Chapter 6
Six
Stone
It wasn’t necessarily the Commander’s presence on the ship that bothered Stone, but more so what she stood for. A reminder of who he’d made a deal with.
The royal crown of Vargah.
News would spread to the Outpost that he was a sellout.
Working for the very people they’d resented their entire lives.
Royals. Living in excess, bathing in astra and water like it was luxury.
As if people didn’t die for the goddess they worshiped.
Weren’t slaughtered on stage while a crowd cheered.
Stone picked up the last of the rations and made his way below deck, setting it on a counter to sort through later. Aesira had gotten distracted by her knight, Stone hadn’t caught her name, and he was grateful for a few minutes alone without her breathing down his neck.
“Stoney.”
So much for a moment alone.
He fucking hated that nickname, but considering Birdie was the only one who used it, he let it slide. She set down a matching crate on the counter and crossed her arms.
“Provisions?” He nodded at her crate. Her dark eyes narrowed as she swept a lock of silky blonde hair away from her hollowed cheeks.
“Yes,” she said. “The queen was generous.” She plucked an overripe plum from the crate and juggled it between her hands. “She’ll be disappointed to find out this all goes to waste considering the likelihood we live long enough to eat it.”
Stone leaned against the wooden counter. He knew out of the crew, Birdie would be the most difficult to convince of his plan. But that’s why he loved her. She was sharp, lethal, and the only one who called him on his shit.
“I told you last night, the amount she offered to pay us will change everything, Bird,” he said. She tossed the fruit again, but he snatched it from the air before she could catch it and took a bite. “Look how much it’s already changed, you’re out aren’t you?”
A smirk tilted up her thin lips. “You should have consulted us first,” she said. “We always have a choice, remember?” He froze mid-bite, the soft flesh of the fruit sweet on his tongue. He hadn’t expected her to use his own words against him. He chewed slowly, buying himself time.
Of course they always had a choice. He made sure of it, especially after their days of smuggling came to an abrupt halt.
Growing up without a say in how they chose to live their lives, who they worked for.
That was the one thing he swore to do differently when they got out of the Outpost. Out from under Vic’s pressing thumb.
“Cut him some slack.”
Salvation had a name and it was Bee Odega. Bee shot Stone a wink before she wrapped her arms around Birdie, tugging her close.
“Bee,” he said her name like it was a refuge and in some ways it was. Her smile grew, dimpling her umber cheeks. “Your hair,” Stone said. “I like it shorter.”
“You can compliment the guards for their craftsmanship.” Bee ran a steady hand over her head, the dark hair shorn close to her scalp.
“They shaved it nearly clean.” Bee turned to Birdie and kissed her, quick and expected like they’d done a hundred times before, but this time with a small pause when Birdie pulled away.
A hesitation that made Stone question whether he should let them have some privacy, considering they’ve been apart for several months.
“Now, you two were discussing the…” Bee glanced up the stairwell, where heavy footsteps and bustling people still carried about.
“The agreement?” she whispered. Birdie’s face had softened as it always did when Bee was around, but as soon as the words were suspended between them, her eyes shot daggers in Stone’s direction.
“Yes,” Birdie said, “the agreement he conveniently didn’t have time to tell us about last night.”
Oh he had the time, but he figured the element of surprise was the only way to get them on board with two royal knights joining their crew. “Had too much to drink,” he said, “it slipped my mind.”
Birdie punched his shoulder. “Bullshit.”
“Well if it isn’t my favorite criminals? Who’s the most hungover?” The deep rumbling of Patch’s voice nearly shook the crates on the counter. “Stone?” He slapped Stone’s back, a broad smile stretched over his lips. “You look like shit,” he said. “I think you win.”
“Fuck off.” Stone slapped his hand away but a smile bloomed across his mouth.
He'd been out for six months, which only meant that the rest of them had spent that much longer in prison and that fact ate at him everyday. Maybe his plan was shit, maybe it wouldn’t work with the knights here, but he got them out and for now he could at least be thankful they were all together again.
“Rule number one,” Birdie bellowed from her small frame, hands on her hips.
“Here we go.” Stone buried his face in a cupboard, pretending to sort through their provisions.
