Viper wasn’t stupid. He must have known I disagreed with it. I raised Butcher’s behavior as a problem at least once a month with him. He knew I disagreed with half his choices, just as I knew he kept me around because I made his job easier. I handled the day-to-day headaches, kept the crew in line, made sure everything ran smooth as silk. The Reaper kept the peace so the Viper could wage war.
At least with Viper, I knew exactly where I stood. He was honest in his dishonesty—a snake who never pretended to be anything else. Not like Eric, who’d manipulated me into loving him, all for his own gain. The name still burned unspoken on my tongue even after all these years. Viper might be cruel, but he’d never hidden his true nature behind promises and sweet words. There was a strange comfort in that kind of honesty.
My hand still hovered over the door. What had Viperreallyseen in me that day? A broken man with nothing left to lose? Someone desperate enough to do whatever it took to survive? Or perhaps he’d recognized a kindred spirit—someone who understood that power came from fear as much as respect. My Imperial training had taught me that lesson well enough.
I squared my shoulders, pushing aside the ache in my hip. Time to do our familiar dance again.
I knocked twice.
“Enter.” Viper’s growl carried through the heavy wood.
I pushed open the door, my gaze going, as it always did, to the hydra fixed to his wall. The beast’s glass eyes seemed to track my movement, four sets of razor-sharp teeth frozen mid-strike. That middle head always unnerved me most—jaws spread wide, tongue curled, ready to snap shut on whatever fool wandered too close. The trophy dominated the wall, leaving the quarters feeling half their actual size.
It didn’t help that monster parts crowded every surface. Tentacles coiled in jars of preservative fluid cast strangeshadows across the floor. A kraken beak served as a paperweight. Dragon scales lined the shelves, and what might have been a basilisk’s eye floated in murky liquid on his desk.
Viper hunched over his charts, his oversized tricorn casting his face in shadow. Papers scattered across his desk—shipping manifestos, patrol schedules, cargo lists—all marked with the royal seal of Sunada. His network of informants earned their coin well.
“More dead stones.” I set the wooden box on his desk, careful not to disturb his organized chaos of documents.
He didn’t look up, just traced a line across one of the maps with his finger. “Merchant vessel. Twenty days out of port. Carrying textiles and…” A gold tooth flashed as he smiled. “Anchor-grade fluxstones.”
The coordinates he pointed to showed a common trading route between Sunada and Asteris. Perfect hunting grounds for a ship like ours.
“Captain, about these stones.” I tapped the wooden box. “We need to replenish before any more raids. The galley’s running low, and several cannons—”
“Hmm.” Viper leaned back, his chair creaking. He stroked his massive beard, eyes fixed on the hydra above. The silence stretched until I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
“We’ve also got a deadline, remember? With respect, Captain, you’ve been talking about picking up that waterweaver your contact told you about for months. If we’re late to Gearhart, we might miss him.”
Viper’s massive beard quivered with frustration. “Fine.” He slammed his palm on the desk. “Set course for Duskwater Harbor.”
My stomach twisted. That cesspool of a port, where every transaction came with a hidden cost, and half the “merchants” were really assassins-for-hire. Where the air stank of piss androtting fish, and you couldn’t walk ten steps without someone trying to pick your pocket or slit your throat.
I opened my mouth to suggest anywhere else, but stopped. Duskwater Harbor made the most logical sense, location-wise. I’d simply support Viper with his transactions, then head straight back to hide on the ship, like I always did. Until I cracked and left my cabin to check that the younger members of the crew were safe.
“We can sell what’s in the hold to make more space for what’s to come. And I need to see Old Harvey, anyway.” Viper’s grin widened, showing off that gold tooth. “We can kill all our birds.”
I nodded, already dreading the crowds of desperate souls who’d try to join our crew, the back-alley deals that always ended in bloodshed, and the constant vigilance required to keep our own crew from getting robbed blind or stabbed while deep in their cups. But we needed those fluxstones, and Duskwater Harbor, for all its faults, was the safest port for ships like ours.
“I’ll inform the crew we’re adjusting our course.” I grabbed the box of dead stones, eager to escape the stuffiness of his quarters and that hydra’s unblinking stare.
As I left, it occurred to me I hadn’t found Hawk-Eyes yet to deliver a very important message.
I found her on the gun deck, her telescopic goggles pushed up onto her forehead as she peered down a cannon barrel. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency, checking the mechanisms and noting readings in her logbook.
“How’re they looking?” I approached, boots echoing against the wooden planks.
She snapped to attention. “Sir. Two more dead stones since yesterday. Cannon Four’s showing signs of wear on the loading mechanism.” She gestured to the marks in her book. “Might need maintenance before our next engagement.”
“Good catch.” I leaned against the wall. “About your shift on tonight’s watch—”
“I’ll be there, sir. Clear skies should make it easy to spot anything coming our way.” She tapped her goggles. “These beauties haven’t failed us yet.”
“Actually, I’ll be taking your shift.”
Her hand paused mid-motion. “Again?” The word slipped out before she caught herself. “I mean, of course, sir. Whatever you need.”
I kept my expression neutral. Hawk-Eyes had earned her name during her first week aboard, when she’d spotted three patrol ships through a storm that would’ve caught us completely off guard. Since then, she’d become our most reliable lookout, especially during the night watch.
