Sebastian followed Selena out of her chambers in the keep, a knot of tension twisting in his gut. Her face was drawn and determined, her blue eyes were no longer the color of stunning waters around his atoll, but the cool steel of a warrior preparing for battle. But even before they saw the enemy they faced, he knew there would be no battle. Not the sort where you shoot and cut until you’re dead or your enemy is. No, Sebastian knew Selena wouldn’t let it come to that. His crew was down there. The native people who had opted to serve the old Bazira woman instead of gutting her and feeding her old bones to the sea scorpions, they were down there. Selena wouldn’t let any one of them be endangered if she could help it. The knot in his stomach twisted tighter as they slipped out into the walkway
The walk that led to sleeping chambers circled the main hall one story up; Sebastian and Selena kept out of the torchlight and peered cautiously over the rail to watch the standoff below. The feasting hall was overrun with rough-looking men—pirates, Sebastian thought—and Bazira, the latter in black and red, brandishing silver blades and spitting deadly shards of ice from their open palms. The latter were grubby, their clothing shabby, but their flintlocks looked oiled and new. Twenty men in all. Sebastian’s crew had taken cover behind overturned tables and benches, Grunt warding them with an outstretched arm to remain still. Three natives lay on the floor, their blood darkening the hay around them. A fourth was held in the arms of a weeping Yuk’ri woman. The dead man’s chest bore a pale patch of gray, and even from their vantage, Sebastian could see the man’s staring eyes were rimed with frost.
Sebastian scanned the Bazira for the red haired woman—Jude. Jude Gracus. The woman who knew his true name, who could destroy everything he’d built with Selena with a breath. There is power in knowing the true name of another, Svoz had told him once. Bloody Deeps, he was right.
But it was a man wearing a sleek black overtunic with blood-red edging who stepped forward. A curved sword was belted at his waist on one side, a small water flask on the other, and a flintlock strapped to his thigh. His pale hair was pulled mercilessly tight from his face and tied at the base of his skull. He scanned the room over a hawkish nose, strolling on his heels, hands clasped behind his back, as if he were a prospective buyer of the people who cowered before him.
“I want the Aluren Selena Koren,” he explained to the room that had grown still. Even the Yuk’ri’s woman’s sobs had quieted. “I want her now, and if you produce her without causing me trouble, we will leave the rest of you with your lives.”
Sebastian gripped Selena’s wrist. Wait, he mouthed, and jerked his head at the nearly two-dozen men who blocked the front entrance. He pulled his flintlock from the small of his back.
“I’ll shoot the Bazira bastard,” he breathed. “You light them up.”
“There are too many.”
“Don’t do it, Selena.”
“Do what?” She smiled sadly. “Make myself weak to be kind?”
Sebastian bit off a retort as below, Niven rose from a crouch to a half-crouch. “You are not welcome here,” he said, and cringed at the mocking laughter that greeted his words “N-Now go before…there’s trouble.”
The Bazira adherent with the pale hair looked past Niven. He raised a black-gloved hand and pointed to one of the crew.
“That one.”
Two other Bazira strode forward. They flipped a bench aside to get at Cat. She bared her teeth and loosed two throwing knives, one from each gloved hand. One thwacked harmless into the overturned wooden bench. The other buried itself to the hilt in one man’s thigh.
“Bloody bitch! Krystak!” Ice lanced from the man’s hand as Cat reached for her cutlass. It clattered to the ground and her glove came off with it. Cat clutched her hand to her chest with a grimace of pain.
Beside him, Selena gripped Sebastian’s arm in a vise. She wouldn’t wait much longer and if Cat died while they watched…Then I’ll be pricked. We need a bloody godsdamn diversion.
Spit crouched beside Cat. He spat and slashed with his blade, but the other Bazira knocked it aside and shoved the scrawny man over a fallen bench. He grabbed Cat by her shock of orange hair and dragged her forward.
“Gareth,” he said, bowing to the first Bazira. He thrust Cat forward.
Gareth nodded once, satisfied. “Hush now, love,” he murmured, as Cat struggled wordlessly in the other man’s arms. Gareth laid his open hand over her heart. Her face turned gray as ice crystals fanned out from under his fingers. Gareth turned his steely gaze to Niven. “Get your Paladin. Now.”
Above, Sebastian scanned the room for Ilior. The dragonman was nowhere to be seen. He hangs around like a rotten tooth until he’s actually needed…
Selena turned to him and kissed him fiercely. “Keep them safe.”
He could scarcely draw a breath and then she was gone, slipping out of his reach and hurrying down the stairs into the thick of the pirates. He wanted to scream a curse, or tackle her to the ground, but even in his panic he knew that keeping out of sight might be the only advantage they had.
If I lose her I am lost.
“I’m here.” Selena strode into the room below, her hands held out. “I am Paladin Koren. Let her go.”
“Are you now?” Sebastian heard Gareth say. “I expected a pious old marm who’s only ever been on her knees to pray, but you’re far more luscious. You will speak no word of magic or she dies.”
Cat struggled weakly against the man’s hand. The icy fan around it spread to her shoulders and she trembled violently.
Sebastian took stock of the men blocking the door. Twenty was too many, even on his best day; even if they didn’t have ice daggers as well as steel or flintlocks. But if he had a diversion…He silently cursed the old witch for stealing his sirrak and knelt to take careful aim with his pistol. “Touch her and you die,” he quietly promised the man named Gareth.
“Did Bacchus send you?” Selena demanded.
“Aye. You were never meant to make it this far,” Gareth said, scanning the assemblage curiously. “But our good Reverent is not afraid of you. To the contrary, he is hungry for you. Come along, now, sweeting and no else dies.”
Sebastian laid his finger on the trigger. There was still no sign of the bloody dragonman. “Svoz,” he whispered. “To me.” Nothing. He swallowed a vile curse.
“Let Cat go,” Selena said below.
“Of course.”
Gareth shoved Cat into Selena; if she’d planned to weave light, the chance was lost as she was forced to catch the smaller woman. Sebastian’s mouth went dry and fear coiled in his gut like a writhing snake as the pirates closed in around her. They bound her hands behind her and gagged her mouth with a rag. One of them stripped her of her sword and it vanished into their ranks.
Sebastian’s hands holding the flintlock trembled until he willed them still. He cocked the pin and then a strangled cry came from under the balcony where Sebastian could not see. Accora pushed her way forward.
“No!” she cried, flying toward Selena. “Not like this! Not like this!”
“The apostate.” Gareth nodded at his men. “Bacchus misses you, mother.”
Sebastian had never seen the old witch so undone. Accora closed both fists and opened them again, sending shards of ice into the pirates and Bazira in frantic bursts. It was the diversion he had needed before Selena was bound and gagged.
“Not like this! Not as a prisoner!” Accora shrieked, and bolts of ice flew from her palms, striking at least three in the chest, felling them instantly.
Gareth seemed unimpressed by the display and left Accora to his men. He moved unhurriedly to stand behind Selena and gave her a rough shove to get her walking.