Chapter 6
Islam the door shut and sink against it, tilting my head back. The pirate’s clothes lay leaden in my arms, damp and reeking of spilled ale.
“Briar?”
I flinch and ball the clothes against my chest. “Thea? You should be at dinner.”
“You were gone so long. I got worried, so I came to check on you.” She eyes the clothes, the hat pinned beneath my arm, the water stains along the hem of my dress. A brow lifts. “Where have you been?”
I gnaw on the end of my thumbnail. In the years I’ve been stealing jewels, Thea never threatened to tell Caelus. Whether it’s for the greater good, or because something deep in her soul recognizes mine, I’m unsure.
This—impersonating a pirate for a deadly competition—might be the final thing she cannot tolerate.
I glance at the clock, the minutes quickly ticking closer to midnight. Only one way to find out.
I swallow. “Thea?”
“Yes?”
“I need your help.”
The groove between her brows deepens. “What is it?”
“Have you seen Marianne and Gemma?”
“Just a few moments ago, heading to their quarters. Why?”
I drag a hand down my face. The more people I pull in, the riskier it gets. But I have no other choice. “Can you get them, please?”
She steps closer, and the lantern’s glow catches the side of her face. “Why do you need them?”
“I’ll explain later. I promise.”
She hesitates, but she must read the desperation in my eyes, and lets out a long, weighted sigh. “Okay, but I don’t like this.”
“Thank you,” I breathe.
With a final assessing look, she crosses the room and slips through the servant’s door tucked into the back.
I kick off my shoes and unbutton the back of my dress, letting it pool on the floor. Unlacing my corset, I yank it off and suck in a deep breath, my aching lungs expanding after being constricted all day.
I drag my gaze over the wrinkled clothing.
The dark alley concealed the stains marring the front of the shirt and the seams unraveling at the cuff of the pants.
I grimace, but lift the shirt and thread it over my head.
The sleeves billow around my wrists, ending in a fitted cuff.
I fold down the collar, tightening the strings laced through the neckline.
I slip my legs into the pants and shove the shirt into the waistband. Nothing fits quite right, but Marianne can fix that. If she agrees to help.
The steady ticking of the clock fills the room, and I glance at the servant’s door. Thea should be back by now.
Leaning over the loveseat, I snatch the hat and press it onto my head. Folded up on each side and forming a rounded point, it doesn’t do much to hide my face. But with Gemma’s help—
“What the fuck is this?”
I whirl. Thea stands, wide-eyed in the narrow servant’s entrance with Marianne and Gemma peering over her shoulder. My stomach churns at the tone of her voice, the bite of her words.
Squaring my shoulders, I step toward her. “I’m entering the competition, but I can’t as staff, so—”
She crosses the room and halts a foot away from me. Tugging on the loose strings of my collar, she huffs. “Have you completely lost it?” She shakes her head. “You’re not entering this competition.”
I lower my voice. “If I win, I get granted a wish.”
“And what could you possibly want so bad you’re willing to risk your life?”
I pinch my bottom lip between my fingers. Wishes are notoriously fickle, and if I don’t ask for specifically what I need, it could backfire. Wish for my freedom, and I could touch the ocean again, but my power may not return. Ask for my power back, and I may still be landlocked.
In either scenario, I risk leaving Thea and my crew cursed.
I swallow, and just above a whisper, say, “A ship.”
“A ship?” Her eyes search mine. “But you don’t know how to sail a ship.”
I press my tongue into my cheek. If only she knew. I pin her with a glare, my eyes blazing with the ferocity of a captain. Her captain. “I’m not asking for permission.”
She folds her arms over her chest. For a heartbeat, I see my first mate and the fight brewing skin-deep. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Think about it. I won’t have to work with Cassio anymore, and I won’t have to be a courtesan. Neither would you. We could sail around the world and be free.”
“I don’t want to sail around the world.”
My lip quirks. “I think you’ll say differently when I win. And when I do, I’m naming you my first mate.”
“This isn’t a joke, Briar.”
My mouth tilts into a full grin. “It certainly isn’t.”
Marianne steps around Thea, her long red hair burning like flames against her pale blue dress. The royal seamstress. She circles me, rubbing the thin fabric of my shirt between her fingers.
“You’re asking us to commit treason.” She props her chin in her hand. “What’s stopping us from turning you in right now?”
My tongue turns to cotton, but I harden my gaze. “Have you forgotten about that friend of yours from the slums that I saved from execution? I’m cashing in the favor you owe me.”
Her lips part, then close.
Gemma angles herself between her sister and me, her eyes narrowing as a glossy black sheet of hair falls over her face. “Did Caelus put you up to this? Test our loyalty and risk our power being stripped?”
“Gemma,” Marianne whispers, setting a palm on her shoulder.
She brushes off the touch. “We can’t trust anyone in this castle, Mar. She’s his favorite. She’ll turn us in, and—”
“I would never. I want to win to be free of him, and I can’t do it without your help.” I step closer and soften my voice. “Please.”
Unflinching, Gemma glares at me—searching and assessing every plane of my face.
“Gemma,” Marianne whispers. “She’s telling the truth.”
“How can you be sure?” Gemma says.
