She knew she would have to face Alōs eventually, and it appeared eventually was now.
Squaring her shoulders, Niya followed his trail of green energy, which eventually disappeared into a storage room.
She waited by the threshold, peering over the piled boxes that rested inside. The space was full of shadows, save for a sliver of daylight that crept in through a high-cut window.
Though she couldn’t see him, Alōs was most certainly there. Somewhere.
Come play, his energy seemed to whisper. If you dare.
With her guard in tow, Niya walked in.
Alōs appeared from a darkened corner at the far end like black smoke. His coat swayed by his feet, ebony hair loosely pulled back to make way for the severe angles of his face. His glowing blue eyes were reduced to slits as he took her in. He did not seem surprised to see her outside her cell but rather was thrumming with the same rage as earlier. Alōs stopped at the edge of where the sun ran along the floor, his dark boots toeing the light.
With barely a flick of his hand, the door behind her closed, his magic a cold gust blowing her hair back.
“New pet of yours?” Alōs nodded to Niya’s spelled guard.
“If he behaves.”
Alōs’s response was perhaps more dangerous than his glare. He grinned.
“I wondered how long that cell would contain you,” he said, the air tensing between them as he began to circle her in the small space. He was a coiled snake looking for the right time to strike.
“How did you know I would pass here?” asked Niya, remaining still, the guard standing close by her back.
“It’s the only way out,” he explained. “Plus,” he added, bending to whisper in her ear, “you and I know that I can always find the places you roam, fire dancer.”
Niya’s skin was dusted with bumps as she felt his hot breath along her neck.
“Then why didn’t you know I had followed you from the ship?” she challenged.
“I didn’t think you were foolish enough to try for me to check. You were ordered to stay on board.”
“And you’re used to everyone following your orders?” She tracked his every step as he came to stop in front of her.
“You know, I kept the skull of the last of my crew who disobeyed in Esrom,” said Alōs, head tilting. “I wonder what I’ll do with yours?”
“From what I hear, it is not only your crew with rules to follow when in Esrom.”
A flash of something sharp passed through Alōs’s gaze. “Careful, fire dancer. You do not want to upset me further, or I won’t be responsible for what I do next.”
Niya folded her arms over her chest, feigning disinterest, all while her heart beat in anticipation of a fight. “What amusing bedtime stories you must weave for yourself to think your threats would have any effect on me.”
“No story will be as amusing as the one I will tell of your death. There will be an encore, to be sure. Pirates of the Crying Queen are not keen on being spelled by one of their own.”
“How do you know I spelled them?”
“It’s the only reason they would allow you to disobey me.”
She lifted a brow. “And how do they deal with captains who lie to them? How many know of the prince who poses as a pirate? Or ex-prince, rather. Treason, was it?”
Alōs took a step closer, his energy like ice claws digging into her own as his presence consumed her. “You know nothing of my past.”
“I know enough.”
“Enough to get you killed.”
“Not that I don’t find your continued threats entertaining, Prince”—Niya shoved her power against his, a red wave of heat hitting a wall of cool green—“but neither of us shall die this day.”
“Are you sure? Because you seem like you really want to enter the Fade.”
“We both know you cannot kill me while I hold this mark.”
“That does not mean I cannot get another to—”
“Wha—? Where am I?”
The guard’s voice sounded at Niya’s back, and she turned to find her spell on him had unhooked when she had momentarily redirected her magic to Alōs. The young man blinked, confused, as he gazed about his surroundings. When he took in Alōs, his eyes widened. “You . . . you’re . . . by the lost go—”
He was cut off as Niya threw out a punch of her gifts to smack against his head. The guard fell to the ground, unconscious.
Niya turned back to Alōs, smugness in her features. “It is good to remember that I am more useful than most of your pirates, or did you forget how I helped you locate the other piece to your precious Prism Stone?”
He eyed her for a long moment, no doubt taking in what she now might know. “Yes, you are useful on those rare occasions when you follow orders,” he began slowly. “Which are few and far between. Your liability has grown tiresome, and tiresome creatures don’t stay long alive on my ship.”
His words echoed Saffi’s.
“You need my help, Alōs.”
His brows rose at that. “Your help has been mine to command this past month.”
“Yes, but as you have just pointed out, you may order me to complete a task, but the result will be very different if I do it willingly.”
A mocking grin grew. “Oh, I know all about your willing acts, fire dancer.”
Niya clenched her hands into fists, her magic hissing for her to move, to maim, to burn the man who could so quickly and easily ignite her rage. But that would have been the old Niya, the reactionary Niya, not the one who now waited, planned, thought. It took all her self-control to remain still.
“I am part of the Mousai,” said Niya, steering the conversation back to where she needed it to go, “part of the Thief King’s favorite executioners. There are advantages I hold in Aadilor that not even a nefarious pirate, or disgraced prince, has. Obtaining my willing help is tapping into all my resources and powers. My sisters’ included.”
Alōs remained silent, which Niya took as encouraging.
“You are right that I don’t know much of your past or your history with this Prism Stone, but I do know you need it. Esrom needs it. And I can help you get it quicker than any other soul aboard your ship. But while you may command me to do something, even our binding bet cannot force me to tell you all I know or use all of the magic at my disposal. That can change, however. I will give you my full, willing aid to find what you seek, so long as my debt to you is completed upon its safe return.”
Niya’s plan tumbled from her on the spot. It might have been decent, but she knew it wasn’t the strongest hand. She hoped Alōs’s desperation to help his brother and save his homeland would outweigh this fact—and would outweigh his current desire to have her killed.
Niya needed to remind him she was worth much more alive than as a skull on his desk.
Alōs studied her a long while, calculation apparent in his glowing eyes. “It might take longer than a year,” he said eventually, “which would make your sentence longer.”
Niya’s heart jumped in relief; this might actually work.
“We both know you do not have longer than a year.”
The Room of Wells is nearly dry. The High Surbs believe we have a year at most.
Ariōn’s words seemed to fill the silence.
“And if you fail at helping me in time?” asked Alōs, brows drawing together.
“As I remember hearing it, Esrom will then be exposed to all of Aadilor to pick over. Will you really care about anything at that point?”
“Yes.”
She weighed her options. “Then if I fail, I will serve a year more.”
“You want to make another binding bet?” he asked, disbelieving. “After everything?”
“My odds are all I have at this point.”
He watched her closely but did not respond.
“Do we have a deal?” she pushed.
“That depends,” said Alōs slowly. “While my crew knows of my old connection with this place—”
“They know you’re a prince?”
“They do not know what I seek,” he continued past her. “The lost gods know I’m facing enough obstacles in hunting down the other part to this stone. I do not need those aboard the Crying Queen getting any ideas regarding trying to take it for themselves.”