The cloth over her head stuck wet against her lips with each panicked breath.
Don’t let them suffocate me! she screamed imperiously to her gifts. Her magic responded like an eruption, for though Niya could not move, those around her could, and her powers greedily pulled in the energy they gave off, sucking in every drop to then burst from her palms.
“What the—”
“She’s on fire!”
The thieves sprang back, their grasps loosening.
“Quick!” screamed another. “Put this bitch down!”
Niya’s binds snapped as the flames ate through the rope, her arms free.
“You’re all dead!” she roared, reaching for the cinched cloth covering her face. She felt weak, exhausted by the extreme use of her magic, but her fury kept her moving.
She barely caught a sliver of a sunset sky before a large blanket was thrown on top of her. Weighted hands pressed the sticky, wet material against her, and there was a sizzling of steam as her fire was doused. Niya sucked in air, readying to scream her frustration, but then all too quickly something sweet burned her nostrils on the inhale.
By the lost gods, not again!
The cloying flavor of gaffaw bark was everywhere.
And then it was nowhere as Niya collapsed once again into black.
With a gasp, Niya sat up and then groaned. Her head felt split open. She was free of her binds and blindfold, but her body ached as if it were one giant bruise, and though her clothes were now dry, they felt clingy against her skin. She lay on a soft brown animal hide, and a lantern flickered on top of a wooden crate in front of her, sending warm shadows through the small compartment.
Moving gingerly, Niya took in wood-slatted walls; a single door to her right, no doubt locked; and no windows to be seen. The air felt stuffy but had a rather pleasant aroma, like a perfumed hothouse in Jabari.
By the stars and sea, please let me still be close to Jabari.
This day, if it was even still the same day, had returned to being horrible.
Niya needed to get up and look around, find a way out, but she was exhausted. Thirsty and yet, unfairly, needed to relieve herself. Her escape could wait a few grain falls.
Rubbing her wrists, the skin raw and angry where the rope had dug in, she took in the state of herself. Her fine green day dress was stained and torn, and she lifted her right foot, wiggling her exposed toes. Just great. She was missing a slipper. And they were her favorite pair. Niya pushed away a clump of her red hair, which lay loose and matted down her back. She was an absolute mess. And this, more than being attacked, drugged, and dragged to the lost gods knew where, really upset her.
She was never a mess.
“I fear my crew was rather rough in bringing you here.” A deep voice floated from behind her. “But what do you expect when you put up such a fight in coming?”
Niya’s skin ran as hot as the lantern flame before her, her heart kicking into a faster rhythm.
No, she thought. Please, nonononono.
Glancing over her shoulder, her entire body a tense coil, Niya found glowing turquoise eyes peering out of a black-shrouded form. His face was all sharp angles in the dim light: brown skin, full lips, and inky hair that was tied back at the base of his neck. It was a face that could tempt many and had, much to their deep regret, and one he never covered up when entering the Thief Kingdom. Not all had the courage for such open bravado. Even the Mousai, some of the most feared creatures in the kingdom, made sure to be masked, for their true hair color never to escape a headdress, for the shade of their skin to be hidden. No one but their closest brethren were allowed to know of their more respectable lives in Jabari. And even those trusted few were bound silent by a spell, on pain of losing their tongues in consequence.
This man, however, wanted his face known, wanted to be remembered for his sins. He had told her so, years ago, which should have been her first warning.
But Niya was never good with warnings.
Alōs Ezra, the infamous pirate lord, sat tucked into a corner, his shoulders so wide they hid his chair’s back. Niya forced her attention away from the deep V of his tunic, which displayed his strong, smooth chest. Her mind was a cruel beast as it brought forth memories of her fingers grazing that very skin. Quickly, she blinked the visions away, jaw clenching.
In contrast to her stiffness, the pirate was an image of repose, his hands casually interlocked over his stomach, a jeweled pinkie ring sparkling in the lantern’s light. Niya’s gaze roamed all the way down to his crossed ankles, covered in sea-weathered boots, and that was where her attention remained—on the soles of his shoes.
For it was the only type of soul this man had.
Alōs was no friend of hers or anyone’s.
Her magic wrestled against her skin to be freed, to do what it always wanted to do when this man was near. Buuuuuuurrrrn, it screamed. Kiiiiiiiiiiiill.
The history that hung between them was the one secret Niya had kept from her family. It was her burden, the one she had been carrying for the past four years.
“There’s a heavy purse attached to your whereabouts,” said Niya, ignoring the demands of her gifts along with the protesting groan of her sore legs as she stood, ensuring her back was no longer to him. The pirate’s relaxed stance didn’t fool her. The most lethal of snakes often played dead.
“I would hope so.” Alōs leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m a priceless commodity.”
“One that wishes their death, it would seem. There were rumors of your crew docking in Jabari. But I couldn’t believe the Crying Queen would be so sloppy after hiding like cowards for all these months.”
“Cowards run,” clarified Alōs. “Others hide so they can plan.”
Niya laughed, cold and hard. “No amount of planning will save your neck, pirate. What the Thief King wants, the Thief King gets, and he seeks to make a trophy out of your head.”
“I’m afraid it would not keep well, detached from my body.”
“All the more reason to cut it off. I’m sure I am not the only one who would enjoy watching your looks wither and decay.”
“Are you calling me handsome?”
“I’m calling you a fool. I knew you to be smug, but not naive. No one is above the law in the Thief Kingdom. What were you thinking, stealing phorria from it?”
“If I didn’t know better, I would think that was concern in your voice.”
Niya ground her teeth as the pirate’s ice-shard energy enveloped her, his strong magic, tinged green, curling from his body with his smile.
“What?” Alōs cocked a brow. “No snarky reply? How you disappoint me.”
“Not a first, I imagine.”
“Nor a last, I can bet.”
“What am I doing here?”
“I have kidnapped you.”
Niya scoffed. “Have you now?”
“Would you like me to tie you back up so it appears more authentic?” His eyes shone, predatory.
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Just as I adore seeing you struggle.”
Niya narrowed her gaze, one hand sliding to her back, to her knives, but her fingers grasped air.
“No proper kidnapper would let you keep those,” explained Alōs.
“You’d be smart in returning them.”
“I’d argue that would make me rather stupid.”
“Stupider,” clarified Niya.
Alōs grinned. “I’ve missed your spark.”
“You know nothing of my sparks.”
“Oh, but we both know that I do. Just as I knew where to tell my crew to watch for a curvy redhead in Jabari. I must say, the Bassettes’ estate is quite lovely.”
Niya’s vision dripped crimson as her blood boiled. Guilt and outrage mixed potently with her magic. It was one thing to threaten her but another entirely to threaten her family.
While Niya might not have had her knives, she had other tools that could do far worse damage.
Yes, her magic crooned, satisfied. Let us free.
When she fluttered her fingers at her sides, flames erupted on each of her fingertips. There was no point concealing her gifts from this man.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “We’re on a ship. With cannon powder. You set fire freely ablaze in here, and the whole place will go up.”