“Yes.” Larkyra wrinkled her nose. “She does rather need one of those.”
“Unnecessary,” interjected Alōs from where he had been watching the entire exchange, leaning against the edge of his desk, boredom in his features. “We may be scoundrels, but we can, at the very least, appear respectable. Now that you’re a part of my crew, you’ll most certainly be getting a washing. I am sorry to say those clothes we’ve already provided you were your only pair. But their current soiled state is your own doing, of course.”
“Argh!” Niya charged him, her magic bubbling to the surface along with her rage, but Arabessa snagged her arm, pulling her back.
“Stop this,” she demanded. “Have you learned nothing from your hot-tempered outbursts? You cannot always act on your every whim and feeling. Maybe then you will stop finding yourself in these situations.”
“Sound advice that I myself have tried explaining to her,” said Alōs, examining his nails.
Niya bit down her scathing reply, her body shaking with fury. He will suffer. He wiiiiiilll, promised her gifts. But then Niya met her older sister’s eyes and took in the disappointment that hung there. Her anger left her in a whoosh.
Despite her best efforts, Niya’s lip began to quiver, her eyes filling with tears.
Arabessa’s hold softened then, and she tugged Niya and Larkyra toward the other side of the room. Away from the pirate.
“Listen.” Arabessa spoke calmly but sternly, a mother to delinquent children. “We do not know how the Thief King will respond to being forced to make such a trade for us. You will be punished, no doubt. He may add a longer sentence for you or something worse—”
“Nothing could be worse than that.” Niya quickly wiped at her eyes.
“We also do not know what discipline Father will decide for you,” Arabessa continued. “What you revealed, Niya . . .”
“I know.” Niya balled her hands into fists. “By the lost gods, I know.”
Empathy finally entered Arabessa’s eyes. “Yes, it seems you do. So know this as well: We will ensure the current debt you must pay out to the pirate will be considered as part of your punishment. We will do our best to plead for whatever leniency can be offered, given the circumstances.”
For the first time since being dragged aboard, Niya felt a small slip of hope. Arabessa did still love her. Despite her outward anger, she cared, Larkyra cared, and that alone steadied Niya’s heart and mind. Yet still, Niya didn’t know how to respond to such kindness. A part of her felt forever unworthy of any sympathy her sisters might bestow on her, given what she had done. Her voice cracked with her emotion as she said, “Thank you.”
“Now tell us.” Arabessa laid a hand on her shoulder. “How long ago was the night that started all this?”
“Four years.”
“Four—!”
Arabessa held up a hand, cutting off Larkyra. “All right.” Arabessa spoke slowly, appearing to measure this new information. “And our masks, they are spelled to remain on unless we wish otherwise, so how did he . . . ?”
Niya’s reddening cheeks and silence seemed answer enough.
“I see,” said Arabessa. “Your dislike for the man makes sense now.”
“I hate him.”
“Understandably so, though it does not change your circumstances. Four years of this secret, Niya.” She shook her head. “I wish you would have told us.”
“I wanted to, but I was scared and ashamed and . . .”
“Brokenhearted?” murmured Larkyra.
“No,” she answered emphatically, almost too much so. “I couldn’t bear your disappointment. Nor the king’s or Father’s wrath. I was an idiot.”
“Yes.”
Niya winced, her sister’s words like a knife in her heart. But she did not contradict her. How could she?
“There is one last thing we must know,” said Arabessa. “And please, understand no anger or disappointment will come from us. That night . . . did he do anything to you that was untoward?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he force things upon you? For if he touched you wrongly in any way, we will leave this ship in splinters, binding bet be damned.”
“He did not,” she assured.
Arabessa nodded, a tightness loosening along her jaw.
Niya’s own shoulders slumped, the reality of what was about to take place hitting her hard. She was to remain here a year. A year. A ringing filled her ears as she took this in, took in the reasoning of her family. She had no choice but to stay.
Niya was going to be sick.
“How will I survive this?” she asked, desperation in her tone.
“You’ll survive it as we must all things,” said Arabessa. “One sunrise at a time.”
“If we’re quite done here,” interjected Alōs, pushing up to his full height and rounding his desk. “After your lovely entrance, I have a ship that needs to be righted and a new crew member that needs training. Such sentimental conversations can be saved for when your sister is returned.”
Niya glared at the pirate. He responded with an equally chilling stare. Gone were the cunning grin and playful charm of a host entertaining guests. Returned was the master of this ship, a man who had gotten exactly what he wanted. Alōs had no more time to play.
“We will ensure our letters find you,” said Larkyra, squeezing Niya’s hands. “And whenever you’re at port, please send word. We will find ways to see one another.”
Niya hardly heard her words as her skin chilled. “A year,” she whispered, unbelieving.
“Knowing you”—Arabessa pressed a strong hand to her shoulder—“you’ll be running this despicable lot in no time.”
Niya nodded, not knowing how to say this goodbye. Not wanting to. “Tell Father . . . tell him . . .”
“We will,” assured Arabessa. “He will know. And please.” She moved closer, lowering her voice. “Do keep your guard high here. This lot may blend in easily within the Thief Kingdom, but pirates have very different sets of rules at sea. And this captain . . .”
“What about him?”
“I sense he needs something important, something only being able to sail more freely with his bounty dropped could get him.”
Arabessa’s words sparked alive a small pulse of hope in Niya’s chest.
I sense he needs something important.
Niya’s mind suddenly filled with new schemes.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”
She might have been chained to this ship, but she could keep a watchful eye on the pirate captain while here. No one was without their secrets, and Alōs was bound to let one slip if she paid attention. Just as she was now bearing the consequences, knowing the right secret of another could allow many advantages in this world. Perhaps knowing the right one of Alōs’s could help Niya acquire her freedom before the year was up.
“Just be careful,” said Larkyra. “We won’t know as quickly if you’re in need of us saving you again when you’re out sailing in the middle of the Obasi Sea.”
Niya met her younger sister’s concerned eyes, the weight of what she and Arabessa had recently done for her hitting once more. “I am sorry,” she said. “I really am. And . . . thank you. Thank you for coming and . . . and . . .”
“Yes, well.” Arabessa interrupted her spluttering. “There will be many moments in our future where you can make it up to us.”
“Many, many moments,” added Larkyra, with her own hint of a smile.
“Be brave.” Arabessa took Niya into an embrace.
“But not too brave,” concluded Larkyra as she joined in.
The hug was quick, but Niya was grateful for every grain fall.
For when would they do it again?
“Shall we, my darlings?” asked Achak, their chair disappearing as they stood.
Niya’s sisters stepped back, leaving a painful void in her chest.
Pulling up her black hood, Arabessa turned to address Alōs, her features returning to their cool mask. “Fair warning, pirate—if anything happens to our sister while she’s in your care, you will have us to answer to. And you have my word, no matter what tricks you use to hide, we will find you, and your death will be neither quick nor painless.”
“Then I shall die as I have lived.”