CHAPTER 31

It’s McVeigh who gives them the lugger. The Starling is still in Cossack with Thomas, stripped of its rigging and stashed in mangroves out of town.

They had told the missionary about their plans to sail out to the Rosellas and then beyond to search the other islands. McVeigh had paused. Frowned. Pulled his thumb and forefinger through his beard.

“You know I do have a lugger myself?”

The weakening sunlight had made its way in through the window, and Eliza’s face broke into a smile. The boat was a gift originally, he had told them, from a wealthy pearler whose son McVeigh had traveled to and given last rites some years ago.

“She’s called Moonlight,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never sailed her. She’s yours.”

After they’d thanked him and turned for the door, he stopped them. The sound of bird chatter filled the spaces between his sentences.

“Just so I have this clear. It’s the two of you who are going to be taking this boat out?” They nodded. “You, a woman, and you, a beachcomber?”

“That’s right.” Eliza had tried to ignore the waver in her own voice.

“Won’t you be needing a deckhand or a chef? Someone to help… navigate?” The two had looked at each other, belief in their own plans faltering slightly.

“May I offer my services, miss?”

The voice was quiet but confident enough. They turned to see that it had come from Quill, the apprentice, who had once again appeared at the back of the mission house without anyone noticing.

“I’ve learned to cook from the most skillful Chinese chefs, carpentry from the Malays too; I’m a better deckhand even than any Manilaman you’ll find.” The child looked pointedly at them, eyes clear and unflinching. “I’ve been on plenty ships before, opening shell, watching anchor, I can read the tides and the currents. Maybe I can help with some language, even. You never know who you’ll meet out on the water.”

Eliza had let out a laugh.

McVeigh had turned to them, eyebrows raised. “Well, I never. I should think that’s a rather good idea, if you’ll have him?” Eliza had paused, looked from Quill to Axel, who seemed to weigh the thought like flour.

“How much you paying?” Quill asked, bolder now.

McVeigh had blanched and apologized. “The boy doesn’t need paying,” he said dismissively. “He just needs meals. Shelter. Something to wear on the ship.”

Eliza had looked to the apprentice and remembered the book she had handed back the day they first met. How Quill had taken it from her and hugged it tightly. Saltwater Cowboys: Adventures on the High Seas.

Quill had held her gaze.

“The deckhand will be paid,” she said.