Page 22 of The Sea Witch
She tipped her head toward a chart that showed the whole of the known Caribbean. “The Weeping Princess.”
He widened his eyes before checking his response and putting an impassive mask in place. Hardly anyone knew about the Weeping Princess. It was seldom spoken of anymore. Alys Tanner had been in the Caribbean for only a year, and if she spoke the name of it now, she’d learned of it, somehow.
Whatever she wanted, he wouldn’t give her.
“A fanciful name,” he said. “Whatever could it mean?”
She grabbed the front of his neckcloth firmly. Her face was tight with anger. “None of your hedging, Sailing Master, or I won’t waste time with the brig. My cutlass can carve a neat path that’ll spill your innards all over the deck.”
“Messy.”
“Call my bluff, handsome.”
He blinked. “You think me handsome?”
Her lips curled into a smirk. “That’s male perspective for you.” Still staring at him, she said over her shoulder to the Greek corsair, “I’m threatening him with ripping out his guts, yet his attention snags on whether or not I’ve taken a liking to his face.”
“Be done with it and split him open,” the other woman growled. The magpie on her shoulder made a noise that sounded suspiciously like agreement.
“In time, Stasia.” Softly, Alys Tanner asked him, “Will you tell me more about the Weeping Princess, or shall I satisfy my quartermaster’s desire to see your intestines?”
“I couldn’t answer that question,” he replied. “Not without more information.”
Her brow furrowed and she appeared torn. Then, after a moment, she released her grip on him.
He reached up and did his best to straighten the folds of his neckcloth. Without the free use of his hands, though, or benefit of a looking glass, it was a futile attempt to repair his appearance. At the least, his markings on his skin had disappeared.
“All you need to know is that I’m in search of it.”
He studied her. “This has something to do with whatever was written on that glass in the tavern window. A riddle of some kind.”
Her expression went opaque.
“So, I’ve the right of it,” he surmised. “You saw something on the window, and then destroyed it to leave no trace behind for anyone else to follow. Something that has to do with that fail-safe George Partridge created, the one that severs the tie with the leviathan. The Weeping Princess might be the location of that fail-safe.”
“I don’t know that,” she answered at once.
“But you suspect it.”
When she said nothing, he knew he had his answer.
He raised his brows. “Surely your magic can tell you what you want to know.”
Captain Tanner took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. Which had the unfortunate result in drawing his attention to her breasts, the upper curves just visible above the low neckline of her shirt.
His last actual shore leave had been some time ago, along with the feminine company that could be found there. Clearly, it had been a long while, if he was contemplating the physical charms of someone he wanted to see clapped in irons.
She cleared her throat, and he dragged his gaze back to hers. Fortunately, the sun had deeply bronzed his face, or else he was certain she’d see his cheeks redden.
“I want the information fromyou,” she said levelly.
“It appears there are limits to the scope of your magical power.”
Her brow lowered. So, he was right. She didpossess supernatural ability, but it wasn’t as developed as he’d initially believed, if she couldn’t suss out the whereabouts of the Weeping Princess with it.
“If the Weeping Princess is a location,” she pressed, “you’ll tell our sailing master where to find it.”
“And have my throat cut for my service, while leading you exactly to the place where you could eliminate the Royal Navy’s advantage over you.” He would say nothing about Warne’s intimations that more sea creatures might soon be added to the navy’s arsenal. Giving her any information would only fuel her desire to find the fail-safe, and she could easily spread the knowledge amongst the Brethren of the Coast, undercutting the Royal Navy’s advantage. “There’s no upshot to this scenario.”
