“Vasry went out,” Lenos continued as Lila ambled toward the table. “Kobis went to bed.”
“And Alucard?” she asked, trying to keep her tone flat with disinterest. She took up Stross’s drink and downed it, ignoring the first mate’s muttered protests.
Stross threw down a card with a hooded figure holding two chalices. “Too late,” he said to her, keeping his eyes on the table and the cards. “Captain said he was retiring.”
“Awfully early,” mused Lila.
Tav chuckled and mumbled something, but she couldn’t decipher it. He was from somewhere at the edge of the empire, and the more he drank, the less intelligible his accent became. And since Lila’s default when she didn’t understand something was to keep her mouth shut, she simply walked away. After a few steps she stopped and turned back to Lenos, drawing the palm fire from her coat. The light was already fading, and she hadn’t thought to ask if there was a way to restore it, or if it was a one-time-use kind of charm, which seemed wasteful.
“Here,” she said, tossing Lenos the orb.
“What’s this for?” he asked, surprised.
“Keeps the shadows at bay,” she said, heading for the stairs. Lenos stood there, staring down at the orb, perplexed by either the sphere itself or the fact that the Sarows had just given him a gift.
Why had she given it to him?
Getting soft, grumbled a voice in her head. Not Kell’s, or Barron’s. No, this voice was all hers.
As Lila climbed the stairs, she produced a narrow bottle of wine she’d nicked, not from the inn or the market—she knew better than to steal from warded tents—but from Alucard’s own stash aboard the Spire.
The captain’s room sat across from hers, the doors facing like duelers. Which seemed fitting. But when she reached the doors, she paused between them, presented with the question of which she’d come for, and which she planned to open.
Lila hovered there in the hall.
She wasn’t sure why she was drawn to his room more than hers. Perhaps because she was restless, being back in this city for the first time, a place at once strange and familiar. Perhaps because she wanted to slip back into the comfort of English. Perhaps because she wanted to learn more about the tournament, and Alucard’s participation. Or perhaps out of simple habit. This was how they spent most nights at sea, after all, a bottle of wine and a magical fire, each trying to pry secrets from the other without giving up any of their own. Had Lila become so accustomed to the dance that she actually missed it?
Hang this, she thought. What a waste of life, to stand around and think so much on every little thing. What did it matter why she wanted to see the captain? She simply did.
And so, casting motive aside, she reached out to knock, only to stop when she heard footsteps from within, coming briskly toward the door.
Her thief’s sense twitched, and her body moved before her mind, boots silently retreating one stride, then two, before sliding smoothly behind the corner of the hallway’s nearest bend. She had no reason to hide, but she’d been doing it so long, the gesture came naturally. Besides, hiding was simply seeing without being seen, and that gave her the upper hand. Nothing to be lost by it, and often something to be gained.
An instant later, the door swung open and Alucard Emery stepped into the hall.
The first thing she noticed was his silence. The captain of the Night Spire normally made a certain amount of noise. His jewelry jangled and his weapons clanked, his steel-heeled boots announced every step, and even when his attire was quiet, Alucard himself usually hummed. Lila had mentioned it once, and he simply said he’d never been a fan of quiet. She’d thought him incapable of it, but as he made his way down the hall, his steps marked only by the gentle creak of the floorboards, she realized that, before, he’d always meant to be loud.
Another aspect of the role he was playing, now cast aside, replaced by … what?
He was fully dressed, but not in his usual clothes. Alucard had always favored fine, flashy things, but now he looked less like a pirate captain and more like an elegant shadow. He’d traded the blue coat he’d worn ashore for a charcoal half cloak, a simple silver scarf at his throat. He wore no obvious weapons and the sapphire was gone from his brow, along with all the rings from his fingers save one, the thick silver band shaped like a feather. His brassy brown hair was combed back beneath a black cap, and Lila’s first thought was that, pared down, he looked younger, almost boyish.
But where was he going? And why was he going in disguise?