But I’m not lying down for her. I’m facing her head-on, just like you’d expect. If she thinks she’s got the patience to wear me down, she’s in for a long fight.
So, thanks, old man. And I’m sorry—for all of it.
Your reckless daughter”
I pause, jaw tight, and glance down at my scrawling mess of ink. Somehow, at some point, a tear managed to slip down my cheek, leaving a cold, irritating streak behind. I swipe it away fast, not keen on Zayan catching a hint of it.
But knowing him, he probably noticed anyway. He’s just acting like he didn’t, eyes fixed on the horizon, giving me space without making a show of it. Damn him for being as decent as he is infuriating—this smug, reckless Marauder.
A faint smirk finds its way to my lips as I grip the quill again, adding one last line to the message.
“P.S. Thanks for letting a Marauder chase me down. With him around, maybe I’ll beat that cursed bitch yet.”
Satisfied, I fold the parchment and slip it into the bottle, sealing it tight. I stand, tucking it carefully into a nook between two rocks—the closest thing we have to a pirate post office. There it’ll wait, safe until someone retrieves it.
If they ever do, that is. Hopefully they do. While I’m still breathing.
30
Vinicola
“So, what’s the deal with the alchemist’s debt anyway?” I ask Fabien, as we make yet another round past the shop’s window, like we’re the least conspicuous men in the entire port. Fabien, naturally, refused to wait inside the shop, claiming the air was ‘stale’.
Because what’s a bit of stale air compared to lurking pirates possibly wanting our heads on sticks?
But Fabien’s got asystem,apparently. His grand theory is that if we keep walking in circles, no one will have the time to recognize us. Pirates, in particular, are apparently powerless against the sight of men in constant motion. It’s all part of his ‘blend in by standing out’ approach.
So here we are, pacing like fools around the alchemist’s front door, and I’m meant to believe this isn’t drawing attention.
“The debt started with a bet. I told the alchemist I’d prove there were gateways across the seas. He didn’t believe me. So, I promised I’d bring back something from inside a gateway to make him help me with whatever I needed.”
I raise an eyebrow, suppressing a chuckle as I glance over at him. “And he agreed? Just like that? No offense, Mr. Madman, but it sounds like a rather ambitious bet. I’d think an alchemist would be a touch more… skeptical.”
Fabien lets out a dry, humorless chuckle, his gaze sweeping across the horizon. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? But scientists—especially those tough enough to survive a pirate-infested island—know a thing or two about throwing away chunks of their lives in exchange for a promise of discovery. Make no mistake, though. He’s scum, like everyone here in the Archipelago.”
He says it with such conviction that it almost breaks something inside me a little. Sure, the islands are filled with double-crossers, swindlers, and rogues. But I happen to know there are a few precious diamonds glinting amidst all that grime—like Miss Captain. And, if I may be so bold, myself.
I may be many things, but a liar? A killer? A… cheater? No. I love love, and all the beautiful souls I’ve been fortunate enough to charm have known that when my song called me away, it was time to part. Perhaps a few have gotten a tad fiery over it, but I was always clear about my intentions. Always.
I glance at Fabien, raising a brow and putting on my most offended look. “Excuse me?” I say, lightening my tone as much as possible. “I am hardly scum like the rest of them. Think of me more as… scum-lite. Half the guilt, all the flavor.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is that so? And what makes you so different, then? Besides a flimsy exterior and lighter eyes?”
Straightening up, I give him my most earnest expression, channeling the look of a man of profound integrity. “For starters, I have a moral code. I might be a drifter and a lover of… well, many things, but I don’t lie about who I am or what I’m after. I’m as honest as a well-aged wine, and in a place like this, that’s got to be worth something. Plus, I’m a brilliant cook, adecent dancer, and an exceptional storyteller. Truly, the whole package.”
He just looks at me, his eyelids lowering as though he’s already over this conversation. “So what is it you want?” he asks, his voice full of skepticism.
“From you lot?” I quip, raising an eyebrow.
“There’s got to be some reason you didn’t bolt when you had the chance. Sticking close to the Captain and her surly shadow—that doesn’t exactly scream freedom. I heard they offered you a way out.”
“You think I need a reason to stay?” I try for the perfect devil-may-care grin, tossing in a casual shrug for good measure. “Maybe I’m here because…well, maybe I like it here. The thrill, the company. What’s not to like?”
Fabien’s only response is a skeptical grunt, one laced with a disappointment so thick it squeezes my chest. I throw my hands up, palms out.
“Fine, if youmustknow,“ I say, letting my voice drop low. “It’s simple: they actually want me around. Unlike most.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “They want you around? Really?”
