The woman quirked an amused grin. “Then you better change your mood quickly, for you’re on a pirate ship, girl, and there’s always unwanted company around.”
Do not singe off that insufferable smile, Niya told herself. Do not show her what happens to unwanted company when unwanted company sticks around. Do not. Do not. Do not.
Niya strode from the woman, stopping at the bow, where she grasped the railing.
The ship cut through the waves far below, churning sea-foam to splash up against her skin, cooling her temper.
“By the Obasi Sea,” growled Niya as she felt the woman approach. “You truly cannot take a hint!”
“Before I leave,” said her guide, ignoring her outburst, “Captain wanted me to let you know that if you’re hungry, some of the crew are always eating in the main galley.”
“Then it’s a good thing I am not,” lied Niya.
The pirate eyed her for a long moment. “I’m Kintra, by the way.” She extended a hand.
Niya did not shake it.
Kintra displayed her checkered grin again. “He’s right. You are stubborn.”
“He knows nothing of me.”
“He knows enough to give you this.” Kintra pulled a lumpy biscuit from her pocket and a capped pouch from around her neck. She placed both on the small ledge under the railing by Niya. “He’ll not have you starve,” explained Kintra. “Said there’s no value in the dead.”
Niya’s gaze narrowed. “How thoughtful.”
“He’s a chivalrous prince like that.” Kintra winked. “Enjoy.”
Niya resisted throwing the biscuit over the railing as Kintra strode away.
No value in the dead.
Niya scoffed. Well, that shows how little he knows of the Fade. There were plenty of treasures to be found in the land of the dead, priceless knowledge to be collected. One only needed to be willing to give up a year of their life for a visit. Like she was apparently willing to do for her secret to be safe.
Niya scrubbed a hand over her face, shoulders drooping.
There was that annoying ache in her throat again that threatened tears, but just like before, she forced it away. The last thing she needed was to start blubbering.
As she stared into the distant horizon, empty of land or vessel or any living soul, Niya’s thoughts tumbled.
She had been quietly trying for years to escape the tangled mess she had put her and her family into. The irony wasn’t lost on her that the very man who’d placed her in this predicament was now offering her a way out.
Running her thumb over the band on her wrist, she replayed the possible consequences of her actions, which had haunted her daily.
If their Bassette identities were linked to the Mousai, everything their father had built in Jabari would be ruined. The Bassettes’ position of power in the city would be lost. And worse—they’d be exiled, hunted, and not only by Jabari’s citizens for lying about having magic but by any they had ever threatened, maimed, or hurt in the Thief Kingdom as the Mousai.
That left a long list of potential threats.
They could find refuge in the Thief Kingdom, of course, abandon their Jabari lives and permanently take up their position as the Thief King’s deadly servants. But what would that mean for Larkyra and her husband, Darius? Newly married, with his lands just returned to him. The duke would be forced to abandon them or Larkyra. And Arabessa . . . her issues were of an entirely different nature.
No! Niya dug her nails into the railing. It will never come to that.
Killing Alōs was the only solution Niya had found, but he was a cunning and powerful pirate, used to surviving all manner of dances with death. Over the years, she had paid three assassins, and each of their heads had been delivered to her in gift boxes left in her dressing room within the palace.
“Bastard,” grumbled Niya.
Alōs’s life had proved harder to snatch away than others, which Niya resolved was a good thing in the end, if his warning of having their secret hidden in other places in Aadilor was true. Plus, now he had the binding bet to protect him from her lethal blow.
The only reprieve lay in the fact that Alōs had no knowledge of her father’s true connection to the Thief King. By the stars and sea, let him never learn of that! Alōs would have a whole other deck of playing cards then.
Niya shivered, her gaze fixing back on the open sea.
They seemed completely alone, lost, and forgotten where they sailed. Time moved strangely here, Niya realized, on the endless water, where only the sun above might tell how far they’d gone.
What would a year feel like here? wondered Niya. A year serving under Alōs Ezra. Having to obey every one of his commands.
Her magic hissed at her thoughts. Nevvvvvver.
Never, agreed Niya.
These might have been the highest stakes she had ever bet against, but for her family she would risk anything. And her sisters would find her, and all this would soon be over. The risk would be a reward in the end.
As the sun slipped higher in the sky, the heat beating against her skin, her stomach gave a pleading growl. Niya stared at the disfigured biscuit beside her. She really didn’t want to touch it, didn’t want to take any more this ship offered. Any more he offered.
Tricks, thought Niya.
Everything in this world, his world, held tricks.
But after another sand fall of standing under the harsh sun, Niya’s throat growing more and more parched, she took up the animal-hide pouch with a curse and gulped heartily.
The water was warm as it ran down her throat, but it was water, and Niya was at least thankful for that. She knew ale and whiskey were a ship’s main drink. Fresh water was hard to come by in this line of work and even harder to keep clean.
Niya grabbed the biscuit next, and though she loathed every small bite, her hunger pangs waned, and she ate it to the last crumb.
It wouldn’t do to be famished when my sisters come, she reasoned.
Today, thought Niya, turning her gaze to the thin line where sky kissed sea. They will come today. Today. Today. Today.
But the lost gods appeared to have a different plan. For the only thing that appeared when the sun traded places with the moon was Niya’s growing fear that perhaps, once again, she had made a horrible mistake.
CHAPTER SIX
Alōs would never go as far as to say he was happy, but for the first time in many months, he felt at ease. Standing before the large latticed glass windows that filled the back wall of his captain’s quarters, he idly played with the ring on his pinkie. Though the red stone that sat inside was small, he could feel the pulse of tucked-away magic it held. Just as he could sense his powers prickling in contentment along his skin at being surrounded by open water. He could think better at sea, hearing the waves, tasting the salty air with each intake of breath. Water was a gift. Water was his home.
“You have history with this girl,” said Kintra from behind, where he knew she sat, ankle propped up on knee, half-drunk glass of whiskey in hand.
“I have history with many people in Aadilor,” said Alōs, turning from the orange glow cast by the setting sun to refill his own drink.
“Yes, but this seems . . . personal.”
Alōs raised a brow in Kintra’s direction. “I would think any kidnapping and ransom seemed personal. It would be rather odd to snatch up a creature I had no idea about.”
“You elude my meaning for a reason.”
“If I elude anything, let it be the death sentence on my head.” Alōs slid into his chair behind his large wooden desk.
“On our heads,” clarified Kintra, who remained slouched in the seat across from him.
Alōs waved an unconcerned hand as he sipped his whiskey, the burn a comfort down his throat. “It is me the king will want on a spike if this does not go as planned.”
“And will it not go as planned?”
Alōs met Kintra’s attentive brown eyes, a smile curling on his lips. “It will go above and beyond planned.”