“Mouse here is trying to throw me overboard,” said Saffi, pushing Bree off from where she had climbed onto her shoulders.
She hit the deck with an oof.
Therza’s dark brows rose. “She ain’t doing much of a job of it, is she?”
“I don’t think I like having sisters,” Bree huffed from her spot by their feet.
“Sisters?” questioned Therza.
“Never mind.” Niya rolled her eyes. “It was a failed explanation.”
“We reach port!” called Boman from the wheel.
The four of them turned, taking in the scene.
It had been months since Niya had set eyes on her city of birth, and her magic rushed forward as she took in the familiar climbing white and sandstone buildings. Red-tiled roofs soared endlessly, with tightly built dwellings making up the outer ring of Jabari. The port was busy today, with many ships sliding in to anchor or unload crates filled with trade along the docks.
“Time to get workin’, girls,” said Saffi as they dispersed to prepare the Crying Queen to enter.
Niya helped, because how could she not? She did not know when she’d ever be back here to pull rope and line again. Plus, it distracted her from what would happen when the ship stilled and the gangplank lowered to connect with Jabari’s harbor.
Which, as it was, happened much too quickly.
Soon Niya stood on the port side of the ship, the entire crew gathered around her.
Her heart pulled in two directions.
“Have you got your things?” asked Kintra from where she stood beside Saffi and Bree at the front.
“All I have to take is what’s on me.” Niya patted her blades at her hips.
Small arms jumped forward to wind around Niya’s waist.
“Bree,” admonished Kintra. “Best not be showing you’ve gone soft now.”
“Sisters are allowed to hug goodbye,” she said. “Right?” She peered up at Niya. “We are sisters?”
She smiled down at the girl and squeezed back, her heart aching. “Of course,” she said. “And don’t worry; it is the strongest of souls who are brave enough to bare emotions.”
Kintra snorted. “Don’t let the captain hear you say that.”
At the mention of Alōs, Niya’s pulse quickened, and she looked up to search the crew, but he was not among them.
A tightness twisted through Niya’s chest.
She and Alōs had properly kept their distance after returning to the Crying Queen.
Niya knew it was for the best. Unlike Bree, the notorious pirate lord could not afford to show such emotions among his pirates. The Crying Queen had places to sail to next, wicked things to no doubt seize, and she had a Thief Kingdom to help keep in line, a duty to her family to return to.
“It’s been an honor to sail with you.” Kintra extended a hand. “Despite our differences.”
Niya took the offered palm. “Differences only make us stronger.”
The quartermaster laughed at that. “Aye, or fight each other.”
“Which can make us stronger,” she pushed.
Kintra smiled then, a genuine smile that showed her rows of checkered gold teeth. “Until we meet again, Red.”
Stepping back, Kintra allowed the rest of the crew to approach and say their farewells. Mika slapped her on the back, as did Emanté, wishing her luck wherever she went next. Green Pea gave her a bit of tacking rope he had braided into a bracelet, causing Bree to push him in annoyance that she hadn’t thought of that first. Felix merely smiled at her shyly before Therza pulled her into one of the longest hugs Niya had ever experienced.
“You be safe now, Red,” she said, pulling back but holding on to her arms. “We’ll miss you around these parts, so come and find us when yous can, or we might be inclined to kidnap you again.” She cackled in delight as she let go.
Niya shook her head with a wistful smile and stepped onto the plank, which would take her to the dock below.
Regarding the pirates one last time, she gazed out at the sea of misfits who had started as her worst enemies and grown to be her closest friends.
If she had bet on how she would feel the day she was set free of this lot, she would have lost more than her purse, and most assuredly her mind, for how unexpected this journey had turned out to be. Taking a deep breath in, she made to descend the ship when a slip of cold magic touched along her shoulder.
Turning, her eyes collided with those of burning blue.
Alōs stood beside Boman up on the quarterdeck, looking down at her. He was a splotch of ink in the bright morning sun wrapped in his black coat, his broad shoulders leading to strong hands that grasped the banister before him.
Alōs’s gaze consumed her from where he stood.
Everything in Niya’s body told her to go to him.
To run up there and embrace him so she could feel his strength between her arms one last time.
But neither of them moved.
Because neither of them could.
They were a sun and a moon separated by an endless moving sky.
So Niya did the only thing she could: she smiled.
Alōs returned it with a nod.
It was not the final farewell Niya had hoped for, but that was perhaps for the best.
The curt gesture was the last severing of rope tying her to the ship.
You are free now, his gaze said. Go.
And so, with determination burying deep her heavy heart, she did.
Niya turned and, without looking back, left the Crying Queen behind.
Months later, when restless hearts beat unchanged
CHAPTER FIFTY
The port was dark but not quiet. As were most sections of the city within the Thief Kingdom. Niya leaned against a post, gazing through her black eye mask into the dark and rowdy bar that was built along the harbor. It smelled of fish and fried food and patrons who cared more about their next drink than about their next bath.
Niya had found the Drowning Dog during one of her many strolls through this part of town.
