With a sharp jerk of his head, Enyo signaled. Two brutes lunged forward, seizing Lewis by the arms. They dragged him into the firelight, ignoring the muffled protests from the group.
“Before I send you to your grave,plant boy,” Enyo sneered, waving for a crewman to bring over a pail. “You’re going to fix something for me.”
The sailor dumped the contents at Lewis' feet. Wilted Noctilum buds tumbled to the dirt, their shriveled petals a mockery of their once-vibrant glow.
“Tell me,” Enyo said, his voice dangerously smooth, “how do I make them bloom?”
Lewis pushed his glasses up with his shoulder, glancing at the flowers. “Uh… well, only a few species of flora are capable of flowering off the vine?—”
The first punch snapped Lewis’ head to the side.
Vivienne gasped, horror clawing up her throat as his spectacles flew off, landing in the dirt. Blood trickled from his split lip. One of Enyo’s men shook out his fist.
“Let’s try this again,” Enyo drawled. “How do we make these infernal things bloom?”
Lewis straightened, pain written across his face, but defiance burned in his eyes. “Youcan’t,” he rasped. “It’s impossible. There’s nothing we can?—”
Another fist collided with his jaw, sending him reeling.
Vivienne screamed against her gag, her cries drowned beneath the others’ muffled shouts of rage.
"How many flowers did we collect? If memory serves, we picked thirty-four." Enyo reached a hand down to Lewis' face, grabbing him by the chin, forcing him to make eye contact. "A blow for every bud might loosen your tongue... or kill you. I don't have a preference. Rufus, Jonjo, show our guests why no one fucks with me or my crew."
Jonjo’s next blow cracked against Lewis’ ribs, forcing a strangled wheeze from his lungs. Rufus followed with a savage punch to the gut, doubling him over. Another fist to the temple sent him to his knees.
Cirrus thrashed wildly against his bindings, his muffled curses turning into an animalistic growl. Florence’s eyes were ablaze with fury as she writhed, but the knots held firm. Owen bellowed, muscles straining, veins bulging against his skin as he fought against his restraints with every ounce of his remaining strength.
“STOP!” Vivienne tried to scream, but the gag choked her words into strangled sobs.
A brutal kick sent Lewis sprawling in the dirt, a bruised and bloodied heap. He groaned, barely able to lift his head.
Something inside her snapped. The burn of rage consumed her.Lewis doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t kill bugs. He’s never hurt anything or anyone in his life.Vivienne writhed against her bindings. Hot, angry tears streamed down her face as she pushed the gag out of her mouth at last.
“I CAN FIX IT!” The words ripped from her throat, raw and desperate.
Enyo lifted a bony hand, signaling his men to halt. Lewis lay motionless, his breath ragged. Blood seeped into the dust beneath him.
Enyo’s black eyes glinted. “And how do you plan to dothat?”
“I’ll give you ours,” Vivienne said, gasping for breath.
Owen and Florence’s eyes snapped to her in shock. Cirrus mumbled something against his gag—probablyWhat are you doing?—but she ignored them.
“We have one in bloom,” she lied. “Let us go, and it’s yours.”
Enyo scoffed. “Why should I believe you?”
Vivienne held his gaze, steady as steel. “You shouldn’t,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t trust someone who stabbed me either.” Her lips curled as his expression darkened. “But if you untie me, I can show you.”
A sailor reached for her bag.
“You can’t just dump it out,” she snapped. “You’ll crush it, and then you’ll be right back where you started.”
Enyo exhaled through his nose, then flicked a finger. “Fine. Show me.”
A knife slashed through her bindings. She ignored the sting of returning circulation, reached into her tote, and slowly withdrew a single, glowing Noctilum.
The camp stilled. The sailors stared, their unsightly faces illuminated in its eerie light.
