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WHAT'S THE EASIEST WAY TO STEAL A MAN'S PRISONER?
THE MOOD HAD CHANGED ABOARD THE WHALER. The longer it all went on, the more Anya realized why Mal was so respected amongst trackers before he became a fugitive. Even in the unknown waters of the sea, he was able to navigate them according to what little could be guessed by the surroundings. Or at the very least, he was skilled at pretending to keep things under control. At least the latter she could relate to.
Anya refused to speak to Nikolai ever since their dispute, and each evening, when she saw the Darkling parade Alina across the deck in front of Mal, her anger was fueled anew. She came to the conclusion that in an ideal world, there were no kings. If even someone who had lived amongst pirates and the common folk was unable to let go of their royal audacity, then perhaps no one would ever be good enough to rule a country with true justice. Nikolai's good intentions were worthy of nothing when it came to real issues, because not every problem could be solved by negotiations and tactfulness. Sometimes all you can do to win is be brutal.
The week wore on, and with each day Anya grew more on edge. From the fourth day onwards, she barely talked not only to Nikolai, but to anyone at all; most days she completed only the absolutely crucial of her tasks and spent the remaining time sitting alone on the crow's nest, by the railing or in her cabin.
After her days of carefully crafted solitude, it was all the stranger to be awakened by a hand shaking her violently early in the morning, before dawn came.
Anya jumped out of her bed at the feeling with her arms outscretched to push her attacker off with a quickly made blast of air. She raised her hands and was ready to strike when the face of the person lying on the floor was finally recognized, along with the voice murmuring a quiet Ouch.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Anya whisper-yelled, all the more angry after recognizing the intruder.
"Good morning to you, too," Nikolai said cautiously, gathering himself from the floor.
Anya lowered her hands sharply. "I am so close to just killing you where you stand."
"The tracker found something," he responded. "I'm only here to spread the good news."
For a moment they just stared at each other as Anya calculated her next move.
"His name is Mal," she finally said, furrowing her brows. "Consider the message delivered. I'll go up in a moment."
Anya crossed her arms and pinned him with a glare, waiting for Nikolai to leave her cabin. She cursed the world for sending him as the bearer of good news, because if it were Tamar, Tolya, Yakow or someone else, she might have had it in herself to let go of pride and irritation and actually show some of the relief she felt. There was no way she was going to have a what a time to be alive conversation with Nikolai; her disappointment in him was far too fresh to cross over.
