“She’s quite smitten with you, you know.”
“What?” The word emerged louder than Talia had intended. “Snow never-”
“Not Snow. I felt it the moment she stepped on board. Almost magical, her hunger for you.”
Gerta. Talia shook her head. “That’s impossible. She’s not-” She caught herself. They hadn’t told Hephyra the full details about Gerta’s origins. “She doesn’t even know me.”
“Sometimes that’s a good thing. Adds mystery.”
Talia said nothing.
“Ah, Talia. Men have killed for the chance to share my bed, but you turn me down. Young Gerta pines for you, and you hardly give her a second glance.” Hephyra sighed. “You’re like a beggar who shows up at a banquet hoping for jellied swan. You ignore the feast laid out around you, starving to death while you wait for that swan to arrive.”
“I’m not starving,” Talia said, too sharply.
“Of course not. You spent a month dining on your friend Faziya, didn’t you?”
Talia’s face grew hot, and Hephyra laughed.
“I know everything that happens on my ship, remember? Including how you and your friend spent your time on the voyage back from Arathea.”
“Faziya stayed for six weeks, not a month,” Talia said softly. They had both known it wouldn’t last. Faziya’s home was in Arathea, the one place Talia couldn’t go.
“And you took advantage of the time you had.” Hephyra clapped her shoulder. “Nothing shameful there. You were happy. You both were. Why not allow yourself to be happy again?”
“It’s not that simple.” Gerta wasn’t even human… not that she expected such minor details to bother Hephyra. “Gerta… she’s younger than she appears.”
“Looks ripe enough to me.”
Talia punched her on the shoulder, then winced. Even with the added strength and power of the wolfskin, it was like punching a tree.
Hephyra’s expression turned uncharacteristically gentle. “How long do you plan to wait for her?”
“Talia!” Danielle hurried over, saving her from having to respond. “We’re ready.”
Hephyra clucked her tongue. “I still say you’re crazy.”
Talia wasn’t sure whether the dryad was referring to their plan to rescue Jakob or Talia’s feelings toward Snow. Either way, she was hard-pressed to argue.
“It’s about time.” Talia unlaced her boots, tugged them free, and tossed them aside. Her weapons she handed over to Danielle, all save a pair of daggers and her zaraq whip.
“That cape is going to weigh you down,” said Gerta. Talia hadn’t even noticed her climbing down to join them.
Talia jerked a thumb at Danielle. “That’s why her friends will be doing the actual swimming.”
Hephyra ordered the lanterns extinguished, all save one which hung from the mainmast. Talia could see no sign of Snow’s ship on the horizon, but if Danielle’s dolphins said they were close… “I hope your overgrown fish know what they’re doing.”
“They’ll get you to Snow’s ship, and they’ll follow behind until you emerge with Jakob.”
Talia tied her hair back. “They know I have to breathe, right?”
“I’ll remind them,” Danielle promised.
“That water is freezing,” Gerta said.
Talia ran a hand over her cape. “The wolfskin should help.”
“It’s not enough.” Gerta hurried toward the mainmast. She climbed just high enough to reach the lantern. Stretching out with one hand, she traced several symbols onto the glass with her finger. Talia winced, but the heat didn’t appear to burn her.
Gerta ran back, her cheeks flushed. “Push back your cape.”
Talia raised an eyebrow, but complied. Gerta put her hand on Talia’s shoulder and traced the same symbols, whispering a spell in Allesandrian. Heat spread through Talia’s shirt, almost uncomfortable.
“I took the warmth from the lantern’s light,” Gerta explained, her hand lingering on Talia’s arm. She glanced at Talia, flushed, and jerked her hand away. “The heat is diffused, so your shirt won’t catch fire. Hopefully.”
“That would make it harder to sneak onto Snow’s ship,” Talia said dryly. Seeing the worry on Gerta’s face, she added, “Thank you.”
Gerta brightened. “It’s not much, but it should help. Be careful.”
“Why start now?” Talia made her way to the foredeck. Danielle’s two dolphins swam alongside the Phillipa. She climbed onto the rail and swung her legs around to the outside. Waves broke against the ship, the spray chilling her bare feet. Holding her breath, she braced her legs and kicked off.
It was like diving into a wall of ice. Air burst from her lungs. Her cape yanked at her neck as she kicked for the surface.
She found herself staring into the glassy black eye of a dolphin. “I don’t suppose you come with a saddle?”
The dolphin tilted backward until it was swimming upright with only the head protruding through the waves, almost as if it were standing.
“Could be worse,” Talia muttered. “Last time, she called sharks.”
The dolphin’s skin was smooth, almost silken, yet it wasn’t slippery. It reminded her of fine, well-oiled leather. She grabbed the dorsal fin with one hand and reached for a flipper with the other.
She barely had time to hold her breath as the dolphin’s body curved and flexed, and then they were shooting through the water like they had been launched from a cannon. The dolphin surfaced a short time later, just before Talia ran out of air. She glanced behind to see the Phillipa already shrunken to the size of a toy. The dolphin’s power was equal to any horse, and Talia stopped worrying about anything save breathing and holding on.
The heat of Gerta’s magic enveloped Talia, pushing back the water’s chill. Her hands and feet were numb, but her core was warm. Spray washed over her as the dolphin surfaced again. She could hear it sucking air through the blowhole on the top of its head. The second dolphin swam a short distance to her left, their movements almost perfectly synchronized.
Her hands were starting to cramp by the time she spied Snow’s ship in the distance. The moonlight showed only a black outline sailing east. As they neared, Talia began to make out the details of the stolen ship. Snow had taken the Lynn’s Luck, a square-rigged, three-masted vessel. She sailed in darkness, her lamps cold.
Anticipation warmed Talia’s blood as they swam closer. She studied the Lynn’s Luck, gauging the best way to sneak on board. A small boat hung from the stern, offering one option. She could also try to reach the anchors near the bow.
“The stern,” she decided, giving the dolphin’s dorsal fin a gentle tug. The boat shouldn’t make much noise, and hopefully most of the crew would be looking ahead, not behind. She brought one bare foot up onto the dolphin’s back, behind the dorsal fin. She braced herself there, legs taut and ready to spring as the dolphin swam closer.
Talia’s breath hissed. The boat was still too high, and she had no way to climb the hull. Nothing that wouldn’t draw attention, at any rate.
The dolphin ducked beneath the waves. Talia bit back a yelp as the water swallowed her. She clung to the fin as they swam deeper, then somersaulted underwater. The movement nearly flung Talia loose. The dolphin’s body flexed hard, shooting them upward. Talia realized what was happening an instant before they broke the surface and launched into the air.
Any closer and she would have smashed her head against the boat. She reached out, catching the edge of the boat as the dolphin dropped back into the sea. The boat swayed, knocking once against the Lynn’s Luck ’s hull before Talia could steady herself. She waited, but nobody came to investigate.
Talia pulled herself up and grabbed the closest of the ropes securing the boat to the ship. She never could have done it without the added strength of the wolfskin. She climbed higher, doing her best to avoid the windows built into the ship’s stern. She listened again, then pulled herself up to the rail and onto the Lynn’s Luck.
She crouched low and slid a dagger from its sheath. A single crewman stood on the yard overhead, working with no light save the moon. Talia crept toward the pin-rail at the base of the mizzenmast.
