Rounding a corner, they squeezed onto a footbridge that dangled over open water.
“As you just pointed out, I’m indeed your captain. I don’t need to tell you anything but my orders.”
“Your predictable responses grow tiresome,” she said just as she was forced to press closer to him as a cluster of citizens walking the other way passed. He could smell her honeysuckle fragrance, and he was none too pleased about it.
As soon as they crossed to the other side, he stepped away. “Then I suggest you cease trying to converse with me,” he countered.
Niya frowned before her gaze snagged on a few people who stared at them as they walked by. “You must come here often.”
“Why do you say that?”
“People seem to know to give you a wide berth. Like him.” She pointed to a round man in an ostentatious purple paisley suit who hid behind a bodyguard, his bug eyes peeking out from the larger man’s side. “And them.” She gestured to a group of men and women who shrank away as soon as his attention landed on them.
“They merely know who not to cross,” said Alōs as they entered the garment district, where brightly painted sails hung from masts rising high above the stacked ships.
“Mmm,” was Niya’s only reply.
“We’re here.” Alōs stopped in front of a storefront that was made from a bow. A welcoming yellow light streamed from the port windows. He gestured for Kintra and Niya to walk inside and stepped in behind them.
The air was warmer as he entered, thick with lilac incense. Every inch of the small shop was covered in drapery, fine silks, exotic tops, and hardly there bottoms.
“I agree you’re in need of a wardrobe change,” said Niya, fingering a fur hat on display. “But nothing here quite screams lunatic pirate captain.”
“That’s because all those items are in the back.”
A woman in a blue feathered dress stepped from behind a rack of clothes. A jeweled monocle sat over one of her eyes, highlighting their mismatching blue and green. Her blonde hair was pulled up with an assortment of pins that sparkled in the lantern light, and a woven orange wrap was draped around her shoulders. She gave off the impression that she made a game of dressing in the dark.
“Regina.” Alōs bent to kiss the woman’s round cheek. “Looking fresh as always.”
“If I had known to expect a visit from you, my wicked prince of the sea, I’d have worn my best frock.”
“All your frocks are the best.”
“What an incorrigible charmer you are.” She swatted him playfully. “But yes, this isn’t called Regina’s Regalia, the Finest Finds on the Southeast Seas, for nothing. Now what can I do you for, my lord?”
“We’re here for her.” He nodded to Niya, who was watching his and Regina’s exchange with curiosity.
“Me?”
“You’ll need an outfit for tonight,” he explained. “I’ve brought Kintra to help get you sorted while I make a few other stops.”
“An outfit for what?”
“You’ll be dancing.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” She plunked a fist on her hip.
“I’ll need it to be . . . persuasive.” He turned back to Regina. “She’ll be performing at Fate’s Fall.”
The shop owner gave him a secretive grin. “My specialty. Do not worry, my lord.” She eyed Niya’s form. “I have just the thing.”
“And I have just the thing to cut it up.” Niya’s hand slipped to her daggers.
“Kintra will make sure she behaves,” Alōs assured. “And will settle our payment.”
Before Niya could protest further, he turned and strode out of the shop, rejoining the crowds in the streets. He could have stayed to argue with her, but he preferred to have Kintra and Regina do it in his stead. He had enough to get in line for tonight—he didn’t need the added headache of extinguishing a fire dancer. And if he was perfectly honest, he did not think he was up to the task. Not again.
Alōs’s pinkie felt uncomfortably empty as he watched the small man in front of him examine his ring under a magnifying glass. The jeweler’s back room sat quiet, as Alōs had asked for private service as soon as he had entered. Two large oil lamps burned on either side of the man’s desk, casting an orange glow onto his delicate hands as he turned the ring this way and that. The red jewel in the center glowed like fresh blood.
“How extraordinary,” said the jeweler. “I have only ever seen a stone like this . . .” Round eyes, made rounder by his spectacles, peered up at Alōs. “We have met before, haven’t we?” he asked.
“It’s best for you if you remain uncertain,” said Alōs.
The jeweler’s throat bobbed. But he nodded, understanding.
“How long will it take to remove the stone from the ring?” asked Alōs.
“You can come back in—”
“I will stay here until it is done.”
“Yes, of course,” he corrected himself. “But you might be waiting for some time.”
Alōs placed a bag of coin on the table between them, the top loose to reveal a gleam of silver.
The jeweler licked his lips. “It will be ready in a half sand fall.”
“Perfect.” Standing, Alōs retrieved the pouch. “When it’s done,” he explained. “And I cannot stress enough that not even a grain can be chipped from this stone. It must remain exactly as when it was fitted inside the ring.”
“Yes,” said the man. “I remember from when we originally split it from the other—”
“Thank you,” Alōs said, cutting him off. “I appreciate your care in this matter.”
“Of course. Exactness is needed when it comes to precious items such as this.”
Yes, thought Alōs, especially when they are more precious than your life. Or mine.
Striding to the corner of the room, he leaned against the wall, watching the man work. He did not care if his presence made the jeweler nervous; he would need to deal with it and adjust. Alōs would not let that ring, or more specifically that stone, out of his sight. It had cost him dearly to reacquire, a trade in phorria that had left him hunted by the Thief King.
He only hoped obtaining the other piece would not be filled with similar consequences.
Which was why he was glad to have Niya’s talents this evening.
It had been many years since he had seen the woman whom he had sold these pieces to. It would only draw further suspicion for him to show up asking after them now. She’d no doubt wonder why he wanted them back after he had so quickly asked her to rid him of the stones.
Alōs needed his next moves to be discreet, untraceable, unquestioned.
Better to have another gain this information. Someone who had the power to spin minds into putty. A woman who had lured him in with her dance.
Tonight, Alōs would make her lure another.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Alōs sat playing a hand of Cutthroat in one of the opulent lounges within Fate’s Fall. His attention drifted over the other tables, filled with patrons in some of their finer clothes, pretty purchased pets perched on laps. This establishment’s eclectic and exotic entertainment alone brought in visitors to Barter Bay just as much as trades. It reeked of money and desperation and took up two entire ships, their hulls fused together, at the north end of the city.
Save for Macabris in the Thief Kingdom, Fate’s Fall might be the next best place to go for a high-stakes gamble, to indulge in illegal dining, or to fulfill fantasies.
Alōs caught sight of Saffi and Boman tucked in a far corner, taking turns at Fat Chance, a dice game where the odds were almost always against you, but the winnings were large. Saffi howled in excitement, gray braids swinging as she slapped Boman on the back.
They had secured all they needed for tonight—the private room, Niya’s place among the dancers—and so far the information they were going off was holding up. If the night continued to go well, Alōs would let the rest of his crew out for a bit of fun before they set sail again.
Pirates needed buffoonery as much as they needed blood.
Alōs turned to find Kintra’s tall form weaving through the tables toward him.