“Why are you offering it to me?” His tone turned bitter, and I realized he’d figured me out. I had to handle him carefully if I was going to keep him on the line.

“You’re the best dredger I’ve ever seen. Besides myself,” I amended. “This is a job that’s next to impossible, and I need you.”

He turned toward the window, staring out at the street. Beside him, West was looking at me. He didn’t like this. The last time West had seen Koy, he’d been chasing me down the docks in Jeval, ready to kill me.

When Koy finally spoke, he set both hands onto the table, leaning over me. “Fine. I’ll do it. I want the coin now and I need a new belt of tools. Those bastards took them when they pieced the Luna.”

“Done.” I grinned.

“One more thing.” He leaned closer, and West got to his feet, taking a step toward us.

“What is it?” I met Koy’s eyes.

“We’re not trading favors, Fable. Understand?” His voice deepened. “I told you. I didn’t cut the rope. So, if this has anything to do with what happened on that dive, I’m out.”

And that was the thing about Koy. His pride was more stubborn than his hunger for copper. If I so much as breathed a hint that I owed him, he’d walk away from the coin.

“Fine. You didn’t cut the rope.” I reached out a hand between us. “We leave at sundown. I’ll have your tools and your coin on the ship.”

Koy took my hand, shaking it. He looked at me another moment before he turned on his heel, headed for the door.

Willa stared at me incredulously. I handed her the maps and she shook her head once before she got to her feet.

West watched her go. “What favor is Koy talking about?” he asked.

“That bastard saved my life when Zola’s dredger tried to kill me.”

“That’s what this is about? A debt?”

“No,” I said, standing. “I meant what I said. He’s a skilled dredger. We need him.”

I could see in West’s eyes that he wanted the whole story. It was one I’d eventually have to tell him, but not today.

Clove leaned back, looking at me.

“What?”

He shrugged, a wry smile playing at his lips. “Just thinkin’.”

I cocked my head to the side, glaring. “Thinking what?”

“That you’re just like him,” he said, taking another sip of tea.

I didn’t have to ask who he meant. He was talking about Saint.

TWENTY-THREE

“What else needs doing before we leave?” Clove asked, setting down his cup.

“You’re not coming,” I said.

His bushy eyebrows pulled together. “What do you mean I’m not coming?”