The familiar burn of anger rose in my chest, but I swallowed it down. Arguing with Viper was like trying to change the wind’s direction by shouting at it.
“And that boy, Willy,” Viper continued, seemingly determined to criticize every crew member. “Scampering around like a scared little rabbit. Pathetic.”
Because Butcher flogged every ounce of confidence from him, you fucking imbecile.Willy was barely eighteen, still learning the ropes. The boy had potential—and heart. Something Viper wouldn’t recognize if it punched him in his stupid face.
“He’s improving,” I offered neutrally, keeping my voice flat.
Viper snorted. “Not fast enough. I run a pirate ship, not a nursery.”
The cavern entrance loomed ahead, a dark mouth in the rocky hillside guarded by two burly men with weathered faces and weapons that had clearly seen use. I felt a small relief at the change of subject that would surely come.
“Captain Viper,” one guard acknowledged with a nod. “And the Reaper. Old Harvey is in his office. I’m sure he’ll want to see you.”
I nodded at the guard, maintaining my Reaper persona with a cold stare that made him take a half-step back. Old Harvey’s Caverns had served as our secure storage for years—a network of natural formations expanded and reinforced tocreate the perfect place for pirates to stash their more valuable acquisitions. For a fee, of course.
“Harvey better have kept everything intact,” Viper muttered as we followed the lantern-carrying guide deeper into the cool darkness. “I’m still pissed off about those fingerprints on my silver chalices.”
I suppressed an eye roll. The chalices had been dusty at most, but Viper had used it as an excuse to negotiate a discount on our storage fees. Not that Harvey would ever risk angering the captain ofThe Black Wraithby actually mishandling our goods. Viper’s reputation ensured meticulous care.
“Unit seventeen is just ahead,” our guide announced, leading us down a side passage lined with numbered iron doors.
The caverns held everything from stolen artwork too recognizable to immediately fence, to crates of exotic spices waiting for market prices to rise, to stashes of charged and uncharged fluxstones of every grade. TheWraith’slast three major hauls had netted us several items too valuable to risk keeping aboard—including a collection of royal jewelry that needed the right buyer. We might have that secret hidden compartment in the hold, but that didn’t mean we wanted to risk these high-value items, not when we had a safe place to store them here.
“How’s your leg holding up?” Viper asked unexpectedly, his voice lacking its usual edge.
The question caught me off guard. “Fine.”
“Good. Need you at full strength when we meet some prospective buyers tomorrow.”
Ah.His concern wasn’t for my well-being but for his profit margins. After each raid, the spoils were divided according to Viper’s ironclad system: half for himself, a tenth for me as first mate, and the remaining forty percent distributed unequally among the crew based on rank and contribution. My shareshould have allowed me to save for a decent prosthetic by now, but the damned pebble-grade fluxstones my current leg required drained my purse nearly as quickly as they drained of power.
After this, I’d need to venture into Duskwater to restock with another batch of stones. The tiny pebbles were efficient enough for lanterns but woefully inadequate for powering a mechanical limb—my leg burned through them at an alarming rate, especially on rough terrain like this path.
The guide stopped before a heavy door marked with our ship’s emblem—a viper wrapped around a black wraith.
“Here we are, gentlemen. Your treasures await. I’ll let Old Harvey know you’re here.”
I followed Viper into the small cavern. The space was crammed with our ill-gotten gains—crates stacked nearly to the ceiling, some marked with the emblems of noble houses whose ships we’d raided. Lanterns hung from iron hooks embedded in the rock walls, casting long shadows across our treasures.
Viper pulled out several sheets of paper from inside his coat and unfolded them with unnecessary flourish. From his shoulder bag, he extracted several items wrapped in velvet—special loot he’d kept separate from the main haul. A jeweled dagger, a small golden statue, and what appeared to be a ceremonial mask inlaid with precious stones.
“I’ll add these to the inventory,” he said, carefully placing them atop a nearby crate.
I watched as he moved between the stacks, occasionally prying open a lid to peer inside before making notations on his papers. The scratching of his quill echoed in the confined space.
This was Viper’s true passion—not the thrill of the hunt or even the joy of command, but the meticulous accounting of wealth. How many times had I heard his grand plan? Amass enough gold to purchase a private island, fortify it against thesea monsters he enjoyed slaughtering, and live out his days in luxury. A pirate’s retirement plan.
I often wondered how close he was to his goal. Probably not as close as he should be, given his propensity for blowing substantial sums on ridiculous purchases. Just last month, he’d spent an obscene amount on a “genuine” kraken tentacle preserved in spirits—almost certainly fake. For all his talk of being a master businessman, Viper had the financial discipline of a drunken noble’s son on his first visit to a brothel.
The scrape of boots announced Old Harvey’s arrival. The keeper of the caverns entered with a bottle of rum tucked under one arm and three tumblers clutched in his gnarled hand. The scar across his cheek pulled his smile into something resembling a grimace, his shaggy gray beard nearly hiding it altogether.
“Captain Viper! And the Reaper himself! Been too long, lads!” Harvey’s enthusiasm filled the small space as he set the glasses down and poured generous measures of amber liquid.
“How’s business, Harvey?” Viper asked, momentarily distracted from his inventory.
I didn’t wait for the pleasantries. I grabbed my tumbler and downed the rum in one burning swallow, welcoming the heat that spread through my chest. Anything to make this miserable day pass quicker.
I leaned against the rough cavern wall, letting the empty tumbler dangle from my fingers as Viper and Harvey settled into their familiar dance of half-truths and veiled threats. “Heard you had a close call with Sunada’s forces last month,” Harvey said, stroking his shaggy beard. “Three ships, wasn’t it?”