“Any decision that impacts the cadre must be voted on and passed unanimously,” she said.
Stone could admit he’d fucked that one up, but seeing them all together, on a ship no less, solidified his decision to break the rule.
The queen’s offer was too good to pass up and despite Birdie’s frustration, he knew she’d see his reasoning sooner or later.
“Birdie–”
“The second,” she said, ignoring Bee, “no matter what, we always have each other's backs. We don’t leave anyone behind.”
“Aye,” said Patch, nudging Stone’s shoulder.
The second rule, Birdie failed to understand, was one of the most important reasons he insisted to the queen he needed them.
If one of them was in trouble, someone would come.
No questions asked. That’s why he demanded their release.
They were in trouble, and he came to them.
“The third and most relevant rule,” Birdie said, closing in on him. Stone’s grip froze around a pack of dried meat. “No outsiders.”
He turned to face Birdie. His best friend. A dedicated pain in his ass. “I didn’t have a choice in them coming, Bird.”
She crossed her arms, tilting her head to meet Stone’s gaze. “I’d bet you didn’t protest it.”
“Against the queen?” Bee slid her hand into Birdie’s. “Come on, Birdie, what would you have done?”
Patch adjusted the eyepatch, his good eye bright and shining. His dark hair had grown longer, he wore it tied back, low at his neck, showing his matching star tattoo along with several others he’d acquired during his smuggling years. “Tell us more about the mission, boss.”
Stone hated when he called him that, but he understood it. In the Outpost, Stone led the three of them as runners. They worked together, lived together, they trusted Stone then and for some reason they still trusted him now.
“Not much more to tell.” Stone shrugged. “We find the king, bring him home, and you assholes are pardoned.” He turned to Birdie and gave his brightest smile. “You’re welcome.”
“Everything is so easy for the notorious Stone Odega.” Birdie shook her head. “We have a lot of terrain to cross. Plus, do you really think showing your face in the Outpost is going to be smooth as silk?”
“Sometimes the risk is worth the reward, Bird,” Stone said. “That’s the case now. Plus, like you said, I’m notorious for a reason.” He picked up a crate from the floor and shoved it into her hands. “I’ll get us through.”
Everything he told the queen and her sister was true.
He had flown the most miles of any current living pilot in Vargah.
He had heard of Ravki and dragons. He had seen the words Lunaris and Whispering Mountains more than once in various books he stashed in the Outpost and most of all, he knew if there was anyone that would be able to hunt down a missing king and the remains of an ancient, mythical city, it was him and his crew.
They’d survived hell and back being runners for Vic, they could survive a few monsters and a knight or two.
Whether he intended to actually find the king was a different matter entirely.
One he wasn’t sure he cared to do. Change in leadership always came with promise and visions of a better future.
Desmond was no different. Even though it was bred deep into Stone’s bones to distrust Vargah, distrust Novaria, he couldn’t deny the fact that King Desmond had helped him.
Had seen something in him and allowed him a chance at a new life.
“I’m all for the adventure,” Bee said. “Beats rotting in prison.”
Patch huffed a laugh, but Birdie kept her gaze locked on Stone. She was daring him to say everything he hadn’t yet. That there was a real chance King Desmond wasn’t alive. That there was an even better chance they wouldn’t survive past the Outpost.
Stone went back to emptying the crate. Fruit, dried meats, nuts. He focused on categorizing the provisions. Putting his hands to work was the best way to get his brain to shut up.
Except even with the supplies in front of him, he couldn’t stop the racing thoughts circling in his mind.
With the queen’s promise to pay half upfront, and the ship filled with astra, his old ways of running through the desert came rearing up like a bolt of dry lightning.
He could abandon the mission altogether and sail away from Vargah with his cadre in tow and never look back.
They were already free from the prison, who cared about a pardon if they were a continent away?
With the vast amount of astra the queen had provided, they could make it all the way to the Isles without looking back.
It could be a way for them to start fresh. Start over. Just like they’d always dreamt. But every time he thought of fleeing, of leaving the Commander and her knight in the Outpost and heading for freedom, his mind snagged on one detail.
Ravki.