Marianne smiles at me. “It’s in her eyes, the same look you get when you talk about freedom. We want the same thing.” She looks to her sister and tilts her chin. “Show her, Gem.”
“Are you sure you trust them?”
She nods. “I do.”
Gemma releases a long breath and turns toward Thea and me. “If either of you mutter a word about this, I will kill you. Understand?”
Thea’s eyes widen, and I nod. “You can trust us.”
Gemma swallows and shuts her eyes. When she reopens them, the blue has vanished, replaced with a brown so dark it’s nearly black. My breath catches, and I glance to Marianne. Like her sister’s, her eyes morph to a warm brown.
“You’re glamoured,” I breathe.
Small changes, but enough to hide their identities.
Gemma nods. “We served King Golan until Sarenia fell. When Caelus took over, he pulled aside the staff who had power and executed them. We were young and, by some miracle, Marianne and I were never found, even as dozens of our friends and family lost their lives.” Her voice wavers.
“So, I’ve glamoured us ever since, and when we inquired about working in the castle, he hired us and gifted us with some of Isolde’s power. ”
I run my teeth over my bottom lip.
If they knew who I really am—partly the reason their court fell into the hands of Caelus—they’d never help me. An ache spreads across my chest, and I swallow. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
A shadow passes over her face, and the lantern lights the bob of her throat.
“We’ll help however we can,” Marianne says. Turning to Gemma, she nods. “You go first, then I’ll do the alterations.”
Gemma strides forward and removes my hat, setting it on the edge of the bed. She cups my head in her hands and turns it side to side. “My power weakens when I glamour someone this much, for this long.”
I glance at Thea out of the corner of my eye. She sits on the edge of her bed and stares at the night sky through the window. She won’t look at me, but I spot the tremble in her lip and the way her fingers shake in her lap. She’s not angry—she’s terrified.
But if she remembered who she was, I wouldn’t be signing up alone.
“Close your eyes and picture who you want to look like,” Gemma says. “The more detail, the better. Ready?”
I nod and close my eyes, picturing the bounty hunter with her blonde hair brushing her shoulders, the raised curve of her nose, the harsh arch of her cheekbones. She was taller, narrower. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hold the image in place, almost as if she were real and standing before me.
Not lying lifeless at the bottom of the channel I rolled her into.
“Good,” Gemma whispers.
There’s a prick of pressure, and her magic slides into me like a silk ribbon. It’s not painful, but there’s an unpleasant tug—followed by a shift of muscle and bone.
Her power migrates to the top of my head, and the weight of my hair lessens, reeled in strand by strand. The ribbons skate over the back of my scalp, sinking into my throat and shifting my jawline before traveling down my spine.
My bones grind as they’re tugged apart, pushed closer. I grit my teeth against the pain, steadying my breaths as my body rearranges and takes on the shape of the woman in my head.
Then, as if it never existed, Gemma’s power vanishes.
She drops her hands from my face. “All done.”
I turn to the mirror, and my eyes widen at my reflection—the stranger staring back. Swallowing, I run my hand across my jaw. My eyelashes remain the same, but she lightened my eyes. They’re no longer the exact color of the ocean, but an electric, cutting blue.
My hair, usually falling to the swell of my waist, now brushes the top of my shoulders, blonde and straight. I’m about half a foot taller than I was before, yet every movement is natural and familiar.
Gemma combs her fingers through my hair. “It only lasts a couple of hours, but if I can see you, I can maintain the glamour. However, if it fades completely, I’ll have to touch you to place it again.”
Marianne appears behind me, lip pinched between her teeth. “There’s not much I need to do, but hold still.”
Her gaze settles on my shirt, and the material shifts. Tightening, it hugs my torso, and the cuffs shorten until they rest comfortably at each wrist.
“A ship, huh?” She straightens the top over my shoulders and restitches the loose threads. “You could wish for anything in the world, and that’s what you’d choose?”
She lowers her eyes to my pants, and in an instant, the waistband snaps in. The hem shortens until it kisses the tops of my boots.
“I want nothing but to feel the ocean air on my face. A deck beneath my feet.” My chest tightens. This is the first time I’ve uttered those words to someone who will remember them. “If I win—”
“When you win,” she says, holding my gaze. Her hair is a flash of red in the mirror as she turns away, and within moments, she’s finished. “Ocean air sounds lovely. In fact, I think I’d love to sail around the world one day.”
My chest warms, and she joins her sister at the foot of the bed.
“Briar,” Thea says, her voice soft. Unsure.
“Yes?”
She rises and stops an arm’s length away.
“Dinner will be over any minute, so I’ll go distract Caelus before he comes looking for you.
” She takes another step and pauses. “But, for the record, I think this is a stupid decision. You could be killed, or worse. So, for the sake of my sanity, please don’t die. ”
I tuck a braid behind her ear. “This will change our lives. I promise.”
Her gaze searches mine, like she can’t quite trust my words. But I’d never lie to her.
“Good luck,” she whispers.
Marianne hands me the pirate hat. “Go through the servant’s doors. If the guards see a pirate running through the castle, you’ll be arrested.”
I stride to the small door nestled in the back of the room. Turning on my heel, I nod at the three of them. “Thank you. All of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
Gemma pins me with a hard look. “Win, then we’ll talk.”