Pirate's Promise

by Chris A. Jackson

  A twinge of excitement followed by a flush of pleasure warmed her, and she knew Saffron was near, probably chasing something small and tasty through the shrubbery. She broadcast a stern sense of duty, hoping he'd take the hint. Tonight wasn't the time for him to go scurrying off after mice.

  She noted a few curious glances from other diners, and wondered if they suspected the inquisitor's arrival. Rumors were no doubt flying around Okeno already. She wouldn't be surprised if Quopek himself had let slip that the inquisitor had spent the night in her company.

  Movement drew her eye to the foyer of the restaurant. Zarina stood there, sweeping the room with her eyes. Tall and imposing, she wore her official attire: gleaming chainmail and weapons, though she had left her repeating crossbow behind. Lamplight glittered off the key of Abadar embroidered on her tabard.

  All business tonight, then.

  Banishing her twinge of worry, Vreva met Zarina's gaze with a beaming smile and was relieved to see it returned. Rising as Kamalah led the inquisitor to the table, Vreva held out her hands in greeting. As always, she had thought long and hard about her manner and actions tonight, how best to put her guest at ease. Embarrassing Zarina with a public display of affection might put her off, which was the last thing she wanted.

  "You're looking ready for anything tonight," Vreva said. "Not expecting trouble, I hope."

  "Not at all." Zarina grasped both of Vreva's hands, squeezing them gently as she leaned in to kiss her on both cheeks. "And you look ..." She appraised Vreva's silk-clad figure with approval, whispering something in Varisian that sounded both poetic and suggestive. "...lovely tonight."

  "Thank you." Vreva smiled demurely and nodded toward the table. "Now sit down before you embarrass me."

  "Ha!" Zarina released her grasp and took a seat, maneuvering her weapons with practiced ease. "I doubt very much that anything I do could embarrass you, and yet you greet me with a handshake?"

  "I didn't want to ...presume too much."

  "Presume? What do you mean?" Zarina's brow furrowed, and Vreva knew that she'd played this card perfectly.

  "You're a figure of authority here in Okeno on business. I didn't know how you would feel about ...being associated with a courtesan. There are rumors as it is."

  "Let them talk." Zarina flicked a hand dismissively. "I couldn't stop people from spreading rumors about us even if they weren't true. And as you pointed out, we're both adults, and aren't breaking any laws."

  "I'm glad you feel that way, Zarina, but I wanted to make sure. I wouldn't want to harm your reputation."

  "And what of your reputation?" Zarina quirked a wry smile.

  "My dear Zarina." Vreva waved her hand with a flourish. "My reputation is above reproach."

  Zarina leaned forward, her smile turning wolfish, her voice a soft, low growl. "So, if I threw you down on this table and had my way with you right here in the restaurant, your reputation wouldn't be tainted?"

  Vreva gaped at her in astonishment for a moment before breaking into honest laughter. "Tainted? No, I think it would bolster my reputation!" She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Shall we try?"

  "Ah ...no." Zarina blushed and nodded as if conceding a point. "You've called my bluff. Let the rumormongers talk, but we needn't fuel their fires."

  "Fair enough."

  Vreva waved to the discreetly hovering waiter. He approached, two bottles cradled in his arms as if they were his own newborn babes. The wine he presented to Vreva, and she nodded in approval. Zarina, however, shook her head when he displayed the bottle of fine whiskey.

  "Water only for me tonight, thank you."

  "As the lady wishes." The waiter poured Vreva's wine, bowed, and departed.

  "I hope you're not still feeling any ill effects from last night." Vreva sipped her wine.

  "No, but I should keep my wits about me tonight for our discussion. I reviewed my notes from last night, and I have some questions."

  "Of course. During dinner, or afterward?"

  "During dinner, if you don't mind." Zarina leaned forward. "Vreva, I must thank you for your help with my investigation. I've spent the entire day talking to people, and all I get are averted eyes and mumbled words that mean nothing! I think they worry that I'm looking for scapegoats rather than the truth."

