But Safin didn't seem to hear me. He stopped pacing and stood facing the door, one foot lifted up, his tail sticking straight out.

  “Safin?” I asked hesitantly.

  He opened his mouth and hissed, a long, low, steaming sound. My heartbeat raced, my mouth went dry.

  The lantern flickered.

  “Must hide!” he shrieked. “Keep me secret!”

  “What do you—?”

  He scurried up the wall, squeezing through a narrow gap in the corner of the ceiling and disappearing.

  I was alone again.

  I sighed and slumped back against the wall. The lantern swung back and forth, growing dimmer and dimmer. Stupid, worthless thing.

  And then lines appeared on my floor.

  They glowed with magic-light—a bright white-blue, not murky green. They crisscrossed over my floor, forming lopsided loops around the cabin, tracing over the wall, to the gap where Safin had disappeared.

  Someone banged on my door.

  I jolted and sat up, disoriented by the noise and the veins of white light crossing over my cabin.

  A jingle of keys in the lock. The door swung open.

  “Dinner already?” I said.

  A pirate stepped into my cabin—a woman. I recognized her as the sailor I’d seen swinging through the ropes the day the ship was attacked.

  “I'll be damned, he has been in here.” The woman stomped into my cabin, pistol drawn.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”

  The woman stopped and looked at me for the first time. She was Empire, black hair hanging in a single thick braid down her spine, and she looked nothing like the aristocratic women I was used to.

  “You see all this?” She gestured at the lines with her pistol. “This means the little shit has been in your cabin. Where is he?”

  “The little shit?”

  She sighed. I kept my eye on her pistol, although she didn't seem to have an inclination to point it at me.

  “It's a machine,” she said. “Runs on magic. Looks like a crocodile.”

  “I haven't seen anything like that.” I’d had plenty of experience with lying, and I knew to look her straight in the eye, to steady my breathing.

  “It's been in here.”

  “I've been asleep,” I said. “It might've been in here, but I haven't seen it.”

  She stood with her weight on one foot and studied me, eyes flicking over my face. I didn't flinch away.

  “You aren't going to find anyone who could break it down on Starlight Rock, so no use hiding him,” she said. “Have to undo the magic first, and there aren't many there who can work that sophisticated a magic.”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about.” But as I spoke I thought about Safin's golden scales, his inlaid jewels. He'd fetch quite the price if he were in pieces.

  He must have felt the tracking spell. No wonder he fled.

  The woman gave me another hard look. “You sure about that?”

  “I swear it. I've never seen a magical crocodile in my life.”

  The boat rocked, the lantern swung, the lines of Safin's footsteps glowed.

  “We'll see,” she said, and then she left my cabin, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Our journey to Starlight Rock progressed as it always had, but now my days were punctuated not only by meals and trips up above, but by visits from Safin, who crept into my room with news about the ship.

  “The captain never leaves his quarters unless the moon is out,” he told me. “The crew is bored. The other passengers cry a lot. Hafsa is angry she hasn't caught me yet.”

  Hafsa was the woman who had slammed into my cabin that night. Safin talked about her almost as much as he talked about his great treasure back in Qilar.

  “She wants to sell me in Lisirra,” he said. “Just like the thief.”

  “She can't sell you if she hasn't caught you.”

  “But she'll catch me eventually, yes? I can disembark with you at Starlight Rock, and together we can return to my great treasure!”

  He was so convinced I could save him that it made my heart ache. “I imagine they'll be looking for you when we leave the ship,” I said. “Or Hafsa will, anyway.”

  Safin hung his head. His expression never changed—always the same gleaming eyes, the same toothy grin. But I'd talked with him enough that I could see the other ways he revealed his feelings.

  “I can't stay aboard,” he said. “You are the only one who can converse in Qilari. Who else will help me?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away from him. A year ago I had dreams of swooping in and saving her, taking her away from the palace, running off into the Jokja Jungle together. But now I couldn't even save myself. That Safin thought I could save him was laughable. Ridiculous.

