Larkyra’s eyes narrowed, assessing the imposing pirate.
By the lost gods, if only Niya had more energy so she could gather enough power to burn through the metal shackling her. Currently she could do no more than warm them up. She was so blasted tired. She needed sleep, food, and a dozen baths.
“Fine,” said Larkyra impatiently. “Let’s make this official, then. Niya handed over to us, along with your silence on our identities, all knowledge hidden destroyed, in return for you and your crew’s pardon in the Thief Kingdom.”
“And no killing this night,” added Alōs.
“And no killing by or of either party this night,” agreed Arabessa from behind them.
“Vexturi.” Alōs smiled, a snake’s smile, as he extended a hand.
“Vexturi,” said Larkyra, shaking it.
“Vexturi,” echoed Arabessa, stepping forward to do the same.
NO! Niya let out a last muffled scream. Noooooooo!
She slumped, defeated, as she watched her sisters shake the pirate’s hand.
The rest of the trade went quickly. Achak captured a prick of blood from Alōs’s finger with the Secret Sealer, binding him silent regarding their secret lest he find himself without a tongue, before dropping the pardon in his palm. The glowing golden cube spun warmth along Alōs’s brown skin as he held it up, eyes gleaming with triumph. Niya felt queasy. Next Alōs gave her sisters a list of where his memory stones were hidden to be destroyed, signing the parchment with a truth oath.
It was done.
Just like that.
As Alōs approached her to remove her gag and binds, he and Niya locked eyes.
His turquoise depths held no hint of his feelings; only apathy swam in his dark heart.
In Niya’s, only hate.
“I will have my revenge,” she hissed once her muzzle was removed.
“Not for a while,” he replied, tone even.
Niya’s magic hit against her veins—we hate we hate we hate—but then her sisters were pulling her to them, and her mind was on an entirely different matter.
“I’m so sorry,” she heard herself say, her voice a raw mess, her heart and body a pool of pain. She was eternally sorry, for forcing them to make such a trade, for revealing their secrets, for her smell, for everything. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated again and again.
Larkyra shushed her, holding her tight. “All will be well. All is well.”
“No, you don’t under—”
“We can discuss this mess once we’re off the ship,” assured Larkyra, gently placing one of their robes around her shoulders.
The small act of kindness destroyed Niya further, especially when Alōs spoke from behind them.
“I’m afraid your sister will be staying.”
“Excuse me?” Larkyra turned, brows raised.
“Niya may no longer be my prisoner, but she won’t be leaving.”
“What are you playing at, Lord Ezra?” Arabessa stepped closer to Niya.
Alōs’s cool gaze found Niya’s once more. “Shall you tell them or shall I?”
She wanted to tell him a thousand things, all sharp and bloody and painful, but her throat had seized in her panic at the prospect of disappointing her sisters further. How have I messed this up so thoroughly?
“Tell us what?” asked Arabessa. “What is going on?”
Alōs pulled up his coat sleeve, revealing his wrist and the black-outlined band that sat against his brown skin, empty, a debt waiting to be repaid.
Her sisters glanced at the mark with confusion, and then . . .
“No.” Arabessa turned to Niya, voice a whisper. “No.”
Niya closed her eyes, forcing back the tears that sat hot and ready.
“Tell us this isn’t—” Arabessa snapped her mouth closed as Niya lifted her arm, displaying her chafed red wrist and the black mark of her binding bet—filled, a debt waiting to be paid.
“Niya,” breathed Arabessa. “What have you done now?”
CHAPTER TEN
What do you mean, you’re leaving without me?” Niya watched in horror as Arabessa pulled up her black hood, instructing Larkyra to do the same. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”
Niya had just finished explaining the reason for her binding bet, trying her best to ignore the penetrating eyes of the pirate lord, who stood watching by his desk. She refused to see Alōs’s smug expression. Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he won enough? Niya wished she could remove the blade at his hip and ram it clean through his chest. If she wouldn’t die in the process, of course.
