“That’s a big gamble you’re taking, Riden. What happens if Draxen
overpowers me? How will you feel about that?”
“Oh please. We both know you are hiding more than your intentions to get the map. You are skilled, Alosa. More skilled than any human girl could possibly be. No one man could get the better of you. I don’t know what you are.
I just know you’ve somehow gotten into my head. And you managed to enchant
the whole crew the other day. I’m still trying to figure out why you haven’t killed us all already.”
The door wrenches free, and Draxen strides in. “Leave us,” he commands.
Swiftly and forcefully at the same time.
Riden obeys, then sends one more pleading look in my direction. Don’t kill him.
I’m still stuck on Riden’s words. Human girl. He knows. I know he remembers me singing him to sleep, but was it too much to hope he would explain it away as coincidental?
But then, why wouldn’t he tell Draxen? Or, well, why wouldn’t he warn Draxen? It probably shouldn’t matter. But it does. I don’t know how I feel about
Riden knowing my secret. Or at least guessing part of it.
I’m still puzzling this all out when Draxen slams me against the wall in his room.
“I’m going to enjoy this. If you had gone along with everything last time, you
would’ve had it good. But not now. Now I’m going to make you scream.”
“Actually, Draxen,” I say, struggling against his weight, “you’re really not.”
He laughs as he tries to force me toward his bed. “I’ve thought about doing
this for a long time.”
“Me too.”
Draxen braces my back against the wall. His arms are at my shoulders. I manage to lift both legs, plant them on his stomach, and kick, using the wall to
steady me. That sends him reeling backward several feet.
I land painfully on the ground. My mind quickly travels back in time to when
Draxen questioned me in this room. Some of my blood is still dried onto this floor. Draxen hit me again and again, trying to get me to give him the location to my father’s hideaway.
I’ve always lived with the eye-for-an-eye mentality.
I send my right fist into the side of his face. I don’t have to hold back now,
and I don’t. I put everything I have into it. I know I’ve hit sure and sound when I can feel the resulting stinging pain in my knuckles. After being cooped up and holding back for so long, this is bliss. A painful bliss.
Draxen grunts from the impact. He’s still unsure of what’s happening when I
send a second strike with my left fist.
“How does that feel, Draxen?” I hiss. “Don’t worry—we’re not done yet.”
He growls as he tries to see me in front of him. He advances, trying to pummel me with his own fists. But a quick duck and two strikes later, I land him
onto the floor.
He utters a few exhausted curses.
I’m still not done with him.
“You threatened to cut my hair. What manner of foul scum does that? How about if I cut off something you value, Draxen?”
He takes in a large gulp of air. Of course that threat would make him scream
for help, but I can’t have that. One quick kick to the face and he’s out.
I get my knife out of my boot. What should I take from him? An ear? A finger? Something from down low?
I cringe at that thought. Too gross. Perhaps I should stick this in his heart and be done with it.
But Riden’s voice comes circulating in my ears again. Please don’t kill him.
I’ve never had a brother. I don’t know how I would feel toward him.
Especially if he behaved like Draxen. I think I’d still kill him.
What do I care what Riden thinks? He’s the only one who gets hurt as a result. Draxen won’t feel a thing. The pirates under him can always find a new
vessel to crew for. Most of them seem more loyal to Riden than they do their captain anyway. Lord Jeskor isn’t around to claim vengeance. But Riden might.
I suppose he might even rally up the crew to join him.
I’m not afraid.
I get on my knees and find myself staring at the dagger.
It’s the dagger that Riden let me keep. He knows I have it. He’s known I’ve
had it for a while. But he’s trusted me not to abuse it. It was a gift of protection from him. He took everything else I owned away from me, but he let me keep this one token out of good faith.
And he trusted me enough not to kill his brother?
What a fool.
I hover over Draxen’s chest, visualize the knife sinking in, imagine the resistance of the skin and innards, hear the sound of the knife sliding between the ribs.