Page 143 of Dark Water Daughter

“Whatever circumstances brought us together, we’re one now. Freedom is a relative thing,” Mary concluded, closing her fingers around the jade disc. I saw the regret in her eyes, but she kept it from her voice. “As to where we’llgo…Wecan’t go home. Even if Mother and I weren’t both known Stormsingers, I fled the gallows. Maybe I can prove I’m not Abetha Bonning, but I’m not willing to risk it.”

Fisher settled in at my side and laced her arms across her chest. “The new captain ofHartwill need a Stormsinger,” she whispered to me.

I looked at her sharply, reminded of what she had started to say outside.

“What are you saying?” I hissed back.

Fisher ignored me and looked at Demery. “Sir, you and I need to discuss the division of prizes.”

Demery gestured to the riches all around us. “Take your pick, Captain Fisher. What do you desire?”

Fisher smiled, sly and vulpine. “Well, I have my eye on a new ship.”

FORTY-EIGHT

The Woman with Two Souls

MARY

Shoulder to shoulder with my mother, I sang. The waterfall of cloud and snow that was the Stormwall parted before us, swirling and rushing over dark waves and drifting ice floes. Cold burned my cheeks and my eyes watered, but I sang with all the power in my bones.

Magic thrummed through me, Tane whispered in my blood, and high above usHarpy’s sails filled with ensorcelled wind.

Behind us cameHartandNameless, wrapped in the shelter of our power. The waves buffeted us and chunks of ice thudded against our ghisting-strengthened hulls, but our course was steady. Under the Fleetbreaker’s care we’d be across the Wall in a matter of hours, and to Hesten in a day.

Despite weeks of rest and contemplation, the thought of reaching Hesten brought a wash of uncertainty. I faced so many decisions, though they all hinged upon the greatest, and most daunting choice of them all.

My mother intended to go south with Demery. He needed a singer, after all, and the decades of weariness behind my mother’s smile told me she needed rest. Like the rest of Lirr’s former prisoners, she might be free of her chains, but they had left their mark. I wanted that rest for her, that security away from the eyes of the Navy.

Grant would go with them, so Demery could guide him through his transition intoghiseau. In the weeks since his betrayal and near death, our relationship had gone from strained to reconciled. I’d nearly told Demery that the highwayman was a traitor several times, but seeing Grant so broken, so pale and close to death had softened me. His guilt and suffering were recompense enough.

For his part, the hope behind Grant’s eyes when he looked at me was gone, replaced with the knowledge that, after what he had done, little more than friendship could survive between us.

So, I would go south withHarpytoo, wouldn’t I? I’d developed an affection for Demery and Athe and Old Crow. Grantwas—orcouldbe—afriend again, and I’d finally found my mother. Of course I would go with her. I would find a quiet life away from the constant threat and dangers of the Winter Sea, from people like Kaspin and Slader and Ellas, who would use my power for their own gain. Andthen…

What? I felt as though I’d only just left my village, just stepped foot into places like Tithe and Usti. Would I now close my eyes to the world and retire before my life had even begun?

My concentration wavered, and Tane’s voice brushed at the back of my mind.

We can make our own path, Mary.

A path to where?I asked. Our silent conversation came second nature now, flowing as easily as my own thoughts, one into the other.

Of their own accord, my eyes dragged back toHart. I couldn’t see him from here, but I knew that the vessel’s newly christened Captain Rosser stood on his quarterdeck, just as Captain Fisher would pace the deck of her newly claimedNameless.

Wherever we choose, Tane replied.

FORTY-NINE

The Queen’s Favor

SAMUEL

Bells rang out over Hesten as I made my way down the dock towardsHarpy. Unlike our last visit to the port, this time we were housed in the royal docks, and dragonfly lanterns glowed against a deep winter night.

I brushed my fingers across the Mereish coin in my pocket and grasped the folded paper next to it. My heart started to hammer at the feel of the parchment, at the potential ofit—bothfor gladness anddevastation—butI suppressed it all and waved to Widderow, who smoked a pipe at the top ofHarpy’s gangplank.

“Boy.” The pipe remained pinched between her teeth as she asked, “What do you want?”

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