Moray cast a languid glance at him. “Is that so? Perhaps you should ask your captain then. Ask him how many innocent Breccans he’s killed over the years.”

Jack’s blood turned cold. His hands felt like ice when he recalled his first night on Cadence. Sitting in a sea cave with Torin.

You meet every stray who crosses the clan line with instant death?

“Then I will come to you first,” Adaira said, seeking to smooth out the tension that was gathering between them. “I’ll write when the time is acceptable for the visit. But in the meantime, I do have one more request of you, Moray.”

“Speak it, heiress.”

She held up the vial with the Orenna blossom. “I’ve been seeking this flower in the east, and I wonder if you recognize it. Perhaps it flourishes in the west? If so, this flower is something that I would like to trade with you for.”

Moray squinted as he studied it. “It’s hard to see clearly from here”—Jack almost rolled his eyes—“but I don’t recognize it. Despite that, I’ll ask others in the clan, to see if they know of it. What’s the flower called, by chance?”

“Orenna,” Adaira said. “It has four petals and is crimson in color, veined with gold. An enchanted flower, as it continues to live long after it has been cut. I appreciate any advice or knowledge you could give about it.”

“I’ll do what I can, heiress,” Moray said. “Now, I should depart, but I’ll await word from you?”

Adaira nodded.

The trade had finally ended. They had survived it unscathed, and Jack took a stiff step away. It felt wrong to turn his back on Moray, but Adaira did, gathering the blanket and the bottle of strange western alcohol.

Jack held out the crate, and she placed the items within. Moray was still in the cave fiddling with his boat when they departed out the eastern side. They walked away, past their footsteps still pressed in the sand, although the tide was threatening to wash them away.

The wind had died, and the air was strangely calm.

“Do you think he was lying, Jack?” she asked in a low voice. “About the flower?”

Jack shifted the crate to his other hip. “I’m not sure. He wasn’t what I expected.”

“Yes. I’m not sure what I think about him yet,” Adaira agreed. “But if we’ve proven anything today . . . it is possible to move products over the clan line without alerting Torin. It feels fanciful to even think this, but one of our own might be secretly obtaining the flower from the west, delivering them in the tides. Just as we did today.”

The thought was disturbing.