Well, we try not to draw attention from the originals for a reason.
The rest of us who make up the fleet of ships that sail under crimson banners are mortal enough. Even the Council, who squat back in Lyari, ruling Threshold in the originals’ absence, tend to be only slightly more long-lived.
Not that I’m about to give this stranger a history lesson on my people. “You have a choice. Join the C?n Annwn or be given back to the sea.”
“Wow, that’s an interesting choice, very original and not at all overdone.” She rolls her eyes.
It strikes me that she’s not at all afraid of me. I blink. I don’t know what to do with that. Even the people in Threshold, the ones it is our entire purpose to protect, are wary of us. It’s a careful balance of respect, and I do my best to ensure I never abuse my power, but this witch doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know anything about me. “It’s the only choice you have,” I snap.
“Cute.” She turns and looks around once more before facing me again. “But I’m abstaining from making any choices. The lizard man tried to stab me in the heart before he knew I was awake, so forgive me if I don’t want to join your little murder club.”
“But you’ll steal from us.” I hold out a hand. “Give it back.”
“Oh, this little thing?” She holds up the flask as if she’s never seen it before. “It’s mine. Old family heirloom.”
“Why, you—” I bring myself up before I reach for her. “What’s your name?” I demand.
“Evelyn.” She flips the flask up and catches it deftly. “There’s one all-encompassing rule of the universe, dear Captain. I’m surprised you don’t know it.”
Even as I know I’ll regret asking, I sigh. “What’s the rule?”
“Finders keepers.” She grins. “This is mine. I won’t give it back, no matter how much you snap and snarl at me. Really, you’re taking the hound thing too literally. It’s embarrassing.”
That’s about enough of that. She’s obviously going to be difficult, and while that shouldn’t be a death sentence, I can’t let her undermine me in front of my crew. Not when Miles has spent months chipping away at the crew’s opinion of me. Letting this witch talk circles around me will just give him more ammunition.
Like all ships of the C?n Annwn, we elect our captains by a vote. My authority exists only as long as my crew has faith in me, and their faith is already precarious at best.
If I lose the captaincy, Miles will take the vote. The first thing he’ll do is stab that spear right through her heart.
I draw my power to me, as easy as breathing, and wrap her up in it. Evelyn squeaks, but I gag her before she can keep running her mouth, sealing her jaw shut. Her eyes go wide and then narrow, promising retribution.
I grip her waist and try very hard not to notice how enticingly soft she is. I lift her easily off the deck and toss her over my shoulder. Several of the crewman laugh when she makes an indignant noise, but Miles watches with narrowed eyes.
Let him watch. I haven’t given him anything to work with. I hope.
Evelyn’s not taking this seriously, but people often don’t when they mistakenly go through a portal and end up somewhere they’re not supposed to be. Not until it’s too late. The laws are the laws. I can’t bend them without risking myself and my crew.
Not even for a cute, mouthy little witch.
CHAPTER 4
Evelyn
THE AUDACITY OF THIS MOTHERFUCKER!
I fight against the invisible hold around me as the captain walks across the deck. Telekinetics are rare, and it’s good that they are because they’re a gigantic pain in the ass. If I could get to my spells on my chest, I should be able to break his hold, but he’s got my arms pinned to my sides.
He’s also got me over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and I will absolutely not be even a little affected by the fact that he doesn’t seem to register my weight at all. Why should he? He’s the size of a house. He’s got to be at least six-five, with shoulders that block out the sky and skin tanned by spending so much time in the sun. Even upside down, I can tell that his crimson cloak fans out dramatically when he walks, like some kind of lone wolf character in a movie.
He might be handsome, too, in an earthy kind of way.
I haven’t noticed, though.
There’s no getting out of his hold for now, so I turn my attention to the ship and crew. At first glance, it looked like a pirate ship from a movie, but it’s not quite the same. The whole space is saturated with magic, and it’s apparent in the way some of the bits and pieces are moving without any crew doing the moving. The big crimson sail overhead unfurls and the ship jerks a little as we catch the wind.
The other thing that’s different is that everyone appears recently bathed. In fact, the ship smells … kind of nice. Like pine and lemon with the faintest whiff of mint. It smells a bit like the protection spell Bunny put into her cleaning spells. Makes me think of Sundays being hauled out of bed and put to work. I always bitched, but now nostalgia hits me so hard that I have to blink rapidly against the burning in my eyes.
Bunny isn’t here, and I’m in danger.
I close my eyes and try to focus. The captain is moving rather smoothly, almost like he doesn’t want to jostle my stomach on his shoulder, but that must be a coincidence. The guy just gave me the option of joining his merry band of murderers … or drowning. After that trip through the portal, I am not going out by drowning. No, thank you.
I’m in Threshold.
I still haven’t processed that. I might have poked the captain about the C?n Annwn being myth—everyone knows both they and the Wild Hunt actually existed and still ride in the dark of certain nights—but I honestly thought Threshold wasn’t real.
Once upon a time, the realms used to be much closer to one another. People and creatures could jump them easily, which is where a lot of stories of myths and monsters come from. No one knows what happened to make crossing all but impossible, only that it was a very long time ago. So many generations have passed that people have stopped wondering.
But … Threshold? A realm that’s still connected to every other realm in existence? The possibilities make my palms itch.
The captain shoves open a door and the light dims as we leave the deck. I honestly don’t know what I expected. Nothing about this ship matches expectations for … pirates? I’m not sure if this crew even qualifies as pirates as I recognize them.
Cool air brushes my bare skin and wet clothes and makes me shiver. The captain sets me on my feet and I waste no time looking around. There’s a large desk near a trio of massive windows that look out over the water and the wake of the ship’s passing. Polished wood floors. A door on either side of the room.