“What you say against what I say,” the cook declared.

Djola scrambled up. “Who paid you?”

“Halt.” The cook held up the pots. “Or you’ll burn with your savage books.”

“I don’t fear your scullery fire,” Djola shouted, but Orca held him back.

Vandana crept toward the cook. “What if you die and can’t say anything?”

Eyeing Vandana’s blades, the cook edged toward the ladder to the deck. She missed Orca throwing a bola. The iron balls tangled her legs in tough leather strands and smashed a knee. She stumbled and fell back against the ladder.

Djola snatched the fire pots and smothered the coals with mesh-covered hands. The cook bashed her head against several rungs as she slid to the floor. Her breath rattled to a halt. Orca looked horrified as he untangled his bolo from her legs. He was inured to death, not killing.

“I’ve saved that bowman’s life twice. The cook too.” Djola set the hot pots in his sandbox. “How much money did Council pay them?”

Orca pulled purses from their bodies. “Gold, more than a triple share.”

“The Master of Money is generous,” Djola said. “Keep it. Buy your freedom.”

Orca covered his face in kisses.

“Three dead.” Vandana’s swords had disappeared into her bag.

Djola shrugged. “The old healer was Pezarrat’s spy.”

“Still a waste of spirit.” She raced up the ladder and retched over the railing.

“Ripping throats out doesn’t agree with her,” Orca said without irony.

“I think she’d rather use a blade than her teeth,” Djola replied. “Who knows? She’s from beyond the maps.” He and Orca hauled the bodies to the upper deck and heaved them overboard. Pirates up early to clean and sharpen blades stopped work to stare. One clutched his neck and swallowed a curse.

“Assassins,” Vandana explained and vomited again. Orca stroked her back. She sloshed wine in her mouth and spat. “Who but tigers likes the taste of dead men?”

Two behemoths burst into the air, barnacled mouths agape. They sprayed Djola with foul-smelling water. They plunged under the ship’s belly and lifted it on their backs. Pirates tumbled to the deck and screeched—farm boys and blacksmiths, new to the sea.

The behemoths cheered Orca up. Even Vandana managed a sigh. The behemoths carried the ship several minutes, spiraling and zigzagging, making a crossroads Vévé in the waves. Djola was full of wonder. Weeds and Wild Things were sealed in his heart with Orca, Vandana, and his family. Djola sang to the behemoths. They set the ship back in the water, sang a long high note, and swam away.

“Friends of yours?” An ashen pirate gaped at Djola. He and the others backed away.