“You are not a quiet, obedient girl.” He put a finger on her chin, startling her, and tipped her head up so she’d look him in the eyes. He gave her a sharp smile. “You are dangerous.”

Unbidden, her mind returned to the night of the storm, when he’d first told her she was dangerous and then kissed her, their faces flushed and wet with rain. It had been different from kissing Asa, in ways she’d never let herself examine.

She was certainly not going to examine those feelings now.

She turned away from him, toward the lazarette and the stash of goods they’d traded for. “Fine,” she said, with forced calm. “I’ll wear the dress.”

Nomi didn’t have a brush so she finger-combed her hair and braided it down her back. She had nothing to replace her boots, but the dress was long enough that they wouldn’t be obvious. Hopefully. Even though she had no idea how to use it, she was comforted by Serina’s knife hidden in the leather along her ankle.

Once she was clothed, Malachi left his post staring out over the stern and hoisted the sail.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, gesturing to his stomach. He’d hidden his pain well the past few days, but she’d seen the blood-flecked dressings and the occasional wince when he pulled a rope tight.

Malachi put a hand to the wound. “I’m fine.”

She raised a brow.

“I’m healing,” he amended. “I’ll survive.”

“Good,” Nomi replied. “I… I’m nervous,” she found herself admitting. “What if Dante doesn’t want to join you? What if he’s loyal to Asa?”

“He was my best friend from the time we were children,” he said. “He knows who Asa is.”

Nomi moved to the bow and watched the port approach, trying to focus her mind.

A long golden beach curled beneath houses with vermilion roofs that climbed into the hills. Beyond the city, a green, tree-covered hill shouldered up to the sky. To the north, a long pier extended into the sea, the squat concrete and steel of the port at its base a blemish in contrast to the rest of the city’s charm. Malachi navigated to this pier, where several dockworkers ran to help him tie up.

Nomi took a deep breath.

You can do this.

She cast her eyes downward and became a woman of Viridia again.

Malachi helped her off the sailboat with a hand under her elbow. For a few moments, her legs wobbled sickeningly, unused to the unmovable ground beneath her feet.

“How can I help you, sir?” A man walked out to meet them, sharp and weasel-faced in his navy brocade waistcoat and gold breeches.