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Safira smiled. “Don’t thank me yet.”
As she left, the daemonic scent was gone, but the unease lingered. Kerem waited with a smug grin.
Back in her cabin, shadows curled around her. Lance watched her from the cot. Idonea suspected he disliked uncertainty almost as much as she did.
“I know,” she said, voice soft.
The scent was gone. That frightened her more. Daemons rarely stopped hunting voluntarily.
Chapter 5
By morning, the storm had passed, leaving a thin sheen of silver over the deck rails. The Current buzzed faintly in Idonea’s blood, a side effect of her earlier manipulation. But she'd no time to rest.
Safira insisted she required a change of clothes, primarily to hide the scarring upon Idonea’s flesh. The captain’s voice carried from behind a silk screen.
“If you’re to walk the Republic streets, you’ll do it as someone the Republic adores.”
Idonea stood in the centre of the captain’s quarters, swaddled in lace and discomfort. A high-collared white blouse hugged her throat; a yellow brocade vest cinched her waist too tightly. The matching skirt, with its layers of fabric, whispered against her legs.
Safira emerged, fastening the last button on her sleeve. She tilted her head, narrowed eyes raking over Idonea. “Well?”
Idonea smoothed the front of the skirt, biting back a grimace. “I thought I was to be an engineer?”
Safira gave her a deliberate smile. “You are. An engineer who has arrived on a pirate ship.”
She circled once, fingertips gracing the air near Idonea’s shoulder, close enough to make her skin prickle.
“Almost perfect. You’ll need proper boots and a mask before we dock, though. Those?” She pointed at Idonea’s old boots. “They scream, 'Witch in exile'.”
Idonea didn't dignify that with a response.
Safira vanished into her private quarters. She returned with a pair of black leather boots. Mid-calf height, copper-plated heels that caught the lantern light, and more buckles than were strictly necessary. Idonea sat, tugged them on, and adjusted the copper fixtures with reluctant appreciation. They were well made, practical even. She moved the bone shard to the new boots.
Safira’s gaze softened. “There. You look like one of mine.”
They exited the captain’s quarters, Safira leading the way with a confident swagger. The crew straightened instinctively as she passed. Kerem, halfway through a conversation, stopped and stared. He blinked twice.
“Find her a mask,” Safira said without slowing.
Kerem nodded, still staring as Safira’s grin flickered.
Idonea smiled with deliberate calm. “Do you often gawk at your captain’s guests, or only the dangerous ones?”
The colour drained from his face, just as she’d hoped.
Safira’s chuckle floated between them. “She learns quickly.”
As they ascended the metal stairs to the main deck, wind slapped at Idonea’s cheeks and tangled her curls. It was wild, cold and sharp, and she welcomed it. The weight lifted; wind and sky, the scent of salt, a hint of smoke.
When she opened her eyes, Safira stood near the railing, her coat flaring behind her like wings. Idonea joined her but didn’t step too close to the edge. The drop unnerved her more than she cared to admit.
Crewmen crawled across the rigging with the ease of people too accustomed to falling, adjusting sails and oiling the gearwork. A boy no older than fifteen polished brass fittings until they gleamed, while an older woman barked at him to keep pace. The smell of pitch, metal, and salted pork drifted from somewhere aft. The balloon above strained at its ropes.
“Lesson two,” Safira said, her gaze still fixed on the horizon. “Always act like the sky belongs to you. Because if you look like prey, you’ll become prey.”
Idonea tightened her grip on the railing. She thought of the Current, of the daemon’s scent that haunted her the night before, clinging to the shadows of her cabin. Even now, with the wind fresh, she swore she caught a trace of it; pungent, like something rotting out of sight.
Her chest tightened, forcing her gaze towards the endless stretch of clouds as the pale sun broke through. She let herself believe she could be free here, but the unease lingered, curling inside her like smoke.
