“You know these men, Moss?” Ravesley calls warily.
“Oh, we’ve met before,” I say. “When he threw us to the dogs to save his own skin.” My hand drifts to my blade, enjoying seeing a bead of sweat form on Moss’s forehead.
“Well, we all make mistakes, gentlemen,” Ravesley slowly scales the gangplank. The rest of my unit close in behind him while the crewmen on deck go tense, hands drifting to what I imagine is all manner of concealed weapons. “I’m sure Moss regrets having to leave you in the lurch, don’t you, Moss?”
The smuggler’s eyes flick between us and his captain.
“I do. It was a bastard thing to do. I’m sorry, gents, and also to you, miss.”
He nods toward Ana, who’s watching with a neutral expression—taking everything in, giving nothing away. It’s a valuable skill.
“I ended up with a pretty nasty burn on my foot because of you,” she says mildly. “Those cleavers don’t pull their punches.”
“You messed up, Moss,” Ravesley says. “Going and getting a nice girl banged up like that.”
I throw Alastor a look. This is a lot of theatrics for our benefit without an ounce of real remorse. I’m sure the captain’s hoping we’ll look past this misdemeanor and continue with our planned trip, allowing him to keep all the coin he’s been paid to take us.
“Oh, miss, I’m terribly sorry, truly I am,” Moss says. I don’t think he realized we were fae in the tunnels—too panicked to understand what Alastor’s magic did to him—so for now at least he thinks we’re as human as she is.
“Well,” Ana says, raising an eyebrow at me. “What are you going to do with him?”
I draw my sword, and a dozen hands draw weapons that were hidden a moment ago. The blood rapidly drains from Moss’s face as he realizes the danger he’s in.
“A foot for a foot?” I ask Ana thoughtfully. Poised to defend their crewmate, the smugglers throw questioning looks at their captain. Moss whimpers beside me.
Ana huffs and rolls her eyes.
“You’re right. Too much.” I sheathe my sword and clap a relieved Moss heavily on the shoulder. “Apology accepted. But let’s be clear, if you eventhinkabout betraying us again…”
“Don’t worry about that, sir,” says Ravesley, who kept his cool through the moment of tension. “My crew will follow my orders, and we’ll be sure to get you to your destination safe and sound.”
“And what are a bunch of smugglers like you going to do if the Temple comes sniffing round again?” Alastor asks. “Because you didn’t seem to have a great handle on the situation under the mountains.”
Ravesley’s face grows harder at the insult. “Things are different on the rivers. I know these waterways like the back of my hand, and our papers are the best you’ll see this side of Elmere. No one—Temple or otherwise—will be boarding my boat without my say-so.”
I know he’s telling the truth even without Alastor’s magic.
“Very well, Captain Ravesley, let’s not waste any more of your time,” I say. My unit put their weapons away, and the smugglers follow suit.
One of them—a stout woman with several gold teeth—shows us down to the cabins. As we descend, the crew release the moorings, and a waft of aesteri magic fills out the sails as the boat creaks into motion.
I watch Ana as we move beneath the main deck, her hips swaying as she navigates around a beam, a hand coming out to steady herself. All I have to do is look in her direction, and I find my blood heating. Now we’ll be traveling in even closer quarters, and I wonder if I’ll be able to escape her—the hunger she conjures in me—long enough to think.
I took Ana as my hostage, but now it’s she who’s holdingmecaptive, in mind and body.
I’ll have to find ways to clear my head in the next week, because between now and the border, I have to make some decisions. They’re hard choices, but then I’m used to those—used to riding into battle without a look back. So why am I so full of doubts now? They follow me around, as impossible to ignore as that pair of fierce hazel eyes.
Chapter26
Morgana
Leon hasn’t come out of his cabin for hours, leaving me and his soldiers to hang around below deck. I’d be insulted by the sudden cold shoulder if he hadn’t still been blatantly flirting with me this morning. Whatever has gotten him in a distant mood must be one of the various mysterious things he won’t share with me.
I’m not sure if that’s much better.
While Phaia tucks herself up in a hammock to sleep, Stratton produces a pack of cards and entices Alastor and Damia to play with him.
“And what about you, Your Highness? Ever played a round of four-man blind?”