“Teren may be expanding his operations into Kenettra’s other cities,” Violetta says, casting me a sideways look. Are you all right? her expression says.
I tighten my lips and push down the whispers. “Do you think they’re going to board us?” I ask Magiano.
Magiano points to how the small ship is now positioning itself behind us. “It’s a small team, but they’re going to steer us into the port,” he replies. “And then they’re going to inspect every nook and cranny of this ship.” His expression darkens as he turns to me. “If I’d known you were going to cause this much trouble in the first three days since our little agreement, I would’ve left you to the Night King without a second glance.”
“Good,” I shoot back. “I’ll remember that the next time I see you in danger.”
My answer makes Magiano let out a surprised laugh. “You’re charming.” He grabs my wrist before I can stop him, then nods at Violetta to follow him. “It looks like we’re stuck together now, aren’t we?” he says. “I recommend we hide.”
We hurry back belowdecks, where a nervous and sweaty crewmember hisses at Magiano to take us down to the ship’s belly. Our footsteps echo hollowly across the narrow wood floors.
We make our way down three ladders before finally reaching a closet where crates are stacked haphazardly from floor to ceiling. Here, he ushers us into its dark recesses. The space is nearly pitch-black, except for a dense iron grating high overhead that lets in slivers of dim light.
Magiano gives me a pointed look. “Stay quiet,” he whispers. He glances at Violetta. “Keep a lid on your sister’s power. It’d be in all of our best interests for it not to careen out of control like it did in Merroutas.”
“She’s going to be fine,” Violetta answers, a note of irritation in her voice. “She knows how to control herself.”
He looks unconvinced, but still gives her a nod. Then he’s gone, closing the door behind him and leaving us in darkness.
I can feel Violetta’s faint trembling. She doesn’t do as Magiano suggested—take away my power—but she doesn’t seem entirely comfortable with me, either. “You’re feeling okay, right?” she whispers to me.
“Yes,” I reply.
We wait without saying another word. For a while, the only thing we can hear is the familiar sound of waves outside the ship. Then, we hear new voices. Footsteps.
“Don’t lose control again,” Violetta whispers. After such a long silence, her words sound deafening. She doesn’t even look at me. Instead, her eyes stay fixed on the grating above us.
I turn up to stare at it too. I keep waiting for that strange, hazy pressure to hit me again, like it did in Merroutas—but this time, my strength holds steady, and I keep a firm grip on my powers. “I won’t,” I whisper back.
The voices are very faint. Through two layers of wooden floors, all I can make out are muffled human sounds and the subtle vibrations of boots on the deck. I sense a general unease in the energy of the ship’s crew. Violetta’s head turns as the voices travel from one end of the deck to the other.
“They’re going to come belowdecks,” she whispers after a while. And sure enough, no sooner have the words left her mouth than we hear the stomp of boots on the ladder leading downward. The voices abruptly become louder.
Now I can hear the soldiers speaking to one another. My fear rises as they draw steadily closer overhead.
In the mix, Magiano’s animated voice suddenly appears. “And, why, the last time I was in Campagnia, I fell in love with your wines. Do you know I’ve never been drunker? I—”
An Inquisitor cuts him off with an exasperated sigh. “When did you leave Merroutas?”
“A week ago.”
“A lie, boy. No ship takes a week to reach our shores from Merroutas.”
Sergio’s more reasonable voice now sounds out. “We docked in Dumor first, to drop off some cargo,” he says.
“I see no Dumorian stamps on your ship. You left Merroutas recently, I wager. Well, some new laws have come into effect here in Campagnia. The Inquisition deems all arriving ships subject to search. Malfettos from other countries are no longer allowed in this city, you see.” He pauses for a moment, as if to peer closer at Magiano. His eyes must not be slitted, because the soldier steps back again. “So if anyone in your crew is a malfetto, I recommend you tell us now.”
“We have none that I can think of, sir.”
“And you wouldn’t happen to have any stowaways?”
“You’re welcome to search,” Magiano pipes up. “Malfettos—a pile of trouble, aren’t they? I still count us lucky that we’d already left Merroutas by the time the incidents down at their pier happened. You heard about that by now, haven’t you?”
I glance at Violetta in the darkness. She stares back. Her mouth puckers into a word. Ready?
Slowly, I weave a web of invisibility across us, changing us into the slants of light on an empty closet floor, the dark grooves of an empty closet’s walls. The voices and footsteps draw steadily closer, until they sound like they’re right on top of us. I peer at the grating through the darkness.
The bottom of a boot suddenly appears over it, then another. They’re directly overhead now. I hold my breath.
“Anyone else on board this ship?” the Inquisitor asks. He’s turned toward who I assume must be Sergio. “Is the entire crew here?”
“All accounted for, sir,” Sergio replies. “Supplies are on the lowest deck.”