Page 5

Tension swirls in my stomach. “It doesn’t matter why Blythe is going after the Serpent’s Key—all that matters is that we have to intercept him when he does.”

The metal of Wells’s ring catches the flickering candlelight shooting a striking gold ray in several directions.

It was the only thing he had left of his family—a reminder of everything that was lost to him, and the reason he doesn’t give a damn about the life he has left.

Or rather, that he maybe cares too much and doesn’t want to waste a single second of it.

“So, what’s the plan, Captain?” He places an elbow on the table and settles his square chin into the palm of his hand.

Darting my gaze between the two of them, I lean closer to the table. They both follow suit. “The plan is that we’re going to steal it from him.”

“And bring it to Red Beard,” Amara adds, only to catch my mouth tilting upward. Her eyes widen. “We are bringing it to Red Beard, as agreed, aren’t we?” I do not respond. She shakes her head, the wooden beads in her hair clinking together. “Oh, no. No, no, no—I’ve seen that look before.”

“Captain, you can’t seriously be talking about stealing the Serpent’s Key from Blythe Quint and Red Beard,” Wells whispers in open shock. His expression is a hybrid of disbelief, awe, and absolute terror.

“Technically, we’ll only be stealing it from Blythe. It will never be in Red Beard’s possession,” I reply before taking a long sip of my bitter ale.

“Thinking like a pirate,” Wells says.

“That’s because we are pirates.” I set the mug of ale on the table. Foam sloshes against the side of the glass, reminding me of the ocean when the waves are capped in white.

“There are many in this realm who would say otherwise.” Amara settles back into her seat with a solemn look on her face.

It is true. There are many who do not think my crew and I are worthy of the title “pirate,” given our relation to Red Beard.

And maybe they’re right. We’ve betrayed The Code on more than one occasion, and the pursuit of this next bounty will certainly ruffle some feathers, if not send us all to a watery grave.

But I’ve done what I’ve always had to do.

“They do not get to determine what we call ourselves. Pirates are seafaring folk. The ocean’s water runs through their veins. Does it not run through ours?” I ask, brow raised.

“Of course it does.” Amara smirks at the same time Wells says, “Aye.”

“Then we are pirates, no less than any other scoundrel who raises their flag and sails across the Aelynthi Sea.”

“And what of the Serpent’s Key?” Amara asks.

I take in my quartermaster for a moment, reflecting on all the adventures we’ve been on together.

All the treasures we’ve discovered, and the losses we’ve taken.

Through every victory and trial, Amara has been by my side.

Knowing she will be right next to me during this new venture is the only thing that gives me the courage to say, “Blythe will steal it from the king.” My words lower to a barely audible whisper.

“And then we steal it from him and take it for ourselves.”

Amara and Wells are both silent as they look at one another.

It doesn’t matter if I have a plan to betray Red Beard by taking the Serpent’s Key for ourselves in the hopes that it will lead to Thaetos’s treasure, and then our freedom after that—if Amara and Wells are out, there’s nothing I can do. I need them.

It’s Wells who speaks up first. The tail of the green sash falls over the front of his shoulder as he leans forward. “If we do this, Captain, it won’t just be Blythe on our tail. We will have Red Beard and all his goonies, plus the king’s armada.”

“There is nowhere in the Southern Realm we could go where they wouldn’t follow us, where they wouldn’t hunt us down and skin us alive for stealing from them,” Amara adds, her throat bobbing.

I run my fingertip along the edge of the mug. “There are some places that not even Blythe Quint or the king’s armada would dare to go.”

Wells leans back in his seat and scrapes a hand over his face. “The place you speak of isn’t somewhere we should venture to either, Captain.”

“What other choice do we have?” I hiss. “It is either this or we stay indentured to Red Beard for the rest of our lives. Is that what both of you desire? To never sail free across the Aelynthi Sea ever again?”

My chest rises and falls, and yet I can’t catch my breath.

Every day of my life has been a hard-fought war.

Every day I’ve had to claw my way to the surface for air before being pulled under again by some force I have no control over.

Fatigue has settled deep in my soul and I know if I don’t find some way out soon, it will be the end of me.

Amara reaches across the table, settling her hand over mine.

More than just my quartermaster, she is my closest friend and the only person who dares to try to calm the fiery storm raging within me.

“You know we will follow you wherever you decide to lead us, Rowenya. If this is the path you think will gain us our freedom, it is the path we will walk with you.”

Focusing on the feeling of her hand over mine, I let my breathing calm before I look around the tavern. There are a few wandering eyes beneath bushy brows that land on me before they quickly dart away.

Fucking hells.

Wells granted us a distraction and my outburst damn near ruined it.

Taking a long swig of my ale, I pray to the heavens that the other patrons chalk it up to my being deep in the cups and not something worthy of them lending an ear to hear.

I wipe the foam from my mouth with the back of my hand and set my mug back on the table.

Wells stares absently at his own mug as he says, “Just tell us what you need us to do, Captain”—his gaze flicks up to meet mine—“and it will be done.”

And so we spend the rest of the evening hatching our plan until the candles snuff out in the lanterns and the floor of the Misty Sea is littered with puddles of ale and crumbs of cheese and bread.