“Now,” she whispered, patting the yard before drawing her knife, “this is only temporary, my lovely. I’ll take good care of you when you’re mine.”

The whisper of steel sawing against rope made her grimace—it felt loud to her straining ears, but it wouldn’t be heard from deck.

Currently, the sail was folded and stowed on top of the yard. If she cut all the robands as well as the lashing at the corners, when the Venatrix’s crew went to set sail, it would just flap from the bottom edge, held up by only a handful of lines. Completely useless.

Now—she looked up another twenty feet to the fore topsail on the next yard and the topgallant above that—if that were to somehow happen to every sail on the ship, he’d be stuck.

Grinning at the thought, she went back to work.

* * *

Hanging just below the rail, Vice leant back to look up at her handiwork. Although you couldn’t tell from here, all sails on the fore and main masts were now detached from the yards, save from the lines holding them stowed. A typical hand going about their duties, untying those lines to unfurl the sails wouldn’t ever think to look in the exact spots where she’d left the cut ends tucked away.

She could leave the spanker—he wouldn’t get far with that alone. That left just the mizzen top to sabotage. Her gaze drifted down the mizzenmast to the raised quarterdeck, housing the captain’s quarters.

If Blackwood did have a clue to Drake’s treasure, that’s where he’d be keeping it.

And she was here now. It would be rude not to at least have a look.

With those lamps and the watch on deck, it would be easiest to sneak into the captain’s quarters through the stern windows. She could just climb around, slip through a window—it was warm enough that he’d leave one open for ventilation.

It took no time to scurry up the mizzenmast shrouds and sabotage the mizzen top, but on the way down she had to pause above one guard’s eye level as he made a circuit of the deck. When he passed without raising the alarm, she exhaled and continued below the rail.

At last, her feet landed on the narrow ledge that the shrouds fastened into. Hands tight on the final stretch of line, she took the opportunity to pause and catch her breath. Her arms were warm now and—

Footsteps.

One of the watch on another circuit, no doubt.

Ears straining, she shuffled aft on the ledge. She made no noise—he wouldn’t hear. She nodded to herself and took a long breath.