Page 90

Soraya was not worried, however. She assured Amrita that Fortune did this from time to time. She would go off on her own for weeks sometimes, always returning with news or a gift. Soraya was hopeful that she would bring them word of her daughter.

They both were surprised when, at the end of the week, Fortune appeared in her nest, high up in the rigging. She seemed tired, as if she’d traveled a great distance. She rested there for a few hours. Finally, as night was falling, she swooped down and flew through the door, into Soraya’s cabin. She landed on the side table and dropped something shiny onto the bed.

“Ah, my friend, I see you have not abandoned me,” Soraya crooned to the bird. Fortune bobbed her head and spread out her wings as if to embrace Soraya. “I am so relieved you have returned to my side, and with a gift, no less!”

The item was made of brass and glass. It was completely wrong for the era and entirely too familiar.

Amrita leaned forward, and her breath caught in her throat. “May I see that?” she asked.

Fortune dove for the object, snatching it up before Soraya could hand it over. She dropped it in Amrita’s lap.

“Oh,” Soraya said, a small wrinkle appearing on her forehead. “I think she actually meant the gift is for you, Amrita. Good girl, Fortune, you know that our friend Amrita saved me.”

Amrita could tell that Soraya was disappointed that Fortune had returned without news or a letter from her daughter. But she did not seem peeved about the gift.

Amrita stared at the binoculars. These were Buffalo’s binoculars. The small BJW monogram engraved on the side confirmed it. As if there could ever have been any doubt. But how had they found their way here?

“Fortune, where did you find these?” Amrita asked, even though it was futile. “Who did you take them from?”

The owl remained silent, staring at her with big, sad eyes.

“Perhaps she took them from the ship that was following us,” Soraya said. She held out a hand to see the binoculars.

Amrita hesitated, then handed them over.

“What are they?” Soraya asked. “Some type of instrument? You seem to know.”

“They are called binoculars,” Amrita explained. She frowned. “And yes, I do know. They belong to a friend of mine. I cannot imagine how Fortune got them, though. They really shouldn’t be here.” She watched as Soraya turned the binoculars over. “They are used to see things that are far away.”

Soraya stepped out to the balcony and held them up to her eyes. “Cyclops’ eye! I think perhaps I can see all the way into the future with these.” She handed them to Asha. “I’m afraid they are a bit too much for me. They hurt my head. Take a look, Asha. Do the scholars from the library still pursue us? Perhaps you can use these to see.”

“I doubt she needs them,” Amrita noted. “First because she has no eyes. And second because of what she is.” This was the first time she had spoken so plainly to Soraya about the Fates, and she felt it was past due. There was no more room for secrets on The Tufan.

“You are correct.” Soraya smiled and sighed. She waved a hand at Asha, which Asha understood was a request to hand the binoculars back to Amrita. Amrita pocketed them.

“How long have you known what they are?” Soraya asked.

“I had my suspicions from the start,” Amrita admitted. “How is it that the Fates have come to serve you, Soraya?”

“I cannot tell you because I’m not entirely sure myself.” Soraya shrugged. “All I know is that wherever the atlas goes, the Fates are never far behind. They don’t serve me so much as keep an eye on the book. I am so grateful for their company, though. And for Fortune too. She is a good luck charm, my light in the darkness.”

Soraya stroked the owl who was now perched on her shoulder.

She paused as she scrutinized Amrita. “And now that we are truth-telling,” she tilted her head, questioningly, “perhaps you want to tell me where it is you are from. Or rather… when?”

Or perhaps not.

Before Amrita could speak, Zara put a finger over her lips. Nell placed her hands over Soraya’s ears. Asha approached, shaking her head.

Amrita’s wards might not be working perfectly on The Tufan, but the Fates were watching. And they would not allow her to say another word about her life in the future.

They did not, however, prevent them from talking about the present, and the fact that sailing in circles was becoming untenable for Soraya. She could not continue like this indefinitely.

Amrita’s two weeks were also up, and she thought she might have a plan. She proposed it to Soraya three days later, over their evening meal.

“I think there is a way for you to escape living in the eye of this ceaseless storm and join your daughter in Etruria. But it would mean sinking The Tufan.” Amrita paused. “And it would mean the end of Raya.”

Soraya was quiet for a moment. “Raya has served his purpose,” she said. “I won’t mourn him.”