Page 77 of Saint
“The merchant.” Nash’s voice broke the silence again, followed by his footsteps on the stairs.
“What merchant?” Saint looked up at him.
“The one who was going to buy you from Zola. What was his name?”
The man’s face from the portrait resurfaced in my mind. “Oliver,” I answered. “Oliver Durant.”
Nash leaned into the wall, crossing one foot over the other. “Then youdohave something.”
“I don’t have the courier agreement. It’s still on theLuna.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
Saint’s attention drifted back to me, his mind turning with the thought. It wasn’t enough. The Trade Council would require evidence.
“Even if we had it, it’s not proof. The order was for Nimsmire silks,” I said.
Nash shrugged. “Anyone who digs into the ship’s inventory will find out that bastard wasn’t carrying silks. And Simon’s name is known in the Narrows for his gem sage business.”
A piece of information that would have been helpful before I went to him for help,I thought.
“Might be enough to at least get someone curious. Youdon’t have to report him and risk her being found out. It’s enough for him to know youcouldif you wanted to.”
“Smashing heads with rye bottles. Scheming against the Trade Council.” Clove surveyed Nash with a look that bordered on impressed. “Not so useless after all, are you?”
“Just trying to earn my keep,” Nash quipped, giving him a wink.
He was right about the merchant. Having that information was valuable, whether Saint used it now or saved it for a rainy day.
“It still won’t change the fact that I’m going back to theLuna,” I said, making sure it hadn’t given Saint any ideas.
“I know,” he said.
Clove looked between us. “Guess it’s about time I make a trip to the harbor master, then. The summons should already be waiting.”
Saint nodded.
There was no point in delaying the inevitable. The longer the Council was looking for Saint, the more suspicious they would be. Especially when his ship was still anchored in Ceros.
“Come on.” Clove got to his feet with a groan, jerking his chin toward Nash.
“Me?”
“This city is crawling with Zola’s crew. Someone’s gotta cover my back.”
Nash sighed, snatching his jacket from the hook.
They disappeared out the door a moment later, leavingSaint and me standing in the empty flat alone. His fingers tapped his elbow, his eyes on the cold hearth across the room.
“You don’t like being on land, do you?” I asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
He considered his answer, taking his time. “The sea’s a lot more honest than people are.”
I couldn’t argue with that. But I couldn’t say the same was true about Saint. He wasn’t like other people. The weight of his presence was like a leak on a ship, slowly filling its hollow spaces.
