“Petra, sit down. There are things we must discuss.”
“No. There are games you want to play, and I’m sick of it.”
“No more games.” Dee reached for his waist and seemed to unbuckle the air. He offered his empty hands to her.
She took the invisible sword, and the weight of it calmed her a little.
“I ask you again to sit, Petra. Allow me to explain what you are, for truly there are few of your kind in this world.”
9
Riddles
I HAVE A BROTHER with four legs and a big hat,” said one of the children sitting in a circle at the stern of the ship. “What’s his name?”
“Too easy!” cried a boy in a red shirt. “Everybody knows that one! It’s a table!”
Parents hovered near their children as they challenged one another with riddles. A few feet away, the gadje sat cross-legged, staring intently at the cluster of people. Two sailors worked close by. Klara was coiling rope and Brishen was scrubbing dried fish scales off the deck, but they both listened to the children’s game.
“I’ve got one,” Klara said, flicking back her braids. “My sister is tiny, thin, and has a long tail that trails behind her.”
“I know,” Brishen said, “it’s a—”
Klara elbowed him.
He gave her a guilty look. “A squid?” He winked at her.
“A squid?” the children yelled. “It’s not a squid!” “What kind of idiot would think that?” “Brishen, you’ve been out in the sun too long!”
“Maybe, maybe,” he said. “But what is it, then?”
They fell silent. Then one girl raised a timid hand. “Um, Klara, is your sister . . . a needle?”
“That’s right!” Klara sang.
Neel was watching this from a distance, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the port side of the ship. He noticed that the blond boy was running his fingers absentmindedly through a patch of sand by his feet, but his gaze never wavered from the riddlers. Neel wondered what the gadje found so interesting about a game he couldn’t possibly understand. The children continued to chatter in Romany.
“My sister has a big belly, two long hairpins, and rocks herself to sleep every night.”
“A ship!”
“I have a brother,” began the boy in the red shirt, “who has many round eyes and a mouth that opens sideways. He has a home wherever he goes.”
There was a pause. Neel guessed what the answer was. Judging by the faraway looks on the parents’ faces, they were thinking the same thing.
Everyone was astonished when the gadje cleared his throat. His accent was thick, but he spoke in perfect Romany: “Is it a wagon?”
“I THINK HE’S CUTE.” Klara chewed on a dried carrot.
“You would,” Ashe said. She passed the flatbread down the table. “Cradle-robber.”
A few men looked up from their stew, alarmed by this conversation.
“Not that kind of cute,” Klara said. “Cute like a little lamb. A lamb who says, ‘I is thirsty. May have tar to drink?’ ”
The Maraki chuckled.
A young boy set down his bowl of stew. He grinned, showing baby-tooth gaps. “He asked me how to say ‘I’d like bread to eat.’ I told him the Romany words for that are ‘I slurp fish guts raw.’ ”
Nicolas reached across the table to muss his hair. “Good lad.”
Andras sliced a lemon. He bit into a wedge and pulled the yellow rind from his teeth. “Don’t know why you’re all mocking one of the few gadje who’s actually trying to learn our language.”
“A dog can sit and beg,” said Neel. “Doesn’t make him a man.”
“What’s he trying to learn Romany for, anyway?” someone asked.
“He’s sucking up to us.”
“He’s just trying to get by.”
“He’s plotting something,” said Neel. “That’s what I’d do.”
A father of five whose family had been rescued by the Pacolet remarked, “I don’t like the boy any more than most of you, but I still can’t believe we’re selling him. Our people don’t do that. When in the history of the Roma have we ever traded slaves?”
Everyone looked at Treb. “New times”—he tossed a raisin in his mouth—“new measures.”
“We could just keep him on board, Treb.” Brishen leaned forward. “He’s young and fit. He’d know the ropes soon enough. He doesn’t complain, and he seems like a helpful sort.”
“All part of the act,” Neel said. “I’m Lovari. I’d know.”
“Not everyone’s as underhanded as you,” said Nadia. “Just because you broke into the Bohemian prince’s toy chest and can never shut up about it doesn’t mean—”
“Neel saved his clan with those stolen jewels.” Andras pointed a carrot at her.
“Well, while we’re discussing people who don’t belong, why don’t we talk about him?” Nadia retorted. “Neel’s Lovari! He said so himself! Why is he suddenly one of us now?”
“Nadia,” Brishen whispered, casting his eyes at the Loophole Beach families, “show some tact. Not everyone here is from our tribe.”
She bit her lip. “I didn’t mean—all I meant is that Neel is counted as one of the Pacolet’s crew. He gets a vote in our decisions, just as if he were Maraki. But he isn’t.”
“Neel’s here as a favor to me,” Treb said. “End of story. Now, as for the Bohemian lad, I want one thing as clear as a rain-washed sky. There will be no vote on his fate. I’m your captain, and what I say on this matter goes. Tomorrow we’ll arrive in Sallay. We’ll sell him in the market, and he’ll fetch a fine price, too. Then we’ll stock the Pacolet’s larders and sail on. If some of you have gotten fond of him, that’s not my problem. I warned you not to. That little lamb’s for eating.”
TOMIK’S CELL was darker than dark. The brig was at the very bottom of the ship, in the hold. He wondered what was swimming on the other side of the hull’s wooden wall: sharks, whales, or just a school of tiny fish startled by the great ship sailing past them? He imagined the fish darting away, their scales flashing.