Page 62 of Saint
The harbor master in Dern would probably have the license checked for forgery before he’d let himself believe it was real. Not that I could blame him. We’d lied through our teeth for years to build what we had, and trust wasn’t something people in the Narrows gave easily. Luckily, we didn’t need it. Trading contracts were the only thing that mattered, and harbor masters had little sway over them.
A few tables over, Nash was watching us. He lifted his cup of tea into the air, giving me an impressed tilt of the head. Even he had to admit we’d been right. Two boys adrift from the shores of Cragsmouth had done the impossible. And I didn’t care how many Saltbloods had filled their pockets with our coin along the way. I was going to get every single one back.
“You think Zola’s got one of those licenses?” Clove asked.
“More than likely,” I guessed. “If he doesn’t already, he will soon.”
He had too many friends, too many favors exchanged, to keep him from the table. I hoped a new license was distraction enough to keep him from trying to track down the gem sage he’d lost. But whoever he’d struck the deal with wouldn’t forget so easily.
I set my elbows on the table, turning my hand over. The bandage Isolde had tied around my palm was gone now, but there was something still lingering where she’d touched me. Like the heat of a candle’s flame held too close.
“He’s going to have quite a shock next time we’re in Dern and we set sail on theAster.”
I closed my hand into a fist, making the healing cut on my palm sting. “Yes, he is.”
Clove was all business now, focused. “The rye won’t keep us going forever. It’ll be steady, but not enough to build with. There’ll be other crofters who want to sign contracts. Potatoes, barley, cheese—anything that’ll stand the length of the route without spoiling. Emilia can help us with that.”
“And gems?” I asked, studying him. Our agreement with Henrik wouldn’t be easy to get out of.
“I think running gems is the easiest way to get a knife in our back, even if they’re legitimate stones.”
He was right. No matter how you looked at it, the coin of both the Unnamed Sea and the Narrows ran on gemstones. But there was no denying that it was much more profitable than crates of apples or cabbage.
“Crofters it is,” I said.
He looked relieved, and I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know why. Clove was the sensible one. The steady set of feet who could be patient and wait for his prize. I was the hungry one who was never satisfied, and that had gotten us into trouble. It had also cost us almost everything.
“Saint?” Clove interrupted my thoughts, making me look up from my plate.
His gaze was fixed across the room, eyebrows arched up and mouth still full. I turned in my chair, searching the tavern until I saw it. Between the men standing at the next booth, a flash of a dark red braid appeared and then disappeared, sneaking from beneath the hood of a jacket.
When she turned, her face came into view.
Isolde.
The sleeve of her jacket was streaked with mud and the way she stood there was with a weight. Not the tall, sure posture she usually had. She looked as if she were being pressed into the floor. She tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear as her eyes scanned the tavern. They were a duller blue, like the light had gone out of them a little. When they found us, I could see a moment of relief in them. Or something else.
“Well, look at that,” Clove murmured.
But when I looked at him, he wasn’t watching Isolde anymore. He was watching me.
She pushed through the crowd, making her way toward us, and I returned my eyes to my plate, breathing through the tight feeling that had returned to my chest. I’d been sure we’d never see her again. I’d also hoped with every breath that I was wrong.
“This day is just getting better and better.” Clove slid over in the booth, making room for her beside him.
She stopped at the corner of the table, one hand hooked into the dredging belt on her shoulder like she was waiting for permission. From me.
“Do what you need to do?” I asked, not looking up at her.
“Not really,” she said.
Clove lifted a hand in the air until he had Daya’s attention and then he pointed to his teacup. She gave him a nod before ducking into the kitchens.
“Well?” He gestured to the seat beside him, and I could feel her look to me again. When I didn’t protest, she took it.
“Filled that dredger position yet?” She said it with the slightest edge of humor, trying to make light of the tension that stretched across the table.
If she was looking for some kind of reassurance that she was wanted here, she wasn’t going to find it. I’d made her the offer and I wasn’t going to take it back. She’d shown up, so I finally had her answer.
