Page 193 of The Space Between Stars

NIKLAUS

Chill spray off the Casowhatan was a welcome change from the desert, though the glare off the ocean wasn’t so different from the glare off the Jiradeshi sands. Niklaus shaded his eyes with a hand, staring over bottle-green waters toward the cliffs of the shrinking coastline. The skiff had begun to drift.

Mefeeb sat at the bow, toes dangling over the edge. “Nudge the tiller to port,” she called over the buffeting wind, a stray curl from beneath her turban pulled into a line.

Niklaus prodded the tiller toward the mid-low sun.

Mefeeb flashed him a crooked smile. “You’ll be a sailor soon enough!”

That he had ended up under the charge of this young girl still baffled him. He’d wanted to be a teacher for twenty years without ever having a pupil. Since leaving Seraphinden, he’d had two young companions, and both had only schooled him. The girl was smart, with a mind as fast-moving as her tongue. She would have made a marvelous politician.

“When did you learn to sail?” he called back.

Mefeeb hopped down and sidled over to him to sit where she didn’t need to yell. “I left Shrokan three years ago. I was indentured with the Thaligan dock. Until I could afford my own skiff.”

“By your parents?”

She shrugged. “Never had any. Mitek rescued me and set me up with them.”

That sounded like a con if ever he’d heard one. “Rescued you from what?”

The girl’s mouth pressed into a line. “From doing what most girls end up doing in Shrokan to stay alive?”

Niklaus was an idiot.

He cleared his throat. “You mean, of course, breathing, sleeping, and sourcing acceptable sustenance.”

Her nose scrunched. “Yeah, that.”

Niklaus tried to change the conversation. “This is your skiff, then?”

Her chest puffed with pride. “Yep.”

“Are you getting paid to ferry me?”

“No.”

“Then why do it?”

“Because it’s dangerous. The brave ones get a better shot.”

“At what?”

The girl’s mouth closed tighter than a cork.

“I’ve been thinking…” He didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep. Especially not with a future so uncertain. “When my campaign ends, I’ll return home. There are many rooms in my house. And I have resources that could use a little bit of spreading. If you’re agreeable, I’ll send someone to bring you north, to Seraphinden. You can stay as long as you like. Leave whenever you like. Eat as much food as you like. You won’t have to work.”

“You mean Seraphinden proper?”

“Yes.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Sounds like a trap. But even if I trusted you, I won’t place my bets where there ain’t a race.”

“What do you mean?”

“You probably ent going to make it back to Seraphinden. Mitek has a good feel for these things. He had ‘dead’ written all over his face looking at you.”

Niklaus replayed his conversation with the raider in his mind, trying to understand what that might mean. Each possibility seemed worse than the one before. “Why would he have you ferry me to Steila if he assumed I would be killed?”