Asher took another step. Both men aimed the tips of their swords at the general.
Emperor’s ancestors .
Narra jumped down onto the deck, stepping between Asher and the two ragged seamen. Their smirks disappeared.
“Tell me where he is,” she demanded. Her fingers slipped inside the folds of her cloak, discreetly brushing against her daggers.
“We don’t know who you’re talking about,” the man with the bandana barked.
The burn in her chest turned to fire. A growl escaped her throat and she launched her foot at his hand. His sword clattered away. The man with the earring leapt forward in time for her to pull a long dagger from her belt. She ducked his metal blade and kicked him in the back, sending him right into Asher’s arms.
She turned on the swordless man. He growled and lunged, a dagger of his own in his grasp. Two long slices cut the air. She leaned out of their path. The man pressed forward, baring his teeth as he leapt.
Narra stepped to the side and stuck her foot in his path. He collapsed over her heel, hitting the wooden planks with a thump .
“Tell me where I can find Mikael Ruvand,” she said. The man leapt to his feet and spun to face her.
“No!” the man growled. He threw his dagger at her chest.
She turned and it flew past, burying itself in the ship’s thick mast with a thunk . Rough fingers grabbed her wrist and pulled. She used her own momentum, flying past the man. She jumped onto the railing, flipping over his head and landing on her feet at his back. Her dagger found his throat.
“Tell me,” she said, pressing her blade against his skin.
The man froze. Through the stench of fish, sweat stood out. Narra wrinkled her nose. She glanced at Asher. He had the other man subdued with his arms pinned to his back, his knee digging into the short man’s spine.
“I won’t tell you anything! ”
Narra drew the dagger tighter across his throat. “Who is in charge here?”
“Me.” The cold bite of metal brushed the base of her neck. Narra froze. Ancestors . “Step back, slowly,” a woman purred, her voice low and husky. Her hot breath brushed Narra’s hair.
Narra lowered her dagger, then let it clatter to the deck. The man she subdued heaved a sigh of relief. She stepped back. Asher rose slowly. Two more ragged men held swords at his throat. He held his hands up and dropped his sword.
“Now turn around and let me see that pretty face.” The woman pulled her blade back. Narra clenched her fists and turned slowly. The man with the missing teeth grabbed her forearms and twisted her to face the captain of the vessel. He pinned her arms behind her back, crushing her wrists in his iron grip.
The captain’s thick black hair fell in heavy curls over her shoulders. A large dark brown hat, with a wide, sloping rim covered one of her eyes, and a long red feather stuck out from a black sash. She smiled, her dark lips thick and teasing.
“You are a pretty one.” Her gaze roamed Narra from head to toe beneath her thick black lashes. Though the light of the moon was dim, her caramel skin looked flawless and her dark eyes flashed.
Narra’s lips pressed into a thin line. This ship belonged to no corporal as she had suspected all along. These weren’t simple crewmen waiting for their master’s return.
These were pirates.
“ B ring her to my chambers and leave the man untouched until I return,” the pirate woman said. She flicked her long nails toward Asher before she spun on her heels, her tall boots clacking on the deck.
“Wait!” Asher snapped. Two men gripped his forearms on either side, while a third tied his hands with rope.
Narra shot him a glare. She could handle this on her own. “Be silent.”
Asher met her gaze, his eyes wide, and eyebrows furrowed. She shook her head. He needn’t worry about her. She still had layers and layers of weapons at her disposal. If she wanted away from the man at her back, and pirate woman at her front, she’d be free in seconds. The general nodded. Good.
The man with the missing teeth urged her forward, his fingers tightening around her arms. Narra smoothed her expression and forced herself to take deep breaths.
The pirates led her down a set of wooden planks, into a narrow hall lit only by a single lantern. Shadows danced on the walls and through open doors. Several men leered from their cabins as they passed .
A wide oak door with a gold plated handle adorned the end of the short corridor. The clack of the pirate woman’s heels ceased as she unlocked her quarters. Warm light spilled from the open door. The large chamber beyond held maps from every part of the known world, and some of the unknown. The Rovan Empire, Talcotta, the Western Isles, the Kiznaiver Empire, the Wells, and Rupa.
