How? Why?
Both questions Niya had tormented herself with for years. How could she have allowed herself to be lured, seduced, her own powers used against her? For what? To feel wanted, that extra spark of reckless excitement?
Pathetic.
There was a flurry of movement as the shortest Mousai threw off their robe and removed their mask. Their form grew a great deal taller than any in the room. A man stood before them, wrapped in purple silk pants and an intricate pearl-studded choker that fanned out over his bare chest. His black skin shone like a moonless night against his thick beard, his violet eyes gleaming.
Achak—one of the most ancient beings this side of the Fade—was here. They were a creature whose history was woven into that of the Thief Kingdom. And just like Alōs, they never donned a disguise while there.
When everything feared you, there was nothing to fear.
“How clever you have proved yourself, Alōs,” said Achak, his voice starting deep before lilting into a higher register. In the next breath his figure rippled, arms and shoulders shrinking to become those of a woman. For Achak was in fact a brother and sister, two souls wrestling back and forth for space in one body. They shape-shifted from one to the other whenever one desired to speak, often dizzying present company. No one knew their exact origin, but thankfully they had been a friend and teacher to the Mousai since they’d first come into their gifts. Thankfully, because to be a foe of Achak meant one rarely lived long enough to attempt becoming friends. Achak was powerful, erratic, and, above all, the guardian to the entrance of the Fade.
“Clever.” The sister echoed her brother’s words, adjusting a silver band wrapping her forearm. “But still rather predictable.”
“Well,” began Alōs, “no one can be as unpredictable as you, my dear Achak. I’m glad to see the Thief King let you out of your floating cage.”
Achak grinned, white teeth flashing, and quickly changed back into her brother. “Child, don’t you know goading only works on the weak minded? Now tell us your demands so we can all be on our way. It smells of feces in here.”
“That’s probably her.” Alōs pointed to Niya.
Niya stared death toward the pirate, fury heating her heart.
“This is ridiculous,” said Larkyra, removing her mask next and pushing down her hood to reveal her delicate features. “The only demands are that we’ll be taking our sister before or after taking your life. You choose.”
Relief washed through Niya. Larkyra had called her sister, not dead-to-me sister or wretched creature or spineless mole.
Could it be that they would forgive her this treachery?
“Nice to finally see your beautiful face, Larkyra. And may I extend my congratulations on your recent nuptials.” Alōs played idly with the ring on his pinkie, still exuding control. “As for killing me, Niya had similar plans, but as Achak probably already knows and you ladies should learn, I have contingencies to all plans.”
“Very well.” Arabessa was the final one to remove her disguise. Her inky-black hair was twisted into a high bun, her angular beauty another severe mask as she stared down the pirate. “Tell us why we should still be listening to you.”
“If you kill me, the secret I know of the Bassettes’ connection with the Mousai is hidden around Aadilor waiting to be revealed. But I can destroy all knowledge for a trade.”
“You bluff.” Arabessa eyed the man.
“I could be. The question is, Can you live with the risk of finding out?”
Risks, bets, wagers. All of Niya’s vices playing out before her eyes, and her family had to pay the price.
If we get out of here, she thought, I swear by the lost gods I’ll never bet on anything again.
“What is your bargain, then?” asked Arabessa.
“I’ll sign over my silence, ensuring destruction of the memory stones that hold all I know of the Mousai, and will release your sister with no fight, if the Thief King removes his charges from me and my crew.”
“No!” groaned Niya against her gag, wrestling with the shackles pinning her arms back. “It’s a trick!” Alōs might destroy the memory stones and remove her chains, but she’d still be obligated to serve him for a year. Such a trade would not remove their binding bet. Her sisters had to understand this! They had to figure out another way to ensure her true freedom.
“That is a heavy trade,” said Arabessa, ignoring Niya’s struggles. “A favor to us from the Thief King as well as a pardon to you.”
“I have faith that he will see the importance of one to allow the other.”
“It seems your faith might be misplaced. The king does not take threats lightly, nor does he bend to any other’s will. You might find all four of us outcasts in the end or, more likely, new residents of the Fade.”
“Perhaps, but I’m willing to roll that die.”
“Do you really value your life so little?” challenged Arabessa.
“Quite the opposite. I merely have more to gain than lose at the moment.”
“Are you sure that’s true, Lord Ezra?” asked Achak, seeming to say a great deal more than what was spoken.
Niya took note of how Alōs’s gaze narrowed.
“Do we have a deal or not?” he asked.
The room hung suspended, a free fall from a high cliff, as her sisters both turned, looking at Niya. The weight of their stares slammed a new dagger into her heart. Larkyra was frowning, pain rimming her eyes, obviously wishing to do a thousand things. Arabessa, however, remained poised as ever; nothing in her features revealed how she truly felt seeing her younger sister tied and mangled on the floor. Niya didn’t know whose expression was worse.
“Achak,” said Arabessa, attention remaining locked on Niya, “do you have a Secret Sealer?”
“Always travel with one.” Achak pulled out a small, intricately carved silver cylinder from their trouser pocket.
“But what of the pardon?” asked Larkyra.
“As it turns out, the king gave me one of those before we left.”
A room of surprised eyes turned to Achak; even Alōs’s dark brows lifted.
“Children, need I remind you he’s the Thief King, of the Thief Kingdom?” explained Achak. “If he can’t predict the mind of swindlers and crooks, who can?” With a snap of their fingers, a small glowing amber cube appeared, hovering above the palm of Achak’s hand—a king’s pardon.
Niya watched Alōs’s hungry gaze devour the object. Something so small that meant so much.
“So we have a trade?” asked Larkyra.
“It appears we do,” said Alōs, grinning.
Wait! No! Niya thrashed further. She pulled and pulled and pulled against her chains, the wood floorboards creaking under the force. Her sisters only needed to glance at the mark around her wrist; then they would know, but there was a reason Alōs had bound her arms so tightly behind her back. The bastard!
“By the lost gods.” Larkyra moved toward Niya’s struggles. “This is insufferable.”
Alōs quickly stepped from behind his desk, blocking her way. “She will be all yours once it’s official.”
Larkyra’s eyes narrowed, assessing the imposing pirate.
By the lost gods, if only Niya had more energy so she could gather enough power to burn through the metal shackling her. Currently she could do no more than warm them up. She was so blasted tired. She needed sleep, food, and a dozen baths.
“Fine,” said Larkyra impatiently. “Let’s make this official, then. Niya handed over to us, along with your silence on our identities, all knowledge hidden destroyed, in return for you and your crew’s pardon in the Thief Kingdom.”
“And no killing this night,” added Alōs.
“And no killing by or of either party this night,” agreed Arabessa from behind them.
“Vexturi.” Alōs smiled, a snake’s smile, as he extended a hand.
“Vexturi,” said Larkyra, shaking it.
“Vexturi,” echoed Arabessa, stepping forward to do the same.
NO! Niya let out a last muffled scream. Noooooooo!