And she didn’t care.
Her left hand shot toward Amjad’s throat ... and didn’t connect as Leesil jerked on her belt.
Amjad came off the barrel in a spin. When he came around to face her, there was a small knife in his right hand as both of his guards pulled their curved blades. But when he looked her in the eyes, his own widened a fraction and then narrowed.
Leesil kept a tight grip on Magiere’s belt and held out his other hand. “No trouble.”
Magiere stiffened, stopping herself from striking back to break Leesil’s hold. She felt tears running down her cheeks from sunlight burning her widened irises, and she fought to pull herself under control.
Most people cringed in fear at first seeing her like this. Amjad did not, though the two men behind him stalled, perhaps waiting on their captain.
“No docks, no ports for many days to come,” Amjad said, still gripping his knife. “If you wish, you can swim for shore and walk the rest of the way. Maybe you will survive long enough to see il’Dha’ab Najuum from somewhere in the distance before you perish.”
Magiere wanted to take his knife and ram it down his throat. He hadn’t even mentioned before leaving Soráno that they should bring their own food. He’d only warned them not to complain about the food, and she’d had no idea what that had really meant. She slid one foot back, easing the tension of Leesil’s grip, before she turned her head just a little toward him.
Leesil looked calm on the outside, but his amber eyes were hard. And when facing a threat, he was at his most dangerous when he was silent, still, and apparently at ease. Magiere clung to that, and it helped her regain more control.
“Thank you for time—we make do,” Leesil said quietly, turning away and pulling Magiere along.
Once they reached their cabin, and the sunlight no longer burned her eyes, Magiere became herself again. When she entered the cabin behind Leesil, both of them ducking to get through the door, they found Wayfarer on the bunk with Chap. Brot’an wasn’t there, and the girl looked pale and tired, even though she’d been sleeping a good deal.
“Did you speak with the captain?” Wayfarer asked.
Obviously Chap had somehow told the girl, and Magiere’s anger was smothered under desperation. “It didn’t do any good.”
Wayfarer dropped her eyes and swallowed with effort.
“Chap,” Leesil said, soft but sharp, “take Wayfarer up on deck for some air.”
As the dog lifted his head and stared, so did the girl, and old fears rose on her face.
“Must I?” Wayfarer asked.
“Yes,” he answered flatly. “You need the air. Chap will watch over you.”
Chap studied Leesil for a long moment and then hopped off the bunk.
Magiere wasn’t certain why Leesil was sending them both away, though likely it had something to do with her near loss of control with the captain.
Wayfarer struggled up and followed Chap, and Leesil closed the door behind them. When he turned around, he didn’t mention the scene with Amjad and only tilted his head toward the nearest bunk.
Magiere settled there, watching as he came to join her and pull off his old head scarf to let his white-blond hair hang loose. She could feel the warmth of his thigh against hers.
“Some of this is our fault,” he said. “I had a bad feeling about this ship the moment we stepped on board.”
Perhaps he just wanted to talk, and part of her was relieved. She couldn’t stand for him to express any “concerns” about her nearly grabbing the captain by the throat.
“So did I,” she agreed. “When he said not to complain about the food, I thought it meant meals would be simple.”
Meals on the Cloud Queen hadn’t been fancy, but the cook often served freshly boiled oats in the morning, and fish stews—with vegetables—late in the day. They had traveled on many ships over the past two years. Adequate though simple meals had always been part of passage.
“We’re trapped ... and Wayfarer is growing weaker each day,” Leesil said, grabbing her hand without looking at her. “For the rest of the voyage, you’ll have to trust me.”
Magiere tensed at this, for she didn’t know what he really meant. Then he turned on her almost too quickly, released her hand, and took her face with both of his hands.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered.
She trusted him in all things except for his seeing to his own safety.
“Leesil—” she began, and he stopped her with the press of his mouth on hers.
She knew what he was doing—trying to distract her. At first she almost pushed him off for such a weak ploy ... until his mouth slowly moved against hers.
He pulled away slightly, brushing his lips along her cheek.
“That’s a cheap trick,” she growled at him.
“Is it working?”
With a rumble in her throat, Magiere grabbed Leesil by the shirt and pinned him on the bunk.
Wayfarer did not remain on deck for long. She felt dizzy and weak all of the time now and did not think Chap would force her to stay out longer than she wished. Neither she nor Chap was a fool, and Léshil obviously wished to speak alone with Magiere.
The fresh air did feel good, but this vessel’s crew was more frightening than any she had encountered. By the way Chap watched every movement, he did not care for most of them, either.
“Can we go below?” she asked. “To my cabin ... if you can tolerate Brot’ân’duivé.”
—Better than being up here—
With relief she followed him to the aftcastle and down the steep steps, but when she reached the lower narrow passage ...
“Wayfarer.”
Turning in alarm, she looked up to find Saeed leaning through the short doorway above, and he quickly climbed down. Of all sailors on this ship, he was different.
There had been a time when being trapped in a narrow space with any human male would have frightened her speechless. But Saeed was always polite and well mannered and had been the one to inadvertently warn her in Soráno that the team of anmaglâhk had arrived, though he had not known who and what they were. Chap was familiar enough with him not to snarl or snap in warning.
As Saeed stepped down into the passage, he reached into his loose shirt. “I snuck these down for you.”
Wayfarer’s breath caught. In his hands were two large red apples, and the thought of fresh fruit made her want to snatch one and bite it. She looked up at him. From what she had seen on this ship, he had probably not eaten any better than she had. The captain fulfilled all of the lesser evils she had been taught about humans.
“It is all right,” he said, holding them out as if he guessed her thoughts. “Sailors who make this run with Captain Amjad learn the hard way to buy—and hide—food before leaving a port.”
“Hide it?” she questioned.
“Or it will be stolen halfway through the journey. Some making their first voyage on this ship are unprepared. Fights—and even some deaths—have occurred.”
She cringed at the last of that, but he only shrugged.
“Most do not make more than one voyage on the Djinn. The captain hires new sailors often when in Suman ports. No one is paid until he returns to il’Dha’ab Najuum, so most have no coin for food along the way. You must be careful.”
Wayfarer glanced once at Chap, who appeared to listen closely, but Saeed’s words confused her. He seemed so much better than the other men here.
“Why have you stayed?” she asked.
For an instant any kindness in his face faded.
“It is a good place to hide.” And he held out the apples again. “Take them. Eat one today and hide the other. I do not have much to share, but I am homebound. You need these more than even your companions.”