Page 16 of Drift: Willa & Koy

His bottom lip jutted out as he thought about it. “No, don’t think so.”

I exhaled, relieved. “Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem, Willa.”

I started back the way I’d come, gaze fixed on theFeatherbackin the distance. It was usual practice to send messages to other ports through the helmsmen of ships, and they were bound by agreements with the Trade Council to treat them with discretion. But that didn’t mean that I trusted them to get my letter to West all the way to Ceros unread. If someone did open my letter, they wouldn’t find anything damning, but it was enough to peak curiosity and that made me nervous.

The bigger problem was that I was almost sure Koy wouldn’t approve of my sending it. We’d agreed from the beginning that we wouldn’t get involved in the business of traders, and I’d already broken that promise once when I bought Ailee from her helmsman. Koy hadn’t let me forget it, either.

I stopped walking when I saw that the harbor master’s post window was now open. I could walk straight past it and give my message to theFeatherbackand Koy would know no different. Eventually, however, if what the deckhand said last night was true and this thing blew up the way I thought it would, it might come out that the news originated here on Jeval. And Koy wasn’t stupid. It wouldn’t take long for him to put together what I’d done.

What happened with Ailee had been different. I knew that. I’d given her the protection no one else would because I knew what it was like tobeher. But I’d paid fairly, taken her room and board on myself, and we’d kept business with the ship she’d been on. We were no worse for wear, even if I had less coin to show for it.

This letter in my pocket—that felt like a lie.

I pulled the watch from my pocket and checked the time. If I was going to get the first coat of seal done on theWellworthybefore sundown, I needed to get started, but there was no getting around the fact that if Koy and I were partners—and we were—then I owed him the truth. If we couldn’t trust each other, we wouldn’t last another year in this harbor.

I knocked on the door of his post, almost instantly regretting it. Through the window, I could see him slipping his faded white shirt over his head, the sliding over dark, tanned skin. His trousers hung low on his hips, and since he’d shaved his long hair off, his shoulders looked even broader over his narrow waist.

There were times when I let myself look at him. There were even times when I imagined myself touching him, but there was a self-imposed limit to how much I’d let myself feel. The clear boundary I never crossed was the moment that warm liquid feeling surfaced in the center of my chest. That’s the place I kept my toes on the sand. Just far enough from the break of the wave to not be pulled out to sea.

When he opened the door, he looked surprised to see me. “Oh, Willa.” He didn’t have that sleepy look, so he’d likely been up for a while, going over his manifests.

“Morning,” I said, gesturing inside. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” He let me pass, closing the door behind me.

The post wasn’t much bigger than mine, built to be both his home and his office. From the window, he could see the full length of the harbor from the first bay to the last. Only a year ago we’d stood on the old, crumbling docks together planning the exact spot for this place. It still smelled like freshly planed wood.

“I need to talk to you about something,” I said.

Koy stoppered the ink pot on his little table, but I could tell he was already listening.

“Last night, I heard something in the tavern. Something… important.”

“All right.” He waited.

I swallowed. “Do you know who Emilia Marley is?”

“The rye crofter?”

I nodded. “She’s also the rye guild’s master.”

“Yeah, I know who she is.”

“When we were having a drink with Coen, I heard someone from theIrissay something.” I hesitated.

“Spit it out, Willa.” Koy almost laughed.

“It sounded like she’s sick. Like maybe she’s dying.”

The smile melted from Koy’s face.

“And, I don’t know, the way he said it was almost as if it was being kept secret.”

“Well, if it’s true, then I’m sure they aren’t advertising it. I mean, if Emilia Marley died, that would…” He tried to find the words.

“Change everything,” I finished.