This Alōs knew with his entire being, for he only made a move when he knew the calculated risk of the outcome, and betting against his precious secret of the Mousai was more than calculated—it was a sure win.
It wasn’t magic that had kept his ship hidden, for he knew magic was a fingerprint to any skilled tracker, especially one with as much power as the Thief King. No, this was something greater, made from Aadilor’s own splendor.
They were sailing in the Obasi Strait. A length of sea where the east and west currents crashed together, creating a blind spot for all location spells, portal doors, or other kinds of magic trying to penetrate in. It was rough to sail into, but once in the seam it was an easy ride, almost luxurious, for not even storms visited this stitch of air and water. No one knew the exact cause of the phenomenon, but any good pirate knew of the strait. It was the only real sanctuary for deplorable people like him and his crew. If you passed another vessel, you let them be, even if it held your greatest adversary. Honor wasn’t merely a law among the honorable. Though few, there did exist rules even the deadliest of pirates would not break. The sanctum of the Obasi Strait was one of them.
It was with this assurance that Alōs had lured Niya into his binding bet, for not even those who held all of Aadilor’s knowledge would be able to find them here within three days. It would be like searching for a particular grain in a sandglass.
“It’s a good thing I’m on your side”—Kintra shook her head with an amused grin—“for on anyone else, I’d find such cockiness a real pain in my arse.”
“Which would be surprising, for cocks are usually never allowed anywhere near you, let alone your arse.”
Kintra flipped him a crude gesture, which Alōs returned with a raised glass before taking another sip.
He usually never allowed his crew to act so boldly with him, but he and Kintra shared a different sort of relationship, a longer history than any on board. Even longer than his and Niya’s. Though Kintra was smart enough never to act so brazenly in front of his pirates. Behind closed doors, however, she was the closest thing Alōs had to a friend. That was, if he were the sort of soul who needed such companionship. Which he was not.
“I still do not know why you want her to become a crew member,” said Kintra. “I may not have the lost gods’ gifts, but even I know she’s powerful. Dangerously so.”
“Precisely. Think how much quicker we can get what we need with someone like her at our disposal.”
“Alōs.” Kintra cut him a dry look. “A secured binding bet will not make her a compliant lamb.”
“No, but it will make her forced to serve this ship.”
Kintra seemed unconvinced. “I do not trust her.”
“As none aboard should.”
“She hasn’t acted like the others we have kidnapped for ransom.”
“And how does she act?”
“Calmer.”
“And this is a bad thing?” challenged Alōs.
“It’s . . . unnerving.”
Alōs laughed. “Well, well, the formidable Kintra admits to being unnerved by a woman half her size.”
“She stands by the bow all day,” said Kintra, ignoring his jab. “Just stands there, looking at the horizon.”
Alōs did know this. He had watched her there this very morning.
Niya’s red hair had whipped about her shoulders as she’d leaned against the railing, peering out at the second day’s light.
Alōs had imagined the emotions tumbling through her mind then: anger, disappointment, confusion, despair. That precious pride of hers slipping away like her hope to be free, only herself to blame.
He did not feel bad for putting her in such a predicament. Everyone had choices and was responsible for their outcomes. Alōs knew that better than most.
His gaze landed on the ornate silver sandglass on his desk. It was beautifully crafted, with delicately carved leaves winding up each column, but he drew no pleasure from it. He had detested the object the very day it had been given to him. The grains always seemed to fall much too fast.
But it reflected his choices. Choices he would overcome no matter the cost.
No one survived in this world by remaining pure of heart. There was a reason the worst of the worst sat on thrones, controlled cities and men—because they were the ones willing to do what others could not stomach. Niya herself was no pure soul. He knew the fire dancer did what needed to be done to keep her position within the Thief Kingdom. Alōs had watched her and her sisters, the terrifying Mousai, commit their fair share of sins, and all in the name of their king.
So while Niya might hold spite for what Alōs had done to her those four years ago and was having her pay for now, it was a hard-taught lesson she would have learned eventually. If it hadn’t been he who betrayed her, it would certainly have been another. And another after that.
In this world you had to be deadlier than the deadliest one in the room.
So just like then, when Alōs had seen an opportunity to take more from Niya, he had. Why let go of a rare beast when you had just acquired her? Someone as powerful as Niya was a useful asset. Especially when he wasn’t nearly done finding all he sought.
Alōs felt over the red stone in his pinkie ring, a growing habit these days. Yes, he silently mused, having her talents in my arsenal would certainly speed things along. It had to.
His eyes narrowed on the silver sandglass once more.
Time was no longer a luxury.
“I’m not sure how the crew will take to her becoming one of us. Usually there’s a vote.”
Kintra’s words brought his mind back to where they sat in his quarters, the setting sun behind him painting the room in an orange tint.
“Once our bounties are dropped,” began Alōs, glancing toward her, “and the crew are welcomed back into the Thief Kingdom to return to their debauchery and folly, they should not care who sails aboard our ship for a year.”
“Fair point,” admitted Kintra.
“I’m nothing if not fair.”
“I’m sure those you’ve sent to the Fade would beg to differ.”
“Yes, I’m sure they would, given most begged quite a lot in their final moments.”
“Cowards,” scoffed Kintra before finishing her drink with a swig. Placing her empty glass on his desk, she stood. “Since all will go as planned, as you have assured, then tomorrow night we still sail out of the strait?”
“We still sail out of the strait,” confirmed Alōs. “And when the fourth light hits, be sure to bring our guest below deck. I have a feeling she’ll attempt to try better luck overboard.”
“Are you sure she’s worth all this trouble?”
“She’s the only way the Thief King might pardon us.”
Kintra watched him for a moment. “Who is this girl, Alōs?”
“Someone worth the trouble,” answered Alōs. “Now go; I have many important things to ponder.”
She gave him a mocking salute. “Aye, Captain.”
As Kintra strode from his quarters, Alōs turned to watch the setting sun slip below the water, ignoring the deafening hiss of grains falling behind him as he twisted his ring, around and around. The magic inside the stone stirred, awakening his own gifts. Hoooome, it purred.
Alōs ignored this too.
This ship was his home. Nowhere else.
Steepling his fingers, Alōs replayed Kintra’s last question.
Are you sure she’s worth all this trouble?
Yes, thought Alōs. Niya was proving to be worth more than he had originally bargained for. He dared to think what more he could gain with her so near.
Soon the light in his cabin dimmed to night, and a tingling sensation circled his wrist, but Alōs didn’t need to look down to know that the mark of his binding bet, in the end, would remain an outlined band—a debt to be collected.
Alōs grinned, feeling the future in his dark heart.
Victory was on the horizon.
CHAPTER SEVEN
His smile is deliciously sinful, thought Niya as the man approached.
But perhaps it was so because no mask covered his handsome face. Here, an act of bold recklessness. Both traits Niya enjoyed to a dangerous extent.