Chapter 20
“Captain!” shouted one of Carolina’s crew as she sat playing a game of dice with Berkeley on main deck. Frona jogged up to them, saying, “We’ve spotted the Iron Sands.”
Carolina was on her feet instantly, and Berkeley stayed on her heels as she rushed to the bow of the ship. It was still difficult to spot. The nomads’ encampment was small, with no more than a hundred people and no large or discernable structures, but if she looked closely, there were tents. Then drakens, and then people, more and more of them accumulating as Omen neared to stare up at the ship. And as Omen reached the outskirts of the camp, there was a mixture of curiosity and hostility on the Iron Sands’ faces.
The hull of her ship settled onto the surface with a soft thud, and she paced to the ramp as some of her crew lowered it to the ground. She had her daggers and pistol at her belt, but she descended with as open and nonthreatening a posture as she could, even though it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. As she reached the ground with Ophelia, Berkeley, and Rue right behind her, she was met with the open end of several gun barrels and the snarls of at least six draken.
She lifted her hands and offered a smile. “Are you the Iron Sands?”
“Who’s asking?” one man asked. He was older, in his early to mid-fifties, maybe, but still looked to be in the prime of his life. He had short gray hair and a long gray beard. His arms were thick, his chest thicker amidst the dragon scale armor he was wearing over his torso, and the spear he was aiming at her looked as sharp as the teeth of the draken he was riding.
“My name is Carolina Trace,” she told him, “I was hop- ”
“You’d best think twice before letting anyone else off your ship, pirate,” he interrupted.
“We’re not here to rob you,” she assured him, “or threaten you, or do anything of the sort. On the contrary, I’m here for help.”
His brow furrowed, and he stared her down for almost a minute before he lowered his spear. “With what?”
“I heard there’s a group of Collectors who stay with you.”
He grunted and said, “It’s not the season.”
“If you would just let me speak with them,” she implored.
“You know what would happen if Sovereign found out we gave laibralt to a pirate?” he asked, his voice gravelly and threatening. “Especially you, Trace.”
“It’s not for fighting Sovereign,” she told him. “It’s not for any weapon or for hurting anyone.”
“Get back on your ship,” he commanded.
And before she could plead with him to reconsider, another man stepped forward out of the crowd. “I’ll speak with her, Thael,” he said.
He was at least ten years younger than Thael, with dark brown hair that reached his ears and a shadow of hair on his face. He was tall and lean, with a long scar across the right side of his jaw, and though he was missing his left arm, she didn’t doubt his prowess by the way he twirled the pistol in his right hand and dropped it straight into its holster. He also must’ve been the leader of the Collectors, because when he stepped forward, so did several others.
“Nix Claiborne,” he introduced, holding his hand out to her.
“Carolina,” she said, shaking with him.
“Nix,” Thael growled quietly.
Nix turned, striding up to the draken Thael was on and patting the creature’s neck. “Thael,” he returned teasingly.
Thael leaned down from his saddle, saying quietly, “Don’t let your curiosity bring us trouble.”
“Don’t worry,” Nix said, scratching the draken’s chin. “I’m only going to hear her out.”
Thael grunted again, and Nix returned to Carolina and gestured toward the ramp. “Shall we?”
She hadn’t been expecting anyone to feel comfortable getting on her ship, but she nodded through the surprise and led all six of the Collectors up the ramp. Her own cabin wasn’t big enough for everyone, so she guided the way below deck and to the galley, where she and Nix sat across from each other. Ophelia took a seat at her side, but Berkeley, Rue, and the other five Collectors all stood around the table, refusing to let their guards down.
“Thank you,” she told Nix, “for agreeing to talk to me.”
“You’re not the first pirate to come looking for laibralt,” he answered, scratching the stubble beneath the scar on his jaw. “But you are the first who’s said they don’t want it for a weapon.”
“I don’t,” she confirmed.
“What’s it for, then?” he asked. She pursed her lips reluctantly. “Thael was right about what Sovereign would do if they caught us giving laibralt to anyone but them,” he told her. “I made the mistake of alerting Sovereign to the Iron Sands’ existence, and they’re hostage now to Sovereign’s desire for it. If I’m going to consider helping you in any way, then I’m going to need honesty.”
She sighed heavily, lifted her arm, and pushed back the sleeve of her shirt to reveal the manacle.
Nix recognized it as laibralt instantly, and his eyebrows met as he said, “I’m listening.”
“I’m cursed,” she told him, “and the reversal requires the same mineral it was cast with.”
“Cursed by a Caster,” he said, sounding almost amused as he looked around at Ophelia, Berkeley, and Rue. “Is the same Caster going to un do it?” None of them answered, but he was sharp, and after a few moments, asked the others, “Which one of you is it?”
Carolina wasn’t going to reveal that to him unless he left her no choice, but Ophelia said, “Me.”
Nix’s head cocked, and he looked back and forth between her and Ophelia for several long moments, and she had no doubt that he was making his own assumptions about their relationship. Whatever conclusion he came to, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he asked Ophelia, “Where did you get it?”
“I stole it,” she answered, “from the sanctuary at Harcam.”
He grinned, looked at Carolina again, and laughed, “You really pissed her off, eh?”
All she gave was an unamused hum.
