“I will return whatever discomfort I suffer tenfold,” ground out Niya, pulling against her binds, the shackles straining against her wrist.
“You should really work on not always putting up a fight,” said Alōs, leaning into his chair. “Your life would be much more enjoyable if you did. Take mine, for example. I get most of what I want with barely lifting a finger.”
“Then you won’t miss them when I cut them from your hand.”
Alōs arched one dark brow. “Despite appearances, they’ll be happy to see you’re much the same.”
“Who?”
“The Mousai, of course.” Alōs grinned. “They’ve arrived.”
Niya blinked, confused for a moment.
And then—
A BOOM shook the room, sending books tumbling from their shelves and the candelabras swaying. Niya steadied herself on her knees as a high-pitched note pulsed through the floorboards from above—more heavy objects hit the deck overhead.
By the Obasi Sea. Her magic erupted through her with her burst of adrenaline. My sisters, they are here!
Niya smiled, wide and sharp. “None of your crew will survive their wrath.”
“Kintra,” Alōs said to his quartermaster. “Let our guests know where we keep what they seek before there’s no longer a ship for them to search.”
Kintra quickly exited through the door she guarded.
“Burlz,” commanded Alōs. “I’m sure you’d like to do the honors.”
The large man held vengeance in his eyes as he removed a piece of cloth from his trouser pocket, stepping toward Niya.
“I’m sorry to have to do this,” Alōs explained, gaze holding no empathy, “but I can’t have you interrupting our negotiations.”
Niya tried shifting away from Burlz, but chained to a floor, she didn’t get far. The pirate tightly cinched the cloth into a gag between her lips, making her wince. “Just a preview of what I’ll be doing to ya later, sweetheart,” whispered Burlz, his oniony breath causing her eyes to water. With his threat, Niya’s magic wrestled along her skin, and she snapped forward with a muffled growl.
Burlz smiled as he retreated to the wall.
You’ll be the first sent to the Fade, thought Niya.
There were more shouts from above, a smashing of barrels, before all fell silent.
Only the hissing of grains through a silver sandglass on Alōs’s desk could be heard.
Niya’s gaze swung to the closed door.
Her heart was beating like stampeding beasts, and she attempted to settle herself, to calm the chaos of the past few days that kept her magic a tumbled mess in her veins. She needed her focus. She needed it so she could find the movements that belonged to them. Her sisters were here. Her sisters were finally here. And she homed in on that thought, that security.
Closing her eyes, Niya breathed deeply, settling the buzz vibrating through her. She could feel through walls better that way, sense what was beyond. Even as weak as she was, she managed a light search, pulling energy from the movement on deck to stretch out her magic. It crawled out from her skin like mist, rolled along the floor, and slipped under the door, hitting up against every object that moved and swayed—a net holding boxes, the heavy shuffling of feet—until . . .
There, the familiar spice of energy, the delicate movements of limbs, swishing robes. Energy she knew.
“Fascinating,” she heard Alōs say beside her, but she ignored him, ignored that he could see the orange and red trails of her magic flowing from her, searching his ship. Ignored whatever sort of power that might give him through understanding more of her abilities.
All Niya cared about were the footsteps getting closer, and then . . .
Niya’s eyes flew open as the door did. Kintra walked in, followed by figures wearing black hooded robes and expressionless gold masks. Two tall, one short. They swept into the middle of the room like smoke, taking up the entire space. Their magic was charged, pulsing, ancient, and catastrophic in that it was a grain’s fall away from being set loose. It hummed its rage.
Let us show you how we greet our enemies.
Niya had never seen the Mousai from this vantage point, given that she was usually in the shorter imposter’s place, but she delighted in how terrifying they seemed. Niya met the gazes of the two taller Mousai—Larkyra and Arabessa, her sisters.
Something in her chest lurched. How good it was to see them. How devastated she was for when they would find out what she had done.
As she watched her sisters’ eyes roam her extremely disheveled form, a darker intensity of their magic expanded around them like storm clouds rolling in.
The door to their chamber slammed shut, bolt locking with a click. The candelabras’ lights dimmed, shadows stretching unnaturally.
Oh yes, thought Niya. Her sisters were furious.
Good, hissed her magic.
Yes, agreed Niya. Here lies my revenge.
Alōs remained seated, hands folded over his chest in repose, as the Mousai swung their attention back to him.
“There was already a bounty on your head, Lord Ezra,” spoke the middle Mousai, whom Niya knew by her voice was Arabessa. “But kidnapping a favorite court guest of the Thief King does not bode well for any mercy he may have granted.”
“Mercy?” Alōs’s brows rose. “Is the king getting soft in his old age?”
A shriek flew from the other Mousai—Larkyra—and with a single note, she sent a standing candelabra crashing through a windowpane behind the pirate.
Alōs pushed back a lock of dark hair that had been blown into his face. “If you didn’t like the decor, I could have had those removed a different way.”
“Our orders are clear, pirate,” boomed Arabessa. “Retrieve this lady and bring you to the Thief King. If you don’t wish to come, we kill you here. Those are your options.”
“That is clear.” Alōs steepled his fingers as he leaned farther back. “But before you do either, could you answer me this? Was it easy to replace her so fast?” He peered directly at the shorter Mousai.
It was a nonsense question to any but those who knew, which made it perfect. Here was Alōs Ezra, the reptile who need not grow hands, for he got what he wanted without lifting a finger. A snake.
The Mousai remained silent, but Niya could feel the energy shift, the new tension in her two sisters’ shoulders. This was the moment when her foolishness cursed her family. I’m so sorry! she wanted to yell. I’m so sorry! All she managed was a moan through her gag.
Larkyra’s gaze momentarily flashed to her, questions lingering.
“I see I may have granted myself a third option?” queried Alōs. “Shall we have a private conversation?”
The door behind the Mousai unlocked and swung open—their answer.
Alōs glanced a silent command to Kintra and Burlz: Leave.
Dutifully they turned and strode from the room, closing the door again behind them.
Taking a sip from a goblet on his desk, Alōs waved a hand, sending a cool green veil of his magic to settle along the walls, coating the new hole in his window. “Now we may speak in confidence.”
“And what secrets do you wish to share that will have us spare your life?” the disguised Larkyra asked.
“My secrets are in fact your secrets. But a trade can make me forget them.”
“Speak plainly, Lord Ezra.”
“In so many words, I find it fascinating that there are three of you standing before me, when one of the Mousai kneels by my feet.” He gestured toward Niya beside his desk.
Her entire world cracked open. Unable to bring herself to look at her sisters, she concentrated on a spot on the floor. Coward, she thought, hating what might come next. What will they do? What will they say?
The silence was thick as Niya’s heart continued to break, over and over and over, waiting.
“That’s right.” Alōs finally spoke again. “Your beloved Niya exposed who the Mousai truly are, and I must say, it’s my great pleasure to finally officially meet the Bassettes.”
Betrayal betrayal betrayal. The word rang harsh in Niya’s ears as she felt the knife-sharp gazes of her sisters.
She winced where she knelt, still unable to look up despite how their magic smacked against her with their shock.