Alyster Juell said. “Nightfall meaning nine bells.” Lera glanced at the hourglass in its wrought-iron cage. That was still one hour off, so she didn’t hurry with her evening meal, which they ate topside. Checkmate rocked slowly in the harbor. She had done her best to think of some way past the warships, but nothing had come to mind; Checkmate was a swift little ship and that was about all that could be said for her. If the worst came to the worst, she’d suggest to Kovir that he slip through the blockade on his tiger shark and return home. At least the Admiralty of Denalay would know what had happened to the rest of them. Kovir ate in silence, as he always did. The meal was soon over, coffee steaming in tin mugs, but the ship was quieter than the darkened buildings and closed establishments in the harbor. A dead spread, Lera thought, then told herself not to be morbid. A line of lanterns glowed on the docks where a fresh relief of guards stood at duty, and on the other side of the bay, the lanterns were so far that they looked like fireflies pinned to a black card.