Argh! This is maddening!
“We all heard what you said,” explained Arabessa. “Which is why we’re leaving.”
“With me,” Niya clarified, staying her sister’s hand as she went to put on her mask. “Listen, Ara, I know you are mad—okay, furious,” she quickly corrected, seeing her sister’s incensed gaze harden. “I mean, by the souls in the Fade, I’m furious at me. But please, don’t you see? I was trying to put a final stop to all this. I was trying to fix it.”
“Yes, and you appear to walk on quicksand,” she replied curtly. “Always getting more entrenched in the mess you’re trying to escape. A binding bet? How could you, Niya?”
“If you had found me sooner”—Niya’s voice shook with her sudden anger, her desperation—“I wouldn’t be in this mess at all!”
Arabessa’s brows nearly rose to her hairline. “I fail to see how any of this is our fault. Did we not just secure our identities after you revealed them?”
“You’re right; I’m sorry.” Niya’s cheeks burned. “I didn’t mean that. I am grateful. Of course I am. It’s just that . . . I didn’t know what to do. You must understand, since that night . . . the things I have done to try to fix this on my own. I never meant . . . that is . . . it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
“Niya,” said Larkyra gently. “How did it happen? How did he learn who we are? If he tortured you for the information, we’ll find our venge—”
“I did not lay a finger on her.” Alōs’s cool voice slipped through their conversation. “Not a painful one, anyway. She willingly showed herself to me—isn’t that right, my fire dancer?”
“I am not your anything,” Niya spat.
“Perhaps we should all take a seat and a deep breath,” suggested Achak, waving their hand to produce chairs.
Arabessa ignored them as she turned toward Niya with a frown. “What is he talking about?”
“Yes,” Larkyra agreed. “What happened, Niya?”
Alone.
She stood alone.
“I was young,” began Niya.
“This will definitely be a long one,” muttered Achak as they settled into a chair.
No one else moved.
“And stupid,” continued Niya, wanting more than anything not to discuss this with Alōs in the room. “But the mistake hasn’t and won’t be made again. The details are not important.”
“Young?” Arabessa turned to the pirate. “How long have you known our secret, Lord Ezra?”
“Did I not just say the details don’t matter?” Niya cut in.
“They matter very much,” countered Arabessa. “You put all of our lives at risk.”
“Please,” Niya pleaded, her magic swirling chaotically with her desperation. “Let us go home. I can explain it all after a bath, or twelve, and then you can decide my punishment.”
“Dear,” said Larkyra gently. “We all know it is the king who will decide that.”
“Yes.” Arabessa fixed her gaze on Niya. “He shall. In the meantime, it seems our sister has stumbled into her own punishment. She will remain here to pay out her debt to Lord Ezra.”
“I shall not!”
“You have no choice. Do you not understand how a binding bet works? Your every move is traceable. It’s to ensure you won’t skip out on payment. The bet’s winner can locate the loser wherever, whenever.”
“Yes, of course I know this, but—”
“And no
magic can break it.” Arabessa charged on. “Not even creatures as powerful as Achak. Hence why it’s called a binding bet.”
Niya floundered, a new panic seizing her. “That can’t be true.”
“Afraid so, my child,” said Achak, now in the brother’s form, where he reclined in their chair, eyes sympathetic. “As hard as it is to hear, your sister speaks true. About the binding bet and you remaining here. The Thief King will never allow you back into the kingdom as part of the Mousai with such a chain. Wherever you go in Aadilor, Alōs can know. Any secret place you hold dear in Jabari can and will be tracked. You’re a walking liability until your debt is paid.”
Niya clenched her jaw. “But . . . but I can’t stay here for a year!” said Niya, imploring her sisters, Achak, anyone.
“Do you have any broken bones?” asked Arabessa.
“Uh, no.”
“Have you caught some sickness or disease you’d presently need a healer for?”
“I don’t think so . . .”
