Marjani set her mouth in this hard straight line. I was sure we were about to get kicked off the boat or killed or probably both.
"Why are you here?" she asked. She stuck her hand out at me. "Don't you answer. I want to see him say it."
Naji stared at her.
Don't screw this up, I thought.
"Revenge," he said. "As Ananna told you." His lips curled into this sort of twisted-up sneer. "Even the Jadorr'a fall in love sometimes."
A long pause while we all watched each other and the boat rocked against the sea. And then Marjani laughed.
"That's not what I heard," she said.
"Yes, I can imagine the sorts of things you heard, and I doubt very many of them have much bearing in reality."
Marjani laughed again, and shook her head. "Of all the things I thought I'd see. And no, I'm not going to tell the crew about you." She turned away from Naji, who immediately slumped back against the hammock, pressing his hand against his forehead. When she walked past me, she grabbed my arm and leaned into my ear.
"You should keep a close watch on him," she said in a lowered voice. "Once we get out to sea."
"I'm right here," Naji said. "I can hear everything you're saying."
"Good," Marjani told him. "You can get used to it. These sorts of whispers'll happen a lot more once we've been on the water a few weeks."
"Pirates gossip like old women," I said.
"When they get bored, they stir up trouble," Marjani said. "And you look like you'd be trouble if you got stirred up."
Naji didn't say nothing, but his face got real hard and stony.
"We'll be fine," I told her. "I'll keep 'em off him."
"I'm willing to help, but I can only do so much. I've got my business to attend to."
"You don't gotta do that." I paused. "But I'd – we'd both – appreciate it. Anything you can spare."
"I can take care of myself," Naji said.
"I'm sure you can." Marjani walked to the ladder and stopped there, turning to look at him. "But don't you dare cast blood magic on this ship. They may not recognize you, but they'll recognize that. Trust me. It'll get you and your friend killed. And probably me for bringing you on board."
Naji glared at her for a second or two, but then he nodded. "Thank you."
"Don't," Marjani said. "Just keep to yourself till we get to Port Idai. That's all the thanks I need."
She gave me a quick, businesslike nod and crawled up on deck.
• • • •
We set sail that evening, off into the sunset like a damned story. Naji came out on deck and leaned against the railing. I was up in the rigging, yanking at the rope to line up the sails properly when I spotted him down there, his black robes fluttering in the sea breeze. He didn't look happy.
We made it out to the open ocean not long after that, and the water was smooth and calm as glass, bright with the reflections of stars. The captain and the first mate brought out a few bottles of rum and everybody sat around drinking and telling stories and singing old songs. Some of 'em I knew, and some were Confederation standards that'd had the words changed, and some I'd never heard before. Like this story Marjani told, about an ancient tree spirit who fell in love with a princess. He turned her into a bird, so they could be together, but then the princess flew away, cause she didn't much love him back, and she flew all the way out across the sea, to an island where there wasn't nothing but birds, and she was happier there than she'd been as a princess. I liked it.
Then one of the crewmen started talking about the Isles of the Sky. He leaned in close to the fire so that his face didn't look human no more, and he told a story about an old captain of his who'd had a friend who got blown off course and winded up in the Isles. That friend had sailed between the different islands, his crew growing gaunter and gaunter until they were nothing but moonlight and old bones. The friend escaped cause he made a deal with the Isles themselves, but after he came back to Anjare all his thoughts were wrapped up in the Isles, cause the spirits were far trickier than he was.
Naji sat off in the sidelines all this time, shadows crowding dark around him. I got a couple of shots of rum in me after listening to that Isles story, to try and forget that was where we were headed to, and I slunk over to him and sat down. Everything was bright from the rum and the music, though Naji managed to swallow up some of the brightness just by sitting there. I thought of his pitch feather quill.
"You know any stories?" I asked him.
"No."
"Really? None at all?" I wanted to press up against him the way Leila did, but not even rum gave me that much courage. "Don't they tell stories back at the Order?"
Naji's hair blew across his forehead. "You aren't allowed to hear those stories." He pushed at his hair like it was some kind of spider crawling on him in his sleep.
"Why not?"
"Because they're sacred. Darkest night, do I really have to explain this to you?"
That stung me, and I slid away from him, and drew my knees up under my chin. Somebody brought out this old falling-apart violin and took to playing one of the old sea-dances, the one that asks for good fortune on a voyage.
We sat side by side for a few minutes while the crew spun out music and light in the center of the deck.
"Ananna," Naji said. "I have actually done this sort of thing before. With alarming regularity, in fact."
"I know." I said it real soft, and he leaned over to me like he cared what I was saying. "I just want to help you is all."
His eyes got soft and bright. I wanted him to smile.
"That's very kind," he said. "I don't have a lot of experience with kindness, but I… I do appreciate it."
I blushed. "And I wish you wouldn't be so sore with me all the time."
He blinked. The music vibrated around us, all shimmery and soft. Nobody was dancing.
"I'm not sore with you," he said.
I guess it shoulda made me feel better, but it didn't. The song ended and another started up. Another seadance, and still nobody was dancing. Maybe since they weren't part of the Confederation, they didn't know the steps. Or maybe they just didn't care. It took me a few seconds to recognize the melody without the dancing, and I realized it was the song asking for luck in love. On Papa's ship the crew had interpreted it as a prayer against brothel sickness.