Narra started. Rupa . At least a dozen maps of different Rupan cities decorated the walls and thick wooden desk at the center of the wide space. For years, stories of pirates had been spread in her uncle’s bar, but she’d yet to meet one. The southern continent was known for much; their exotic fruit, beautiful women, worship of animals, seven gods, and of course, pirates.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” The woman smiled, motioning to the thick red velvet curtains, plush purple silks, and delicately carved furniture. It wasn’t quite what Narra expected of a pirate captain’s quarters.
A growl rumbled from the back of the room, startling Narra. A large tiger prowled from the shadows. The pirate woman turned to Narra as she took her place behind the dark wood desk, not seeming bothered by the tiger roaming toward her. Her fingers splayed on the world map atop her desk, her nails clicking against the thick parchment. “I hear you’re looking for someone.”
Shadows hid the right side of her face, while the left teased with the quirk of her lips. She watched Narra beneath her lashes.
Narra glanced between the pirate and the tiger, unable to hide her surprise as the growling cat stopped at its master’s side. The pirate woman ran her fingers through the cat’s fur, shushing the beast gently until the growling stopped.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Narra decided it best not to argue with the pirate, lest she be eaten.
“Mikael Ruvand,” she said. She made a show of jostling her arms and shoulders. If the man at her back would release her she’d be able to have a real conversation with the pirate captain. She’d also have an easier time reaching her weapons in case of attack.
“Ah, Mikael.” The woman glanced at her shoulders for only the briefest of moments. “What do you want with the boy?”
Her fists clenched. Why did everyone insist on knowing her business? Yet, in the captain’s case, she couldn’t blame her. If the corporal were really one of her men, she’d most likely want to be sure he wouldn’t be harmed.
“I simply need information,” she said.
“Is that all?” The captain quirked a thick, arched brow.
“Yes.”
“How can I be sure you won’t slay him in his bed, and send him to meet your Goddess of Death?” Her thick accent—sweet and sexy—curled around her words.
She knew of Ashra? Narra blinked in surprise. She had never assumed Lady Death was popular amongst any culture but Rova’s. Rupa was known for its intellectuals instead of Warlords like the Rovan Empire. Even pirates must be educated.
“I won’t.” Narra had no way to convince this woman. There was nothing she could say, unless the captain had an idea of her own.
“How about you give me your name?” the pirate woman purred, stepping from behind the table. Her wide hips swayed under worn brown leather pants and tight belts as she approached. Her tiger followed, its green eyes narrowed, and its lips pulling back to reveal a terrifying amount of sharp teeth.
“Why?”
“If I know your name, I’ll be able to find you if Mikael goes missing.” The captain stopped a foot away and placed her hands on her hips. A corset wrapped from beneath her large breasts to her wide hips. The cat lowered its head, not taking its eyes off of Narra.
Narra narrowed her eyes. Was that all? If she
knew of Ashra, would she know more of Rova’s workings? Could she trust her with her name? Then again, she didn’t have much of a choice.
“Rheka,” she said.
The captain’s eyes lit with amusement and she chuckled softly. Her eyes roamed the uncloaked parts of Narra’s body—her thighs, hip, and chest. “Is that so?” Narra nodded. “I’d let you wreck me.”
Narra’s eyes went wide and heat flooded her cheeks. Who in Srah’ s name was this woman? The captain laughed at Narra’s reaction, stepping back and sweeping her large hat from her head. She ducked in a bow, dipping her hat and head low.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Rheka ,” she emphasized Narra’s last name, grinning as she returned to her feet. She tossed her hat onto the desk before leaning against it, crossing her arms over her chest. The tiger looked between them, its animosity fading. “You may call me Avalon, Captain of the Orillian Armada.”
Narra’s brows cinched. The name was familiar, though she couldn’t place her finger on why. Avalon flicked her fingers at the man restraining Narra’s arms. He released her with a grunt, stepping back to guard the door. Narra twisted her wrists and shook out her limbs to ease the tension in her muscles.
