Eventually I find a copper coin. Perfect. Back at the door, I place the coin over the top of my thumb and flick it toward the port side of the stern. Brennol turns his head in that direction, leaning forward and squinting. Quickly, yet silently, I make for the stairs on the right and descend them, remembering to skip the step at the top.

When I hit the deck, I slam my back into the wall behind the companionway, ducking out of sight. I think I took the final step too loudly. And Brennol is bound to be even more alert now. I should wait a couple of beats before heading belowdecks.

A door to my left opens.

The door to Riden’s quarters.

He looks first to his left, then to his right. “I thought I heard something. ’Fraid I’m a light sleeper. Didn’t expect you, though.”

I have only a moment to register the fact that all he has on are a pair of breeches before he reaches for me.

I have nowhere to go. Between the walls and the stairs, the only way out is through him. And I suppose it makes sense to simply let him catch me, even though my instincts scream at me not to.

I want to be here. I have a job to do. It’s okay to let him catch me.

“How did you get out of your cell?” he asks. Not an ounce of sleep traces his words, though he had to have just woken. He grabs me by my upper arms, holding me in place.

I say, “I stopped the first pirate I saw and asked really nicely.”

His face is cloaked in shadows, but I swear I can hear his smile. “I’m the only one who has a key.”

“Perhaps you dropped it, then. That was careless of you.”

He touches his side as if to grab a pocket, then remembers he’s not wearing a shirt. A fact I haven’t been able to forget.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t smell so good. Pirates are supposed to stink. Why does he have to smell like salt and soap?

He yanks me forward, and I realize I should probably be putting forth at least a little resistance. So I place my hands on his chest and shove. The night air is brisk, but Riden is still warm from being wrapped in bed. Warm and solid and good smelling.

With iron-gripped fists. If he bruises my other arm, I will have to retaliate.

He hoists me to the door he came out of. It’s as dark as the end of a cave in here, but Riden seems to find whatever he’s looking for just fine. He pulls me back outside with him and holds something up in the air for me to see.

“This would be the key I so carelessly dropped,” he says.

“Strange, that.”

He sighs. “Alosa, what are you even doing out here?”

“You’ve kidnapped me. What do you think I’m doing out here?”

“The rowboats are over there.” He points to the opposite side of the ship. “So why would you be lollygagging around my door?”

“I wanted to kill my captors before I left.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“Still working on it.”

“I bet.”

Down the stairs we go, past the sleeping crew, and into the brig. Riden shoves me back into my cell. Then he tries the key.

Obviously, it doesn’t fit.

Riden observes it more closely. Surprise takes over his face. “You switched them.”

“Hmm?” I ask innocently.

He comes into the cell with me. “Give it to me.”

“What?”

“The key.”

“You have the key in your hand.”

“It doesn’t fit.”

“You can hardly blame me if you broke it.”

I don’t expect him to buy any of what I say. I’m learning that I enjoy toying with him. I like the surprise and … not respect, but something close to it, that shows on his face when he learns something new about me. But I can’t let him discover too much about my true nature. That’d be dangerous.

For him.

Because I won’t fail. I can only imagine what my father would do to me if I did. But I’m not afraid. I’m doing this not only for my father but also because I want to. Because I’m a good pirate and the hunt is thrilling. Because I want to reach the siren island as much as any other pirate. Perhaps even more so. I’m determined to do whatever it takes to get the map. If Riden becomes too difficult, I will remove him from my path by any means necessary.

“I’ll give you one more chance to hand it over, princess.”

It’s brighter down here. Several lanterns are lit outside the cells. I can see Riden’s face perfectly. In the getup he’s wearing, I can see a lot of him perfectly.

“I don’t have anything,” I say again.

He steps toward me slowly, keeping his eyes on mine as he does so. I back up until I hit the wall, but he continues to advance. His face is too close. I can see flecks of gold in his eyes. They’re lovely eyes. I’d like to study them longer.

But suddenly his hands are on my hips.

I think I might stop breathing, but I’m unsure. I’m startled, certainly; am I supposed to slap his hands away or stand still?

He moves his hands up my stomach, never taking his eyes off me. Now I know I’m breathing because I think I might have just gasped. I’m pretty sure I should slap his hands away.

But I don’t. Once he reaches my ribs, he moves his hands to my arms, running them up to my shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re wearing,” he says. “But I like it.”

“Custom-made,” I say.

“And then stolen by you?”

I shrug. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You’re touching me.”

“I’m trying to get my key back.”

“Sounds like an excuse to touch me.”

He smiles and leans forward so his mouth is at my ear. “I don’t see you stopping me.”

“If I had, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

His eyes shoot up in alarm, but he doesn’t have enough time to guess what I’m about to do until I’ve already done it.

Yes, I knee him. Right between the legs.

He takes some time to recover. Enough for me to exit the cell and lock him in.

He stares at me levelly. “That was low.”

“I thought it was rather brilliant, actually. Besides, you said you wouldn’t touch me. I can see your word does not mean much to you.” I throw at him the same words he used on me.