Behind me, the water stretched out in a bottomless blue, all the way back to Dern. I knew how to survive on Jeval. If I got off the Luna, if I found a way to … my thoughts flicked from one to the other. If the Marigold was looking for me, they’d most likely be following Zola’s route back to Sowan. Eventually, they could end up in Jeval.

But there was still a part of me that wondered if the Marigold would cut their losses. They had the haul from the Lark. They could buy out from Saint and start their own trade. An even softer whisper sounded in the back of my mind.

Maybe they wouldn’t come looking at all.

I gritted my teeth, staring at the toes of my boots. I’d sworn that I’d never come back to Jeval, but maybe now it was the only chance I had at staying in the Narrows. My hands tightened on the railing and I peered over it to the water below. If I jumped, I could make it around the barrier islands faster than anyone on this ship. I could hide in the kelp forest at the cove. Eventually, they’d give up looking for me.

When the feeling of eyes on me crept over my skin, I looked over my shoulder. Clove stood on the other side of the helm, watching me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. It was the first time his eyes had met mine and they didn’t waver. His stormy gaze was like the pull of the deep water beneath us.

My fingers slipped from the rail and I leaned into it, staring back. He was older. There were silver strands streaking his blond beard and his skin had lost some of its warm gold color beneath the tattoos covering his arms. But this was still Clove. Still the man that had sung me the old tavern songs as I fell asleep on the Lark. The one who’d taught me to pickpocket when we made port and bought me blood oranges on the docks in Dern.

Again, he seemed to read my thoughts, and his jaw ticked.

I was glad. In that moment, I had never hated anyone as much as I hated Clove. I’d never wanted so badly to see anyone dead. The muscles in his shoulders tensed as the words flit across my mind and I imagined him in that crate that West dropped into the black sea. I imagined his deep-throated scream. And the tug at the corner of my mouth filled my eyes with tears, my busted lip stinging.

The dead look in his eyes met mine for only another moment before he went back to work, disappearing beneath the archway that led to the helmsman’s quarters.