“You’ll have the room to yourself, but Birch sleeps in a room that’s attached to the workshop, so he’ll be close by,” Charlotte said quickly.
“Where do you sleep?” he asked.
Charlotte startled a bit at his query. It was the sort of inappropriate question she’d come to expect from Jack, but not a stranger.
Grave made a choking, horrified noise and stepped back. “Argh. Please. I didn’t intend . . .”
Seeing his distress, Charlotte caught her breath and said, “Of course. No harm done.”
“I only . . . I feel so alone,” he said, sitting on the cot. “And you were so kind.”
“I wasn’t kind,” she told him. “No one belongs in the belly of a Rotpot.”
He nodded, staring into the wooden cup Meg had given him. Charlotte’s heart pinched, and she rested her hand on his shoulder.
“And you’re not alone,” she said. “I’m sure Meg will be checking on you all night.”
“Meg?” Grave frowned. “Not you?”
“Trust me”—Charlotte laughed—“it’s Meg you want. She’s a healer and is quite the mother hen. Now drink that sleep draught she made you and get the rest you need. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“I’ll go to sleep,” he said quickly, “but I don’t want to drink this.”
When she balked, he said, “Please.”
“Very well.” She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to drink the strange-smelling liquid.
Charlotte waited in the room until his breathing was slow and even. She stole from the infirmary and made her way to the workshop. She was surprised to find only Meg waiting for her.
“How is he?” Meg asked.
“Asleep,” Charlotte told her. “Where are Pip and Birch?”
“At the dock, tinkering with the Pisces.” Meg moved toward the passage from which Charlotte had just emerged. “I think I’ll stay in the infirmary too. In case he wakes up and gets a fright.”
“Good idea,” Charlotte said, making to leave.
“Charlotte.” Meg’s voice made Charlotte pause. “Don’t let Ash be too hard on you about Grave. Bringing him here was the right thing to do, and Ash knows it. He’s just overly protective of all of us.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” Charlotte grimaced. “He’s never cross with you.”
Meg laughed. “Good night, Charlotte.”
“Night.” Charlotte retraced her steps out of the workshop and toward her room. Her path took her past Ash’s room. The door was ajar, and the voices within brought her to a halt.
“It will be there,” Jack was saying. “Like we hoped.”
“Intact?” Ash asked. “That’s a big haul. How will we bring it back?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Jack told him. “As long as you’re sure that cave you found is a safe enough place to stash it.”
“It’s the best we can manage,” Ash said. “It’ll have to do.”
Along with their voices, Charlotte heard a strange buzzing sound. Curiosity made her peep around the door frame.
Ash was flopped across a chair, his suspenders hanging loose at his waist. Jack stood nearby. His hands were cupped, and a small whirring object hovered above his palms.
Charlotte gasped. “Hephaestus’s hammer! Is that a homingbird?”
Ash jumped out of the chair. “Charlotte!”
The sight of the homingbird had so startled her that she’d forgotten she’d technically been eavesdropping.
She tried to cover her mistake by striding confidently into the room. Jack closed his hands over the tiny bird, and the whirring of its wings stopped.
“Don’t hide it,” she said. “I want to see.”
“This is a private conversation, Lottie,” Ash told her.
She put her hands on her hips. “Then why is the door open?”
“The door is ajar,” Jack said. “Not open.”
“And I presumed everyone was asleep, not haunting the passageways,” Ash said.
“I was checking on Grave,” Charlotte sniffed. “Like you told me to.”
“Who’s Grave?” Jack frowned.
“Charlotte’s act of charity,” Ash answered. “How is he?”
“Sleeping now,” Charlotte told him. “But he’s scared, so being a bit kinder to him wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’ll find time for kindness when we know he isn’t a threat,” Ash said.
She scowled at her brother and turned to Jack. “Where did the bird come from? I didn’t think Birch had figured out how to make them work.”
He didn’t answer, and she drew a sharp breath.
“It’s not a message from inside, is it? From the Empire?” she asked. “Who sent it?”
Jack swallowed, glancing at Ash.
“I already told you this is a private conversation, Charlotte.” Ash pushed her toward the door. “Now go to bed.”
Despite her protests, Ash unceremoniously shoved her into the passage. When she whirled around to shout at him for his rudeness, he shut the door in her face. Charlotte considered banging on the solid wood until Ash lost patience and opened the door again, but she knew that wouldn’t get her what she wanted. The only thing left for her to do was figure out how she would discover whatever Ash and Jack were scheming. That she should just leave it alone never crossed Charlotte’s mind. Charlotte wasn’t one to leave things alone, and Ashley would just have to accept that.
6.
CHARLOTTE CLOMPED HER way down the spiral staircase until she reached the dock.
“Morning!” Jack offered her a leather-wrapped steel flask.
“Ugh.” She waved him off. “It’s a bit early.”
“It’s tea.” He smiled.
“Oh.” She laughed. “Then yes, please.”
He kept a cautious watch over her while she sipped the hot tea. Charlotte knew he was waiting for her to ask about last night and the homingbird, but she wasn’t going to. If she’d learned anything about her brother and Jack, it was that being obstinate about the issue would get her nowhere. The more she acted as though she didn’t care about the incident, the better her chances at getting what she wanted.