Page 50 of Wicked Tides
“I’d still like to know where they’re from.”
“Could look at the maps from the Cornwallis,” Gus suggested.
I cocked my head at him. “We don’t have those maps.”
He huffed a laugh. “Mullins swiped a few. You know he’s teaching himself to navigate. He’s got a whole stack stuffed in his personal chest.”
I knew Mullins collected any parchment with words and charts on them. To hear that he’d swiped some from the Cornwallis was a relief because I did not want to circle back to that ghost ship.
“Get him for me,” I said.
Gus walked to the door, cracked it open, and called for Mullins. He must have been on deck because he was in my cabin in a blink, eager to help.
“Whatever you took from the Cornwallis,” I said. “Bring it here.”
He nodded and left to retrieve what I wanted. He was back shortly after with an armful of rolled maps and leather-bound papers. He dumped them onto the table and all three of us started to sift through it all, looking for something useful when the girl stepped forward from the corner. I had almost forgotten she was still there. I watched her eyes zero in on a drawing that had fallen out of one of the leather folders. Then she pointed at it, saying words I didn’t understand.
On the parchment was a sketch of a mountain with an odd flat top and a large cave opening in the front that looked like a massive beast with a crooked yawn. I picked up the paper to read the sloppy writing on the bottom.
“God’s Throat,” I read.
The girl kept talking and nodding like I was on to something, but I couldn’t understand a damn thing she said.
“Says she’s seen that before,” Gus said, rubbing his brow. “At least that’s what I think she said.”
I took one of the maps from the Cornwallis and unrolled it over the one I already had out, searching for that landmark. Or the name. Or even an “X” of some kind that would mark where we needed to go. The girl was the first to pinpoint a place to look. In the upper corner of the map was a scribble of words and symbols that didn’t fit the rest of the continents and islands. Among the hand-drawn map additions was a shape vaguely resembling the sketch on the paper.
“Think that’s where they’re from?” Mullins asked.
“Toluuk,” the girl said, pointing excitedly.
“Toluuk?” I asked.
She spewed more words and then nodded, victorious.
“That’s about as far north as you can get before the water is just pure ice,” Gus pointed out. “I’ve heard of tribes living up there, butthat place don’t treat ships too nice. In the warm months, they come south to trade. At least, that’s what Yutu told me.”
“Yutu? That strange kid you knew as a boy?”
“That’s the one. Taught me his language, he did. His dad and mine used to fish together. Maybe that’s how the Cornwallis got to them. Maybe they were at one of the ports.”
I sighed loudly, staring at the maps again. “The Rose can sail that,” I said, hanging my thumbs on my belt.
“Think it’s worth the trouble? Getting these girls home, I mean. Could just bring ‘em inland, make sure they find work. See to it they don’t end up on the streets or in a whore house. We’d be doing them a favor.”
I shook my head, reflecting on what a shithole the coastal towns were becoming.
“With the supplies we took off the Cornwallis, we can make that trip if we make a good trade. Port Devlin, perhaps.”
“What if their home is gone?” Mullins brought up. “What if they raided it and killed everyone?”
I glanced at the girl, watching her lean over the map with renewed excitement.
“That’s not the face of a girl who saw her home burn. And I wouldn’t bet on the Cornwallis doing anything so risky. That ship was manned by cunts and beggars.”
“Don’t matter how they got them. Is there a reason you want to risk taking them that far north?”
“The reason is that we’re out here looking for sirens to sell. I’m not showing up inourtown with a ship full of young girls instead. No one’s getting their oily hands on them.”
