The Dark of the Moon (Chronicles of Lunos #1)

“He hasn’t taken a job in four years,” Marcus said. “He’d already quit his bloody business when you started after him.”

“The Justarch on Isle Parish doesn’t care that Bloody Bastian took time off. And neither,” Cat said dryly, “do the families of his victims.” Marcus said nothing; she waved a hand. “I was on Juskara, having just finished a tough job—my toughest up until then—and heard about a captain who carried an entirely mute crew. Odd thing, that, given how difficult it is to sail a ship without a proper relay of commands. My curiosity was piqued. Something that strange…it sends up red flags to someone in my business. Who would hire a mute crew? Someone with secrets. Obviously.” She winked at Niven. “My suspicions paid off.

“I followed you to Isle Kabak where my suspicions were confirmed. Then on to Uago. I almost had him there, playing the damsel in distress. He killed three of my men and I was brutally reminded of whom I was dealing with. I thought I’d learned my lesson. On Nanokar I set four men against him, two hidden to ambush. I set the trap so carefully and still…” She shook her head. “Bloody Bastian does not go down easily.”

Niven frowned. “So…your losing your tongue? Why…?”

“Because although I underestimated his capacity for violence—again—I was smart enough to have a back-up plan. The pretended rape was to get his blood up, to get him so enraged he’d make a mistake. Everyone knows Sebastian has little mercy for rapists.”

“His sister,” Marcus said sadly.

Cat shrugged. “That part was easy. But if my attempt to capture him went to shit—which it did—I damn well wasn’t going to lose him again. He’d never buy that a mute sailor girl just happened to be waiting around Isle Nanokar for a captain to come around and give her a bunk. A boar’s tongue worked for my purpose, though it tasted bloody awful.” She laughed sourly.

“Helm and Cook?” Marcus asked quietly.

Cat’s laughter died. “I had to create a need for me. I made sure you were stuck short-handed.”

“You killed them?” Niven asked.

The bounty-hunter’s eyes flared as she swiveled to him. “I lost three men on Uago to Vaas. Three good men. I lost four more on Nanokar. Pate and Sam, Ulren…” She shook her head, her jaw working. “Consider it payback.” She quickly mastered her emotions, all cool confidence again. “So that’s my story. I’m going to Calinda, I’m going to capture Sebastian Vaas, and I’m going to take him to the Stoneyard Prison on Isle Parish and collect my bounty.”

“Not on this ship,” Marcus vowed. “You’re outnumbered.” He glanced up at Ilior. “Both of you.”

Cat snorted. “You think me stupid? My men—what’s left of them—have been following us since Uago. When I learned Isle Saliz was the goal, I ordered them to meet me on Huerta. And after Calinda, that’s where we’ll go.”

“I say again, not on this ship,” Marcus said.

Cat raised a dark brow. The raven black color was seeping through the orange of her hair too. “Where else are we going to go? This ship needs repairs. Getting this far was a miracle. Huerta is the only option.” She squared her shoulders and put her hands on her hips to glare at Marcus. “He murdered your family. How can you defend him? Defend him, shit, how can you stand to be in his presence without opening his godsdamn throat?”

Niven shifted. “Cat…”

But the old man only smiled sadly and shrugged. “What else can I do? He’s my son, now. As close to as can be, I reckon. Does it matter if we share the same blood or not?”

Cat shook her head. “That’s sick. I should take the both of you to Parish. Let the Justarchs decide if aiding a known assassin instead of turning him in merits your own time at the Stoneyard.”

There was a silence that was long and deep, and Niven realized Ilior had stopped pacing, deep in thought. His stillness was almost worse.

“Too much talk,” the Vai’Ensai said finally, his voice low and grim and full of stones. “When we get to the island, I will kill him.”

“The bounty is double if he’s alive,” Cat said. “Let me take him. I’ll give you a cut if you help me subdue him. I admit I could use the help.”

Niven held up his hands. “Now wait. Let’s think this through. We have so many other obstacles to contend with…”

“I care not for any bounty,” Ilior told Cat. “He was there to kill her. I will kill him.”

“The Stoneyard Prison will kill him,” Cat said. “I promise you.”

“Listen to yourselves!” Marcus said. “You barter with a man’s life as if it were nothing. A pile of gold,” he said to Cat, “or vengeance,” he told Ilior. “Tell them, lad,” he said, turning to Niven. “Tell them about the Aluren, about forgiveness. About leading poor souls out of the darkness.”

Niven bit his lip, thinking of the Aluren catechism, the Fourth Principle in particular. But Sebastian Vaas? “He never hurt Selena,” he told Ilior. “He had hundreds of chances. Thousands. And he never took them. He made a blood oath with Svoz, to save her.”

“To steal the sirrak away from her, you mean,” Cat said. “Svoz protected her and Vaas took away that protection. How convenient.”

“That makes no sense!” Niven said. “He could have just let her drown!”

Cat shrugged. “Maybe he needed to get her closer to Calinda. To Accora.”

Marcus hung his head. The crew looked fearful, watching and waiting.

Niven was out of arguments. “But…Julian—”

Cat sighed irritably and turned her gaze to the horizon. “There is no Julian,” she said. “There never was. He’s Sebastian Vaas. That’s all we need to know.”

And what of Selena? What of the Bazira and Bacchus? Niven wanted to shout but realized it was useless. They don’t know the Bazira like I do, he thought, watching as Marcus Bailey and the crew slunk off the quarterdeck. They silently welcomed him back into their fold; years of companionship and the mutual desire to save their captain breeding forgiveness, Niven guessed. He was left on the quarterdeck with Ilior and Cat. Ilior nodded and Cat nodded back. They’d reached no accord save one: Sebastian would leave Calinda a prisoner or a corpse.

Niven turned away, to stare at the sea passing beneath the ship.

If Bacchus is as dangerous as Accora says, all of us will leave Calinda as prisoners or corpses. All of us.





Night fell and Cat ordered the anchor up.

“Slowly, now,” she commanded the crew, and readied them to sail. Short-handed, she commanded the men and helped to carry out those commands at the same time. Ori did not keep idle. She was no sailor, but her ability to navigate the ship while blind was uncanny. When Cat ordered the fore and mainsails to be unfurled and Ori, who’d remained belowdecks nearly the entire voyage, appeared and shimmied up the foremast to untie the sheets with quick efficiency.

The storm thickened overhead and obscured the moon now and then, but had yet to unleash itself over Isle Calinda. As they sailed closer, they saw the Bazira ships, like dark smudges, anchored close to shore.

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