assignments right now while Mercury is aspected by Uranus.”
“My foot’s going to impact your anus if you keep whining,” Clift said. “Yes, you have to go.”
Kaven, with a long braid that I knew included a strip of thorny vine to prevent enemies from grabbing it during battle, hmph ed and said, “We get a hazard bonus?”
“You’ll need a hazard bonus if you talk back again,” Clift snapped. “What’s wrong with you people-when did you start trying to get out of fights? If we were still on the other side of the line, I’d send you swimming home.”
“Not afraid of a fight with any living man,” Veasely said.
Duncan Tew suddenly appeared before Clift. “Can I go along, too?” he said, his voice shaking. He added, “Sir.”
“Who are you again?” Clift said.
“He’s been taking my swordplay class,” I said before Duncan blurted out his last name. “He’s pretty good. If he wants to go, it’s okay with me.”
“Yeah,” Clift said skeptically. “Well, one more can’t matter either way, so sure, go ahead. No hazard bonus, understand?”
Duncan saluted. “Yes, sir.”
I watched the other ship as Seaton got the wherry ready to go. Part of me wished for a bigger boat and more men, but surely two experienced sword jockeys and three tough ex- pirates could both avoid whatever traps awaited and watch out for one nervous amateur. If not.. well, then I hoped we’d at least have time to know what was killing us before it finished.
Kaven and Veasely rowed, Suhonen steered, and Duncan sat between Jane and me in the bow. The sea was a little rough, and we rode up and down a lot more than I expected, but we quickly approached the strange ship.
Kaven turned his head to look behind us, and Veasely said, “Watch that braid, will you?”
“Sorry,” Kaven said. “Sometimes I forget.”
“You’ve got a damn saw blade tangled in your hair, and you forget?”
“It’s not a saw blade; it’s viper thorn.”
Veasely shook his head. “What ever. Why don’t you just cut your hair, then you won’t have to worry about it?”
“I promised my mother,” Kaven said darkly. It was apparently enough explanation, because Veasely turned to me and said, “So you’re a sword jockey, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said.
With his hands wrapped around the oar, I saw he had a letter tattooed on each knuckle. Together they spelled CANT SWIM. “My brother ran afoul of one of you. He was dillydallying with all the captains’ wives in town while their husbands were at sea. Sword jockey followed him around and gave one captain the list of all the times he’d buried his harpoon into Mrs. Captain, if you take my meaning. He decided it was time to sign aboard another boat. Posthaste.” He grinned, revealing several missing teeth. “With a bachelor captain. But before he left port, he made sure that sword jockey wouldn’t be bothering any more honest sailors.”
I turned to Suhonen. “We don’t get a lot of respect.”
“Most of us don’t deserve it,” Jane added.
“A man gets respect, not his job,” Suhonen said.
“You’re a lot smarter than you let on, aren’t you?” Jane said.
He shrugged. “Not every job requires a smart man. But a smart man can do almost every job.”
We were close to the other ship now. The hull’s wood was aged and sun-bleached. A row of four portholes ran from bow to stern, and when we got closer, I realized they were much larger than the ones on the Red Cow, big enough for a man to easily crawl through. That seemed a dangerous invitation to sinking in rough weather. Above us, the rail looked weathered but intact.
“Ahoy!” Jane called. “Anyone aboard? What ship are you? What master? This is Captain Argo with the Red Cow! Do you need assistance?”
There was no answer.
“She’s riding low in the water,” Veasley observed. “Must have a full belly of cargo.”
We found no ropes or ladders, so Suhonen and Kaven tossed up grapples and hooked the rail. I hadn’t climbed a rope in a long time, and those same muscles still sore from swinging onto the Vile Howl protested again. But I made it, much more gracefully than Duncan, who may never have climbed a rope before in his life. Suhonen had to haul him up the last couple of feet.
We paused to get our bearings. The deck was empty. Totally. Of everything. There were no ropes, no lines, no nets, nothing, just bare wood stained with neglect. The only sound came from the creak of the empty masts above us, and the water slapping against the hull. It didn’t even smell like a ship: no odors of people, food, or cargo.
“No flies,” Jane observed. “So probably no dead bodies or rotted provisions.”
“How many people would it take to crew a ship like this?” I asked.
“Six, bare minimum,” she said. She went up to the wheel and spun it. It turned easily, and kept going when she released it. “The wheel’s not attached to the rudder.”
I asked, “So how is this thing staying still?”
“Seaton was right, I can’t imagine an anchor chain long enough to reach the bottom here,” she said. “Even if it did, it would be so long, the ship would still swing around like a kite on a line.”
“Aye, you’d need more than one,” Kaven said. “One fore, one aft, to really hold her this still.”
“I’m getting a little creeped out,” Suhonen observed. His tone was as steady as if he’d been ordering a drink in a tavern.
Jane walked to the starboard rail and looked over it. “She’s riding low. Really low. She must be loaded with something heavy, like Weasely said.”
“That’s Veasely, ma’am,” he corrected politely.
“Whatever. That would explain a little of why she doesn’t move.”
I walked onto the forecastle and looked back toward the quarterdeck. “You know what this reminds me of?” I said to no one in particular.
“A decoy?” Suhonen said. He wasn’t about to let someone else take credit for his idea.
I shook my head. “A set for a play. Like the one you guys put together. I mean, it looks like a ship, but nothing really functions.”
“It floats,” Kaven pointed out. He held a short-chained mace in his hand, the kind of weapon you had to wield expertly if you didn’t want to smash in your own skull.
We checked the captain’s cabin, but it was an empty room. No bunks, no tables, nothing. No double X on the door. Cobwebs sparkled with dried salt in the corners, and the dust on the floor showed only our footprints. Had the Vile Howl ’s crew not made it this far, or did the dust at sea simply settle faster than on land?
“Let’s check below,” Jane said. “I’m curious to see what cargo she’s carrying.”
“Should we split up?” Duncan asked. His voice was higher than normal, and he was sweating buckets that had nothing to do with the heat. “I mean, should somebody stay up here in case Captain Clift tries to signal us?”
“No,” I said. “We stay together. If this is a trap, we’re walking right into it.”
Suhonen put a big hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Just stay with me, do what I say, and you’ll be all right. I pissed myself on my first boarding, too, and that was a normal one.”
Kaven and Veasely lifted off the hatch cover. It was not fastened; it was just a big piece of wood covering the square hole in the deck.
Jane lay flat and peered over the edge. Instead of the pitchblack opening I expected, I saw light inside, probably from those huge portholes. “Well, that’s weird,” she said as she got to her feet. “I think you’re right, Eddie. But if it’s a play, where are the actors?”
“Us?” I suggested dolefully.
“Then who the fuck is the audience?”
Jane led the way down the ladder into the hold. I wondered what sort of cargo, one that needed no tending
