“Unless they’re healed. That’s what you told me.”
He poured more rum. “No. Any person bitten by a salter, whether healed or infested. The law dates from the arrival of people from Europa and Africa. It was part of the original treaty that allowed the Malian fleet to set up the independent territory and city of Expedition on the island of Kiskeya. By ruthlessly enforcing the quarantine, the caciques stopped the disease—and other diseases that came with the fleet—from spreading as much as they would otherwise have done.”
“Are you telling me I can’t ever leave this island?”
“No, I’m telling you I have plans to get you off this island. You must keep your mouth shut about this conversation and especially about my association with Camjiata. Don’t tell anyone. Be patient, like Abby. When I tell you to act, act immediately, no questions. Can you promise me that?”
“What choice do I have? Drake, what day is it?”
“The second of Augustus. As we Celts say, Lughnasad.”
Seven full months had passed while I had floundered in the spirit world. Lughnasad was one of the cross-quarter days. Was that why I’d been drawn back at just this time?
“How did you get here, that you don’t know what day it is?” he asked.
With a racing heart and a stab of fear, I suddenly realized I could not answer the question even had I wanted to. “How do you think people commonly arrive in the Antilles?”
He took a swig from the bottle and offered it to me. When I hesitated, he lifted it to my lips. He had a delicate touch, and the rum did calm me. “Come now, Cat. There can be no reason I could have expected to see you ever again, much less on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean from Adurnam.”
I felt like a cornered rat, but I had to say something. “I was kidnapped. I ended up here.”
“Floating in the sea?” He laughed. “Did you get thrown off the ship or did you jump?”
“Since I can’t swim and I am terrified of water, why would you think I would jump?”
“Since I don’t know, you have to tell me.” He glanced heavenward and then back to me. “That’s why I asked.”
The secret belongs to those who remain silent, as Andevai had once said to me. “It’s too painful. I’m not ready.”
An expression brushed by a glimmer of impatience creased his face and vanished into a gentler smile. “When do you think you might be ready, Cat?”