Song of the Current (Song of the Current #1)

“Markos.” I stared in horror. “I think part of your ear is missing.”

“Can we go back to a minute ago?” he rasped. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sit down.” I shoved him into a chair.

“I admit I was thinking about kissing you.” He sighed. “I’ve changed my mind.”

I fetched a bowl of water and the cleanest piece of cloth I could find. Dipping the rag in the bowl, I lifted it to his earlobe.

“Ow!” He flinched away.

“I haven’t even touched you yet. Stop being a baby.”

“I wish you wouldn’t touch me at all. Please don’t take offense, but I don’t really see you as the gentle, nursing kind of girl.”

“I can be if I want to be.” I swiped the rag down his neck more roughly than I meant to.

“Again, ouch. No, you can’t.” He gritted his teeth. “You’re the throwing-knives-and-shooting-pistols kind.”

I dipped the cloth in the water. Even in the dim light, his ear looked infected. He’d have to see a physician when we got to Iantiporos. As I cleaned the wounds on his face and neck, he dug his fingernails into his palms.

“Take off your shirt,” I ordered, half-afraid to see how badly he was hurt.

He smiled, tipping the chair back. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I admit I was thinking about it,” I said saucily, lifting my eyebrows. “But I’ve changed my mind.”

I reached across him to drop the rag into the bowl of bloody water. He put his hand over mine, trapping me.

We looked at each other.

Then Kenté dropped from the last rung of the ladder and said, “Caro, don’t move. The shadowman’s right behind you. With a pistol pointed at your head.”





CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

The lantern whisked out, as if a shadow had detached itself from the ceiling and fallen upon it.

Without my pistols, I was helpless. A shot whistled over my head, and I hit the deck. Above me a locker exploded in a storm of splinters. Markos swore.

The light flickered back to life.

“You continue to be nothing but an aggravation, Miss Bollard.” Cleandros stood a few feet away, the barrel of a long flintlock aimed straight at Kenté. “You aren’t strong enough to overcome me.”

She flung a broken locket to the floor. “Well, I’m going to keep trying.”

He turned the pistol on me.

Of course, Markos immediately dove out of the chair and threw himself between the shadowman and me. Because he was an idiot.

“Very chivalrous, my Lord,” Cleandros said. “You know you can’t stop me from killing her if I wish it.”

Markos glared at him. “I think you mean Your Excellency.” I suspected he was madder about being called the wrong title than getting shot at.

“I have half a mind to kill you too,” Cleandros said. “But I think I’ll take you to Valonikos for the reward after all, now that I don’t have to split it with Melanos and his imbecile crew.” He gestured to us all with the pistol. “Up on deck. Now.”

I saw no choice but to obey. “Where’d he come from?” I whispered to Kenté as we climbed the ladder.

“He must have snuck on board during the battle. Saw him slinking around the deck in a mantle of shadows, so I followed him.”

“Cease that chatter,” Cleandros ordered, stepping through the hatch. He bowed to our borrowed crew. “Weapons down, if you please! Keep sailing. Just don’t interfere.”

Nereus set his knife on the deck. Daria’s little hands trembled so hard that she dropped the rope ends she was holding, her eyes never leaving Markos. Nereus had been teaching her knots.

A pang of emotion hit me. She wasn’t afraid for herself, but for her brother.

Markos threw an agonized glance over his shoulder at her. His hand barely moved, but Cleandros saw anyway.

He dug the muzzle of the pistol into Markos’s back. “If you touch that sword, your sister dies while you watch. Remove the belt.”

“No.”

Cleandros pointed the pistol at Daria. “Come, child. Over by your brother.”

She obeyed, slipping her hand into Markos’s. Bruises and cuts standing out on his pale face, he dropped his sword belt in a heap with the other weapons.

The shadowman waved us toward the bow of the cutter, past the forward hatch and the barrels stacked there. Glancing at the purple-clouded sky, I realized with dismay the sun had slipped below the horizon. He would only continue to gain in power.

“Since you are ignorant,” Cleandros said, “I shall tell you about the children of the night. Some of us take strongly to the practice of lurking and hiding.” He nodded at Kenté. “Others use the darkness to draw out men’s deepest fears. But I have a great talent for the art of sleep and dreams. That’s why His Excellency the Emparch prized me above all men in his inner circle.”

As he spoke, my limbs grew slack. It would be so easy, I thought, to just give up.

“You may find yourself growing tired,” Cleandros said. “Your mind becomes dim. In this state, the Emparch found, a mind becomes suggestive. Easily influenced.” He smirked. “In a room with me, a whole council of men might find themselves agreeing with everything the Emparch said.”

I struggled not to yawn. Even Kenté’s eyelids fluttered.

Markos pinched his own arm. “My father trusted you. And you betrayed him.”

“Your father didn’t care for anyone who was beneath him. You of all people ought to know that. Not tired yet?”

Markos glared. Though he knew his father hadn’t loved him, I could tell it angered him that Cleandros knew it too.

“Now,” the shadowman said, “sit down on the deck.”

I swayed on my feet. His tone was so friendly and reasonable.

“Markos,” Kenté said. “Do not.”

He blinked. “Isn’t—that’s—I know him. We’re safe.” He touched a hand to his forehead in bewilderment.

“He killed your mother.” Kenté’s glance darted between Markos and the shadowman. “He betrayed your family.”

“I remember.” Sounding unconvinced, he yawned. “I do.”

It made me yawn too. I wondered why Kenté looked so overwrought. Myself, I felt quite at ease.

The shadowman waved a hand. “It won’t work, you know.” He gave Kenté an indulgent smile, like a parent amused by the antics of a small child. “Your power is but a flicker compared to mine.”

“Markos!” she tried again. “Your brother. Cleandros killed him. Remember? Your brother.”

“Loukas.” His head dipped. “I—I’m just going to sit for a moment.”

“No! You are going to stay standing.” The words tumbled frantically out of her mouth. I wished she would slow down. “And you are going to remember why you want to fight this man!”

Markos’s legs buckled under him, and he dropped to his knees. Distantly someone laughed.

I thought he had the right idea. “Got to rest,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. “Only for a minute.”

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