Chapter Three
Larus jolts awake, his hand grasping for a sword that isn’t on him. He fumbles in the dark for his belt and sheath for a moment until I place it in his hand.
I head to the back of the bunkroom and choose a Selaran longsword and Nithyrian dagger from almost a dozen options on the weapon rack.
“How many?” Larus asks as we crowd behind Octavia, who’s looking through a slit in the door’s curtain.
She pauses, listening to the footsteps on the planks of the deck. “Two on board. The twins got their shadow-born, so they’re blind until they light it up.” She must suspect that the remaining attackers are fire-born.
“You think they’ll risk burning the boat?” I ask.
“Once they have you, it won’t matter.”
My stomach sinks. Of course they’re after me. “They’re Adria’s?”
“Nithyrian, certainly. Listen to that clink—it’s the sound of the straps that hold your leather.”
“How did they find us?”
“It’s a river, girl. There weren’t many places to look. The real question is how they caught us, and how they managed to do it without the twins seeing them coming.” She reaches for the handle of the wheelhouse door but stops when she hears more steps.
“That’s more than two,” mutters Larus. “I can feel their steel. I can disarm one no problem, but you’ve got at least three others to deal with.”
Octavia shakes her head. “My crew is out there.” With Larus’s limited ability to see, he might disarm one of them by mistake. “They’re moving to the stern. It’s our chance.”
Steel clashes across the deck as Octavia throws open the door.
Her crew of three faces off with the boarding party of five under the cover of heavy darkness, broken only by the occasional flash of fire-born flame.
Octavia’s wind-born knocks one of their fire-born to the ground, giving Larus a chance to disarm them, their sword flying backwards through the air and embedding itself in the wheelhouse walls.
Octavia’s sword slices through the only member of the attacking crew who is able to move confidently in the dark, leaving the rest of them blind and vulnerable.
That is, until the darkness suddenly lifts.
“What the fuck—” begins Octavia as one of the twins runs through her crew’s wind-born with her sword.
“Weapons down, lights up,” says the other twin, guiding the remaining Nithyrian attackers to her as Octavia once again enshrouds the deck in darkness. “Give us the girl, and we’re gone.”
“Daughters of whores,” says Octavia, drawing closer to Larus to block me from view.
It’s six against three with the twins changing sides, so she has no choice to do what they ask.
She lowers her sword to the ground and lifts the shadows.
It’s still dark on the deck, but the sky has just begun to lighten with the approaching dawn. “For how long?” she asks the twins.
“Since Minar,” says the one closer to us. “It’s nothing personal. The coin was too good.”
Minar? The twins had betrayed Octavia before they’d even reached Faros, before Adria had caught Larus.
Back when the plan was simply to get Larus and me out of the city and bring us to Mama Adama’s fleet.
It couldn’t have been Adria that paid them, then.
She wasn’t in Minar and couldn’t have hired someone to take me from Larus since she didn’t even know what he was planning.
“Who paid you?” I ask. If I’m going to go with them—and it seems I have little choice but to do so—I’d like to know where I’m going.
The other twin steps forward. “A man who looks just like you.”
Seth.
Somehow, Seth had gotten wind of what Larus was planning, likely through one or both of these twins, and he’d taken matters into his own hands.
I can’t go with them, not to Seth. Adria may have been planning to kill me, but at least she would have been quick about it.
Seth will take his time. He’ll make a game of it, torturing me to draw Ronan into a situation he can’t win.
He has no morals, no sense of decency, no concern for anyone but himself.
Adria is ruthless, but there’s a purpose behind her cruelty, an end that she uses to justify her means.
Seth will hurt me just for the fun of it.
I look at Larus, and I can see he knows this too. Our weapons—six between the three of us—are on the ground. If he has enough magic left, he could launch them all at once at our attackers. One knife per throat.
But if he misses even one, we’d be defenseless except for my knife. And two of them have fire.
Octavia and Larus share a look between them. They’re going to go for it, the odds against us be damned. They’ll die for me here if they have to, knowing what my brother’s captivity will cost me. What it could cost Selara.
I can’t let them. I won’t. “Let them go, and I’ll come with you,” I say.
“Deal,” says the nearer twin immediately. The ease with which she says it tells me she didn’t intend to fight Octavia and Larus unless they had no other choice. Maybe they even thought I’d be handed over willingly.
“Sylvie—” begins Larus, but I shake my head.
“Get to Ronan,” I whisper to him as I pass him by. “Tell him whatever you have to. Stop him from coming after me.” I can’t let Ronan fall into my brother’s trap.
I approach the twins and the Nithyrian boarders, my brother’s people, trying to keep my hands from shaking. Trying not to think of what I’ll have to endure to get back to Ronan.
Because I will get back to him. My brother, like my sister, sees me as nothing more than a pawn to be used against him, but I am not the little girl they left behind long ago.
They’ve underestimated me all my life. They’ve seen me as soft and breakable, young and weak and oh-so-easy to manipulate. So easy to use in their games.
But they don’t know me at all. They don’t know what I’m capable of.
My brother thinks he’s taking a prisoner, and I’ll let him think that. I’ll bide my time, and when the moment is right, I’ll strike from within.
He thinks he’s caught a fly in his web. What he doesn’t realize is that I am a spider, too.