“I need him in the north of Aurdwynn,” Baru countered, though it felt like sticking her fingers into the wound of their last fight. “I need him to open trade relations between Aurdwynn and the Stakhieczi. It’s the best way to avoid war.”

“Never mind that.” Apparitor clearly wanted to get off the topic of the Stakhieczi as quickly as possible. “We’re going to die before we make it to Kyprananoke.”

That got Baru’s attention back. Apparitor rubbed his face: springy red stubble had grown out far enough to curl. “I’ve talked to Captain Branne. We didn’t finish our work at the Elided Keep, and our hull’s still badly fouled. It’s slowing us.”

“How long,” Baru rasped.

“Sulane will catch us within two days.”

“And how long to Kyprananoke?”

“Two weeks. With good weather. Which we can hope for, but never count on.”

Silence. Down from above came the low cries of the sailing-master conducting her sorcery. On Taranoke they’d had a saying, You can’t sail faster than the wind, which meant, You can only do as much as you can do. How could anyone sail faster than the wind? Surely, if your ship was traveling at wind speed, then the wind could no longer exert force on the sail: it was an elementary lesson for Taranoki children, Toro Haba’s Law of Force.

But the Falcresti could break that law. Arranged at the right angle, Helbride’s sails acted like a wing—they could get force from the air by some mathematical trickery. Helbride could run downwind faster than the air.

And so could Sulane. And she was winning the race.

“We can’t possibly fight Sulane.” Apparitor drummed his fists on the wall. “We can’t even trust the other ships we meet. We’re still in Ormsment’s waters. She has the power to commandeer trade ships and leave agents aboard. Anyone could be compromised.”

“No,” Baru said, looking up at Iraji, remembering his idea. “Not anyone. There’s one place we can go that Ormsment can’t touch.”

*   *   *

“LOOK at you.” Shao Lune sneered. “Have you lost two fingers? I’ve been shackled in the bilge, beaten, interrogated, and left to rot. And somehow I’ve still come out ahead of you.”

Baru came down the stairs to find the treacherous staff captain better appointed than last time they’d sparred. She’d gained a lantern on a hook, a bucket for her toilet (clean, thankfully; it stank only of bleach), a few planks to keep her above the bilgewater, a supply of various linens and pads, and some slack on her chains.

“Looks like you’ve been cooperating.” Baru tested the boards underfoot. Shao Lune had done her carpentry well. “Left anything to sell to me? Or did you give it all to Yawa?”

“Left you anything? I’m in a better position than you, I think.”