I pointed at the jug. “Is that liquor or turpentine for cleaning the ship?”

“Some of both?” Leo was the Velox’s all-purpose handyman. A slouchy hat covered his thin red hair, and his face was a contour map of lines and wrinkles. He pointed at the empty chair beside him. “Care to join?”

“What’s the buy-in?” Clarice’s sailors never played simply for fun. There were always stakes—the higher, the better.

Leo’s gaze narrowed as he scanned the details of my undoubtedly expensive dress—another from Jackie’s collection. His inspection paused at my hair. He waggled a finger at my left temple. “That.”

I patted the comb I’d fastened in my hair that morning. I’d found it in the steamer trunk while searching for a ribbon to tie around the end of my braid. Inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the comb had caught the afternoon sunlight, and its rainbow nacre reminded me of the sheen on my Thunder Cloak. A Thunder Cloak I’d discarded on the basilica’s beach. I cursed myself for letting Taviano talk me into leaving it behind.

I removed the comb and presented it to Leo. “Deal me in.”

Not only did he give me a share of the cards and chips, but he also poured me a shot of his homemade brew. I wrinkled my nose but gulped it down. If I drank enough, I might temporarily forget all my fears and regrets. I might also open myself to Jackie’s manipulations and dampen my connection to the storms—risks I couldn’t afford, not even for a few welcome moments of numbness.

Instead of offering my cup when Leo poured the next round of drinks, I waved him off and focused on my cards. Although if I lost the game and forfeited my fancy hair comb, I wouldn’t cry. Gambling away Jackie’s fineries appealed to my sense of defiance. It was a small and petty rebellion, but I didn’t care.

We played until the booze ran out, which was around the same time Clarice demanded that everyone get back to work. By then I had lost a second hair comb and a pair of slippers. Anscombe said he was saving them to give to his daughter when he returned home—somewhere on a small island off the southern coast of Agridan.

Still hoping to avoid Jackie, I asked for a chore or task to keep me occupied. Leo lent me a huge fishing pole from his personal collection and a bit of salted fish from the galley for bait. “How about you try catching us something fresh for supper?” he suggested.

I cast my line over the port rail near Clarice’s position at the helm and waited.

She pointed at my pole. “Hoping to catch a sea monster?”

“Maybe? At least it would be something exciting.”

“You want excitement, you came to the wrong place.” She folded her arms behind her back and narrowed her gaze, staring at the prow. The sun had darkened her skin to deep, rich ocher, and the lines around her eyes and mouth spoke of age and experience. If I had to guess, Clarice was about as old as my father would have been if he were still alive. “It’s a lie, you know, the romanticism of a sailor’s life. The young folks dream of running away from home, setting sail, exploring the world. Then they find out how much of that adventure is composed of drudgery. The days of bobbing on an infinite ocean, staring at a horizon that never changes. The endless chores. The boring food.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because there is one truth mixed into those lies, and it is that truth that compels me.”

“And what is that?” I cast my line again and watched the bait sink below the surface.

“Freedom.” She waved her hand in a gesture encompassing our surroundings. “Out here there is no government, no society, no laws other than those imposed by Mother Nature and Father Time. No one to tell me what to say, how to behave.” She pointed at my dress and wrinkled her nose. “What to wear.”

“But what about when you’re in port?”

She raised her shoulder and dropped it. “For a few days I put on my human suit and pretend to be one of you. It’s the cost of living life on my terms, and it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

My line tugged, a tickle of movement, like a fish taste-testing the bait. I kept my pole still and waited. “You don’t consider yourself to be human when you’re out at sea?”

“Not by your definition.”

The tip of my pole bowed as my tentative fish committed to taking the bait and running. “You might be surprised by my definition.” Gritting my teeth, I braced against the rail, clenching my muscles to fight against the fish. It seemed determined to drag me overboard. “Not all of us are always what we seem to be.”

Clarice’s expression brightened as she scurried to my side and whooped. “You got yourself a sea monster after all, didn’t you, girl?” The fish roiled beneath the surface, churning foam. Flashes of gold glinted as scales caught sunlight. My biceps bulged, tendons straining to hold the pole while Clarice shouted: “Bring us the gaff! Somebody bring us the damned gaff!”

I expected a fish that heavy and vicious to snap the line, but it held. Clarice’s demands and the fish’s thrashing drew Ambrose and Leo’s attention. They scurried to my side to cheer me on, but both fell silent as they peered overboard.

“That’s no fish,” Ambrose muttered in his deep baritone.

Clarice’s third crew member, Mariana, produced the gaff—a wicked hook at the end of a long pole—and passed it to the captain. “What is that?” she asked, eyes wide.

Clarice jabbed the hook at the creature. It darted, tugging on my line, and she missed. She cursed and aimed again. “Hold it steady, girl.”

Gritting my teeth, my knuckles white as I struggled to keep my grip, I grunted at her. “I’m trying.”

She squinted, shoulder muscles bunching, and jabbed again. The gaff pole shuddered, and Clarice hissed. “Got it. Ambrose, pull it in.”

He grabbed the pole, and his massive arms flexed as he hauled up our catch. The moment the creature broke the surface, my breath froze. My eyes bulged. “What in the Shadowlands...?”

With some help from Leo, Ambrose managed to bring the creature over the rail and onto the deck. It landed with a metallic clank, and something inside it rattled and clicked. What I had thought were golden scales turned out to be brass—thick plates of armor, each riveted in place. The creature shrieked an unearthly noise and gnashed serrated teeth, each as long as my finger. It writhed on the deck like a serpentine nightmare.

“I’ve seen mechanical creatures before,” I said, “but nothing as horrible as this.”

“This thing is nothing like your circus friends’ undead menagerie.” Jackie’s sudden presence startled me, and his disgust showed plainly in the curl of his lip. “This is purely mechanics—gears, cogs, and springs.”

“What’s it doing out here in the middle of the ocean?” I asked.

“Scouting,” Clarice said.

“Scouting?” I asked. “For what?”

“For us, or any other targets it could find. If we hadn’t caught it, it would have recorded our location and returned to its master.”

“How would it record our location?”

She clucked her tongue. “Do you know how a phonograph record gets made? Wax cylinders and all that?”

I frowned. “I’m not familiar with the process, no.”

“Well, I’m not going to waste my time explaining it then, but it’s a similar mechanism, recording longitude and latitude as it moves through the water. Once it finds a target, it stops making notes. The last position marked in its record tells its master where to find us. So we better get underway, quickly, unless we want company. And let me assure you, the master of this monstrosity is not the kind of company we want to keep.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Because this is not my first encounter with one of these beasties.”

“Who’s its master?” I asked.

“Zhou Min, fiercest pirate on the seven seas.”

Clarice charged toward the helm. Jackie and I followed.

“She’s damned smart and one of the most cunning women I’ve ever met. She’s also one of the most ruthless. If she catches us, I’ll lose my ship, and she’ll take us all prisoner... if she doesn’t just kill us.”

Clarice pointed at Mariana, who stood along with Ambrose and Leo beside the creature. She wore a look of horror as she watched it squirm at the end Ambrose’s gaff. “Marina, you’re on watch. Keep your head on a swivel. Don’t let Zhou sneak up on us. Leo, start shoveling coal. Get this paddle wheel pumping.”

Jackie gazed at the expanse of water behind us, as if searching for another set of sails. I searched the horizon, too, and the dread rising in me stirred up a stiff wind. The water turned choppy. I took a deep breath, trying to ease my nerves. We might need the lightning if Zhou caught up to us, but for now the storms would only get in our way.