“Then let’s hope they’ve drank enough to be submissive but not so much that they try something stupid. If it helps, I don’t want any shots fired tonight. That sound carries over the water, and the less attention we attract, the better.” He scanned the boats with a small frown. “We’re down a few more than I’d like. One of my men hasn’t checked in for some time. Anders’s cousins were going to help, but they’ve run into some legal trouble, I hear. It is what it is. If luck is with us, this group is all we need.”

   Tom was right about the mist thickening. By the time we’d reached the port, it was hard to even make the ships out. Tom had to confer with Elijah and another man before determining which one the Queen Grace was. When they’d made the identification, the skiffs came up alongside it, and no one spoke. All communication was done by hand signal. Lesser Tom scaled the ship’s side with astonishing dexterity and disappeared over the top of the railing. A little while later, a rope ladder came tumbling down, and all but two of us climbed up. The others stayed with the boats.

   I was one of the last up, and my comrades had already encountered some of the crew. As I swung over the rail and onto the deck, I saw Elijah disarm one sailor while Joanna held a couple of others at gunpoint.

   “Sweep the ship,” ordered Tom. “Don’t let any of them get a gun.”

   A few sailors down below hadn’t realized what was happening. I went with Elijah and Anders, and the three of us took a group by surprise. One sailor pulled out a knife and looked as though he might rush us. After doing a double take at our blades and guns, he surrendered his weapon.

   When all the sailors on the ship were secured, Tom had them locked in the captain’s chambers. Then we began the arduous task of hauling out crates from the cargo holds.

   “I hope these are filled with gold,” one man said with a grunt. “They feel like it.”

   Each skiff could hold a couple of crates, and once one was loaded, Tom would send it off. I found myself in a boat with Joanna and Lesser Tom. He rowed, and she smiled over at me.

   “Easy work, eh?”

   “Surprisingly, yes,” I admitted. “Tom said it would be, but I didn’t really believe him.”

   “You shouldn’t,” she said. “Don’t trust any man who smiles too much or gives too many compliments. I keep hearing you’re good . . . but also a little squeamish.”

   “Not squeamish. I just don’t like hurting or taking advantage of innocent people.”

   “You’re in the wrong business then, little angel. But if you ever get tired of Tom, come work for me.” She kicked at one of the crates. “Let’s see what’s in these, shall we?”

   “I don’t think we’re supposed to,” said Lesser Tom uneasily.

   Joanna ignored him and took out a heavy hunting knife from her belt. She broke a crate’s seal and popped the lid open. Even Lesser Tom couldn’t help his curiosity and leaned in with us to look.

   “Cutlery?” asked Joanna in disgust. “It’s a good thing we didn’t risk our necks tonight. Would’ve hated to get shot at for a bunch of forks.”

   Not just forks. The crate also held spoons, plates, and cups. “Are they worth anything?” I asked.

   “Mostly pewter and horn. The knives are iron, but all of it’s plainly made. Real silver’s usually his game.” She gazed at the other boats thoughtfully. “I’ll say this, he’s certainly got a lot of it. I suppose if he can sell it all, there’s money to be made. But it’s not something I’d pick. Fewer things worth more money are the way to go.”

   When we arrived back at the cove, the party split up. Tom had had wagons and horses hidden, and he instructed half of the men to take the crates to one of his storehouses. The rest of us rode back to Cape Triumph to collect our pay.

   “No Dancing Bull tonight,” Elijah said cheerfully. “He doesn’t keep enough money there to cover tonight’s work. We’re going to Molly’s. She keeps track of his big money.”

   “I’m sure she doesn’t mind,” said Joanna. “Then everyone can gamble it away at her place.”

   Molly’s was a nondescript house from the outside, but a gambling den inside. It was a darker, rougher place than the tavern I’d been to with Grant. Immediately inside the door, four huge men checked us over and took our weapons.

   “Molly trusts no one—not even friends,” Tom said. “She moves too much money to take any chances. We won’t get any special treatment here, so don’t step out of line.”

   The smell of sweat and smoke that I’d come to associate with these places filled the air, as did the heat of so many people enclosed in one space. But unlike other taverns, this one had a very clear purpose. Some patrons diced or played other games, but poker was the main attraction, and tables filled with a wide range of classes and vocations spread out over the room. There were more of Tom’s ilk, but also pirate pretenders, tradesmen, laborers, and all sorts of other citizens hoping to make it big. A number of them wore festival masks and made toasts as they played. Others remained deadly serious. We were regarded with interest by some but not nearly as much as we received in other venues.

   A woman, older than me but younger than Joanna, came striding forward. She wore a bright blue satin dress and looked completely unimpressed by us, or anyone really. I was sure part of that strength and confidence came from having henchmen on either side of her. But I also suspected that she, like Mistress Smith, had an inner strength that commanded respect.

   “I know that look, Tom,” she said. “You must have had a good night and need to pay out. Let’s go look at the books.”

   “Still don’t see how it’s that big a payout,” Joanna said when he was gone. “But you must be happy about it, judging from that big smile.”

   “Oh, I am,” I told her. “I’m also just happy to see another tough woman in this city. I keep finding more and more of them.”