Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

you.”
    “We’ll have a good start tonight.”
    Knowing Annika, she’d go until she simply couldn’t anymore. Then David would take care of her as best he could, wishing every second that he could do more.
    “I’ll also want to be hearing about these trolls when you return,” Dooley said.
    David couldn’t do that, either. “Not from me.”
    “Fair enough. I’d rather hear it from the driver’s mouth.”
    “If she wants to.”
    The other man nodded. “Then I’ll see you when.”
    This time, they were better prepared to spend time inside a troll. A feather tick mattress was brought in, a pot for cooking, extra oil for the lamps. Many of it came from the houses of those already dead; it felt a bit like raiding, but Annika swallowed that guilt. There was nothing to be done for them now—she could only focus on helping those left.
    Supplies stowed, she checked Austra Longears over again, tightening bolts and oiling joints—then covering some of her nakedness by tying a red ribbon in a bow beneath her nose. She said her good-byes to Elena and Mary. Both looked at her differently now that they knew she’d come from a village full of witches and trolls; Elena’s hug felt stiff. Annika didn’t let herself dwell on that, either. If four years of friendship hadn’t taught Elena the sort of woman that Annika truly was, then the rest hardly mattered.
    But she had to laugh when, in the middle of her embrace, Mary said, “I knew you weren’t from Norway.”
    The last bin of extra coal was scooped from the bunker and carried away. Mr. James came out of the hatch, his thin face red from the heat. Annika waited for a question she couldn’t answer, and was surprised when he said, “I suppose you’ve seen that I don’t always know what to say to you.”
    Well, she could answer that. “No.”
    Nodding, he took off his hat, awkwardly scratched his head. “You’ve always seemed to be somewhere else. Somewhere better, I thought, and I hated to intrude on that by asking about it, so I always said the first thing that came into my head instead of just saying what I was thinking. But this is easy to say, and I’m thinking it, too: Good luck to you.”
    Oh. That was truly wonderful of him. “Thank you.”
    She shook his hand, then straightened as Vashon approached. “Come with me inside, Fridasdottor.”
    Annika climbed through the hatch after the captain, saw the other woman’s attention fall to the bedding on the floor. Her direct gaze rose to meet Annika’s.
    “Tell me truly, stoker: Is this arrangement acceptable to you? Mr. Kentewess seems to be a well-mannered young man, but the fact is, you are an unmarried woman and vulnerable.”
    What could David do to her that he couldn’t do to a married woman? “He won’t hurt me.”
    “But this will affect you in other ways.”
    Understanding finally dawned. “Pregnancy? I’ve never considered that a vulnerability—and it won’t happen, at any rate, because I haven’t taken his seed. I hope to, though. Some day.”
    “I was thinking of your reputation, not of babies,” Vashon said dryly. “Though now I wonder if this would only solidify the reputation you’ve already gained.”
    For being improper? Annika knew it best not to smile, but could not stop the twitch of her lips. “I believe that my reputationis safe, Captain. I have never thought less of any woman who lies with a man.”
    “Yes, but it is not usually what we think of ourselves that makes our lives harder or easier; too often, it is what others think of you.”
    “I will take that risk.”
    “Godspeed to you, then.” Vashon paused at the hatch, straightened again. “ Trolls , Fridasdottor?”
    Annika shrugged. “They’re big and frightening. You have sentinels.”
    “So we do.” Humor lifted the corners of her mouth. “I suddenly feel as if I might have been concerned for the wrong person. You will let Mr. Kentewess know that you hope to take his seed?”
    “I won’t do it while he’s asleep, I assure you. He’ll know.”
    “I suppose he will.”
    With a short laugh, Vashon dropped through the hatch. Annika started the engine, then glanced out. David was embracing his aunt, who was looking up at him with teary eyes and a determined set of her chin. Oh, Lucia. What must she be feeling now? After years aboard Phatéon , she’d been forced off twice: first into a town full of the dead, and now into a town full of people who might be, if they didn’t soon receive food and