“Sir, that is not how it happened.”
“No? Is that nasty bump on your head how it happened, then?”
“It is part of it,” said Kintra through grinding teeth. “Yes.”
“Well, why don’t you tell me all about it after we set sail?”
“Set sail?” asked Boman. “Does that mean you found what yous was looking for, Cap’n?”
“Aye, which means we must prepare the ship for Esrom.” He strode through the group, which parted easily as he made his way toward his captain’s quarters. He needed to wash his face and change his clothes and pour himself a drink. No, an entire bottle.
“Sir.” Boman placed a hand on Alōs’s arm, momentarily stopping him.
He glanced down to it in surprise—his crew never touched him—before meeting his helmsman’s gaze.
“I’m glad to hear you got what yous was after,” he said, the earnestness in the old man’s voice settling uncomfortably in Alōs’s chest.
He still wasn’t sure how to feel about his pirates showing him empathy. It seemed a contradiction to, well, them being pirates.
Thankfully Boman turned from Alōs, freeing him from a need to respond.
Kintra came to his side next. “Are we waiting for Niya before we set sail?” she asked. “And what of these three?” She nodded to the Mousai, who stood poised, watching the scurrying crew with curious gazes. None of his pirates dared to get too near. The trio were like carved statues meant to scare away pigeons. And Niya, hidden in the middle.
Alōs drank in her shorter form. And as though she felt his gaze, from beneath her gold mask, blue eyes collided with his.
It was like coming home.
She had come back for him. Had called her sisters to help. Something sharp and hot cut open his heart at the thought. Did he dare hope this meant she now trusted him? Cared for him? As he cared for her. Every muscle in his body was coiled to remain in control, when all he wished to do was pull her into his sleeping quarters and find out. Interrogate her with his mouth and caresses until she was so drunk on her desire for him that she’d be helpless but to answer truthfully.
As it was, however, he could do none of those things.
So he shook the desire from his mind, turning back to Kintra.
“Portal doors are useful for making trades,” he explained. “I have a feeling Niya will be returned once they are.”
“It was generous of the king to extend such help after everything.” Kintra held his stare. “He will expect the action to be reciprocated.”
“Yes,” agreed Alōs. “I suspect he will have many tasks for me once all this is done.”
“And it will be done?” she asked. “The final piece . . . Niya showed me—”
He nodded. “It will be done.”
An ever-present tension in Kintra’s shoulders appeared to ease then. A well of emotion filling her amber eyes.
They had been on this journey together for a very long while.
And yet, Alōs realized, he still felt no relief with the promise of its end. For it meant the finishing of another.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The portal door glowed bright, an image of a captain’s quarters on the other side, as Niya stood beyond its light in the Thief Kingdom. The dark city twinkled temptingly below her and her sisters, gathered on a ledge rimming the caved world. Cool air collected in her lungs as she took in her first breath of relief.
“I truly cannot thank you enough,” said Niya as she handed Larkyra her Mousai disguise of black robe and mask. Underneath she had kept on her pirate uniform, which remained worn and dirt stained from her time on Hallowed Island. She knew she smelled but had now grown used to such characteristics of living aboard a ship among scoundrels. No longer did it bother her. Much.
“There will come a time when you can repay us, I’m sure.” Larkyra smiled, tucking Niya’s disguise under her arm.
“For now, though,” began Arabessa, who stood beside Larkyra, her gold mask still on, “take care of the rest of your journey swiftly and safely. You are almost done, sister.” She stepped up to clasp Niya’s hands. “We hope to see you back in Jabari soon.”
Niya nodded, the thought of returning home now an abstract desire. The acute ache that usually accompanied the thought no longer as great. But she forced away what that possibly meant as she said, “I will be back as soon as I am able. And tell Charlotte she better have a basket full of sugar rolls waiting for me when I return.”
Arabessa huffed a laugh. “I’m sure she and Cook will have all of your favorites piled high in the kitchen.”
“Good. It will take a proper month to rid my body of the slop I’ve had to endure on that pirate ship.”
“I’ll be staying in Jabari until you return as well,” said Larkyra. “I would not be a proper sister if I wasn’t there for your welcome party.”
Niya’s chest tightened, tears threatening to break free once more. She was becoming a right emotional mess these days. “Thank you,” she said, hugging each of her sisters.
“One last thing,” said Arabessa as they stepped back, glancing to the awaiting portal door. “Regarding your pirate.”
“He’s not my anything,” corrected Niya pointedly.
“Don’t be daft. You both are keen on one another, and it wouldn’t take a senseer to know that,” explained Arabessa. “Just be careful there, okay? Before you fall too deep, it might be best to know his intentions when all this is said and done, and what you are willing to give up to meet them. Our lives in Jabari are flexible, but remember, our duties here are not.”
The sharp grip to her heart again. “Yes, I know.”
“He is different than Larkyra’s husband. He’s settled in one place, whereas a life of a pirate—”
“By the lost gods, Arabessa,” breathed Niya in horror. “I’m not going to marry anyone. Now I must go, before you insult me further.”
“I just—”
“Nope!” Niya covered her ears as she backed toward the portal. “You’ve officially ruined this farewell. I will look forward to you making it up to me later. Now, goodbye!”
She turned, slipping from the Thief Kingdom and back into the warm cabin aboard the Crying Queen. Scooping up the portal token, she slammed the portal door shut behind her.
Two sets of eyes and the muffled sound of lapping waves greeted her.
“Welcome back,” said Alōs from where he sat behind his desk, amber glass in hand. Through his windowpanes rested a dark sea, the moon only a crescent of light.
Kintra was in one of two chairs across from him, ankle on knee, sharing a similar drink.
She eyed Niya suspiciously as she drew near.
“Come, sit with us.” Alōs poured Niya a glass from the bottle on his desk, sliding it toward her.
She took it, slipping into a chair.
Alōs was freshly washed, his inky hair sweeping his shoulders, pristine black shirt rolled up at the sleeves and hugging his broad chest.
The blank line of their binding bet was now reduced to a mere square on the top of his wrist. Niya forced herself not to look at her own, to see the last mark that bound her to this man.
Free.
Soon she would be free.
The word no longer seemed to hold its sweet allure.
“We are having a celebratory drink,” said Alōs. “Also one of clemency, for it appears there might be some . . . retained hostility between you two.”
Niya raised her brows, looking at Kintra. “If there is anger in the air, it is not coming from me.”
“You used your magic on me, again,” said the quartermaster, fire in her brown eyes.
“Yes, because you were trying to skewer me with your knife. I told you the truth about trying to help Alōs. It is not my fault you wished to not believe me. If anything, it is I who should be angry with you.”
The quartermaster snorted her incredulity before tipping back the rest of her drink and slamming it onto Alōs’s desk. She stood. “I find this useless, Captain. Can we just agree that she and I will not be chumming it up anytime soon? Plus, she’ll be leaving. There is no point in it.”
There is no point in it.
The words hit up against Niya, tangling with her own uncertainties regarding her and Alōs.