The sea-weathered spirit den warmed her heart in a way she could not explain, except to say it reminded her of another place and time.
Arabessa and Larkyra, however, had not shared in her nostalgia as they’d followed her here tonight.
“We are meant to be at Macabris,” Larkyra had exclaimed on their walk, “because it is midweek, and midweek means we are meant to be at Macabris!”
“What do you even find so appealing about this establishment that you must visit it so often?” Arabessa had asked. “I hear they sell watered-down ale and spoiled spirits.”
Niya had quite plainly pointed out that neither of them had to tag along.
But that had only been met with more huffs and puffs and pointing out in return that this was meant to be a night out together.
So it was that the three Bassette sisters, dressed in the finest of disguises ever to grace such a dive as this, found themselves at the Drowning Dog.
And—despite rumors—learned quickly that their ale and spirits were certainly not watered down. In fact, they were quite liquored up.
“She may have unparalleled grace,” said Arabessa beside Niya as they watched their youngest sister balance on a chair’s back, her pearl disguise winking in the dim establishment. “But I fear all balance was lost after that fourth shot.”
“I don’t know,” mused Niya. “If anything, it might have her concentrating more.”
The bar erupted in cheers as Larkyra succeeded in jumping to her other foot, remaining poised on the edge of the chair’s back. She waved in triumph to where Niya and Arabessa stood at the far end of the bar.
But this extra task appeared too much, for in the next moment Larkyra fell over, landing on the wood floor with an oof.
There was a collective gasp around the room before—
“I’m fine!” Larkyra bounced up.
Patrons pounded their glee on tables; a few others handed her another drink.
“We shoul
d probably trade that with water,” said Arabessa.
“But then how will she ever learn to trade it herself?” countered Niya.
“And you both say I am the tougher sister,” tsked Arabessa.
“No, we call you the most annoying one.”
Arabessa shoved her with an elbow. “If anyone’s been annoying lately, I’d say it’s you and your gloomy moods.”
Niya set her jaw, not meeting her sister’s gaze. “I have not been moody.”
“No? Then why have you been taking most of your meals in your rooms the past few weeks?”
“Perhaps because I find the company of others trying lately.”
“Or,” suggested Arabessa, “you only wish for the company of the pirate variety?”
A new tension set along Niya’s spine. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ara.”
Her elder sister fell quiet as Larkyra bounded toward them, three mugs of ale sloshing in her gloved hands. “Ladies,” she called, handing them each a drink. “If we are to stand apart from the fun of this establishment, why are we here again?”
“Niya is moping,” explained Arabessa.
“No I am not!” she said, irritation radiating.
“Is this about the Crying Queen docking at port yesterday?” asked Larkyra.
“What?” Niya’s heart kicked over with a start.
“I thought you knew. Father said he was to have an audience with the pirate captain.”
Niya frowned. She most certainly had not heard this.
“When did he tell you that?”
“At breakfast the other day,” said Larkyra with a shrug.
“When you were most likely hiding in your rooms,” explained Arabessa.
Niya’s breathing grew quick, a new ache filling her chest. She was ashamed to admit it, but she had been secretly wishing to hear such news for weeks now, months even. A whisper that the notorious pirate ship was back at port. She’d even found herself searching the crowds during each of their Mousai performances, searching in the hopes of finding the captain’s searing blue gaze, his wicked grin that sent shivers of desire through her.
But as the days had passed, filling her again and again with empty hope, she had grown distant from her surroundings. Numb to the merriment of the palace parties, which usually employed such enjoyable distractions.
And she hated it.
Niya needed to get over whatever it was she was clinging to.
“He’s probably meeting with Alōs about their recent mission in the east,” exclaimed Larkyra.
“I heard they were able to help all those villages,” said Arabessa. “Give the lands back to the women who were meant to rule them.”
Niya drank in her sisters’ words, which set a deeper ache in her chest. One that was mixed with pride.
Over the months the pirates of the Crying Queen had become notorious for a different reason than thievery and sin.
Their ship had transformed into a mercenary’s, sailing to distant places—towns and villages rumored to be run by tyrants or whose people had been forced into indentured servitude—to free them. It had started as a way to repay their debt to the Thief King and return to his good graces but appeared to have extended into a full-time position. The pirates of course were rewarded handsomely for their efforts, but Niya had her suspicions that after their experience helping Esrom, they quite liked the taste of being on the other side of bad. Not that their actions were any less lethal. It took just as much brutality to slay monsters as it did to be one.
Niya understood this, of course, because she and her sisters were such creatures themselves.
“Niya?” asked Larkyra. “Did you hear what I said?”
She blinked over to her sister, her thoughts coming back to the rowdy bar. “Sorry, I missed it.”
“I asked if you wanted to play Split the Wood with us? We were invited by that group over there.” Larkyra pointed to a gaggle of rough-edged men and women disguised in a variety of patchwork masks. They threw sharp axes at shards of wood nailed to the far wall, cheers erupting when one of them was able to split the thin material down the middle.
“Sure,” said Niya. “I’ll join you both in a moment. I need to get some fresh air first. That last mug of ale isn’t sitting right.”
