He took a breath. “Yeah?”
“That would be the most amazing thing ever. Are you sure it’d be okay to bring them here? We could take money out of my cut to pay for their food and everything, and I’m sure Kayla could help mend the sails and clothes and whatever else. She’s a great seamstress. And we can make Cody clean and—”
This time, Max cut me off with a smiling kiss. “Kas?”
“Yeah?”
His grin against my lips grew. “I would love the chance to get to know your family. We’ll make sure the crew treats them right. I’ll announce the plan before we disembark so anyone who doesn’t like it can leave and find another ship.”
“You’d really do that?”
Instead of answering with words, he pulled me into another long kiss, then rested his forehead against mine. “When we get to Gearhart, you can send Kayla a letter to let her know the plan. You won’t get a reply, obviously, but at least she’ll be prepared, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to know you’re doing well.”
I smiled at him. “I’ll write Cody one too. He’ll love getting his own letter.” Taking advantage of the kingdoms’ mail carriers was a great idea. Of course, being between the kingdoms on an airship meant they couldn’t write back, but Max was right that they’d want to know I was alive and well.
Max grinned at me, pecked my cheek, then pulled out his telescopic to scan the skies. Leaning my shoulder against his, I mirrored him, content to sit with my Max—my captain, mypartner—for a while longer before going back toourroom for the night.
27
Maximus
The rest of the journey to Asteris passed quickly under clear skies. Ariella, bolstered by her new status as first mate, pushed herself to the limit with her windweaving skills. She knew the entire crew was desperate for land—for a reset after our turbulent journey—and she delivered magnificently, guiding favorable winds into our sails day and night.
I quickly established a new rhythm on the ship. Unlike Viper, who’d sequestered himself in his quarters, I made a point of being everywhere—checking rigging, inspecting the hull, overseeing repairs. The crew needed to see their captain working alongside them. I praised good work openly, but made it clear that discipline would be maintained. A pirate ship without order quickly became a floating graveyard.
A handful of Viper’s devoted followers remained. They’d bent the knee when faced with the alternative, but I kept them under close watch. Pete in particular made me uneasy—his eyes followed me with barely concealed hatred whenever I passed.
Sometimes at night, as Kaspar slept beside me, I questioned how long I could maintain this position. Captaining a piratevessel meant raids, and raids meant death. Though I’d spent years as the Reaper, executing Viper’s brutal orders, if there was a choice, I didn’t want more deaths on my conscience.
Yet the thought of leaving the skies made my chest constrict. Flying was in my blood—the freedom of soaring above the world’s troubles, the endless horizon promising new adventures. I couldn’t give that up. It would kill me. I’d been contemplating it, though—grounding myself permanently if Kaspar had wanted a different life. I’d spent sleepless nights weighing my love of the skies against my growing feelings for him, preparing myself for that inevitable descent. But when Kaspar had confessed, eyes bright with excitement, that he wanted to stay with me among the clouds, the relief had stolen my breath away. Like a ship catching a perfect wind, my heart had soared at the possibility of having both—the endless sky and the man who was quickly becoming my anchor.
When Asteris’s capital, Gearhart, finally appeared on the horizon, the crew erupted in cheers. We quickly transformedThe Black Wraithinto our newest alias—The Golden Goose, supposedly a merchant vessel specializing in bird transport. Usually, we’d swap out the serpent figurehead with one of our numerous attachable decoy ones. But this time, we’d taken the opportunity to saw off the vile thing that had marked us as Viper’s ship.
I leaned against the railing as we approached Gearhart’s massive sea wall—a feat of engineering rivaling even the famous barricade of Sunada’s capital city. But where Embergate’s wall stood as a grim, utilitarian fortress of dull gray stone and iron reinforcements, Gearhart had transformed necessity into artistry. Their wall gleamed with polished copper inlays catching the sunlight, and intricate mosaic patterns depicted the kingdom’s history in vibrant blues and golds. Even their practical infrastructure had style.
“Quite the welcome, isn’t it?” I said to Kaspar, who stood beside me, mouth slightly agape.
The docks themselves stretched before us in an organized chaos of activity that always felt fundamentally different from Sunada’s regimented efficiency. Dockworkers moved with purpose but without the haunted, exhausted expressions I’d grown accustomed to seeing in Embergate’s laborers.
I stood at the gangplank as we docked, wearing my best approximation of a respectable merchant captain—a navy blue coat with minimal embellishments and my hair tied back neatly, no weapons visible. I’d instructed the crew similarly, and those with the most notorious faces or distinctive pirate tattoos remained below deck.
A dockworker approached, clipboard in hand. Young fellow, couldn’t be more than twenty, with the manner of someone who took their job seriously.
“Welcome to Gearhart,” he said. “Name of vessel and purpose of visit?”
“The Golden Goose,” I replied smoothly. “Merchant transport. Inspector Torres would like to handle our inspection and registration.”
The young man’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Torres, sir? But I can perform the standard—”
“Torres,” I repeated firmly, sliding a silver coin across to him. “Tell her the shipment of black feathers has arrived.”
The dockworker pocketed the coin with practiced discretion. “Wait here, please.”
Ten minutes later, a woman in an impeccably pressed customs uniform approached with measured steps. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and the badge on her chest gleamed in the morning light. Only someone who knew her well would notice how her right sleeve was always fastened slightly looser—concealing the burn scar that extended from elbow to wrist, asouvenir from our escape years ago. Torres had once been my fellow officer aboardThe Valiantbefore Eric’s betrayal sent us both running for our lives. Once she’d helped me escape prison and fled to Asteris, she’d found she was too scarred by our past to return to the skies.
“Good day, sir,” she said, her official tone belied by the warmth in her eyes as she recognized me.
“Inspector Torres.” I nodded respectfully. “It’s actually Captain Reaper, now. You won’t be seeing Viper anymore, but I was hoping we could continue our… arrangement.”
