Daughter of the Pirate King (Daughter of the Pirate King, #1)(9)

Now I get to work, starting at the desk, where he has various papers and maps
strewn about.
The map I seek will be different from the others. For one, it’s older. It’ll be
fragile and darkened with age. Also, the map will not bear the language of the common tongue. Its language, too, is more ancient. There are few who know it.
Lastly, the map is not complete. It is one of three pieces, separated long ago and dispersed to the three pirate lords of the time. With the three pieces united, the bearer will be able to find the legendary Isla de Canta, an island heaped with untold treasure and protected by its magical occupants, the sirens.
It’s not anywhere on the desk or near it. I checked each drawer for false bottoms and hidden compartments. I move on to the cupboards where he keeps
his clothes, rifling through every pocket in each garment. I feel a desperate need to wash my hands afterward, but I squelch the urge.
Instead I continue to scour the place. I pick at each wooden panel in the floor
to see if anything is hidden underneath. I lightly tap the walls, listening for
irregularities that hint at secret openings. I strike the last wall a bit too harshly, and Draxen rolls over in his sleep. Thank the stars, he does not wake.
Deep sleeper, that one.
Lastly I check under the bed. He’s got a few things here. Thick woolen stockings, a broken sextant, a telescope.
When I want to sigh in exasperation, I swallow instead.
It’s not here. It’s not anywhere in this room or the adjoining washroom and sitting room. And that means it’s somewhere else on the ship. But the ship is enormous. There are countless hiding places. And I will have to check them all until I find the map.
I’m going to have a miserable time of it.
Opening the captain’s door quietly, I peek my head out. I’ve spent over half
the night. No point in doing any more searching now. Might as well return to my
cell for some sleep.
Brennol seems to have made his appearance, and he looks wide-awake. He has both hands placed firmly at the helm. How to get past him? If I simply walk
out, he’ll notice I’m not the captain. I’m too short.
If I could just make it down the companionway, he probably wouldn’t take notice of me. But it’s a good ten feet away. I tiptoe back into Draxen’s quarters and search for something to use.
Eventually I find a copper coin. Perfect. Back at the door, I place the coin over the top of my thumb and flick it toward the port side of the stern. Brennol
turns his head in that direction, leaning forward and squinting. Quickly, yet silently, I make for the stairs on the right and descend them, remembering to skip the step at the top.
When I hit the deck, I slam my back into the wall behind the companionway,
ducking out of sight. I think I took the final step too loudly. And Brennol is bound to be even more alert now. I should wait a couple of beats before heading
belowdecks.
A door to my left opens.
The door to Riden’s quarters.
He looks first to his left, then to his right. “I thought I heard something. ’Fraid I’m a light sleeper. Didn’t expect you, though.”
I have only a moment to register the fact that all he has on are a pair of breeches before he reaches for me.
I have nowhere to go. Between the walls and the stairs, the only way out is through him. And I suppose it makes sense to simply let him catch me, even though my instincts scream at me not to.
I want to be here. I have a job to do. It’s okay to let him catch me.
“How did you get out of your cell?” he asks. Not an ounce of sleep traces his
words, though he had to have just woken. He grabs me by my upper arms, holding me in place.
I say, “I stopped the first pirate I saw and asked really nicely.”
His face is cloaked in shadows, but I swear I can hear his smile. “I’m the only
one who has a key.”
“Perhaps you dropped it, then. That was careless of you.”
He touches his side as if to grab a pocket, then remembers he’s not wearing a
shirt. A fact I haven’t been able to forget.
It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t smell so good. Pirates are supposed to stink.
Why does he have to smell like salt and soap?
He yanks me forward, and I realize I should probably be putting forth at least
a little resistance. So I place my hands on his chest and shove. The night air is brisk, but Riden is still warm from being wrapped in bed. Warm and solid and
good smelling.
With iron-gripped fists. If he bruises my other arm, I will have to retaliate.
He hoists me to the door he came out of. It’s as dark as the end of a cave in
here, but Riden seems to find whatever he’s looking for just fine. He pulls me back outside with him and holds something up in the air for me to see.
“This would be the key I so carelessly dropped,” he says.
“Strange, that.”
He sighs. “Alosa, what are you even doing out here?”
“You’ve kidnapped me. What do you think I’m doing out here?”
“The rowboats are over there.” He points to the opposite side of the ship. “So
why would you be lollygagging around my door?”
“I wanted to kill my captors before I left.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
“Still working on it.”
“I bet.”
Down the stairs we go, past the sleeping crew, and into the brig. Riden shoves
me back into my cell. Then he tries the key.
Obviously, it doesn’t fit.
Riden observes it more closely. Surprise takes over his face. “You switched them.”
“Hmm?” I ask innocently.