escape—now I have to call upon the siren. Again. There is a nasty taste in the back of my throat. Goose bumps rise on my skin, and it has nothing to do with
the cold.
His color is red—the most complex of all. It can mean so very many things:
love, lust, hatred, passion. Really any overwhelmingly strong emotion looks red
to me. Using my best guess, I would say Vordan is feeling the bright red of passion, but passion for what?
Vordan is most eager to succeed, I decide. He wants something from me. If
only I can be patient enough to hear what it is.
“Continue, then,” I manage to say.
“I’m here to offer you a place on my crew. I want to give you the freedom to
do as you wish after you help me get to the Isla de Canta.”
“I am the captain of my own ship and crew. I have the freedom to sail where I wish. Why would I find your offer even remotely tempting?” I do not ask in anger. My tone is only objective. I’m trying to reason with him. To remain calm.
“Because ultimately you are under your father’s rule. When this is all over, Alosa, when you and your father have all three pieces of the map, when you’ve
sailed to the Isla de Canta and claimed the wealth of ages—what then? I’ll tell
you. Then your father will not only still have complete control over the seas of
Maneria, he will also have all the wealth he needs to maintain that control. And
you will always have to serve him. You will never be truly free of him.”
“But I will be if I join you?” I ask skeptically.
“Yes. Help me obtain what your father wants. Help me reach the Isla de Canta. Help me to usurp Kalligan’s rule, and I shall free you. When we are successful, you will be free to go as you please, do as you wish, have whatever
you want. I shall not bother you or call on you again.”
Vordan Serad is a fool. Does he think I could ever trust him to keep his word?
Does he really think I would turn so easily on my father? Does he think it a burden for me to serve Kalligan? He’s my father. It is the love of family that drives my actions. I do not long for freedom, for I already have it. I have my own ship and crew that are mine to do with as I see fit. Now and again I assist
my father when he needs me. He is, after all, the king. And I shall become queen
when my father’s reign has ended. Vordan expects me to give that up for him?
Not a chance.
I dare not say any of this, though. I’m still sensing Vordan’s feelings and desires. He’s hopeful. Very hopeful for … something.
Agreeing is the only way I’ll get out of this cage and have a chance of escape.
“You’re right,” I say in an attempt to tell Vordan exactly what he wants to hear. “I have been too afraid to break free of my father. I long to be rid of him. I want nothing to do with the Isla de Canta or Kalligan, but if you swear to me that you will grant me my freedom in exchange for my services, I will help you obtain what you seek.”
Vordan looks behind me. I turn. Theris shakes his head. “She’s lying.”
“I am not,” I say through gritted teeth. I was so focused on Vordan, I didn’t
bother feeling for what Theris wanted to hear. I didn’t realize it was he and not Vordan who I needed to convince.
Theris smiles. “She’s using the same trick she used on Draxen. I witnessed exactly how Alosa can manipulate others by telling them what they want to hear.”
“I may have used my abilities on Draxen, but that doesn’t mean I’m using them now,” I say, though I know it’s pointless. I know now what it was I needed
to say, and it’s too late to change my response.
“You didn’t put up enough of a fight, Alosa,” Theris says. “I watched you for
a month on that ship. I listened to your conversations and … interactions.” At this he looks pointedly at Riden.
Riden has not said anything yet. He’s watching our captors closely, though, trying to understand the situation so we can get out of it. At Theris’s last words, he looks at me.
Just how much did Theris see? I think with disgust.
“I know exactly how stubborn you are,” Theris continues. “And I know how
you feel about your father. You did not defend him as you usually do.”
I want to kick him, but he’s too far away for me to reach, and I couldn’t fit
my leg through the bars if I wanted to. An arm, yes, but not a leg.
“Fine,” I say as I try to think of a new plan. “What now?”