Free Eyes Like Sky And Coal And Moonlight by Cat Rambo

the patient grace conveyed by its inanimate face.
    She closed her eyes and envisioned herself something other than Lucy, the youngest, the clumsiest, the least listened to and the most overlooked. She was Mary, her life a constant struggle to look out for those around her, to avoid unleashing the deadly power that would, unless contained, turn the whole world to silver.
    “ All right,” she said. It was Mary’s voice, not a quaver, not a quiver.
    “ You’ll do it?”
    “ Yes,” Mary said.

    The young pirate poked his head in twice more before she was bundled back into the Captain’s cabin. Another black candle guttered in the corner. She couldn’t tell much difference between the air outside and the candle smoke, but she was so weary by now that everything seemed unreal and brighter than life to her, like a hallucinatory fever-dream.
    “ Well?” the Captain demanded.
    “ What did you want with me?”
    “ Are you the Pot King’s son?”
    “ Maybe…” she stammered.
    He leaned forward to stare into her eyes.
    “ Yes or no!” She flinched back from his shout. Her mouth worked noiselessly, terror taking her tongue.
    “ Bring the other in and cut his throat to show this one we mean business,” he said to the pirate holding her.
    “ Aye, sir.”
    Mary, she thought, I’m Mary. If I reached out to touch this man, he would be dead in an instant. “No!” she managed to squeak. Her voice was barely audible.
    He slouched back in his chair, looking pleased, but did not speak.
    She gasped, fighting to shape the words. “Please, you mustn’t!”
    The door opened again and the pirate stood there, holding Devon against his chest, a wicked silver line against the boy’s throat.
    “ I am, I’ll do it, please don’t!” she shrieked. The Captain held up a forefinger to the pirate holding Devon. The knife stayed where it was.
    “ I’m his son, I am, I’ll help you however you like,” she babbled.
    “ Clearly the canary is of more use here than stowed away elsewhere,” the Captain said. He stroked his beard, eying them. “Do you intend to take your true form, Prince Nikolai?”
    She pulled herself up out of her panic, clinging to the thought of Mary. What was the story Devon had provided? “I can’t. The magic went awry. I need another mage to lift it. A Master Mage.”
    His eyes narrowed. “I see. Pity we didn’t keep the sorcerer around longer. I congratulate you on your ingenuity. Who would think such a trifling form would mask a budding mage?”
    “ Trifling?”
    “ We have no use for you until we reach the Coral Tower. But I’m presuming you would rather see the sky and sun than spend the entire journey in the hold?”
    Lucy frowned at him.
    “ All that I require,” he said. “is your word on your name. The vow that no wizard can break without losing his or her magic.”
    The frown stayed on her face, knitting her translucent brows together.
    “ And you,” he said to Devon, who still dangled, his chin stretched upward to avoid the blade. “You’ll swear to make no attempts at escape either.”
    “ How could I escape?” Devon said. “Jump overboard and walk away on the water?”
    “ Just do it!”
    They repeated the words after the Captain.
    “ When do we set sail?” Lucy asked. Perhaps there might be way to get word to her family if she was allowed on deck.
    The Captain laughed.
    “ When?” he said. “Two hours ago, that’s when. We’re far out to sea by now.”
    “ Where are we headed?” Devon asked.
    The Captain pointed at Lucy. “Her…I mean his father’s spawning grounds, the Lesser Southern Isles.”
    He looked to the other pirates. “Take them away for now.”

    They were fed, although it was a dried fish, some hard biscuit and a half mug of sour watery beer apiece.
    “ The Lesser Southern Isles will take us two weeks to reach,” Devon said.
    “ How do you know? Are you from there?”
    “ They teach us geography—that’s maps and how to read them—in the