“It’ll be a swimming Grace,” she said idly to the boy behind them, “or some navigational ability. Am I right?”

“Her Grace is the reason we leave in the middle of the night,” the boy said. “She sees storms before they hit. We set out now to beat a blizzard coming up from the east.”

A weather seer. The prescient Graces were better than the mind-reading Graces, better by far, but still they gave Katsa a crawling feeling along her skin. Well, this captain’s profession was well suited to her Grace, anyway, and it wasn’t adverse to their purposes—might even be advantageous. Katsa would meet this Captain Faun and measure her, then decide how much to tell her.

The guards stared at them as they approached. One held the torch to their faces. Katsa ducked her chin into the neck of her coat and stared back at him with her single visible eye. “What’s this you’re bringing aboard, Jem?” the man asked.

“They go to the captain,” the boy said.

“Prisoners?”

“Prisoners or passengers. The captain will decide.”

The guard gestured to one of his companions. “Go with them, Bear,” he said, “and make sure no danger befalls our young Jem.”

“I can handle myself,” Jem said.

“Of course you can. But Bear can handle yourself, too, and himself, and your two prisoners, and carry a sword, and hold a light—all at the same time. And keep our captain safe.”

Jem might have been about to protest, but at the mention of the captain he nodded. He took the lead as Katsa and Bitterblue climbed up the gangplank. Bear fell in behind them, his sword swinging in one hand and a lantern raised in the other. He was one of the largest men Katsa had ever seen. As they stepped onto the deck of the ship, sailors moved aside, partly to stare at the two small and bedraggled strangers and partly to get out of Bear’s way. “What’s this, Jem?” voices asked. “We go to the captain,” Jem responded, over and over, and the men fell away and went back to their duties.

The deck was long, and it was crowded with jostling men and with unfamiliar shapes that loomed to all sides of them and cast strange shadows against the light of Bear’s lantern. A sail billowed down suddenly, released from its confinement in the riggings. It flapped over Katsa’s head, glowing a luminous gray, looking very much like an enormous bird trying to break its leash and take off into the sky; and then it rose again just as suddenly, folded and strapped back into place. Katsa had no idea what it all meant, all this activity, but felt a kind of excitement at the strangeness and the rush, the voices shouting commands she didn’t recognize, the gusting wind, the pitching floor.

It took her about two steps to adjust to the tilt and roll of the deck. Bitterblue was not so comfortable, and her balance wasn’t helped by her constant alarm at the happenings around her. Katsa finally took hold of the girl and held her close against her side. Bitterblue leaned into her, relieved, and relinquished to Katsa the job of keeping her upright.