Curiosity flickered in Varyn’s eyes. “Well, hello there,” he purred. “How nice of your queen to send me such a pretty little treat.”
“If you touch her, you lose the hand.” Quentin growled the warning before he could choke it back, words slipping through clenched teeth.
Yeah, diplomacy wasn’t for him.
The pirate lord’s eyes slid to Quentin. “Quite a threat from someone standing so far from his cushioned castle.” He cocked his head, surveying Quentin with a closeness that made his skin crawl. “And you are…?”
Quentin answered with a glare.
Delaynie elbowed him sharply in the side. He winced.
“Quentin,” he said slowly, begrudgingly. “One of the queen’s sworn and bonded Armature.”
Varyn and Darius—and the other three sailors in the room—barked their laughter. Quentin’s hackles rose in answer. “An Armature?You?” Varyn’s smile took a wicked twist. “You hardly look capable of beating an inexperienced deckhand.”
“Good. Underestimating me is how fuckers like you die.”
Delaynie looked ready to murder him, but the pirate lord just chuckled again. “At least you have spirit.” Varyn meandered a few more steps into the center of the room. “Now, are you going to quit threatening me and tell me why you bothered coming all this way? Or should I just toss you into my cells and sail you back out into the sea to be swallowed by the monsters of the deep?”
Quentin swallowed. His heart hammered in his chest, his anger and frustration boiling his blood.
This was stupid. Foolish. Hehatedthese pirates. Hated their arrogance, their cruelty, their ambivalence. Hated how they’d attacked his city without a care to the world, like the death of his people was nothing more than a game.
Yet he remembered what his queen had asked of him. What she needed from him.
There was a greater evil in the world, and they had one chance at stopping him. Was it unlikely that what they sought was here? Yes. But there was still a chance. For that, Quentin could swallow his hatred.
One day, when Kol was defeated, he’d have his pound of flesh. But for now… For now, he would do what he had to do.
As he’d always done.
“There’s an evil,” he began, drawing in a deep, calming inhale. “One that has been dormant for thousands of years, but now threatens everything—not just Onita, but everyone on the continent. And my queen needs your help to defeat it.”
“How so?” Varyn lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed.
Quentin gritted his teeth but forged on. “She wrote you a letter, explaining everything.” He reached for his back pocket, searching for the sealed letter.
But…
Fuck.
Quentin’s stomach bottomed out, his hands finding only fabric. Yes, he’d put the letter in that pocket several days ago, when they’d first boardedThe Vesper. He’d then stuffed it into one of their chests on that first night, not wanting to lose it.
Of course, that chest now sat on the bottom of the Mirrored Sea.
“You look like you lost something, Armature. Care to share?”
Quentin ignored the pirate lord, instead finding Delaynie’s gaze.
One job. He’d hadonefucking job. Get Mariah’s letter to the pirate lord, then convince him not to kill them both and instead let them search their libraries, if they had any. Of course, his lack of foresight, once again, had ruined everything.
He expected to see a similar panic in Delaynie’s expression.
Instead, he saw…calm?
The lady turned back to the pirate lord, lifting her chin with that imperious grace she wielded so well. “The letter was lost at sea, my lord. But I know its contents.”
Varyn rolled his eyes. “Then for the love of the gods, speak. I’m getting bored of this circular nonsense.”
