“Aye, I do.And I don’t give a rat-tailed fuck, ‘cause itwouldn’t a done me no good at all.”She pointed to the dark corridor at the endof the chapel.“You saw my ship skulking nearby.If I leave this giant corpse,it’ll be as a lamb to slaughter.I’d never make the trip outta this scorch.Thesecond I step away, I’ll be dead by dusk, if I’m lucky.”
“If you don’t leave this skeleton,” Isaac said, “it’ll beworse, I promise you.Do you know what necrotic magic does to skin and bone?Doyou know how easily a sorcerer could wrench your soul from its tether?”
She took a breath, looked at him a moment longer, and pushedherself up to a full sitting position, trailing a hand over the leatherplackart circling her belly.“Take another gander at these scars, Isaac.I knowyou like to look.”
He glanced away, trying to spy theonyx statue on the altar.Green firelight danced across the pews and piers.
“Look at me, you little shit.”
He looked at her, grimacing with discomfort.
She guided his gaze across her torso, pointing out the bloodstains on her vest, a welt on her shoulder, the scabbed-over cuts on her arms,even a purple bruise on the thin region of fur beside her breast.When she wassure she had his attention, she undid one of the straps tying her leatherplackart together, peeling the stiff material from her waist.
He saw, quite plainly, that her entire left side was coatedin blood, from the bottom of her ribs to the top of her pelvis.The scarlet wasfresh.It matted to her fur like porridge on a carpet, drowning the brown spotsand hints of abdominal muscle.He could not see exactly what the injury was,but the amount of blood left no question as to its severity.
“Gods,” Isaac said, startled.
“Yeah,” Zaria replied.“Thought so.”
“Have you just been ...walking around like this?Thewhole time?”
“Ain’t had a choice, squire.”She looked down, prodding afinger at the worst of the blood.Her snout curled with a hiss.“It needs stitchin’, and I ain’t got the tools.”
Isaac watched her retie the strap of her armor.He gave asmall tug against the rope on his wrists.He had managed to cut through some ofthe hemp, but not enough to pull it apart on his own.
“You gonna listen now?”Zaria asked.
Isaac let his hands fall, watching her.
“For my one good deed,” Zaria continued, “I got the pleasureof being whipping post for a ship of angry pirates.I got tied to a mast,denied food and drink, and I got cut by every sharp object the imaginationallowed.Only reason I’m still drawing breath is ‘cause the captain of theSaberwanted me subject to treason.”
She leaned in, and the smell of her unwashed animal muskfell over him like a blanket.He wanted to cringe away, but there was nowhereto go.
“You ever had someone explain how they’re going to tortureyou to death?”She traced a claw around the edge of his ear.“They say it realslow like, relishin’ every word.Knowin’ you can’t donothin’ to help yourself.”
Isaac remembered the lashing of the cane.
He did not answer.
“My captain,” Zaria said, “was soaking her britches, justfrom the thought of pulling my entrails out with hot pincers, smashing bone,ripping flesh, wringing every ounce of pain to the drop.Now, after that, youthink I’m eager to see her face chasing me down a dune?”
Isaac gave a noncommittal response.
“I’ll assume,” the hyena said, “you don’t know who she is.Black Eye Soren, captain of theSilent Saber.One of the few pirateswith a reputation for meanness that ain’t tall tales and exaggeration.Sherelishes putting down rowdy sailors.Any skimmer she graces better not have asingle unbent knee on its planks, or it’ll be drenched in blood before half thehold’s been taken.She’s not crazy.She ain’t reckless.And she ain’t a badcaptain, neither.Generous with her grog.”Zariafingered a spot on her waist, grimacing.“She just waits for an excuse.Onceshe’s got it, you’ll wish you were never born.”
He lay back on the stone tiles, watching her.
“I’m not risking that again,” Zaria said.“I ain’t goin’back.I’ll take any bloody chance other than seeing her standard come my way.”
“How, exactly,” Isaac asked, “is this treasure supposed tostop her?A wealth of gold sitting at the bottom of a tomb won’t do you muchgood.It might as well just be some shiny pebbles.”
“A vain hope is better than none.”
She looked away, blinking at the fires, as if she were onlynoticing them for the first time.The chapel was silent and gloomy.A vaultedceiling perched beneath a spine.
“Fine,” Isaac said, holding up his hands.“If you’re soeager for survival, untie me.”
She snorted, sitting back fully on his groin.Her usualmirth returned.“Oh, what, I’m supposed to trust you after you stabbed my back,first chance you got?”
