The "Ship Graveyard" of Igwe?cha was a place where boats went to rot. Skeletal hulls of old merchant cogs jutted from the mud like the ribs of dead leviathans. It was a maze of fog and broken timber, hidden from the prying eyes of the city guard.

  Ojie stood on the deck of a half-sunken barge. He wore a fresh tunic Y?misí had procured, black cotton that hid the bloodstains but not the fatigue in his posture.

  Behind him stood Ayo. The boy had cleaned the rust from the iron sword, though he held it with a grip that was too tight, too angry. He watched the proceedings with cynical, narrow eyes.

  Facing them was Captain Jaja.

  Jaja was a massive man, his skin mapped with the blue tattoos of the River Drake bond. He wore a vest of sharkskin and a necklace of human finger bones. He was the Pirate King of the Delta, a man who had sunk more imperial tax barges than the weather.

  "You speak pretty words, Lion," Jaja rumbled. His voice sounded like stones grinding underwater. "Restoration. Justice. Trade rights."

  He spat a stream of red kola nut juice into the water.

  "But words don't float my boats. You want me to carry an army upriver? You want me to fight the Oyo navy? With what army? I see a boy, a whore, and a one-armed ghost."

  Ojie bristled. The "whore" comment made Y?misí flinch, though she hid it quickly behind her merchant's mask.

  "I have the rightful claim," Ojie said, stepping forward. He let the Golden Lion flare—just a little. A warm, golden light pulsed from his skin, illuminating the fog. "And I have the power to back it. You saw the sky last night. You felt the Void break."

  Jaja laughed. "I felt a lot of noise. Noise attracts sharks."

  He leaned forward, the smell of rum and stale fish rolling off him.

  "You have no coin, Osawe. You have no land. You are a bad investment."

  Ojie gritted his teeth. He was losing them. If Jaja walked, they were trapped in the city until Osazee’s army arrived.

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  "Wait," Y?misí said.

  She stepped out from Ojie’s shadow. She walked up to Jaja, fearless in the face of the massive pirate.

  "Captain," she said smoothly. "We are merchants, you and I. We understand the value of futures."

  "I don't buy futures," Jaja grunted. "I buy gold."

  "Then buy this," Y?misí said.

  She reached into her clothes . She pulled out a single coin.

  It was not a cowrie. It was not an Imperial mark. It was a heavy, hexagonal coin of pure gold, stamped with the Double wings of the Oyo Treasury.

  It was a coin that should not exist in the Delta. It was a coin that spoke of high-level connections, of back channels, of empires moving in the dark.

  Jaja’s eyes widened. He snatched the coin. He bit it. He looked at Y?misí with a new, dangerous respect.

  "Oyo gold," Jaja whispered. "Freshly minted."

  Ojie frowned. He looked at Y?misí. "Where did you get that?"

  Y?misí didn't look at him. She kept her eyes on the pirate. "The Merchant Guild has... reserves. For emergencies."

  It was a lie. Ojie felt it in his gut. But he also saw Jaja’s greed.

  "One coin buys a ride," Jaja said. "Not a fleet."

  "One coin proves we have backing," Y?misí countered. "Real backing. The kind that rebuilds ports and overlooks piracy laws. Help us retake ?do, and you won't just be a pirate, Jaja. You'll be the Admiral of the River Guard."

  She leaned in.

  "Or," she added softly, "you can refuse. And when the Oyo army arrives and they are coming, Captain—they will burn your fleet just for being in the way. We are your only ticket to the winning side."

  Jaja looked at the coin. He looked at Ojie’s glowing eyes. He looked at the fog where his fleet lay hidden, vulnerable.

  "Damn you," Jaja muttered.

  He pocketed the coin.

  "We sail at high tide. My ships will carry your 'army'—if you can find more. But if this goes sour, Osawe... I'll sell your head to the Emperor myself."

  "Agreed," Ojie said.

  Jaja turned to shout orders to his crew.

  Ojie grabbed Y?misí’s arm. He pulled her aside, away from Ayo’s listening ears.

  "Oyo gold," Ojie hissed. "Y?misí, that wasn't Guild money. That was a bribe. Who gave that to you?"

  Y?misí met his gaze. Her face was a mask of calm, but her pulse was hammering against his hand.

  "Survival is a dirty business, Ojie," she said. "I traded information in ?k?. Old debts. Does it matter where the gold comes from if it buys us a future?"

  "It matters if it buys us chains," Ojie said.

  "We are already in chains," Y?misí said, pulling her arm free. "I just bought us a key. Don't ask me how I got it."

  She walked away, toward the gangplank of the flagship.

  Ojie watched her go. He felt a cold knot of suspicion in his stomach. He looked at Ayo, who was watching Y?misí with a dark, knowing expression.

  "She's lying," Ayo said flatly.

  "I know," Ojie said.

  "Are you going to stop her?"

  Ojie looked at the ships. He looked at the rising sun, burning the fog off the black water. He thought of the Void Walkers and the encroaching army.

  "No," Ojie said. "Not yet."

  He put his hand on the hilt of his iron sword.

  "Get on the boat, Ayo. We have a war to start."