“Are you scared for your life aboard this ship?”
Niya considered this. “Not exactly, but I—”
“Then I see no reason why you would need to first leave.”
“How about a bath,” Niya bit out.
“Yes.” Larkyra wrinkled her nose. “She does rather need one of those.”
“Unnecessary,” interjected Alōs from where he had been watching the entire exchange, leaning against the edge of his desk, boredom in his features. “We may be scoundrels, but we can, at the very least, appear respectable. Now that you’re a part of my crew, you’ll most certainly be getting a washing. I am sorry to say those clothes we’ve already provided you were your only pair. But their current soiled state is your own doing, of course.”
“Argh!” Niya charged him, her magic bubbling to the surface along with her rage, but Arabessa snagged her arm, pulling her back.
“Stop this,” she demanded. “Have you learned nothing from your hot-tempered outbursts? You cannot always act on your every whim and feeling. Maybe then you will stop finding yourself in these situations.”
“Sound advice that I myself have tried explaining to her,” said Alōs, examining his nails.
Niya bit down her scathing reply, her body shaking with fury. He will suffer. He wiiiiiilll, promised her gifts. But then Niya met her older sister’s eyes and took in the disappointment that hung there. Her anger left her in a whoosh.
Despite her best efforts, Niya’s lip began to quiver, her eyes filling with tears.
Arabessa’s hold softened then, and she tugged Niya and Larkyra toward the other side of the room. Away from the pirate.
“Listen.” Arabessa spoke calmly but sternly, a mother to delinquent children. “We do not know how the Thief King will respond to being forced to make such a trade for us. You will be punished, no doubt. He may add a longer sentence for you or something worse—”
“Nothing could be worse than that.” Niya quickly wiped at her eyes.
“We also do not know what discipline Father will decide for you,” Arabessa continued. “What you revealed, Niya . . .”
“I know.” Niya balled her hands into fists. “By the lost gods, I know.”
Empathy finally entered Arabessa’s eyes. “Yes, it seems you do. So know this as well: We will ensure the current debt you must pay out to the pirate will be considered as part of your punishment. We will do our best to plead for whatever leniency can be offered, given the circumstances.”
For the first time since being dragged aboard, Niya felt a small slip of hope. Arabessa did still love her. Despite her outward anger, she cared, Larkyra cared, and that alone steadied Niya’s heart and mind. Yet still, Niya didn’t know how to respond to such kindness. A part of her felt forever unworthy of any sympathy her sisters might bestow on her, given what she had done. Her voice cracked with her emotion as she said, “Thank you.”
“Now tell us.” Arabessa laid a hand on her shoulder. “How long ago was the night that started all this?”
“Four years.”
“Four—!”
Arabessa held up a hand, cutting off Larkyra. “All right.” Arabessa spoke slowly, appearing to measure this new information. “And our masks, they are spelled to remain on unless we wish otherwise, so how did he . . . ?”
Niya’s reddening cheeks and silence seemed answer enough.
“I see,” said Arabessa. “Your dislike for the man makes sense now.”
“I hate him.”
“Understandably so, though it does not change your circumstances. Four years of this secret, Niya.” She shook her head. “I wish you would have told us.”
“I wanted to, but I was scared and ashamed and . . .”
“Brokenhearted?” murmured Larkyra.
“No,” she answered emphatically, almost too much so. “I couldn’t bear your disappointment. Nor the king’s or Father’s wrath. I was an idiot.”
“Yes.”
Niya winced, her sister’s words like a knife in her heart. But she did not contradict her. How could she?
“There is one last thing we must know,” said Arabessa. “And please, understand no anger or disappointment will come from us. That night . . . did he do anything to you that was untoward?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he force things upon you? For if he touched you wrongly in any way, we will leave this ship in splinters, binding bet be damned.”
“He did not,” she assured.
Arabessa nodded, a tightness loosening along her jaw.
