Page 18 of The Sea Witch
“Little George’s fail-safe is our sole hope of eluding certain death,” Alys concluded. “Priestley may yet change his mind, and if it means outwitting the navy, I’d be a fool to snuff out our most promising lead of reaching that fail-safe.”
“But whatisit, this fail-safe?”
Alys could only shrug. “Little George said nothing on that front. It could be anything.”
“The sailing master brings more peril than promise of finding it.”
“He might be just what we need.” When Stasia opened her mouth to speak, Alys held up a hand. “You think I’m unaware of the threat he presents? Forty-five women have now elected me their captain. They follow me on raids and into battle. Theirlives aremyresponsibility. And to protect them, I’ve got to find that fail-safe. If that means keeping the sailing master alive for a little longer, then...” She inhaled raggedly. “I accept that risk.”
Stasia gazed at her, and then gave a quick nod.
Alys poured herself another drink. She had met Stasia Angelidis shortly after theSea Witchhad first docked in Tortuga, a year ago. Stasia had been a corsair in the Mediterranean, but no pirate companies in the Caribbean were willing to take on a female crew member, and certainly not one who was a witch.
When Alys had first encountered Stasia, the Greek woman had pinned a buccaneer to the wall of a tavern, magical vines keeping the pirate restrained as Stasia calmly finished a mug of ale. To ensure that the buccaneer didn’t move, Stasia had enchanted a knife to rest against his throat. It turned out that the pirate had tried to intimidate Stasia with the threat that all men deploy against women. Stasia’s crime: daring to seek a place aboard a ship as a crew member.
That pirate’s poor judgment had been to Alys’s benefit. She’d gained not only a quartermaster, but a stalwart friend and counselor.
They’d spent many nights together, studying pilfered tomes about magic. Those books had been remarkably short on details about how, exactly, one wielded supernatural power, hoarding that knowledge for the magic academies that only admitted male students. The volumes that Alys and Stasia did find were quick to condemn women who claimed magic for themselves.
Many of those late nights with Stasia had been occupied with testing their magic, experimenting with what they could and could not do, and writing down everything they learned so that future generations of witches wouldn’t be raised in ignorance, as both Alys and her quartermaster had. Barred entrance to education, witches had to rely on rumor and word of mouth to gain any knowledge about how to use their powers.
When there were lulls in the ship’s duties, Alys and Stasia would gather the ship’s witches to pass along everything they’d learned from the books. Their knowledge would be a flame, lighting one candle, and then another, and another, until someday, the whole world would be brightened by witches’ magic.
It was Stasia that Alys spoke with first thing each morning, and Stasia who Alys said good-night to at the conclusion of every day.
A plate of stewed chicken now waited for Alys, and her stomach rumbled with interest. She hadn’t eaten since noon.
“You aren’t joining me?” Alys asked.
“I dined while you were attending the festivities ashore.”
Sitting down to eat, Alys said, “Make sure some food is brought to our guest in the brig.”
“His comfort should not be at the uppermost of our minds.”
Alys shook her head. “Mentreat their prisoners poorly.”
Stasia pushed up from the window seat and opened the door of the cabin. To an unseen member of the crew, she issued commands, and then went to stand at the window.
“We would not serve the king so kindly,” the quartermaster grumbled.
“The king happily makes war to line his coffers. He’s an eager enslaver, too.” Alys prodded her stew with the tip of her knife. “This sailing master is, right now, merely a mechanism I intend to use. A mechanism you say is handsome.” She exhaled. “Having men on our ship makes my skin crawl. They’re so... messy. Yet I’ll learn what Priestley knows. He pled ignorance about his captain’s involvement with Little George. Might be a ruse, might not.”
“He hates pirates. You can see it in every part of his body. He is a warrant officer in the navy. It makes sense he holds no love for buccaneers. He seems uncomfortable in the presence ofmagic, so a ship of witches is not a place he cares for. Butchering him would be wisest.”
“Killing in the heat of battle has a different flavor than murder committed in cold blood. A flavor I can’t swallow.”
Stasia clapped her hand across her forehead. “The twists and turns of your heart have always been baffling.”
“I’m equally baffled by myself.” Alys took a bite of chicken. “But sending him to hell sits poorly with me. TheSea Witchand its company sail differently from other ships.”
“Thereareexceptions,” Stasia noted.
“And I make them, without question.”
No one who commanded or crewed on a ship transporting kidnapped Africans was ever spared. Once the people trapped in abominable conditions in the hold were freed and brought onto theSea Witchfor medicine, fresh food, and proper clothing, Alys and her company locked the captain and crew in the cramped space where they’d held their captives. She always ignored the sailors’ pleas for mercy when the enslaver ships were set ablaze.
“I’ll kill himifI deem it necessary,” Alys said.