“You want something from me,” Avalon began, “then I have something to ask of you.”
“What is it?” Narra narrowed her gaze. She didn’t generally take requests from those she just met, unless a pre-approved contract from the Guild slid into her hands. How could she trust this woman? Though she had her name, title, and occupation, she had no idea if the pirate captain would keep her word.
“Have you heard of the Dollhouse?”
“No.”
Avalon smiled. “That’s all right. I’m sure your friend above deck will know it.” She brushed long black curls behind her ear, revealing a dozen golden hoops and ruby stones decorating her ear. “I need you to speak with Mistress Maxina, the caretaker of the establishment. I’d go myself, but the mistress is well protected, and someone like me won’t be able to get passed her bodyguards.” Avalon paused, her gaze again raking Narra’s exposed hips. “She has a potion I need, and I won’t leave the empire without it.” Her smile faded, her thick lips pressed together. The playful glint in her eyes faded to hard black.
The tiger shifted to rest its head against Avalon’s leg, as if sensing her change in mood. Its chest rumbled as Avalon glanced down and started petting her giant cat.
“Shh, Kaja,” she murmured .
The boat rocked beneath her feet, and Narra shifted, both with uncertainty and to keep her footing. Avalon’s sudden shift in temperament soured Narra’s stomach. Her fingers pulled away from her weapons. She had no desire to hurt this woman. Yet, she’d only be wasting more time in completing the pirate’s errands. Narra sighed. If this was the only way to get her information and get to Mikael, she had no other choice.
“It’s a deal.”
The pirate woman smiled, though the devious glint never returned to her eyes. “It’s a deal,” she agreed.
Narra’s boots slapped the worn wood as she mounted the small staircase to the deck of the ship. Four pirates started to attention.
“Release him,” she commanded.
Asher looked up. They had him on his knees, tied beside the main mast. Though he didn’t appear injured, he scowled something fierce. She hoped the pirates hadn’t been too hard on him while she was gone, though if they had, it might teach him not to hang around her much longer.
“Do as she says,” Avalon said. She emerged onto the deck, hat back on her head and a hand on her hip.
Avalon’s men leapt into motion, quickly cutting Asher’s restraints and yanking him to his feet. Asher pulled away, glaring at the two who had subdued him. Before Narra reached the plank to the dock below, Avalon’s husky purr stopped her.
“I’ll see you soon,” the captain said. Narra glanced at the Rupan woman over her shoulder. She gave a brisk nod.
Asher stomped down the dock after her, his steps even louder than before. The wharf quaked and shifted in the water, nearly sending her off balance. Her heart leapt into her throat. She regained her footing, jumping off the dock onto solid ground.
Instead of glaring at the man, she continued down the harborside. Her fists clenched at her hips. A storm came to life inside her. Why did every person in her life insist on making things more difficult? Why did no one listen to her? Though she didn’t need Asher’s help, he insisted in his debt. Though she only wanted the location of Avalon’s crewmember, the pirate insisted on sending Narra on an errand—a useless one—that served the thief no purpose.
Now to complete Marina’s task and her mission, Narra had to find this Dollhouse, acquire a potion, return to get the whereabouts of Mikael from the pirates, and then actually find the man. Once he was found, she still needed to find out what exactly he’d been guarding, and somehow deliver information back to Marina. Hopefully, she’d get answers about her father in the process.
“What happened?” Asher asked. He jogged to keep up with her.
Narra shook her head. She clamped her teeth shut.
Commanders are always calm, Narra .
She squeezed her eyes closed. She didn’t need her father’s voice anymore. Yet his words only sparked her fire.
“Rheka!” Asher snapped. His warm fingers clamped around her wrist, and he spun her around.
Narra gritted her teeth. She yanked a dagger from her waist before she knew what she was doing. Tearing from his grip, she held the blade to his throat. The general’s eyes widened as he met her gaze.
Her breaths came quickly, only fanning the flames. “Do not touch me.”
