repeated, in a thick islander accent. Then he offered a grin, easy and cheerful.
Slowly she lowered her hand. “Why should you want to help me?”
He rolled his eyes. “You was running from those pirates,” he said slowly, as if he doubted her ability to comprehend words of more than one syllable. “Maybe I know sommat about them. They like to let you starve here on this spit of sand, then come fetch you after dark. Unless you can magick yourself across the water, just like you magicked yourself better. Can you?”
It took her a few moments to parse his meaning. Oh. Yes. There were a hundred or more known islands in Eddalyon, and a hundred more that had never been mapped. Those pirates had