  "It's a pleasure to help you, Zarina." Dear Calistria, this is working out even better than I imagined! "As a courtesan, I have no way to find Templeton's accomplices. Aiding your quest helps heal the injury of his betrayal. I see that you are actually helping me."

  At that moment, the waiter returned with two menus and a platter of flatbread and hummus. Vreva waved away the menu.

  "My usual, please."

  "Curried lamb. Yes, Mistress Jhafae."

  "That sounds delicious." Zarina handed back her menu. "The same please."

  "Very good." The waiter nodded with a smile and left.

  "You won't be disappointed."

  Zarina reached across the table and took Vreva's hand in hers. "I know."

  The intensity of the inquisitor's gaze unnerved Vreva, and she felt a blush warm her cheeks. Zarina's sudden self-assurance about their relationship came as a pleasant surprise. Her stomach fluttered at the sensation of Zarina's strong hand clasping hers.

  Those are the hands that tortured Fieson! Never forget that!

  Vreva resented the chiding of her conscience. Yes, Zarina was an inquisitor. Finding the truth was her sworn duty, and sometimes she used unpleasant means to achieve that goal, just as Vreva used lies, drugs, and seduction to achieve hers. Their methods were different, but their goals were startlingly similar. Both of them sought to root out the truth. We're more alike than we're different.

  "So," Zarina released her hand and tried a wedge of the bread with a dab of hummus, "I've been thinking about your clients, and I have some questions."

  "Of course." Vreva sampled the spicy dip, and prepared her mind to weave a web of truth-veiled lies.

  "Templeton brought you wine, and he asked you about your clients. Did he seem interested in anyone particularly?"

  "Not really." Vreva sipped her wine and cast the first strand. "He asked about a great many things ..."

  Chapter Eight

  Revelations

  Celeste couldn't sleep for the stars and galaxies whirling through her mind. Coiled beneath the tent's open ventilation flap, she gazed up at the night sky. The magnified view using the Observatory was beautiful, but with it she could no longer discern the constellations, which she used for her prophecies. Nor could she calculate the angles of the heavenly bodies necessary for navigation.

  Different beauties, different uses.

  This had been their third night using the Observatory, and she had barely scratched the surface of all she wanted to discover. A year would not be enough to see everything.

  Too much to see, and too little time to see it all.

  Sighing, she peered through her telescope at an intriguing cluster of blue-white stars. Her pen scratched across the parchment as she jotted down coordinates, a reminder to observe them tomorrow night using the Observatory. Curiously, when her notation was complete, the scratching persisted. The sound was not unlike that of her scales on dry ground.

  Scales on dry ground ...They had seen sand eels on their way to the Observatory, but the ground here was too hard for them. A death worm? Possible, but something that large would surely have been spotted by the watch guards. Of course, venomous snakes were not uncommon. The scratching neared the tent.

  Celeste had used all of her transformation and illusion spells for the day, and dared not venture out in her natural form. Even though it was dark, many people slept by day and were active by night. She glanced over to where Torius snored fitfully on his bedroll, his face and chest glistening with sweat. She hated to disturb his rest. But if it's a serpent of some kind ...She had to determine if a threat lurked outside the tent.

  Celeste rose on her coils and peeked over the edge of the open canvas fl
ap.

  Her hearted stopped pounding. There was no serpent, only someone in a dark cloak walking past their tent. She watched as he stopped and turned. Lord Astrus's eyes searched the dark camp, his head turning this way and that as if questing for some elusive scent on the breeze. After a moment, he continued on, and she heard it again: the rhythmic scratch of scales against dry ground. Then her keen eye caught a glimpse of something unexpected.

  Lord Astrus left no footprints in his wake, only the familiar undulating track of a serpent.

  What in the name of the heavens?

  Even as Celeste tried to reconcile the incongruence between what she saw and heard, his form seemed to melt away. The dark cloak rippled into dark scales. Alabaster hair flowed down his back, and his sinuous tail twitched.

  A shiver thrilled down her long spine. Astrus is a lunar naga!

