“Word reached Sagsay Holm yesterday that someone’s going port to port in the Narrows.” He paused. “Burning ships.” Zola paled, and I wasn’t sure why. He had to know it wasn’t safe to leave his fleet behind in the Narrows. Whatever had brought him to the Unnamed Sea had to have been worth it to him. His hand shook just enough to spill a little of the rye on the desk, but he didn’t look up. “Your ships, I suspect,” Clove added. My fingers clamped down harder on the sill of the window. “Saint?” “West,” Clove breathed.