  “You can try and disembark,” I said. “But unless your great treasure's on Starlight Rock, we won't get to it.”

  “It's in Qilar!”

  I sighed. “I know that. I'm just saying— “ He was up on his hind legs, pressing his front claws into the side of my cot. “We would need a ship.”

  “We have a ship here.”

  “We don't have anything.”

  Safin looked at me for a moment longer, blinking. Then he dropped down to the floor and paced. I could imagine the lines appearing the next time Hafsa cast a tracking spell.

  “Do you want to go to Starlight Rock?” he asked, still moving.

  “Of course not. I'm not sure there's even food there. Or anything.” This past month I had done everything in my power not to think about the future. But we were getting close. I knew that. Safin had told me; he'd overhead the crew talking.

  “Then don't go.” He stopped and looked at me again.

  “I'm a prisoner,” I said, irritated. “I have no choice.” Just like the rest of my life. No choice in leaving Jokja. No choice in who I loved.

  Safin didn't answer. I flopped down on my back and stared at the ceiling and listened to the grind of his gears as he walked in circles. Then there was a great bellowing hiss and suddenly Safin pounced on my stomach.

  “Hey!” I scrambled to push him off, but he dug his claws into my dress and held on tight. “Let go!”

  “You must stay onboard the ship,” he said. “That's the only way. Stay onboard and tell the captain we must go to Qilar. Lie if necessary. The great treasure is waiting, and after I am reunited with it, then you can find your way to Idai City. Yes, yes. What do you say?”

  “I say that's impossible,” I told him, and shoved him to the floor. This time, he didn't argue.

  The day we arrived at Starlight Rock I woke with dread in my bones. Safin had not come to visit me the night before and I slept soundly, but when I woke to the clamor of bells that morning, I knew: we had found land. And my life was lost.

  I didn't know if they would let us take our possessions, but I packed my things anyway, all my worn and filthy clothes, the useless list of names Father had given me, my illustrated history of southern Qilar. The hairpin I wore like armor, sliding it into the coil of braids at the back of my neck.

  I sat on my cot and waited. My body was numb; my thoughts were hollow. The bells clanged and clanged.

  I didn't have to wait long. A knock came at my door, and the lock jangled.

  Hafsa waited on the other side.

  She didn't say anything and her gun was put away. But when I saw her, I thought of Safin: you must stay onboard the ship.

  A complete impossibility without leverage. And I had no leverage. My title was lost; my most expensive possession was a hairpin I refused to part with.

  But maybe I didn't need a possession.

  “Come on,” Hafsa said. “We're here. Bring what you can carry. The porter's long gone.”

  I didn't move from the cot.

  “Did you hear me?” she asked, hand moving toward her pistol.

  “Yes.” It came out quiet, almost a whisper. “I—the thing you were looking for. I saw it last night.”

/>   She froze. I forced myself to look away from her pistol and into her face.

  “You're right; he had been coming to my room. I couldn't sleep last night and I—I actually saw him.”

  She dropped her hand to her side and looked me up and down. “What do you want?”

  “What?”

  “You want something out of this. Go on and tell me, and I'll see what I can do.”

  I took a deep breath and reminded myself that my life was over regardless. “I want passage to Qilar.”

  She blinked at me and then threw back her head and laughed. “We don't need the gold that bad, girlie.”

  “No, you don't understand.” The words spilled out of me, and I thought of the deception that had gotten me banished, how easy that had been as well. “The automaton—his name is Safin, he told me that—he's part of a great treasure. And he wants to get back to it, more than anything.”

  The ship tilted, and Hafsa shot out one hand to steady herself against the doorframe. “Go on.”

  “If you told him you were returning him to his great treasure, he'd help you find it, I’m sure. And the treasure's in Qilar, in the swamps, so—” I shrugged. “As payment for helping you find it, you can drop me off at Port Idai.” When she arched an eyebrow, I added, “Or whatever's convenient.”

  We stared at each other in the creaking silence.

