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Every pirate has dreamed of Thaeto’s treasure. It is said to be an endless loot of gold and gems—a god’s fortune—and the Serpent’s Key is meant to guide whoever is brave enough to wield it to the treasure’s location.

“It is said to be cursed by Ujun himself and kept within the king’s vault,” I note before glancing toward Amara. She’s looking aimlessly at the floor and I know her mind is working. Looking back to Red Beard, I ask, “How was it stolen?”

Red Beard leans his beefy arms on the top of his desk. The old wood creaks beneath him. “Gods cannot bestow curses, child. Only witches can do that.”

Amara has the audacity to scoff at him and he snarls in her direction.

I swear to the heavens she is going to get us killed before we even have a chance to make it back out the door.

Most captains would slice her tongue from her mouth as punishment for speaking out of turn and continuing to cause dismay.

Snaking my fingers over her wrist, I give her a squeeze.

Not now , I try to say. The last thing I need is for my quartermaster to fall by the dagger of a vampyre.

The crew would never let me hear the end of it, and her death would be one more tick against my name to every other pirate on the Aelynthi Sea.

“ A betrayer of The Code and a failure to her crew,” they would say.

“In the matter of it being stolen”—Red Beard runs a meaty paw through his long beard that is more gray now than red—“it hasn’t been yet.”

My brows furrow. “Then how are we to recover it?”

His gaze withers toward the door at my back, like he can see the offender right through the wooden planks. His voice lowers. “There have been whispers on my docks that someone is meant to steal it tomorrow eve and I have considerable reason to believe these tellings.”

“Who?” I whisper.

“Blythe Quint.” Red Beard spits his name like a hex.

Blythe Quint . I guess the battle against him will come much sooner than I thought. Some shadowed part of me feels excited for the chance to bury my dagger in his belly.

“Blythe is vengeful, Red Beard. He will come after us both.”

Blythe has always been known to pursue his prizes with abandon. Once he decides a prize is to be his, he stops at nothing to ensure he retrieves it. He is a hammer, and anything, or anyone, who gets in his way is a nail to be struck.

The right corner of Red Beard’s lip arches as he leans forward and scowls.

“Fear does not grip me the way it does you, child. And if you are the true daughter of your father, then this should be a suitable task.” He leans back in his chair and strokes his beard.

“Unless you have more of your mother’s tainted blood in you. She was certainly the weaker one.”

I glower at the man and curse my past for always coming back to haunt me.

My mother . . . I cannot think of her.

But my father. Ekhar Stone . The most famous pirate of his time.

The most well-respected pirate, too. His love for the open sea was unmatched and his fearlessness drove him to endless treasures found in the most dangerous corners of the realm.

He was celebrated by all—until he fell in love with my mother and was hunted to the end of the sea before meeting his demise.

He would have taken this task from Red Beard without hesitation. Would have chased Blythe to the edges of the world, if necessary.

He was never afraid.

So why am I?

“We will do it,” I say, knowing there is no alternative.

Amara shifts beside me; I’ll be hearing her thoughts on this as soon as we leave the tavern.

Leather creaks as Red Beard settles back into his chair. Yellowed teeth with decaying edges of black shine from his spittle in the candlelight as he smiles wickedly at me. “Good. That is very good, Rowenya Stone.”

There are no more questions that need answering—or no more that Red Beard would entertain.

So, without another look at him, I turn and make my way for the door.

Amara follows close behind. As my hand extends for the doorknob, I hear Red Beard take a sputtering inhale and my heart drops to my stomach.

“Before you go, there is the matter of your payment.” His crackling voice skitters along my skin. I close my eyes, readying myself for the blow he’s about to land.

Peering at him over my shoulder, I narrow my gaze. “What of it?”

“Given the sour temper of your quartermaster and your inability to keep her silver tongue behind her teeth, your payment for finding The Serpent’s Key is severed in half.”

Amara’s dark eyes grow wide with anger and regret.

Half the sum of what we are owed. That’s the payment for the most dangerous assignment we’ve ever been given—that likely anyone has ever been given.

Rage sings in my blood and I have half a mind to run my sword straight through Red Beard’s protruding belly, even if my swift death from his vampyre guard would surely follow.

Head drooping, my eyes settle on the hardwood floors beneath my feet.

Sticky grime coats each one. It is a common sight, as most of the places in Esoros are poorly kept and smell of rot.

A reminder of everything my crew and I are fighting for—a way to be unchained from this venomous place, to . . . wipe away the blight of my past.

Keeping my sword sheathed at my side, I lift my head and feel an emptiness in my chest as I nod at Red Beard. “So be it.”

Amara inhales sharply, but I ignore it as I move for the door again and never look back.