I watched him slather a thick layer of butter onto the crust. “My help?”

He nodded. “That’s right. Then you can go back to that pathetic crew or whatever hole in Ceros you were planning to make a home of.”

What was so unsettling was that it sounded as if he meant it. There wasn’t even a shadow of deceit in the way he met my eyes.

My gaze went back to the window’s closed shutters, where slices of blue sea glowed through the slats. There was a deal to be made here. He needed me. “What do you want me to do?”

“It’s nothing you can’t handle.” He peeled back the petal of an artichoke slowly before scraping the flesh between his teeth. “You’re not going to eat?”

I leveled my eyes at him. I’d have to have my toes at the edge of death to accept a meal or anything else from anyone on this ship. “Do you always feed your prisoners from your own table?”

“You’re not a prisoner, Fable. I told you. I simply need your help.”

“You just kidnapped me and tied me to the mast of your ship.”

“I thought it best to let your fire die out a little before we talked.” The smile returned to his lips and he shook his head. “Like I said, just like her.” He gave another raspy laugh before he drained his glass of rye and slammed it down. “Calla!”

Footsteps sounded outside the door before it swung back open. She stood in the passageway, waiting.

“Calla will show you to your hammock in the crew’s cabin. If you need anything, you’ll ask her.”

“A hammock?” I looked between them, confused.

“You’ll be given your duties tomorrow and you’ll be expected to meet them without question. Those who don’t work on this ship don’t eat. They don’t usually make it back to shore, either,” Zola added, a frown breaking his lips.

I couldn’t tell if that look was madness or mirth. Maybe it was both. “I want my knife back.”

“You won’t need it,” he said, his mouth full. “The crew’s been instructed to leave you alone. As long as you’re on the Luna, you’re safe.”

“I want it back,” I repeated. “And the ring you took.”