“Fresh air on this side of the harbor?” asked Arabessa, brows rising above her mask. “I fear you won’t find any.”
“I’ll attempt anyway,” she said before waving off her sisters. Placing her mug on the table, she left to step outside.
The caved world greeted her with a refreshing, cool embrace. Far above, the glowworms pulsed on the ceiling, the stars of the kingdom, as the sounds of nightlife shuffled by. Niya stood on the muddy road, looking out at the boats tied to the thin docks that stretched along the harbor. Her gaze turned toward the masts peeking over the buildings on her right, where she knew the larger ships made anchor.
Her muscles ached to walk there, to see if one particular black beast floated in the dark water.
But she was frozen, knowing that path only led to disappointment.
If Alōs had wished to see her, he would have by now.
It wasn’t as though she were the one traipsing about Aadilor these past months.
By the stars and sea, she thought, frowning, have I become a bore?
Since when did she sit still waiting for anyone?
Niya scratched the back of her neck, realizing Arabessa was right. She was moping.
Well, no longer!
Setting her shoulders, she readied herself to return to the bar but froze as a cool slip of energy caressed her back.
Her chest tightened.
No, she thought, closing her eyes, unsure if she could trust the sensation to be true or merely her body wishing it so.
But then it grew stronger, along with a wave of movement, and Niya heard him speak.
“I’d have lost good money,” purred a familiar deep voice from behind her, “if I had bet where I’d find you this night.”
An eruption of wings burst free in her chest as she smiled. Remaining still, she replied, “Then it is lucky for you I have given up gambling.”
“Have you now?” Niya heard the amusement in his tone. “What a pity, for I so enjoyed finding you in my debt.”
Niya turned then and drank in Alōs’s presence.
His large form was swallowed by his dark coat, hair pulled back at the base of his neck to reveal his angular features and startling glowing eyes. Eyes that enveloped her with a burst of memories and desire.
“Hello, fire dancer,” he rumbled.
“Hello, pirate.”
For a moment they stood in silence, merely looking upon the other, studying what neither of them could forget: each other.
“I see your taste in establishments has changed since our last meeting.” Alōs glanced to the crumbling bar beside them.
“And I hear your raids have turned honorable.” She arched a brow.
A smile on his full lips. “Yes, it appears the actions of an old acquaintance have opened my eyes to my full capabilities in Aadilor.”
“Have they? Well, I certainly hope to one day meet this person. They sound very wise.”
“Mmm.” He nodded. “And they’re not so bad in bed either.”
Niya kept herself from grinning at his crudeness, though a whip of heated pleasure ran through her. “So, Lord Ezra, what has you strolling through town at this time of night?”
He cocked his head to the side. “I’d have thought it was obvious,” he said. “To find you.”
“Me?” New anticipation swirled in her gut.
“Aye. The king said you could be found here these days.”
Niya frowned at that. Not quite knowing how to feel about her father possibly understanding the emotions that had caused her to walk this part of town over and over. That they were connected to this man and his misfit crew. But then again, he was her father, the Thief King, and knew more than many.
“Why were you looking for me?” She pe
ered up at Alōs through her mask.
“I’m always looking for you, fire dancer,” he said. “In every port we dock, I search for hair that burns like yours.” He lifted a hand to pull at a loose curl. “In every city we walk, I watch for curves that I have memorized with my fingers and mouth.” His gaze drank in the length of her, sending warmth to pool deep in her core. “And when I sleep, that’s when I search the hardest and where, most nights, I find you.”
Niya’s breathing quickened. “Well, you’ve found me again, but I assure you, I am not a dream.”
“Aren’t you?” he asked, sliding closer, his cool gifts flowing from him in a haze of green.
Her own magic responded with a sigh. Ours, it crooned, escaping her to mingle in the air with his.
They stood in a cloud of their power, their reunion.
“How long are you at port?” she dared ask.
“We leave tonight.”
Her heart stuttered, disappointment gripping her. “So soon.”
“Our next voyage is a long one. We most likely won’t return to the kingdom for a month at least.”
“I see.” She tore her eyes from his, pain settling deep into the patchwork of her heart.
And this was why they could not have been together, always one of them leaving as soon as the other arrived.
“Yes, which is why I must know your answer quickly, I’m afraid. Though I hope it is an easy one for you to decide . . . considering.”
“My answer?” She glanced back up at him in confusion.
“Would you care to be a pirate again? At least for this next voyage of ours?”
“What?”
“I appealed to the king that you could help with where he’s asked us to sail next. He’s agreed that it is a perfect mission for you and your gifts. It is far up north, at White Wall, a frozen tundra to be sure, but that’s where you come in handy.” He grinned. “With all your heat.”
“You . . . wait, the Thief King . . .” Niya shook her head, trying to grasp what she was hearing. “He wants me to help you?”
Alōs’s grin was sly. “Yes, it appears our duties no longer take us on as separate of journeys as they once did. You can serve your king and be with me.”
Dance of a Burning Sea Page 45