Daughter of the Pirate King (Daughter of the Pirate King, #1)(8)

alone.
But my father is counting on me not to fail. Perhaps his desire to find the map
is so great that he’s ordered Theris to keep an eye on me. On the one hand, I can understand why he wouldn’t want to take any chances, but on the other, I’m deeply insulted. I can handle this mission on my own, and I won’t be calling on
Theris for help.
* * *
I have to wait until nightfall before I can start. I can tell when the sun sets because most of the pirates retire below. I can’t see them from the brig, but I can smell them. They can’t be far. I can imagine them sleeping in hammocks or on a
straw-strewn floor. Whatever it may be, it’s bound to be better than the brown-
caked floor I’ll be sleeping on. I cringe at the thought.
I start humming again as I shrug on my coat, which is fashioned similarly to
the justaucorps men wear, but mine was made for a woman’s figure. Mandsy made it for me. She can wield a needle just as well as she can wield a sword, which is only one of the many reasons why I made her part of my crew.
Though the coat will help me look like any other sailor if I’m seen from a distance, I hope I won’t have much need to blend in once I’m above deck. I’m
counting on the cover of darkness to mask me.
Once I’ve got my cell unlocked, I silence my humming. I drift around the lower areas of the ship, getting a feel for the shape of it. A storage room for food and supplies, a treasury for the pirates’ plunder, a modest kitchen, and the main crew’s sleeping quarters make up the space belowdecks. Easy enough to
remember.
Now I need to make it into the captain’s quarters without being seen. I don’t
have Draxen figured out yet, but if I were trying to hide something important, like a map, I’d keep it close.
There is a possibility, however, that Draxen doesn’t even know the map is on
board. It belonged to his father, who is a descendant from one of the three ancient pirate lord lines. (I am, of course, descended from one of the others.) Lord Jeskor may not have even told his sons about the map. No matter. The map
has to be on board. Jeskor would have had it here when he died, and Draxen’s
quarters used to be his own. They’re most definitely the first place I should look.
I peek up over the last step of the stairs, observing the deck. It’s hard to see, as the moon is almost new. Naught but a sliver of light shines down upon the
dark deck of the Night Farer. The ship was once a standard caravel ship, a type of vessel used for maritime exploration. Most pirates steal them from the land king’s own armada. Then we make adjustments to fashion the ship to our own liking. I can see that Jeskor has had the rigging redone. He’s exchanged the traditional lateen sail on the mainmast with a square-rigged sail. Smart, as it’ll give him more speed. I also noted, while I was back on my father’s ship and watching the Night Farer approach, that Jeskor’s added a figurehead below the bowsprit. I doubt the land king has ever had large carvings of women fashioned
to the fronts of his ships. He’s much too practical for that.
There are only a few men above deck. Someone’s at the helm, a man sits in
the crow’s nest, and a couple of others roam the deck to ensure all is well. I can tell exactly where they are, because they hold lanterns out in front of them.
Draxen and Riden will already be in their quarters. Assuredly sleeping. They
just made an impressive capture—they will have celebrated. Now they’re likely
sleeping off their drink. I anticipate tonight’s venture going over smoothly.
There are two separate levels above deck at the stern of the ship. The lower
level likely holds Riden’s quarters. The captain’s will be off the aftercastle.
All I need to do is get past the man at the helm. Luckily for me, the man seems drowsy. He lazily leans against the railing while holding the helm with one hand.
Draxen’s doors are likely unlocked. He wouldn’t need them locked while he’s
in there. Unless he’s paranoid or mistrusting of his crew. He didn’t seem to be
either sort to me, so I should be able to get right in.
I crouch on the deck beside the stairs that lead up to the second level. I wait
for the man’s head to loll to the side. Standing on my toes, I carefully creep up the companionway. All is well until I get to the last step, which creaks out a sound so loud in the silence, it feels as though I could have heard it from belowdecks. I feel my body go rigid at my mistake.
The sailor at the helm jerks awake fiercely, turning his head toward the sound. Toward me. “Blast it all, you gave me a start! Please tell me you’re here
to relieve me, Brennol.”
He’s too tired, and the sky is too dark for him to tell who I really am.
Quickly, I play along, lowering my voice as much as I can. “Aye.” I keep my response short. I’ve no idea what Brennol sounds like, and I can’t risk my voice
being off.
“Thank the stars. I’ll be off, then.”
He heads belowdecks while I stand there. I need to hurry before the real Brennol shows up for his shift. Without another thought, I slip inside Draxen’s
quarters.
I spot him instantly, lying on the bed. His face is turned away from me, but I
can see the steady rise and fall of his chest. He’s out. A candle burns softly near the bed, offering the room a little light and warmth. The place isn’t filthy, but neither is it exactly tidy. This is a small blessing, at least. It’s much harder to mask thieving when tossing a clean room. It’s easier for the owner to tell if something’s been touched.