  Celeste dropped down onto her coils. She hadn't seen another of her kind since she left her home so very many years ago. With a surge of excitement, she slithered to the tent flap, intent on greeting him. Then she halted, a lifetime of caution reasserting itself. She couldn't go out without revealing her true form, and if Astrus was using an illusion to conceal his nature, he might not appreciate her exposing him. Well, she could at least let Torius know what was going on.

  She slithered to his bedroll and gave him a nudge. "Torius!" She kept her voice low but urgent. "Wake up! You need to see this!"

  "What? What is it?" He rolled up and reached for his sword before his eyes even cleared. "Trouble?"

  "No trouble, but I've discovered what it was about Astrus that was bothering me, the magical aura I saw around him." She nudged him again and went back to the open ventilation flap. "Come look!"

  "This better be good." He put his sword down and joined her. He wasn't tall enough to peer over the top, so he nudged a chest over and stood on it.

  Celeste peeked over the rim and spied Astrus slithering between two tents. "Now! Look!"

  Torius peered out. "Look at what?"

  "At Astrus!"

  "What about him?"

  "Oh ...blast it!" She'd forgotten that he would only see the illusion. Leaning in close to his ear, she whispered, "Look at his feet. Watch the ground behind him for footprints, and tell me what you see."

  "I can barely see him, much less his footprints. It's too dark." He shot her an irritated look. "I don't see as well as you do, Celeste. Just tell me. What's wrong with Astrus?"

  "His appearance is an illusion, Torius. He's a lunar naga!"

  He stared at her. "A what?"

  "You know!" She shimmered her scales briefly. "Scales, fangs, venom, a love of the stars. A lunar naga!"

  "You're sure?" He still sounded dubious.

  "Oh, I don't know, Torius. I haven't seen one in a while, except for in the mirror!"

  "I wasn't suggesting that you wouldn't recognize one, Celeste, it's just that I'd never even heard of a lunar naga until I met you. They're kind of rare."

  "Oh, really?" Why was he being such a dolt about this?

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to doubt you. If you say Astrus is a lunar naga, then he is. I believe you." His eyebrows lifted suddenly. "In fact, it explains a lot."

  "Like what?"

  "Like Hashi. He's twitchy, shaky ..." Torius lifted a quaking hand. "Do those symptoms remind you of anyone?"

  "You think Hashi's going through withdrawals?" It suddenly made sense. Astrus's people were his followers, not his employees.

  "Yes, I do. And I wonder if all of his people are drug-addled."

  "Now Torius, just because you—"

  "It's slavery, Celeste, and I don't like it."

  "Many lunar nagas have followers who take their venom mixed with alcohol for its hallucinogenic effects, Torius, and they enter the compact willingly. That doesn't make Astrus a slaver."

  "I still don't have to like it." He shook his head, and barked a laugh. "A lunar naga ...I'm just surprised."

  "You're surprised! How do you think I feel?"

  "Honestly, Celeste, I don't know. Humans are as common as grass. More common than grass around here, in fact." He grinned and ran a hand through her hair. "I imagine it's a bit like seeing a long-lost relative."

  How did she feel? Scared? Worried? Yes, but exhilarated as well. If anyone could share with her what they knew about the stars, it would be another lunar naga.

  "What are you going to do about it?"

  His question snapped her out of her musing. As usual, Torius cut right to the core of the problem. What was she going to do? Tell Astrus that she knew his true form? Simply reveal herself to him? What if he didn't want anyone to know? What if he made her leave? Her excitement waned as anxiety waxed.

  "I don't know, Torius." She bit her lip. "I don't have any idea what I'm going to do."

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  *This place smells amazing! Will you buy me a fish?*

  Vreva wrinkled her nose. The odors of fish, slaves, and unwashed sailors permeated the hot afternoon air, and she longed for a bath to scrub herself clean of the stench. The waterfront had never been her favorite place, and even less so since the burning of Devil's Dawn.

  "No! Just keep an eye out for trouble." She barely moved her lips, trying to avoid unwanted attention.

  *These are the Okeno docks, Vreva. There's nothing here but trouble.*

  "You're not helping, Saffron. I came down here to think, not listen to you yammer on. Unless you've got a serious suggestion, please be quiet!"

