“I wouldn’t dare. You stink terribly of fish rot.”
She huffs. “So where to first,captain?”
There’s zero reason for the way my title rolls off her tongue to affect me so much, but it stirs something low in my core.“Twin Serpents, it’s the closest.”
She nods. “A three day sail then.”
“Two. Though I don’t blame you for assumingThe Gilded Hartis as slow as theSea Bane.
Without another word, Odelia lies down, putting her back to me. For a moment, I watch the slow rise and fall of her chest. Part of me wants to let her sleep, then I can finally have some peace, but the other half of me knows I’ll be up all night. Why should she get to rest?
“So does your captain keep a tally of all the people he’s attacked or does he crush them under his boot without a thought?” My voice carries softly through the quiet of the room.
She doesn’t move. But there’s no way she’s asleep already. After a stretched silence, she sighs. “Absolutely. He journals every night with vanilla scented ink,” her words float towards me, dripping with sarcasm.
I stretch out my legs. “I’m sure he takes the same pains for his beloved crew. I’ve always wondered, who cares for injured pirates? With the amount of scars on you theSea Banemust have a shit medic. Then again the inland towns would be too weary to do a better job. Of course, you could likely force them at blade point.”
“Fear works just as well as kindness. Sometimes better.” Her voice is quieter this time, almost sad.
Something in my chest shifts. Perhaps even the most fearsome pirates still had feelings—though who knew which ones. She did seem to hate it on that ship.
I stare out the round, glass window, watching the glittering waves shimmer under the night sky. “What’s Ivor like? Or his daughter—Nisse, right? I heard she’s a hard ass. Coated in thatmuch blood I bet she’s slimy too. Not enough ocean in the world to wash that away. I wonder if the navy will string them up together. Maybe I should take the honour myself. There isn’t a person on this ship who wouldn’t enjoy that sight.”
“I’m sure,” she says wryly. “Ivor’s reputation isn’t exaggerated. And Nisse . . . well, she’s her father’s daughter. I’ll be glad to be rid of both of them.”
Ocean water slaps the sides ofThe Gilded Hart, wood creaking underfoot. After a while, I think she’s actually asleep, her breath evening to a slow rhythm. Perhaps it’s for the best—not that I’ll find much rest tonight. I know she can slip out of those manacles and I’m not going to risk her escaping again.
Hours pass by. At some point, I fetch myself another whiskey, making sure to take my time with the burning liquid. I need it to last me a while. Three sips in, and my thoughts travel to my father. The last time I’d spoken with him wasn’t pleasant. It never is.
He thinks I should be performing my sea-given duties, like my sister Selene and my younger brother Dash, and there’s never any point trying to convince him I need answers. I need to know what happened to our mother—I’ll travel each part of the Adamaris Sea if I have to, cleaning away every bit of pirate filth I find on the way.
A soft breath escapes my lips as I pull the map from my other trouser pocket. It softly crinkles as I flatten it on my lap. My gaze flicks to the swirling symbol in the top left corner. As far as I’m aware no one has seen something like this in a long time. The scribes in the royal archives would be shocked.I had little information about my elemental bloodline. Most of what I knew was what my father could tell me and what I’d searched for myself. My mother never spoke of family—didn’t have any. Water elementals are solitary creatures, rare, even without the crush of other races pushing them into wilder waters. But this sort of relic doesn’t reveal itself by chance.
At some point, I set my glass down. It hits the table with a sharp clink—louder than I meant.
Odelia jolts upright like I’d drawn a blade.
Back pressed to the wall, eyes wide, breathing shallow. She scuttles away, fast and twitchy, like she’s expecting the worst.
Her gaze flicks to the glass. Just a glass. No threat.
I meet her eyes—steady, unflinching. I don’t speak. I don’t offer comfort. I just look.
She doesn’t say a word.
Minutes drag by, thick with silence and the creak of the ship settling into the tide. Eventually, she stills. Tension drains slowly from her limbs, and she slips lower against the wall, chin tucked, lashes low.
Her face is so soft in sleep.
I think back to our earlier conversation. The irritation in her voice makes her edges sharp. A viper would have to be. But in sleep she could be anyone. A baker, a kelp farmer, a mother.
My fingers slip inside my trouser pocket where I still carry her necklace, wondering if she could ever have done something to deserve it, maybe before she turned to this life. I run my eyes over the salt-crusted wave of hair resting on her shoulders. How can someone so vitriolicbe tied to something so precious—how didsheget her hands on a water elemental necklace?
I could force the answer out of her, but to what end? We’ll find the treasure, and then I’ll be rid of her.
And when she's gone, I'll catch up with her crew and bleed every single one of them dry.
For Otto. For every innocent who’s fallen upon a Viper’s blade.
