Chapter 55 #2
The space was constructed from warm mahogany, artifacts from all the continent’s kingdoms adorning the walls.
Floor-to-ceiling windows faced the bay, gilding the room in blues and golds and all the colors of the afternoon sea.
A massive desk commanded the center of the office, maps and scrolls scattered across its marred surface.
The chair was swiveled away, its occupant facing the setting sun.
Darius cleared his throat. “Father.” He bowed his head, though the man in the chair didn’t turn. “We picked up a few Onitan travelers at sea a few days ago. They say they’re from the new Queen’s Court and come carrying a message. Just as she predicted.”
Quentin scrutinized Darius. The pirate must be talking about their goddess. The question hovered just on the tip of his tongue.
Delaynie pinched him.
Fine. He’ll continue holding his questions. For diplomacy.
The man in the chair chuckled. “I didn’t expect her to be wrong. I am just constantly surprised that any Onitans would be stupid enough to make her right.”
The man rose, striding out from behind his desk with a graceful walk.
He halted with a smile, folding his arms behind his back.
His long copper hair was unbound around his shoulders, sea-green eyes carrying a poisoned malice that curdled Quentin’s stomach.
Delaynie’s eyes widened, spine straightening, eyes bouncing between Quentin and the man.
Quentin just tensed his jaw tighter.
Darius gave the man a smirk. “I am honored to introduce my father, Varyn Draethos, Lord of the Kizar Islands and Master of the Mirrored Sea.”
Varyn chuckled. “And who might our Onitan guests be, Darius?”
Darius opened his mouth, frowned, then scratched his chin. “You know,” he said, “I don’t think they ever actually shared their names with us.”
Annoyance flashed over Varyn’s features, lip curling. “Sometimes, son—”
“My name is Delaynie Albellane.” Her clear, politician’s voice rang through the resplendent room. “I am a Lady of Queen Mariah’s court. We come to speak with you, Lord Varyn, on the authority of our queen.”
Curiosity flickered in Varyn’s eyes. “Well, hello there,” he purred. “How nice of your queen to send me such a pretty little treat.”
“If you touch her, you lose the hand.” Quentin growled the warning before he could choke it back, words slipping through clenched teeth.
Yeah, diplomacy wasn’t for him.
The pirate lord’s eyes slid to Quentin. “Quite a threat from someone standing so far from his cushioned castle.” He cocked his head, surveying Quentin with a closeness that made his skin crawl. “And you are…?”
Quentin answered with a glare.
Delaynie elbowed him sharply in the side. He winced.
“Quentin,” he said slowly, begrudgingly. “One of the queen’s sworn and bonded Armature.”
Varyn and Darius—and the other three sailors in the room—barked their laughter. Quentin’s hackles rose in answer. “An Armature? You?” Varyn’s smile took a wicked twist. “You hardly look capable of beating an inexperienced deckhand.”
“Good. Underestimating me is how fuckers like you die.”
Delaynie looked ready to murder him, but the pirate lord just chuckled again.
“At least you have spirit.” Varyn meandered a few more steps into the center of the room.
“Now, are you going to quit threatening me and tell me why you bothered coming all this way? Or should I just toss you into my cells and sail you back out into the sea to be swallowed by the monsters of the deep?”
Quentin swallowed. His heart hammered in his chest, his anger and frustration boiling his blood.
This was stupid. Foolish. He hated these pirates. Hated their arrogance, their cruelty, their ambivalence. Hated how they’d attacked his city without a care to the world, like the death of his people was nothing more than a game.
Yet he remembered what his queen had asked of him. What she needed from him.
There was a greater evil in the world, and they had one chance at stopping him. Was it unlikely that what they sought was here? Yes. But there was still a chance. For that, Quentin could swallow his hatred.
One day, when Kol was defeated, he’d have his pound of flesh. But for now… For now, he would do what he had to do.
As he’d always done.
“There’s an evil,” he began, drawing in a deep, calming inhale. “One that has been dormant for thousands of years, but now threatens everything—not just Onita, but everyone on the continent. And my queen needs your help to defeat it.”
“How so?” Varyn lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed.
Quentin gritted his teeth but forged on. “She wrote you a letter, explaining everything.” He reached for his back pocket, searching for the sealed letter.
But…
Fuck.
Quentin’s stomach bottomed out, his hands finding only fabric. Yes, he’d put the letter in that pocket several days ago, when they’d first boarded The Vesper. He’d then stuffed it into one of their chests on that first night, not wanting to lose it.
Of course, that chest now sat on the bottom of the Mirrored Sea.