Niya’s own shoulders slumped, the reality of what was about to take place hitting her hard. She was to remain here a year. A year. A ringing filled her ears as she took this in, took in the reasoning of her family. She had no choice but to stay.
Niya was going to be sick.
“How will I survive this?” she asked, desperation in her tone.
“You’ll survive it as we must all things,” said Arabessa. “One sunrise at a time.”
“If we’re quite done here,” interjected Alōs, pushing up to his full height and rounding his desk. “After your lovely entrance, I have a ship that needs to be righted and a new crew member that needs training. Such sentimental conversations can be saved for when your sister is returned.”
Niya glared at the pirate. He responded with an equally chilling stare. Gone were the cunning grin and playful charm of a host entertaining guests. Returned was the master of this ship, a man who had gotten exactly what he wanted. Alōs had no more time to play.
“We will ensure our letters find you,” said Larkyra, squeezing Niya’s hands. “And whenever you’re at port, please send word. We will find ways to see one another.”
Niya hardly heard her words as her skin chilled. “A year,” she whispered, unbelieving.
“Knowing you”—Arabessa pressed a strong hand to her shoulder—“you’ll be running this despicable lot in no time.”
Niya nodded, not knowing how to say this goodbye. Not wanting to. “Tell Father . . . tell him . . .”
“We will,” assured Arabessa. “He will know. And please.” She moved closer, lowering her voice. “Do keep your guard high here. This lot may blend in easily within the Thief Kingdom, but pirates have very different sets of rules at sea. And this captain . . .”
“What about him?”
“I sense he needs something important, something only being able to sail more freely with his bounty dropped could get him.”
Arabessa’s words sparked alive a small pulse of hope in Niya’s chest.
I sense he needs something important.
Niya’s mind suddenly filled with new schemes.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”
She might have been chained to this ship, but she could keep a watchful eye on the pirate captain while here. No one was without their secrets, and Alōs was bound to let one slip if she paid attention. Just as she was now bearing the consequences, knowing the right secret of another could allow m
any advantages in this world. Perhaps knowing the right one of Alōs’s could help Niya acquire her freedom before the year was up.
“Just be careful,” said Larkyra. “We won’t know as quickly if you’re in need of us saving you again when you’re out sailing in the middle of the Obasi Sea.”
Niya met her younger sister’s concerned eyes, the weight of what she and Arabessa had recently done for her hitting once more. “I am sorry,” she said. “I really am. And . . . thank you. Thank you for coming and . . . and . . .”
“Yes, well.” Arabessa interrupted her spluttering. “There will be many moments in our future where you can make it up to us.”
“Many, many moments,” added Larkyra, with her own hint of a smile.
“Be brave.” Arabessa took Niya into an embrace.
“But not too brave,” concluded Larkyra as she joined in.
The hug was quick, but Niya was grateful for every grain fall.
For when would they do it again?
“Shall we, my darlings?” asked Achak, their chair disappearing as they stood.
Niya’s sisters stepped back, leaving a painful void in her chest.
Pulling up her black hood, Arabessa turned to address Alōs, her features returning to their cool mask. “Fair warning, pirate—if anything happens to our sister while she’s in your care, you will have us to answer to. And you have my word, no matter what tricks you use to hide, we will find you, and your death will be neither quick nor painless.”
“Then I shall die as I have lived.”
Arabessa held his steady gaze, seeming to assess Alōs’s words.
Niya wondered about them as well, but then Arabessa and Larkyra were putting on their masks, and the final moment was here.
“I’m sure we will see you sooner than later,” said Achak as they approached Niya. “We have been in need of a holiday for some time.”
Niya merely nodded, her heartbeat sounding outside her body as she watched the group exit as they’d entered.
Larkyra was the one to stop at the door, holding Niya’s gaze behind her gold mask, one last look of courage, before she, too, slipped out of the captain’s cabin and into the shadows.
It was truly done.
Their family’s secret was safe.
Dance of a Burning Sea Page 10