Hammer of Witches by Shana Mlawski Page B

twisted his foot, and went crashing down onto his elbows. His papers, needless to say, went flying in all directions. Martín turned away from Sanchez without another word.
    While Sanchez chased down his errant papers, Martín threw his hand out toward Antonio. “This is what the queen sends me,” the captain said. “Some idiot accountant to report on every last maravedí we spend!”
    “Aw, give the kid a break,” Antonio said about Sanchez. “Rodrigo’s a good lad.” Glancing in my direction, Antonio went on, “And speaking of good lads, I have two more for you and the admiral. So I’ll be taking my maravedíes now, if you don’t mind.”
    Martín’s thin lips curled up slightly at the edges. “Looking for money again, de Cuellar? What, your girlfriends raise their rates again?”
    The way Antonio flashed his teeth, you’d think the captain had given him a compliment. “That’s what I like about you, Martín. Always such a good sense of humor.”
    “Yes, I am hilarious,” Martín said dryly. “And you know what else is funny, de Cuellar? The fact that I’ve already paid you your salary :”
    “I’m not talking about my salary! I’m talking about the bonus! The ten extra maravedíes for supplying a spry young cabin boy for Admiral Colón. And I brought an extra boy if he needs one. Juan could be a servant or something.” Antonio moved aside to reveal Jinniyah and me to the captain. I gave the man an awkward bow; Jinniyah, a kind of curtsy.
    Martín appraised us like we were part of a recent catch. “This is all very nice, de Cuellar, but you’re too late.”
    The carpenter eyed the captain. “What do you mean ‘too late’? The ships aren’t leaving for another hour —”
    “I mean we already have a cabin boy. A Don Pedro Terreros, the first son of a very eminent — and highly unpleasant — family from Burgos.”
    “Well, I’m sure you have room for Luis and Juan somewhere. There must be some job these boys can do.”
    Martín’s body grew rigid as he whipped an angry hand toward the Santa María. “Room? Have you been on these ships, de Cuellar? We’ve barely enough room for our supplies as it is, let alone two more street urchins. We’re about to die of thirst and starvation in the middle of the Atlantic, and Antonio de Cuellar brings me two more mouths to feed!”
    “Aw, come on, Martín —”
    “‘Captain,’ de Cuellar! I am a captain, which means I make the decisions! And those boys are not coming with us, and that is final! Send them home, or I will send you home with them!”
    And Martín stormed off, leaving me and Jinni alone with Antonio.
    “But that’s not fair,” the carpenter mumbled as he went. And it wasn’t fair, not at all. The Niña. The Pinta. The Santa María. In less than an hour, these ships would be leaving without me, leaving me to deal with the Malleus Maleficarum on my own. The Baba Yaga’s prophecy would unravel itself without me, and whatever Amir al-Katib wanted from me would remain a mystery forever.
    “No,” Antonio said, reaching back to anxiously pat the front of my tunic. “No, don’t you go anywhere, Luis. God as my witness, I am getting you on that ship! It’s a matter of honor . . . and . . . integrity . . . and . . . and . . .”
    “The admiral’s bonus?” I tried for him.
    Antonio shoved his sleeves up his brawny arms. “You stay here, Luis. The admiral will hear about this.” Continuing to mutter to himself, Antonio lumbered past me toward the Santa María.
    I smiled weakly as he left. Though his heart was in the right place, I didn’t expect any success out of him. “I guess we go back now,” I said to Jinni.
    The girl’s lips barely moved. “Go back? Where?”
    “I don’t know.” To the inn? To the Baba Yaga? “Maybe we can get onto another ship. There has to be another one around here that —”
    “No!” Jinni exclaimed. A layer of tears glazed over her huge, currently-brown eyes. “These