  *Fine.* He dug his claws into her arm and lashed his tail.

  Vreva seemed plagued with troubles lately. First and foremost, Zarina. Tonight would be the first since their initial night together that she wouldn't be seeing the inquisitor. After their dinner at Kamalah's, Vreva had accompanied Zarina to her inn for further discussions, and they'd ended up in the inquisitor's bed. The night after that, it had been a lovely moonlit gondola ride around Yellow Harbor. When they'd returned to the dock, Zarina had simply gotten into the coach with Vreva and ordered the driver to take them to the Inn of the Eighth Sin. She left the next morning after breakfast. Tonight Vreva had a client scheduled, postponing their next rendezvous. Zarina had been disappointed, but understanding—business was business. Vreva was relieved; she needed time to reflect on the position she had put herself in.

  Her plan had worked all too well. Zarina was falling for her, and falling hard. Vreva was acquiring detailed information about the investigation and the Pactmasters' plans against the abolitionists, but she was also exhausted. She spent more time with Zarina than with all of her other clients combined, and the constant vigilance of word and deed wore on her. On top of that, her own emotional response troubled her. She found herself anticipating their appointments, enjoying conversations on subjects other than their respective jobs, and reveling in the physical pleasures they shared. The woman beneath the armor was bright, beautiful, lively ...and dangerous.

  "What am I going to do?" she murmured, keeping her voice low.

  *Okay, I've got a suggestion!* Saffron licked her nose. *We pack up, disguise ourselves as disciples of Pharasma, board a ship, and get the hell out of Okeno!*

  "I meant a real suggestion!"

  *That was a real suggestion! You're diddling an inquisitor who's hunting you. You don't have an intermediary. You've got enough poison, potions, scrolls and other incriminating evidence in the apartment to put your neck in a noose a dozen times, and my box hasn't been cleaned out in three days!*

  "I'm sorry, love." She kissed her dear friend on the head. "Have I been neglecting you?"

  *Yes, but that's really not my point.* He bumped her chin with his forehead and nuzzled her neck. *You're playing with fire here, and Marshal Trellis doesn't give a damn that you've got an inquisitor breathing down your neck! Quite literally breathing down your neck, I might add. Don't think I didn't see you two on the balcony last night!*

  Vreva shivered pleasantly with the memory. Dear Calistria, I'm in trouble!

  Driving away the erotic
images filling her mind, Vreva forced herself to the task at hand. It was common knowledge that the Pactmasters had offered a considerable reward for the destruction of the Gray Corsairs, Andoran's naval branch of the Steel Falcons, both for their sinking of Okeno slave galleys and for their relentless attacks on Stonespine Island, the center of the slave trade for the entire Inner Sea region. No small part of the Gray Corsairs' success, in fact, had resulted from intelligence that Vreva helped to gather. What wasn't widely known, and what Zarina had recently let drop, was that the Masks had begun arming the Okeno slaver fleet. Unfortunately, the inquisitor had not mentioned exactly how they were arming the vessels.

  Vreva looked at every slave galley they passed, her trained eyes searching for something new, something different, but nowhere could she see evidence of newly installed arms. They already sported ballistae, and the larger ones even had catapults. What more did they need?

  If only I could use my spells, I could read her thoughts and get the answer! But she still didn't dare use magic on Zarina. If the inquisitor suspected for even a moment that Vreva was more than she claimed to be, the courtesan would share Fieson's fate. Saffron nuzzled her and purred in an attempt to cast off her black mood.

  "I can handle Zarina, Saffron." Vreva wasn't sure if the conviction in her voice was intended to convince her familiar or herself. "I've got her right where I want her."

  *I noticed that, too.* His sarcasm came through clear and strong.

  "What I need is someone to replace Fieson, but everyone I know here is a godsdamned slaver!"

  *Well, not everyone, but I agree that there's nobody here you can trust. That's why we should just leave.*

  "We can't leave, my love." She gazed down the docks at the slave galleys, the merchant ships, the swift-sailing sloops that no doubt engaged in piracy when the opportunity arose ...