  “Wait here,” she said, and she slammed and locked the door.

  I let out a long breath and slumped against the wall. Sweat dripped down my spine.

  “Marjani!”

  I looked up at the gap in the ceiling. Safin's head appeared.

  “Wonderful thinking!” he cried.

  “Were you in there the whole time?”

  “Oh, yes. I knew you'd devise something.”

  “Look,” I said, standing up on the coat so I could lower my voice. “She's probably going to ask me to find you. I don't want to do it here—too suspicious. I'll wander the boat a bit and call your name, and you come out before they hurt me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, yes!” He disappeared, and I collapsed down on the cot. I didn't think this was going to work. I was acting by rote, an automaton myself.

  Hafsa returned. “The other passengers are disembarking now. You have until the last one is off the ship to find the creature.”

  My head spun. “How long will that be?”

  “I don't know. But you better look fast. And don't try anything, either.” She pulled out her pistol and made a show of packing in the powder and the shot. “I'll be right there with you.”

  “What if it won't come out because you're with me?”

  “Then off to the Rock with you.” She grinned, balancing her pistol over one shoulder. I couldn't believe she'd been a run-of-the-mill sailor a month ago.

  “Fine.” I stood up, straightening my spine, lifting my chin. Funny how all those years of etiquette lessons became useful.

  Hafsa held the door for me, and I stepped out into the corridor. It was as dank as always, but I could hear voices overhead, chattering and fearful.

  “Safin!” I called out, winding down the hallway, Hafsa right behind me. “Safin! I've found a way to get you home!”

  I didn't know where I was going. I followed the twist of the corridor. We passed clumps of pirates, and they stared at me, leering. “Safin!”

  “Here, my lady!” We were in the mostly empty storeroom, and he dropped out of the ceiling and landed on my shoulder. I bit back a scream. “Ready to serve you, Lady Marjani.”

  “You can understand that?” Hafsa asked.

  “It's southern Qilari.” I turned to her. Safin draped over my shoulders like a stole. “He said he's ready to serve me.”

  Hafsa stared at me—at Safin—with a mercenary glint in her eye. “I can't believe it,” she said. “How easy—” She shook her head. “Well, they're still disembarking, so you may have found a ticket to Qilar after all. Ask it if it knows the way to the treasure.”

  I did. Safin said, “Of course I know the way! We talked—”

  “He knows,” I said to Hafsa.

  “Yeah, we'll, it better be able to prove it. Come on.”

  We went up above. The sun was high in the sky and bright, and it bounced off Safin's scales and into my eyes. A few of the passengers waiting along the railing turned and looked at me, frowning. We were at a dock, I saw, that led into a shabby little town. Lush green trees rose up behind it.

  “The name isn't really accurate,” Hafsa said. “But you'd be better off in Qilar.”

  She poked me in the back with her pistol, shoving me toward the captain's quarters. She didn't knock, just walked in and gestured for me to follow. The windows were pinned with thick, dark fabric, blocking out the sun. Magic-cast lanterns glowed in the corners, casting a cleaner version of the green light I'd grown so accustomed to.

  No one waited for us in the front room.

  “Sit down,” she said, pointing with her gun to a row of chairs. “And don't let the thing escape.”

  I slid into one of the chairs, and Safin dropped down into my lap as Hafsa left, closing the door behind her.

  “Is it working?” he asked. “I cannot speak Empire.”

  “So far,” I said. “They're going to make you show them the way.”

  “To the great treasure? Oh, delight! I will be reunited.”

  Footsteps. I looked up, one hand resting on Safin's back. Hafsa came into the room and stepped to the side. A man followed her. He was tall and stooped, straggly gray hair falling into his face. When he looked at me I gasped, because his eyes were a pale cold gray I'd never seen before, and I felt them trap me like chains.

  “So it looks like you've captured our little friend.” He walked up to me, his movements measured and graceful. Safin trembled against my lap, his gears clicking. “We were going to chop him up, but I hear tell of a great treasure?”

