Shadow Road: Book 1 of the Shadows Rising Trilogy

30. The Return of the Civilians

31st of Uirra

Arramy came into the council room after breakfast this morning. He must have been standing the dawn watch; a thick, fluffy layer of fresh snow lay on his shoulders and the top of his hat, proof of the last-of-winter storm that had come skulking up on us in the night.

He stopped short in the doorway, his eyes widening as if he were surprised to find NaVarre and I sitting across from each other at the table, where we were going over all the documents again with a magnifying lens, on the hunt for any other hidden messages we might have missed.

Arramy's brows lowered into a frown. "I want the civilians brought over to the Stryka," he announced, then came all the way in and shut the door behind him, stomping slush from his boots and undoing the togs of his heavy winter longcoat.

NaVarre looked up from my father's letters.

I put down the magnifying lens.

"The women are tired of living in a floating tent." Arramy peeled off his coat and his soaking wet gloves and tossed them over the back of the chair at the other end of the table. "The children need proper shelter. Seas are quiet now, but this storm is going to get worse before it gets better... And having them gone will allow your crew to work on repairs without threat of mutiny. Or haven't you noticed the glares your men are getting?"

NaVarre pursed his lips for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Miss Warring can come over to the Ang with me."

Arramy gave him an unimpressed stare. "That's for Miss Warring to decide."

"I'm sure she'll agree —" NaVarre began, but I cut him off.

"I'd rather stay here."

Arramy smirked. It was barely a twitch of his lips, but I saw it. I almost informed him that I wasn't staying because of him, but because I didn't feel like being dangled over the ocean in that swing again. That, and I wanted to see the other survivors again, but mostly the dangling.

NaVarre sighed and sat back hard in his chair. He glanced over at me, then relented. "Fine. For now. But you'll have to stay on the quarterdeck. No socializing."

Perplexed, I turned to look at him. "You, of all people, should know what that will look like. You're asking me to stay separated from the other women, either in my own cabin, or on a ship full of pirates. Do you know what they're going to say? They're going to say, 'Look! There is that girl that gets all the special favors! She doesn't have to stay in the hold with the rest of us. And why did the Captain take her over all by herself and set her up so nicely in a cabin of her very own?' That's what they're going to say. What do you think the answer to that question will be?"

I fixed him with a falsely sweet grin. "I can promise you, it won't be, 'She has taken up knitting.'" I shook my head, grin fading. "Angry tongues can sink a ship. I've already caused enough trouble."

NaVarre's lips actually curled into a wry smile, but then he sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I know what it'll look like," he acknowledged. "But we don't know who sabotaged the Galvania. Until we do, I don't want you anywhere near the other civilians. If they're coming over here, and you refuse to go over to the Ang, you'll have to stay on the quarterdeck."

My jaw went slack. That thought had never crossed my mind. Not once. I was about to object, to say that I had survived alongside those people, and I was sure none of them could possibly have done such a thing, but my objection fell flat. He was right, blast him. There wasn't actually any way I could be completely sure.

Teeth pressed tight together, I braced my elbows on the table and rested my forehead in my palms, pressing my thumbs into the ache burgeoning behind my temples. I had been looking forward to seeing the women again. I wanted to make sure Laffa was getting decent food to eat, and that she had a comfortable place to sleep. Now they were finally coming over, and I wouldn't be able to see her anyway. Still. At least she'd be on the same ship.