Asher nodded slowly. “Fine. Apologies.”
His brown gaze softened. She pulled away. Whatever he was feeling, she didn’t want to see it. His eyes expressed too much and pulled her own feelings out too quickly.
Narra sheathed her dagger.
“We need to find the Dollhouse,” she said.
Though her heart still raced, her mind cleared. Good. She didn’t want the tempest anymore. She needed to think, to form a plan. She clung to the surrounding darkness. Though a nearby lamppost illuminated them both, shadows rose on either side of the docks, thick and black at the warehouse’s edge.
“The Dollhouse?” Asher blanched. So he did know what it was. “Why?”
Narra shrugged. “Avalon wants a potion from Mistress Maxina. She’ll give information on the soldier in exchange.”
Understanding blossomed on his face. “That makes sense.”
Did it? She hadn’t a clue what any of this meant. “Where is it?”
“Shopping district.” His eyes roamed her from head to toe. “You won’t be getting in dressed like that.” He nodded at her cloak and daggers.
Her mouth dropped open. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” Her voice rose. She extended her cloak, the fabric sleek between her fingers. She always wore it and her weapons. She wouldn’t go anywhere without her daggers.
“The Dollhouse is for… upper class.” He spoke slowly, deliberately. Was he trying not to offend her?
“And?”
“You don’t look like… the expected clientele.”
Asher shifted, avoiding her gaze. She may have found his sudden embarrassment amusing if it weren’t for his insinuations. “And what does this expected clientele look like?” She crossed her arms over her chest. She may look like a thief or an assassin, dressed in black and leather, but wearing a skirt and corset wouldn’t lend her any intimidation.
He paused, his gaze lingering on her hair. Was he concerned that she was half-Kiznai? If that was a problem, she’d be happy to break in and hold Maxina at knifepoint to get what she wanted.
“Typically… it is where men take their mistresses.”
Oh. Narra’s eyes widened. So, if she wanted to gain access to the Dollhouse, her only way to gain further information on Mikael, she’d have to play a harlot? Narra shook her head.
“We can break in. There’s
no need to go in through the front door.” Her cheeks heated.
Asher smiled. How dare he be amused by her discomfort? “They have very good security, especially at the back entrance. Mistress Maxina is a very rich woman. She employs only the best.”
“And you assume I would be no match?” Now she was offended .
“No, no.” Asher raised his hands in surrender. “But maybe it would be simpler to go in the front, pretend you belong, and then ask politely for this potion.”
Narra narrowed her eyes. He could be right. Either she staked out the Dollhouse until she found a way in; skirted security and patrons until she found Maxina—if she could find her. Or she demeaned herself by becoming Asher’s pretend mistress for the night.
She growled in frustration. “Is there truly no other way?”
Asher smiled and shrugged. “It won’t be so terrible.”
“What in Srah’s name am I supposed to wear then?” She glared at the general. With her wanted poster all over the city she couldn’t very well go shopping in the morning. She could steal a dress, but then again, she had no idea what she was looking for. Narra had never worn a dress in her life. Then there was the problem of her face plastered all over the city. Someone could recognize it. Maybe she could borrow makeup from a fellow thief.
His brown eyes roamed the featureless stone wall of a warehouse nearby as he thought. Narra studied the stubble marking his jaw. Long pointed hairs stuck out, even in the dim light. Had he not shaved since the night she’d broken into his home?
“My seamstress,” he said. His gaze met hers. “She doesn’t ask questions, and would clear the store if I asked. I can take you tomorrow evening. She owns her own shop and could fix any dress you like from her collection. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
Narra raised her brows. “Why would she do that for you ?”
Asher leveled his gaze at her. “I am the General of the Emperor’s Armies.”
Right. Narra nodded. She’d nearly forgotten.
They agreed to meet at dusk, when the light played tricks and Narra could seamlessly blend with the shadows. Her hips were light without her pistol, short sword and daggers. She carried no utility belt or harness, only taking time to strap in a few smaller knives to her thighs and inner arms. At least those she could conceal beneath a dress—or so she hoped.
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