“You look like you lost something, Armature. Care to share?”
Quentin ignored the pirate lord, instead finding Delaynie’s gaze.
One job. He’d had one fucking job. Get Mariah’s letter to the pirate lord, then convince him not to kill them both and instead let them search their libraries, if they had any. Of course, his lack of foresight, once again, had ruined everything.
He expected to see a similar panic in Delaynie’s expression.
Instead, he saw…calm?
The lady turned back to the pirate lord, lifting her chin with that imperious grace she wielded so well. “The letter was lost at sea, my lord. But I know its contents.”
Varyn rolled his eyes. “Then for the love of the gods, speak. I’m getting bored of this circular nonsense.”
“Kol, the fallen god of the sun and Scourge of the First War, has risen again. He seeks to complete his task from five thousand years ago, to lay waste to the continent and bring all its people under his thrall. The other gods have risen with him, but do not join him. Rulene, Callamus, and Priam stand to fight. They have shared knowledge with the Queen of Onita of a weapon forged in secret at the end of the First War, a weapon with the power to kill a god.”
The room fell into a hushed, tense silence. Darius’s green eyes had grown wide, looking suddenly younger than he had since he’d pulled them from the sea.
Varyn, though, still wore a careful mask, his brows tight. “And what is it that the Queen of Onita needs from me?”
“Your knowledge,” Delaynie answered. “That weapon has been lost, both to time and magic. But it—or information about it—could be hidden in any of the continent’s kingdoms. Our queen sent us here to request access to your libraries, so we can see what lost truths Kizar might have saved.”
Varyn was again silent. Quentin didn’t like the way he stared at Delaynie, the way his sea-green eyes tried to pierce her politician’s mask.
He especially didn’t like the way the pirate lord huffed a chuckle, shaking his head slowly.
“You may be a pretty thing, but you speak with a serpent’s tongue.
Tell me”—he took a step forward, leaning into Delaynie’s space— “why should I care about what happens to the continent? The First War was five thousand years ago, and despite the brutality on the mainland, it never reached Kizar. Why should my people help yours when Onita’s trade policies have done nothing but cripple us so much that we’ve had no choice but to resort to piracy?
” Varyn’s lip lifted in a snarl, white teeth flashing.
“Why should Kizar give you anything, when all Onita has done is force us into the shadows?”
Quentin bit back the growl rumbling up his chest. He held his focus on Delaynie, who was icy as ever, chin still lifted to the snarling lord.
“Because, Lord Varyn. You are a part of this world, just as we are. And regardless of what happened in the past, you should still give a shit about it now.”
“Who are you to tell me what I should care about?” Varyn sneered. “The sea is our sanctuary. Kizar is but a port. This world is bigger than just the continent, and we no longer care about its fate.”
“You can flee, but you can never evade the sun, Lord Varyn. Kol will not stop until he conquers everything beneath it.”
The lord hesitated for a beat, something flickering in his eyes, before giving a nonchalant shrug. “If that happens, we will deal with it. But as of right now, I am not inclined to help Onitans with their mainland squabbles.”
“I guess we always should’ve expected this from monsters who would terrorize a city and slaughter innocents for no gods-damned reason.”
The words were past Quentin’s lips before he could stop them. They’d been sitting there, lurking in his throat ever since this pirate had mentioned the trade policies.
As if money could ever justify murder.
Varyn turned back to Quentin, holding his glare, that curious glimmer again shifting across his face.
Before he laughed.
“I was wondering when you might bring that up. I’m surprised you stayed on your leash for so long.”
“Fuck you—”
“You sure do love your threats.” Varyn smirked.
“Yes, we attacked your little city. We killed your people. And the fact that your queen still sent you to entreat with us, even after all that, makes her even more pathetic than I could predict. Of course,” he said, smile growing, “she knew. Which is why when she gave the order, we obeyed.”
Quentin was ready to sink a dagger into this lord’s neck.
“What are—”
The door behind them slammed open. A heavy, cloying energy filled the room, one that reminded him of the spray of briny water and the crackling power of a storm at sea. They all turned, Quentin gripping the hilt of a dagger and angling his body in front of Delaynie.
A beautiful woman, garbed in glowing white robes and a gleaming golden chest piece, prowled into the room. Her long, colorless hair flowed around her shoulders, her glowing seafoam eyes glittering with contempt in the dying afternoon light.
Varyn gave her a deep, gracious bow. “Perhaps it would be best if you heard the reason straight from the source.” He extended his arm to the woman.
“It is my honor to introduce Krilene, Goddess of Sea and War. She predicted your arrival here…and ordered the attack on Verith.”