“So used to my lies now, are you? You can tell truth from fiction? What are you doing, Riden? What is your play? I’m sick of trying to figure you out. Just when I think I’ve got it, you do something else to irritate me. Who are you putting on a show for?”
“No time, Alosa. Get free and get out of here if you can. That’s the best I can do. The map for my brother, and freedom for you. Please. Again I’ll ask you, don’t kill him.”
“That’s a big gamble you’re taking, Riden. What happens if Draxen overpowers me? How will you feel about that?”
“Oh please. We both know you are hiding more than your intentions to get the map. You are skilled, Alosa. More skilled than any human girl could possibly be. No one man could get the better of you. I don’t know what you are. I just know you’ve somehow gotten into my head. And you managed to enchant the whole crew the other day. I’m still trying to figure out why you haven’t killed us all already.”
The door wrenches free, and Draxen strides in. “Leave us,” he commands. Swiftly and forcefully at the same time.
Riden obeys, then sends one more pleading look in my direction. Don’t kill him.
I’m still stuck on Riden’s words. Human girl. He knows. I know he remembers me singing him to sleep, but was it too much to hope he would explain it away as coincidental?
But then, why wouldn’t he tell Draxen? Or, well, why wouldn’t he warn Draxen? It probably shouldn’t matter. But it does. I don’t know how I feel about Riden knowing my secret. Or at least guessing part of it.
I’m still puzzling this all out when Draxen slams me against the wall in his room.
“I’m going to enjoy this. If you had gone along with everything last time, you would’ve had it good. But not now. Now I’m going to make you scream.”
“Actually, Draxen,” I say, struggling against his weight, “you’re really not.”
He laughs as he tries to force me toward his bed. “I’ve thought about doing this for a long time.”
“Me too.”
Draxen braces my back against the wall. His arms are at my shoulders. I manage to lift both legs, plant them on his stomach, and kick, using the wall to steady me. That sends him reeling backward several feet.
I land painfully on the ground. My mind quickly travels back in time to when Draxen questioned me in this room. Some of my blood is still dried onto this floor. Draxen hit me again and again, trying to get me to give him the location to my father’s hideaway.
I’ve always lived with the eye-for-an-eye mentality.
I send my right fist into the side of his face. I don’t have to hold back now, and I don’t. I put everything I have into it. I know I’ve hit sure and sound when I can feel the resulting stinging pain in my knuckles. After being cooped up and holding back for so long, this is bliss. A painful bliss.
Draxen grunts from the impact. He’s still unsure of what’s happening when I send a second strike with my left fist.
“How does that feel, Draxen?” I hiss. “Don’t worry—we’re not done yet.”
He growls as he tries to see me in front of him. He advances, trying to pummel me with his own fists. But a quick duck and two strikes later, I land him onto the floor.
He utters a few exhausted curses.
I’m still not done with him.
“You threatened to cut my hair. What manner of foul scum does that? How about if I cut off something you value, Draxen?”
He takes in a large gulp of air. Of course that threat would make him scream for help, but I can’t have that. One quick kick to the face and he’s out.
I get my knife out of my boot. What should I take from him? An ear? A finger? Something from down low?
I cringe at that thought. Too gross. Perhaps I should stick this in his heart and be done with it.
But Riden’s voice comes circulating in my ears again. Please don’t kill him.
I’ve never had a brother. I don’t know how I would feel toward him. Especially if he behaved like Draxen. I think I’d still kill him.
What do I care what Riden thinks? He’s the only one who gets hurt as a result. Draxen won’t feel a thing. The pirates under him can always find a new vessel to crew for. Most of them seem more loyal to Riden than they do their captain anyway. Lord Jeskor isn’t around to claim vengeance. But Riden might. I suppose he might even rally up the crew to join him.
I’m not afraid.
I get on my knees and find myself staring at the dagger.
It’s the dagger that Riden let me keep. He knows I have it. He’s known I’ve had it for a while. But he’s trusted me not to abuse it. It was a gift of protection from him. He took everything else I owned away from me, but he let me keep this one token out of good faith.
And he trusted me enough not to kill his brother?
What a fool.
I hover over Draxen’s chest, visualize the knife sinking in, imagine the resistance of the skin and innards, hear the sound of the knife sliding between the ribs.
But no matter how many ways I think about it, I can’t seem to make my hand advance downward.
As much as I try to be unaffected by Riden, for all I’m worth, I can’t seem to do the one simple act of killing his cruel brother.
I’ve killed hundreds of men. Why not this one?
Blasted Riden.
I try to make myself feel better by thinking it’s not worth the time to make the kill. Of course, I’ve wasted more than a minute, sitting here, thinking about it. But never mind that.
I need to get that map.
I need to find Riden.
Chapter 16
I CAUTIOUSLY PEEK MY head outside of Draxen’s quarters.
I can’t see anyone from where I stand, but it’s getting dark, so it’s hard to tell for sure. No one is needed for steering because we’re not moving at the moment. Draxen is biding his time, probably formulating some sort of plan for infiltrating my father’s keep if he hasn’t already. No matter what he has planned, he will not get far. My father will have scouts everywhere. They might have even spotted the ship already.
