Chapters (51)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Also by Adrienne Young
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
When she looked over her shoulder, disappearing into the shop, I could have sworn I saw her smile.
FORTY-ONE
Sagsay Holm disappeared like the fog-cloaked memory of a dream.
I stood at the top of the foremast, tying off the lines as the wind filled the sails. They stretched against the blue sky in round arcs, the sound of the salty breeze on the canvas making me close my eyes. I pulled the air into my lungs and leaned into the mast, thinking I never wanted to leave this ship for as long as I lived.
When I looked down, West was standing on the deck, watching me. He was swallowed in gold, squinting against the light, and the wind tugged the shirt around his form in a way that made me want to disappear into his candlelit cabin with him.
I climbed down, landing on the hot deck with bare feet.
“You want to check them?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves.
“Yeah.”
He caught my hand when I stepped around him, drawing me back. As soon as I turned, he kissed me. One of his arms wrapped around my waist, and I leaned into him until he let me go. His fingers slipped from mine as I headed to the breezeway and I ducked into his cabin, where Hamish was sitting at West’s desk, two ledgers open before him.
He looked up at me over the top of his spectacles. “Got you set up over here.”
He nodded to the gem lamp on the table. Beside it, a small chest of gems was waiting.
With the fallout of Holland’s supposed treachery, every merchant from the Narrows to the Unnamed Sea would tighten their operations, double- and triple-checking the stones they sold to keep their necks from the blade of the Trade Council.
I sat down onto the stool, striking a match and lighting the candle beneath the lens. When it was aglow, I took the first gem between my fingers, an aquamarine. I held it up so the light showed through, checking the color the way my mother taught me. Then I set it onto the gem lamp’s glass and peered through the lens, noting the structure of the gem. When I was finished, I set it aside and picked up another.
Everything has a language. A message.
It was the first thing my mother taught me when I became her apprentice. But the first time I’d understood what she meant was when I realized that even she had song. It was the feeling I had anytime she was near.
It was there in the dark as she leaned over me in the hammock to press her lips to my forehead. I could feel her, even when I could only make out the flicker of lantern light on her necklace as it dangled over me.
It was something I knew in my bones.
Isolde.