  I nodded and tried to keep my voice strong. “Yes. Sir. In southern Qilar.”

  The captain dragged a chair and sat down so that he was facing me. “Is this a trick, girl?”

  I shook my head, aware that he was staring at me. Studying me. My thoughts felt suddenly cold, and I went still and focused only on those times Safin told me of his treasure.

  He nodded, satisfied. The cold in my head dissipated.

  “I guess we can make sail for Qilar. Might be a good idea anyway, what with Captain Lao still on our asses.” He glanced at Hafsa. “Ain't that right?”

  “It is, sir.”

  He turned to me. I tried not to look at his eyes but they seemed to loom in his face, threatening to overwhelm me. “You are now a crew of the pirate ship Ocean's Dagger. You that nobleman's daughter I heard some of the sailors talking about? Lady Anaja-tu?”

  I hated hearing that name aloud. “That isn't my name anymore, sir.”

  He laughed. “That's the spirit. So what is your name, then?”

  “Marjani.”

  “Just Marjani. Good enough for me. You ever take a yacht up the royal river, Marjani?”

  “Once or twice.” I kept stroking Safin's back like he was a cat, and his tail curled around my wrist. It was the only thing keeping me calm.

  “Eh, maybe we can teach you a bit about the ropes. Till then, you'd best learn how to handle a mop and broom. Hafsa here can show you.”

  I expected Hafsa to protest, but she didn't.

  “We'll leave here in a week's time,” he said, standing up. “You aren't confined to your cabin any longer but you also can't leave the ship, do you understand? You try, I'll shoot you myself.”

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered.

  If my fear amused him, he didn't show it. “Same thing holds true if we get to Qilar and there's no treasure.” He pointed at my forehead with his finger. “The bullet will go right there.”

  I nodded, tightening my grip on Safin, who snuggled against me.

  “Very well.” He shoved his chair back into place and ambled over to the door leading into the back part of hi
s quarters. “Always was a bit of a risk taker.” He nodded at Hafsa and disappeared through the doorway.

  Seven days later, we were on our way.

  Three months passed.

  My time onboard the Ocean's Dagger was markedly different from my time aboard the Ocean's Rose. Although I wasn't condemned to my cabin, I was condemned in other ways—to polishing the wood on the deck until it shone in the sun, or to helping the cook prepare food for the crew. Hafsa, the closest I had to a human friend, spent most of her time up in the masts, but she was kind enough to me in the evenings, when the crew would while the hours away with music and drinking and dancing. Those nights were the only times I ever saw the captain. Safin had been right: he only left his quarters under the cover of moonlight, and he would stand off to the side and watch the carousing with his arms crossed over his chest, never joining in.

  He frightened me. But he seemed to frighten everyone except Rafi, the first mate who commanded the ship in his stead.

  The day we spotted land was windy and humid and overcast, and the entire crew was in a lazy, indolent mood. I was supposed to be mopping the upper deck, but instead I was looking down at the green-gray ocean, Safin at my side. I hadn't seen much of him during those three months, but the last few days he'd come creeping out of his hiding places, asking if we had arrived yet. Now he was pacing around my feet, chattering to himself about his great treasure.

  The warning bells rang thrice in quick succession. I jumped and grabbed my mop as if it were a weapon, the muscles in my back tense and ready for a fight. Safin stopped his pacing and stood up on his hind legs, head swinging back and forth.

  “What do the bells mean?” he asked.

  “I'm not sure.” But then I noticed that the crew was scrambling up in the masts, looking to the east, and they seemed in high spirits. Land, I remembered. The bells meant land.

  I ran around to the port side, and Safin followed, his claws clicking against the deck.

  Off on the horizon, peeking through the wispy gray clouds, was a narrow line of green.

  “Land? Oh, great treasure!” The automaton leapt up on the railing in his excitement, and I clapped my hands down on his sides to keep him from falling into the water. The land was far off enough to seem like a dream, but I could not stop staring at it. I'd forgotten what it was to stand on an unmoving surface.