Over the last few days, we’ve passed by several small, empty islands. This area is dotted with them. My father has chosen one of the larger ones as the meeting point. We can’t be more than a few hours’ sail from it.
I reach the main deck and take another look around. There’s movement by the port side. A few more steps and it turns out to be Riden, preparing a boat.
“Did you kill him?” is the first thing he asks me.
“Surprisingly, no. You’re welcome.”
“Thank you. That means more to me than I can say.”
I shrug. “Is that supposed to be for me?” I ask, pointing to the boat he’s lowering into the water.
“Yes. I’ve ordered the crew to go belowdecks. You should have enough time to get to your father’s keep. The only thing more I ask is that you give us a head start before sending the pirate king after us.”
“If I were to send my father after you, it wouldn’t matter how much of a head start you had. The only reason you’re not all dead now is because he was never looking for you.”
Riden looks up from the rope in his hands. “What do you mean? Are you saying that—”
“My capture was all a ruse.”
The look he gives me is priceless. “But I thought you decided to make the most of your kidnapping by searching the ship once you’d arrived.”
“Afraid not. I planned to get kidnapped from the start. My father ordered it.”
Riden’s face is open confusion. “Why would the pirate king send out his only heir on such a dangerous mission?”
“Because I’m the only one he trusted to be successful. I have certain abilities that others do not.”
Riden releases his hold on the rope. The boat must have reached the water. “Are you using them now? Is that why I’m doing this? Helping you?”
“If I were, you would’ve given me the map already. Since you’re trying so hard to conceal it from me
, you can rest assured you still have control over your mind.”
“Your eyes have changed,” he says, seemingly randomly.
“What?”
“They were blue when you first got here. Now they’re green.”
He’s awfully perceptive. My eyes are blue when I have the strength of the sea with me. Once it’s all gone, they shift back to green.
“My eyes are blue-green,” I say.
“No. They’ve definitely changed.” He leans against the railing, looking surprisingly unafraid. “What are you?”
“As if I’d tell you.”
“Are you a siren?”
I cringe at the word. It’s so strange to hear it coming from Riden’s lips. “Not exactly.”
“Your mother is a siren. That story. The rumor that your father is the only one to have bedded a siren and lived—it’s true.”
Is there any point in denying it? My father will be hunting down this ship shortly anyway. “Yes.”
“But why are you the way you are? Sirens depend on human men for their survival, but they produce more sirens. What makes you more human than sea creature?”
“That is an excellent question. You’re right: I’m not fully a siren, more half siren–half human. And there is something special surrounding my birth. I’ll tell you what it is if you tell me where you hid the map.”
“Tempting as that is, I can’t tell you that. Why don’t you get it over with and make me tell you?”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“Then how does it work?”
“I’ll tell you. Just please hand over the map, Riden.”
“Sorry, Alosa.”
“Fine. I’ll get it out of you. But I’ll have you know I loathe doing this.” I reach down to that unnatural part of me. Suddenly, I’m uncomfortable in my own skin. Goose bumps rise on my arms and legs. My hair seems to stand on edge. Mentally, it’s exhausting to be so aware of everything around me.
“You’re doing that thing again,” he says. “You’ve changed.”
I’ve never had anyone be able to detect the change in me before. Not even my own father can tell, so how can Riden?
“I’m tapping into the part of me that comes from my mother. I hate using it. Feels awful and unnatural.”
“Does it give you the ability to read my mind?”
“No, I can only tell what you’re feeling.”
This seems to give him great alarm. His emotions turn from a glowing, vibrant red to light gray almost instantly.
Gray is an interesting color. When it’s the dark gray of storm clouds, the emotion is tied to guilt. In a lighter hue, the emotion is grief.
A deep sadness has come over Riden. But the change is so immediate, it causes me to believe he’s thinking about something extremely sad to him on purpose so I can’t get anything else out of him.
“Are you thinking sad thoughts on purpose?” I ask.
“It’s terrifying that you know what I’m thinking.”
“Not thinking. I don’t know why you’re sad. Only that you’re thinking about something that causes you grief.”
Now I need to play on his fear. His fear of me finding the map. He won’t have hidden it on his person. He had to have known I would search him for it. He’ll have hidden it somewhere on the ship. I’ll have to gauge his fear if I’m to find it.
I start moving about the ship, but I keep him talking as I do. “How did you figure out that I’m … different?” I ask as I walk to the starboard side of the ship. I’m near the entrance that leads belowdecks. The men laugh and talk loudly. They’d have to be for me to hear it from up here. Probably grateful for some downtime.
“That time I woke up and couldn’t remember what happened before I passed out. At first I assumed you knocked me out, but I couldn’t remember any sort of a struggle. In fact, I remember something quite the opposite.”
I smile to myself. Yes, that was a fun night.
Riden’s still trying to mask something with his deep sense of grief. If I were to guess, I’d say he’s thinking about his father’s death. But there are flares of red that shine through as he talks to me. Particularly when he mentioned that night.
