be impossible for me to mistake them for anyone else.
There are people still trying to board the ship, eager to join the battle. Draxen and his men don’t stand a chance, but they’re putting up a fight. Most of them
are, anyway. I see Kearan sitting on the deck, drinking, not a care in the world.
Not much of a fighter, that one.
I spot Draxen. He’s fighting two of Tylon’s men at once. For a moment, I wish one of them would kill him. Riden can’t blame me for that, and I do so want to see him dead. But I know that no matter by whose hand he falls, Riden
will still hurt from the loss. I hate that I keep proving Vordan right. I care about Riden’s pain. I don’t know why, but I do.
Before my eyes, Draxen slays one of Tylon’s men. The other steps back a couple of feet. Then he advances with a new fury. Bad move, that. The poor man’s not thinking clearly. He will only join his friend.
Draxen kills him, too. The pirate falls to the deck as Tylon boards the ship.
Seeing a man kill one of your own men is a terrible sight. It helps you pick your targets during a battle. And Tylon races for Draxen immediately.
This needs to stop. Now.
Tylon is an excellent fighter. He’s been pirating a good six years of his life,
ever since he was a lad of twelve. Now he’s one of my father’s most trusted men
and a good match for any pirate captain. I couldn’t say who would win in a fight.
This makes me unaccountably nervous. I can’t risk Tylon winning, but how would it look if I intervened?
Oh, for stars’ sake!
I race forward, jumping between the two men who are still a good ten feet from each other.
“Alosa,” I hear Tylon say from behind me.
I ignore him for now. “Draxen, you need to stop this. Tell your men to surrender, or more will die.”
Draxen looks at me, his eyes filled with blood lust. Surrendering is the last thing he will consider, even at the cost of the lives of all his men. He advances toward me, determined to end me once and for all.
I’ll just have to knock him out again. But how will it look to everyone else if I don’t kill him?
Suddenly, Draxen’s eyes are no longer on me, and I hear swords drop to the
deck.
What the—
I turn around, though I already suspect what I’ll find.
The pirate king has arrived.
I look around the ship, spot Niridia, and catch her eye. The message conveyed
in the look I give her is obvious. Did you do this? She shakes her head once. No.
My next action is to kick Tylon in the shin.
“Ow,” he says.
“You brought him here?”
“Of course. You obviously called for help. Why wouldn’t I bring him here?”
“Because we don’t need his help.” I make a sound akin to a growl. Then I advance to the ship’s edge. “Hello, Father.”
“Do you have it?” he asks. He does not look pleased. My father is a bear of a man. Dark brown hair and beard. Wide-set shoulders. Over six feet tall. You don’t have to meet him beforehand to know who he is. My father commands attention in the same way the winds command the waves.
“Of course,” I respond.
I reach a hand into the single pocket on my breeches and pull out the small orb. Draxen was so concerned for his brother’s life, he did not think to check me for the map again. He might not have even realized it was no longer in his possession.
In a very businesslike manner, I place the map into my father’s waiting hands.
He looks over the glass, confirming I’ve given him what he wants.
“Now explain yourself. Why did you call Niridia?”
Everything is silent, halted. All the men and women hold Draxen’s crew at gun- or sword-point. My father doesn’t care about their discomfort. He’ll take as much time as he wants to question me. It’s as if everything stops for him. It has always been this way.
“I needed a way off the ship. I had the map and needed a way to transport it.”
He looks at me, slightly disbelieving. “Why didn’t you bring this ship to me?”
Before I can answer, he holds up a hand to silence me. “Niridia?”
“Aye, sir!” Niridia shouts from where she has two men held at gunpoint.
“Tell me, where did you find my daughter when you boarded the ship?”
“She was—”
“In the brig,” I interject. Niridia would lie for me. She’d die for me, too. And
in this case, they would be the same thing. My father may do many things to me,
but I know he would never kill me. He would not show the same courtesy to anyone who lied to him.