The word “no” leaves both our mouths simultaneously—mine whispered, hers groaned. For a second, our eyes meet. We glare. I can’t be stuck with this girl. Give me any other person on this ship, give me Santa Elena for god’s sake. Anyone but her.

Santa Elena grins wider. “I don’t want you to misunderstand this, Swift. This is a big opportunity. You could really impress me here. But I don’t want to be unfair to the rest of you, so naturally there’s a bit of risk involved.”

Swift blinks.

“If Cassandra here fails me, you’ll be punished equally. Make sure she succeeds.”

And for the first time since they dragged me onboard this boat, I smile. Swift can’t do shit to me with Santa Elena watching, with her fate entwined with mine. It’s like the captain’s just given me my own personal guard dog.

But before I can let the feeling get to my head, I spot the looks curdling across the other four protégées’ faces. The resentment. The ambition. Whatever this opportunity means for Swift, it’s setting them back in some way.

And suddenly I feel as if I’m in the crosshairs of all four of them. From the looks of it, Swift can fend for herself. But I need a monster to stand between me and these people, and all I’ve got right now is a half-baked pup and a pirate girl who’s looking at me like I’m a cloud of Reckoner shit.

There’s far too much at stake for me to let that shake me. So I’ll weather it.

I straighten my spine and meet the captain’s gaze as she stalks back to her throne. Santa Elena flops into her seat, kicking her heels off and picking at something stuck between her teeth. “That’ll be all,” she says with a dismissive wave. “Swift, make sure your new pet gets fed.”

The pirates filter out of the room in groups, some chatting, others slapping each other on the back. The lackeys all move in a knot, save for Swift, who ducks to the captain’s side and mutters something quick in her ear. Santa Elena shoots back, her voice low. I wait until the other four lackeys make their exits and then approach the throne, my arms folded over my chest.

Swift steps down and grabs me by my elbow before I can get a word out. She tugs me out through the wooden doors and I feel like I should be looking for steam rising from her half-shaved head.

“I’m supposed to give you a tour of the ship,” she says. “Captain says to treat you like new blood.”

“I—”

“Captain’s wrong,” she hisses, her eyes flicking down the corridor to make sure no one heard her. “You don’t belong here.”