“But then there was that day when you changed. It was like you were someone completely different. You weren’t putting up a fight. You weren’t talking like you usually do. It was … unnerving. I swear, you looked different, too. If I squinted, I could see a faint haze of light around you.”
That, he imagined. There is no physical difference when I alter my actions and words—when I call up the siren.
“I’ve known about my father’s map since I was a little boy,” he continues. “I know about sirens, even if I don’t understand them completely. I put my limited knowledge together with what I knew of you and your father. It wasn’t a hard connection to make. I had my suspicions long before tonight—before you sang to me.”
I’m only getting flickers of heat amidst his sadness. No fear. The map can’t be over here. I start toward the upper deck.
Riden follows at a safe distance. “Why can’t you make me tell you where it is? You made me sleep, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I put you to sleep. Twice. But I exhausted my”—I don’t want to call them powers; that sounds strange—“abilities. That’s why I couldn’t put you to sleep deeply the second time. I’m all out.”
“And how do you get them back?”
“The sea. She gives me strength. The closer I am to her, the stronger I am.”
The map’s not up here. I stride back down the companionway and head for the bow of the ship.
“What else can you do? Besides put people to sleep?” Riden steps back, almost like he’s afraid to touch me, when I pass him on my way to the other end of the ship.
I can make men see things that are not there. I can put thoughts in their heads. I can make them promises they’ll believe. I can get them to do anything I want. All I have to do is sing. I’m not sure I should tell him any of this, though. Even if I do believe my father will capture this ship soon.
“If I choose to, I can feel what men want. I know their every desire. And I use that to get what I want. It’s something I can turn off and on at will.” And lose myself in, if I go too far.
Riden freezes at that. Wait, no. There’s a flash of black. Of fear. I stop where I am and look around. I passed the center of the ship, where the mainmast extends into the air.
“Is that why you act the way you do?” he asks. I think he’s trying to distract me.
I take a few steps toward Riden, back toward the mainmast. “What do you mean?”
“The whole time you’ve been on this ship. Everything you’ve said and done. Have you been reading me? Giving me what I want? Is that why I feel the need to protect you? Or did you get in my head? Force me to feel things I’ve never felt before?”
That stops me short. “Riden, the only thing I’ve ever made you do is sleep. I have not played with your mind or acted a certain way to toy with you. I only used that on Draxen once to try to find the map. Whatever it is you think and feel—it comes from you. I didn’t do anything.”
The light around him turns blue.
“You’re confused,” I say. “Why?”
He narrows his eyes. “Because I don’t understand you. And I don’t know what to believe.”
“You can choose to believe what you wish, but I speak the truth. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a map to find.” I look upward. “The crow’s nest, eh?” I ask. That must be where Riden’s hidden it.
Riden cocks his head at something behind me. “What are you doing up here?”
I was so focused on Riden’s reaction to my moving about the ship, I didn’t realize someone was coming up behind me. I’m about to turn when I feel a sharp pain at the back of my head and fall into darkness.
* * *
Everything is hazy. I can make out a couple of forms, but mostly I feel the rocking—the rocking of a boat on the sea.
“She’s waking,�
� someone says.
“She heals faster than I thought. Hit her again.”
Blackness greets me once more.
* * *
Cold.
Everything is cold. I feel it at my cheek. Clinging to my fingers. Seeping in through my clothes.
My eyelids are heavy, but I manage to open them. They’re met with bars. Am I back in my cell?
No.
Beyond the bars is not the interior of a ship, but sand and trees. I hear the rolling of waves not far off, though I can’t see the shore.
I am alone.
The trees rustle in the wind. I shiver through the cold. Creatures slither and crawl on the ground, making their way through the undergrowth. The sounds of the night do not frighten me.
No, it is the cage that frightens me. I am without song. Without my lockpicks. Without any company at all.
For the first time in a long time, I am truly afraid.
* * *
It is morning before anyone approaches me.
I do not recognize the man. He’s tall, though not as tall as my father. Bald on top of his head, a brown beard on his chin. Five gold hoops hang from his left ear. His clothes are fine, yet roguish. He has a sword and pistol at his hips. Though I can’t imagine he has to use them often. He looks as though he’s built out of solid muscle, but I bet I could take him were I not locked up.
He pulls something out of his pocket, an orb of some sort. Ah, it’s the map. He tosses it up in the air and catches it lazily. A show for my benefit.
“Do you know who I am?” he asks. His voice sounds exactly as I would expect—deep and demanding.
“Am I supposed to care?” I ask indifferently, as though I’m not trapped. I’m proud of myself for my tone. It masks completely the coiling of nerves in my stomach.
“My name is Vordan Serad.”
I hide my surprise. I have been kidnapped by the third pirate lord, and this time my capture is not planned.
At least not by me.
I try for faked confidence. “Do you know who I am?” I ask in return, matching Vordan’s air of authority.
“You are Alosa Kalligan, daughter of Byrronic Kalligan, the pirate king.”
Daughter of the Pirate King Page 16