Page 19 of Vengeance of the Pirate Queen

I untie the scroll from the yano bird’s leg. It sits patiently, not even fidgeting at the attention. I unroll the parchment and read:

Sorinda,

We’re a sailor short at the keep. Wallov’s frantic. We think Roslyn might have stowed away on your ship. WouldyousearchVengeanceandsendwordasquickly as possible?

—Alosa

I hand the parchment to Dimella so she can read it, too.

“I don’t think there’s anyone aboard who isn’t supposed to be,” she says after glancing it over. “I took roll and acquainted myself with each person on the ship.”

“She won’t be among the crew. She’ll be hiding, likely in the hold.”

“Impossible. I oversaw the storage.”

“Don’t take it personally, Dimella. Roslyn may be seven, but she’s craftier than a snake. She’s on here somewhere, and we need to find her.”

“Shall I task the crew with it?”

“Don’t bother. I’ll find her. Please carry on as normal.”

I feel Kearan’s eyes on me as I make for the hatch belowdecks, but I don’t spare the helmsman a look. Sailors rise from their bunks and stand to attention when I walk through the sleeping quarters, murmuring greetings ofCaptain.

“Carry on,” I say, supremely uncomfortable with all the attention as I pass dozens of hammocks and eventually end up in the galley.

A few girls are scrubbing at the dishes from breakfast, but one a bit older than the rest steps forward. She’s olive-skinned with shimmery straight brown hair. A sheen of sweat is gathered at her forehead, and she has a broom in hand.

“Captain,” she says. “I’m Jadine, head cook. Was there something the matter with your breakfast?”

“Not at all. I enjoyed it very much. I’m here because I’ve just received word we might have a stowaway on the ship. Have you noticed any food missing?”

“Aye. I gave my cleaning crew a stern talking-to this morning for it. I thought they might have helped themselves.”

“It wasn’t them.”

I pass through a second hatch to reach the cargo hold and brig. The ship isn’t quite big enough to have a standard-sized third level. I have to crouch while walking and light a lantern to see by because there aren’t any portholes this low on the ship.

Since we aren’t housing any prisoners in the brig, there’s no one stationed down here, which would make it very easy for someone to come and go without being seen.

I stand before the crates, barrels, and other tied-down compartments with my arms crossed. “Come out, Roslyn,” I say.

I’m met with silence.

“Alosa sent word that you’ve gone missing. Your father is beside himself. Let’s not make them worry any longer.”

Still nothing.

“You can come out on your own and sleep in a bunk. If you make me search through this hold for you, I will put you in the brig.”

“You wouldn’t!” comes a tiny voice.

“You know me well enough to know I don’t make idle threats.”

“Hmph.”

By the scanty light, I watch the top of one of the barrels pop off. Since the barrel is stored on its side, it’s easy for her to wiggle out and return the lid. I also note she’s whittled breathing holes into the barrel.

“Sorinda, I—” she starts as soon as she’s righted herself.

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