Chapter Twenty Before #2
She withdrew quickly, shuffling the cards of Kane’s hand with the rest of the discard pile, to be redistributed with the damning X, buried once more.
It did not take long for Cat to sniff the card out again, dispatching Brimley with ease before Garedo landed square in her sights.
“Mr. Garedo—” Cat began, only to have him frown and slap his cards down.
“Yes, I know!” he said wearily, shoving back from the table to throw up his hands. His pile of winnings was depleted, dumped into a central pot that now belonged to Cat.
Her thoughts were not on the spoils. At least, not the kind measured in coin and trinkets.
Kane’s cigar flamed out, reduced to a stub of paper and burned tobacco. He squashed it on the heel of his boot before tossing it over the gunwales, to disappear into the blackness of the sea.
“Well, ask your question,” he said finally, facing Cat. One tawny eyebrow arched in challenge, as if they were opponents in a duel.
Cat thought of the map laid out in her commandeered cabin, and the words Brimley let slip not an hour ago.
“What is Drowning Key?”
The smug look wiped clean off Kane’s face. On the table, his hand twitched. He motioned for Cavallid’s flask, which the sailor dutifully handed over. The captain swigged, and Cat did not miss his throat bobbing over his open collar.
“I will not bother asking where you heard that,” he snapped, glaring around at his men. Blushes and stammers followed his gaze, though their explanations mattered little. He waved them off, looking at Cat again. “Drowning Key.”
“Yes,” she replied tightly. “What is it?”
Kane took his time to reply, taking another swig from the flask instead, making her wait, his eyes never leaving her own.
Again, Cat felt as if they faced each other across a shooting ground, and not the card table.
But she refused to relent, her hands folded primly in her lap.
She had more than enough experience sitting and staying silent, waiting for men to speak.
“An island, a small one, easily overlooked. Of little consequence to the Meridian Empire,” he finally said, his words carefully chosen. “And it isn’t on any map—at least not the ones left in my cabin.”
It was a poor answer, if an answer at all. Cat gritted her teeth, cursing herself for not being more specific in her question—and cursing him for seeing her intentions so clearly. Her mind flashed to the patchwork map on the cabin floor, painstakingly slotted together.
And useless.
“Where—” she blurted out, but Kane shook his head.
“You’ll have to win another hand for that, my lady,” he said, already shuffling the cards.
This time, Garedo and Brimley did not bother dealing in. They left the captain and the lady to their battle, the cards flying back and forth, both gamblers sparking like hot coals.
Only a few minutes passed before Kane had Cat up against the wall, the X burning red in her revealed hand. She was breathless with the speed of her loss and barely had time to react before he flung his question across the table.
“Who brought the Venerable news of Allisport?”
Cat blinked rapidly, caught off guard. She expected more questions about her sisters, her previous life, even her husband and their bank account.
Naval intelligence wasn’t exactly her area of expertise, and he knew that.
But she collected herself, trying to think, to remember what felt like years ago.
It was only yesterday, she told herself, chiding her memory.
Though it felt like admitting defeat, she broke her gaze and looked down to the table. It was too difficult to try to recall anything with Captain Kane staring at her so intently. She studied the worn woodgrain instead, tracing the whorls in the cheap pine.
“The Paladin,” she finally murmured, the name of the other Meridian vessel swimming up to the front of her mind.
Then it was the captain’s turn to look away, his narrowed eyes shifting to the sailor next to him. His crooked smiles and warmth were both gone, candles snuffed out.
“Brimley?” he said. “What do you know of that ship?”
The drunken mate did his best to uncross his eyes and be useful.
“Commanded by Captain Kent,” he sputtered, wobbling in his seat. “Part of the northern division, patrolling the Stills.”
Kane clapped him on the shoulder in thanks, though his face remained stern, his brow furrowed. “Either Captain Kent was very lost or he was sent south,” he muttered to himself. “Where—”
“You have asked your question already, Captain.”
Against all odds, Cat spoke evenly, her voice level and firm, though her fingers trembled in her lap. It was one thing for Captain Kane to dictate the rules of their escalating game. But another entirely for her to do the same.
And Kane knew it too.
“You are aware, Lady Rose, that I hold you prisoner on this ship?” he said quietly. Somehow it was more terrifying than a shout. “This back and forth is merely a formality. If I want an answer to a question, you must give it.”