“Look,” Nix said, ceasing his laugh but still with a smirk on his face, “I’m entertained,” and he looked at Ophelia, “and I admire your boldness,” his eyes returned to Carolina, “and I believe you. But I’m afraid we don’t have any laibralt. ”
“Would you point us to the nearest dragon territory?” she asked. “So we can find some of our own?”
Three of the other Collectors snorted while one of them burst out laughing, and though Nix waved at them to stop, they were still snickering silently to themselves.
“Even if I was willing to share some of our business with you,” he told her, “it’s not the season.”
She tried not to sound frustrated when she said, “I don’t know what that means.”
He gave her an almost sympathetic smile. “When we search for laibralt, it’s during the dragons’ mating cycle. Females are mostly apathetic toward anything non-threatening, and males, while territorial, are fat and slow from the off-season.”
“The off-season?” she asked.
“The off-season is when the males are hunting for themselves and their mate, and female dragons are fiercely protective of their egg or offspring. It lasts until the young dragon hatches and is old enough to go out on its own.”
“How long is that?”
“Three years,” Nix answered, “we search for it every fourth. It’s half the reason laibralt is so rare.”
“How much longer until the off-season is over?”
“Two years.”
“Is the entire species in season at the same time?” she asked.
“Around here,” he said, “they are.”
She sighed, setting her elbows on the table to rest her chin on her thumbs and think. Two years was too long when she was so, so close to breaking the curse. The risk was worth it to her, but would the others do it? She glanced back at Berkeley, who read her questioning gaze and nodded, and then did the same to Rue, who also nodded.
“We’d search for it anyway,” she told Nix.
He huffed a laugh of disbelief, and then stared at her dumbly for several seconds. “You’re serious?” he asked. She nodded. “It’s not a matter of if you come across a dragon. The laibralt on their horns is sensitive. They’ll feel your footsteps on the ground, and in this season, they will come to find you.”
“Then we’ll have to be fast. ”
He scoffed, sitting there in disbelief for almost a minute before shaking his head. “You’re crazy, and I do like that about you, but every ounce of laibralt you take now is an ounce less for us to find in two years.”
Carolina hummed, thought about it for a moment, and then leaned to Ophelia, whispering in her ear, “How many ounces of laibralt do you need for the reversal?”
“I don’t know,” Ophelia whispered back, “three?”
To Nix, she asked, “How much does an ounce of laibralt sell for?”
“Four thousand,” he answered.
“And how big are the pieces you find, on average?”
He nodded side to side and then said, “Six to eight ounces.”
“I see,” she murmured. “And how much would it sell for in the off-season?”
He squinted at her curiously, as if trying to predict what she was getting at as he answered, “Triple.”
“Uh huh,” she said, and leaned toward him. “We only need three ounces.”
One of his eyebrows lifted. “Are you proposing what I think you are?”
“If you tell us where to go,” she confirmed, “you can have the rest of what we find.”
He chuckled, “You’re insane, Carolina Trace.”
“I’m desperate,” she corrected, “and I’ll find it whether you help me or not, but your familiarity would make sure this went as smoothly as possible.”
“Right,” he agreed, looking her over thoughtfully. “But accepting these terms would require I accompany you, so that you don’t make off with the excess.”
“Or you could trust me,” she told him.
“I don’t,” he said with a friendly smile, “not like that.” He studied her intently for a minute more before finally pointing at Ophelia and asking, “Is she coming?”
And while she said, “No,” Ophelia said, “Yes.”
“ Yes ,” Ophelia emphasized, nearly glaring at her.
Carolina turned toward her, leaning in to say, “No, you’re not, it’s too dangerous.”
“And you’re still recovering from a concussion,” Ophelia countered quietly .
“Ophelia,” she said impatiently, “I thought I lost you in Trayward, and I will not let that happen again.”
“Well, I watched you fall from the sky,” Ophelia argued, “and I’ll be damned if you get eaten by a dragon because I wasn’t there to help.” Carolina growled her annoyance, and Ophelia added, “If I die, you’re free anyway.”
“ You are not dying for this ,” she said.
Nix cleared his throat to interrupt them. “Either way, I need to convince Thael to let us go.”
“If he doesn’t?” Carolina asked.
“Then you’re on your own,” he said. “Wait on your ship, I’ll come back when I have an answer.”
Carolina nodded, and looked back at Berkeley and Rue to ask, “Will you see them off?”
They led the Collectors out of the galley, so that Carolina and Ophelia were the only two left in the room. They were still sitting side by side, staring straight ahead for a minute without looking at each other.
Eventually, Carolina took in a breath and began to say, “I still don’t lik-”
“You don’t get to decide,” Ophelia interrupted.
Carolina sighed, and though she knew that Ophelia wanted to avoid as much emotion as she could, she admitted, “I’m afraid to lose you.”
“I know,” Ophelia murmured. She inhaled deeply and then forced that breath out through pursed lips, still without looking over at her. “Do you understand why that’s frustrating to me?”
Carolina swallowed down the pang in her chest as she nodded. There was nothing else to say about it then, Ophelia was coming to help them search, and all they could do was wait.
It took over an hour after Carolina and Ophelia returned to main deck to wait for Nix, during which she paced from bow to stern in her impatience for an answer. Eventually, Nix came back up the ramp, and stopped at the top of it while she and the others hurried to him.
He looked at each of them, and then back at Carolina and grinned. “Let’s go find some laibralt.”