V. Something in Between

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"Get your head out of your arse, Clikk!" Mr. Bentley snatched my book away and cracked me over the head with it. I had considered myself entirely hidden away behind the stacks of luggage and cargo, but now I saw most of it had been dissembled and cataloged, leaving me exposed.

"Sorry, Mr. Bentley! I was appraising it. Turned out to be a harder task than I thought."

"Oh really? What's it worth?"

"Upon further inspection, nothing, I realize."

"Turn it into privy papers. Now get to work on those padlocks, boy. You should have been done ages ago."

The dead captain's steamer lay before me with padlocks across four latches. I stuck my betties in the locks, tripping them, one by one. Baker came by to watch me work.

He said, "What great treasure do you think Dirk's got in his cabin for the emperor? I'm thinking it might be the original crown jewels of the dead king."

In addition to our raids, we were to sell some precious heirloom to our nation's hateful usurper, an heirloom so precious, the man was willing to negotiate with pirates to get it. Captain Dirk had not provided us with any details, but Mr. Bentley assured us the deal was sound.

"Could be anything," I said, struggling to focus with Baker in my ear. "Only thing I'd ever give the emperor is a dagger in his gut."

"Treasonous thoughts, Clikk."

"We got reason for treason."

"Regicide, though?"

"He ain't no king! He's a usurping mongrel."

A smile tugged at the corner of Baker's mouth as he shook his head at me. He nudged me. "What you plan to do with your share?"

A bitter feeling stewed in my gut as I thought of accepting the emperor's coin. It would be one thing to steal it, but trading with him was enough to make my blood boil. I did not want to get into any of that, so I shrugged and said, "I don't know. Got any ideas yourself?"

"The usual. Wine, women, cards, a hot bath. And if I'm not dead after the first week, I'm going to gather all my girls in Amaranthia and set them up in brownstones as kept women."

"Really?"

"Really. Then I'll take some mansion on a city block and host a séance twice a month."

I laughed outright at him. "I never took you for a spiritualist."

"I ain't one, but I've always wanted to be one of them eccentric aristocrat types. I'll walk with an ivory cane, even though I don't need one. My home will be decked with priceless artifacts, a fireplace in every room, a pantry fully stocked with Skye and the finest cricket fudge in the world."

"Cricket fudge?" I trembled with a mixture of humor and utter revulsion.

"Have you never had it? It's the best."

I covered my mouth, sure I would be sick. "That's foul, Baker."

"Don't rag on something you never tried. They sell it on the street in Locwyn. Taste of home, that is."

I popped the last padlock and slid it from the latch, opening the steamer. A musty odor lifted as I unloaded it. I was pulling out velvet frockcoats and tailored shirts when a spider the size of a cat slipped out and crawled up my arm. I flung it away, shrieking.

"Don't hurt yourself, Fledgling!" jeered one of the cousins as they both passed me. I hated the cousins. The cousins were the only men on the ship related by blood, and one could always count on them to make scornful comments at every opportunity. Whatever one of them said, the other would laugh.

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