Page 107 of Foul Days

She reached the stern and turned, her back pressed against the metal railing. Her eyes darted around in panic.

Blackbeard moved towards her, deliberately slowly. He didn’t need to hurry. She was trapped.

“What do you want?” Kosara shouted over the crashing of the waves. She was simply trying to win time. She knew very well what he wanted.

“You know very well what I want.” There, he agreed.

“We had a deal. I’ll give it back once you take us to the Zmey’s palace.”

“No. You’ll give it back now, and I might not throw you in the sea.”

Kosara’s gaze slid past Blackbeard to the dark waters behind, where several pale bodies drifted. The compass pressed hard against her chest. She wasn’t sure why she’d thought to hide it in her bra. Some kind of sixth sense.

Similarly, she wasn’t sure how she knew that even if Blackbeard got his compass back, he’d still throw her in the sea. Sixth sense, again.

Kosara had said too much when they’d played dice, she realised. That glint in his eyes when he’d asked about the witches’ shadows: it wasn’t the polite interest of a lonely old man; it was the excitement of a retired rogue who smelled easy money.

“You intend to go to the Zmey’s palace alone, don’t you?” Kosara asked, pushing her wet hair off her face with her palm.

Blackbeard stopped a few steps away from her and watched her without replying.

“You think you can steal the witches’ shadows,” she continued. “But that can’t happen.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t know where the Zmey’s hidden them.”

“Where?”

“Well…” Suddenly, she remembered an old fairy tale her mum used to read to her. “He’s hidden them in his triple-locked iron chest.”

“What?”

Come on, Asen. He couldn’t have slept through the commotion—he was too restless a sleeper. And no matter how much she’d hurt him, he wouldn’t simply leave her in Blackbeard’s hands. He couldn’t.

“Oh, yes,” Kosara said, “the Zmey’s legendary iron chest.”

“What chest?”

“Hidden inside a needle, which is in an egg, which is in a duck, which is in a hare…”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

Asen, come on!

“Which is in an iron chest, which is buried under a green oak tree, which is on the island of Buyan in the ocean.”

Blackbeard’s hand was so fast, it was almost invisible. He caught Kosara by the collar and pushed her backwards. The small of her back hit the railing, sending a wave of pain up her spine.

“Mad hag.” Flecks of Blackbeard’s warm spit landed on her face.

Kosara tried kicking him, but he’d learned his lesson. He evaded her and kept pushing. The upper half of her body hung over the water.

Her hands scratched at his face, leaving red marks on his grimy skin, until she couldn’t feel them anymore. Her shadow sickness tickled her fingertips.

“Wait!” she shouted, but Blackbeard didn’t let go. His eyes glinted beneath his hat’s brim. His fingers dug into the soft underside of her arms. Kosara’s ears hummed as more and more blood rushed to her head. “Oh my God, wait!”

She couldn’t push him away. Her hands were completely swallowed by her shadow sickness. She couldn’t make him let her go, either—he was too strong. Unless …

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