It would certainly be easier, she told herself, to answer whatever he asks, to tell him whatever he needs, until I hold no more use.
But that felt wrong too, for more reasons than one.
She had questions of her own, her only leverage in the cards.
And there was her original plan to consider.
The wind in the sails was a firm reminder of the clock ticking, the waves pushing them onward to wherever this mercurial captain willed.
And at the end of their voyage—the truth. Lord Rose had no money to ransom them. Cat would need something else to trade. Could it be friendship instead?
She tried to weigh what little she knew of Captain Kane.
He was a pirate, a plundering marauder, a criminal who stalked the high seas for prey.
A shark in human skin. And yet he bore the same calluses as the crew.
He dove through the wreck of the Venerable alongside them.
Brimley had willingly defected to a pirate’s command, choosing the unknown prospect of Valerian Kane over the navy.
And he seemed better for it, grateful even.
Perhaps the captain was fair as he appeared, willing to hold to the rules of their game, even as he flouted every law of kingdoms and empires.
But what do I truly know of him? she wondered, hands still shaking.
The silence seemed to last all night—and yet only a moment.
The shuffle of cards broke the quiet, Kane’s deft fingers tracing the rough edge of the paper. He flicked through them, never breaking eye contact with her, his gaze like a hammer, and Cat the nail.
Finally, the cards slid across the uneven table, one by one, and he dealt a new hand.
Cat breathed a sigh, relief loosening the tight coil in her chest. But not for long. Kane defeated her almost immediately, the X all but burning her fingers.
“Where was Kent headed?” he said, shuffling once more.
This time, Cat did not have to rack her memory.
“Longdawn.”
A flurry of glances swept around the table.
Even Brimley, glazed over like a drunk at a tavern, shot a strange look at the captain.
Kane returned it, shuffling longer than he needed, the rhythm of the cards mirroring the muscle jumping in his cheek.
Long strands of golden hair fell into his face, putting him half in shadow.
But his eyes remained, glowing with the lantern light.
The next hand was not so fast, but just as ferocious. From the start, Cat caught a wave of luck, and she rode it hard, pushing more and more coins into the pot. Kane seemed distracted, and she seized on the opportunity. Another pile of coins, another ring of metal on metal as he matched her ante.
Until there were no more trinkets and pennies left to play, the table empty in front of her, all her winnings thrown to the center in an impressive heap.
It roused Kane from his thoughts, an amused smirk on his lips.
“Shall we make the call,” he said, fluttering his cards like a lady’s fan. “You have nothing left to bet.”
The wind rustled, the sails rippling overhead. A bronze curl blew across Cat’s eyes, and she tucked it away with her free hand. She did not miss the way Kane’s eyes followed the movement.
“Not quite,” she said, another gamble unfolding.
There was no mistaking the furious scarlet flush that spread across Brimley’s face or what it implied. But Cat ignored his assumptions, and whatever else the crew might be thinking.
Women have more things to trade than men like to think.
Kane eyed his cards again, then her. “Intrigue me, Lady Rose.”
Her chin lifted, her shoulders squared to face the captain as she would an adversary. And an equal.
“I bet my freedom.”
It was Cook who laughed first, breaking the surprised silence with a guffaw close to a shot from a cannon.
Ratter followed, giggling like the little boy he was.
Cat held her composure, even while her newfound companions cracked smiles.
Garedo, Brimley, Cavallid. They all chortled, dismissing her as easily as they welcomed her in.
Her grip tightened on the cards and her frustration grew. It was the same as having a curtain torn away, lifting an illusion. She was not a pirate, not a friend. She was, at best, cargo.
But Kane did not laugh. He did not even smile. And that was enough; Cat latched on to a sliver of hope thinner than the last curve of a waning moon.
“Your freedom is already agreed upon,” the captain said stiffly. “Lieutenant Fell will be ransomed, as will you and Lord Rose.”
Cat was undeterred.
“You can keep the men. Sell them both,” she bit out, slapping her cards face down. “I’m talking about me. Just me.”
At least Kane was good enough not to make her wait, to let her dangle on a hopeful thread. With a tilt of his head, he tossed his cards face up. Cat felt each one of them like a blade, cutting her hope to pieces.
“I fold, Lady Rose,” he said, standing up from the table with a scrape of his stool. The others leapt to match him, leaving her seated. And surrounded. “I’m a pirate, not a gambler. I’ll keep the prize already in hand.”