She slumped, defeated, as she watched her sisters shake the pirate’s hand.
The rest of the trade went quickly. Achak captured a prick of blood from Alōs’s finger with the Secret Sealer, binding him silent regarding their secret lest he find himself without a tongue, before dropping the pardon in his palm. The glowing golden cube spun warmth along Alōs’s brown skin as he held it up, eyes gleaming with triumph. Niya felt queasy. Next Alōs gave her sisters a list of where his memory stones were hidden to be destroyed, signing the parchment with a truth oath.
It was done.
Just like that.
As Alōs approached her to remove her gag and binds, he and Niya locked eyes.
His turquoise depths held no hint of his feelings; only apathy swam in his dark heart.
In Niya’s, only hate.
“I will have my revenge,” she hissed once her muzzle was removed.
“Not for a while,” he replied, tone even.
Niya’s magic hit against her veins—we hate we hate we hate—but then her sisters were pulling her to them, and her mind was on an entirely different matter.
“I’m so sorry,” she heard herself say, her voice a raw mess, her heart and body a pool of pain. She was eternally sorry, for forcing them to make such a trade, for revealing their secrets, for her smell, for everything. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated again and again.
Larkyra shushed her, holding her tight. “All will be well. All is well.”
“No, you don’t under—”
“We can discuss this mess once we’re off the ship,” assured Larkyra, gently placing one of their robes around her shoulders.
The small act of kindness destroyed Niya further, especially when Alōs spoke from behind them.
“I’m afraid your sister will be staying.”
“Excuse me?” Larkyra turned, brows raised.
“Niya may no longer be my prisoner, but she won’t be leaving.”
“What are you playing at, Lord Ezra?” Arabessa stepped closer to Niya.
Alōs’s cool gaze found Niya’s once more. “Shall you tell them or shall I?”
She wanted to tell him a thousand things, all sharp and bloody and painful, but her throat had seized in her panic at the prospect of disappointing her sisters further. How have I messed this up so thoroughly?
“Tell us what?” asked Arabessa. “What is going on?”
Alōs pulled up his coat sleeve, revealing his wrist and the black-outlined band that sat against his brown skin, empty, a debt waiting to be repaid.
Her sisters glanced at the mark with confusion, and then . . .
“No.” Arabessa turned to Niya, voice a whisper. “No.”
Niya closed her eyes, forcing back the tears that sat hot and ready.
“Tell us this isn’t—” Arabessa snapped her mouth closed as Niya lifted her arm, displaying her chafed red wrist and the black mark of her binding bet—filled, a debt waiting to be paid.
“Niya,” breathed Arabessa. “What have you done now?”
CHAPTER TEN
What do you mean, you’re leaving without me?” Niya watched in horror as Arabessa pulled up her black hood, instructing Larkyra to do the same. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”
Niya had just finished explaining the reason for her binding bet, trying her best to ignore the penetrating eyes of the pirate lord, who stood watching by his desk. She refused to see Alōs’s smug expression. Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he won enough? Niya wished she could remove the blade at his hip and ram it clean through his chest. If she wouldn’t die in the process, of course.
Argh! This is maddening!
“We all heard what you said,” explained Arabessa. “Which is why we’re leaving.”
“With me,” Niya clarified, staying her sister’s hand as she went to put on her mask. “Listen, Ara, I know you are mad—okay, furious,” she quickly corrected, seeing her sister’s incensed gaze harden. “I mean, by the souls in the Fade, I’m furious at me. But please, don’t you see? I was trying to put a final stop to all this. I was trying to fix it.”
“Yes, and you appear to walk on quicksand,” she replied curtly. “Always getting more entrenched in the mess you’re trying to escape. A binding bet? How could you, Niya?”
“If you had found me sooner”—Niya’s voice shook with her sudden anger, her desperation—“I wouldn’t be in this mess at all!”
Arabessa’s brows nearly rose to her hairline. “I fail to see how any of this is our fault. Did we not just secure our identities after you revealed them?”
“You’re right; I’m sorry.” Niya’s cheeks burned. “I didn’t mean that. I am grateful. Of course I am. It’s just that . . . I didn’t know what to do. You must understand, since that night . . . the things I have done to try to fix this on my own. I never meant . . . that is . . . it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
“Niya,” said Larkyra gently. “How did it happen? How did he learn who we are? If he tortured you for the information, we’ll find our venge—”
“I did not lay a finger on her.” Alōs’s cool voice slipped through their conversation. “Not a painful one, anyway. She willingly showed herself to me—isn’t that right, my fire dancer?”
“I am not your anything,” Niya spat.
“Perhaps we should all take a seat and a deep breath,” suggested Achak, waving their hand to produce chairs.
Arabessa ignored them as she turned toward Niya with a frown. “What is he talking about?”
“Yes,” Larkyra agreed. “What happened, Niya?”
Alone.
She stood alone.
“I was young,” began Niya.
“This will definitely be a long one,” muttered Achak as they settled into a chair.
No one else moved.
“And stupid,” continued Niya, wanting more than anything not to discuss this with Alōs in the room. “But the mistake hasn’t and won’t be made again. The details are not important.”
“Young?” Arabessa turned to the pirate. “How long have you known our secret, Lord Ezra?”
“Did I not just say the details don’t matter?” Niya cut in.
“They matter very much,” countered Arabessa. “You put all of our lives at risk.”
“Please,” Niya pleaded, her magic swirling chaotically with her desperation. “Let us go home. I can explain it all after a bath, or twelve, and then you can decide my punishment.”
“Dear,” said Larkyra gently. “We all know it is the king who will decide that.”
“Yes.” Arabessa fixed her gaze on Niya. “He shall. In the meantime, it seems our sister has stumbled into her own punishment. She will remain here to pay out her debt to Lord Ezra.”
“I shall not!”
“You have no choice. Do you not understand how a binding bet works? Your every move is traceable. It’s to ensure you won’t skip out on payment. The bet’s winner can locate the loser wherever, whenever.”
“Yes, of course I know this, but—”
“And no magic can break it.” Arabessa charged on. “Not even creatures as powerful as Achak. Hence why it’s called a binding bet.”
Niya floundered, a new panic seizing her. “That can’t be true.”
“Afraid so, my child,” said Achak, now in the brother’s form, where he reclined in their chair, eyes sympathetic. “As hard as it is to hear, your sister speaks true. About the binding bet and you remaining here. The Thief King will never allow you back into the kingdom as part of the Mousai with such a chain. Wherever you go in Aadilor, Alōs can know. Any secret place you hold dear in Jabari can and will be tracked. You’re a walking liability until your debt is paid.”
Niya clenched her jaw. “But . . . but I can’t stay here for a year!” said Niya, imploring her sisters, Achak, anyone.
“Do you have any broken bones?” asked Arabessa.
“Uh, no.”
“Have you caught some sickness or disease you’d presently need a healer for?”
“I don’t think so . . .”
“Are you scared for your life aboard this ship?”
Niya considered this. “Not exactly, but I—”
“Then I see no reason why you would need to first leave.”
“How about a bath,” Niya bit out.