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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

JAVIER

T he sun sagged low in the sky, casting shadows across the grimy cobblestones of the slums. The alley behind the tavern was filthy, reeking of stale beer and piss. Rats darted between piles of garbage, their squeaks drowned out by the distant roar of drunken laughter.

Javier Soleno hit the dirt with a grunt, the tavern keeper’s meaty hands shoving him out like garbage.

“No coin, no bets! Get out, you worthless drunk!” the man bellowed, his voice loud enough to rattle the stones. He hurled Javier’s tricorn hat after him like an insult.

Javier lay there, the taste of blood and humiliation mingling on his tongue. His ribs screamed with every shallow breath. He coughed and spat, the crimson flecks stark against the dirt.

“Get out of here!”

The tavern door slammed shut. Javier reached for his hat, brushing the grime off it. His fingers paused.

Footsteps approached. A gang of locals—slum rats, just like him—swaggered into view, their grins wide and cruel.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Javier,” one drawled, shielding his eyes dramatically as if blinded by the sight. “The mighty second-in-command…” He sneered, his grin sharpening. “Oh wait—you’re not second anymore, are you?”

“Rum’s killing you, Soleno,” another added, leaning closer. “Or is it life that’s finally done you?”

Javier raised a trembling hand in a weak attempt at a wave. “Gentlemen,” he muttered, his voice dripping sarcasm.

They laughed and moved on. Javier leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly. The world swam before him, and his stomach churned violently. “I’d rather be seasick,” he mumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “At least I liked that.”

And then he saw it—a cane, its handle carved into the head of a peacock. His stomach dropped as his gaze traveled up its length.

No. Please, no.

“Jessalyn,” he muttered under his breath. “I should have known. This day couldn’t get any worse. Are we in the end of days?”

Javier let out a dry, bitter chuckle. Maybe death was circling closer than he thought, dredging up ghosts to taunt him before the end. How else could he explain it? First Irene, now Jessalyn, like life itself was dragging old wounds to the surface, just to watch him bleed.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be tucking in your little ones or polishing that oversized ego?”

Jessalyn tilted her head, unimpressed. With a flick of her wrist, she hooked a pail of water with her cane and dumped it over his head.

Javier gasped as the cold water hit him. “You’re still talking too much,” Jessalyn said, her voice razor-sharp.

“And you ain’t saying enough,” Javier shot back, shaking the water from his hair. “What do you want, Jess?”

Jessalyn leaned forward on her cane, her presence an unspoken command. “To pull you out of this misery before you rot here.”

"Oh noble of you, but you had your chance nineteen years ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

His mind drifted back to those dark days after his father’s death, the nights spent scavenging for food, the cold rain soaking through his clothes as he slept on the streets. Where was she when I needed her? When I was eating burnt bread and fighting for a place?

Jessalyn’s voice cut through his haze. “So this is it? The life of the best navigator I’ve ever known. Weren’t you supposed to be sailing the seas with a crew? What happened to the Jackals? You just returned from sea, and already they’ve discarded you? Seems they don’t hold you in much regard these days. Now, you’re just another low-rank sailor...”

Javier managed to stand, swaying on his feet like a ship in a storm. He wiped his clothes and struggled to put his hat back on. “Well, business ain’t exactly flourishing these days, Jess,” he said, mocking her. Jessalyn’s expression was one of disgust. “So you’ve been unloading your guild’s wares to the taverns, huh?”

“Not that I ain’t grateful for your company,” Javier said, ignoring the question as he turned away. “But I’ve got places to be.”

Jessalyn leaned on her cane, taking a measured step closer. “Leave your guild. Join me.”

Javier let out a sharp laugh, glancing around as though searching for someone to share in the absurdity. “As much as I enjoy fine wine, Jess, I’m afraid we’d be a terrible match.”

Jessalyn’s eyes darkened, and she lowered her voice. “It’s more than an adventure this time. It’s a treasure. A prize that could rewrite history. More gold than paradise itself could hold."

The words struck a chord, dragging Javier back to the shadow of his father’s memory. His frown deepened, interest flickering despite himself. “A treasure?” he asked, his voice low.

Jessalyn closed her eyes, her voice a murmur. “The world is vast. There will always be something worth stealing.”

The words rang in his mind, sharp and unwelcome, an echo of his father’s voice. Familiar, but bitter. The memory rose like bile, and he shoved it down.

Javier shook his head, forcing a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “The offer’s tempting, Jess, but I’ll pass. I know how your adventures end.”

His gaze darkened, haunted by the memory of his father’s doom. An image he could never erase, no matter how many bottles of rum he drowned it in.

Jessalyn leaned closer, her tone like a secret wrapped in venom. “It was your father’s dream.”

Javier froze.

“He was part of it,” she continued. “Years ago, this was our ultimate quest. The goddess Nehalennia. The sapphire. Your father gave his life chasing it. I have the ashes now, the key to unlocking what he couldn’t. But I need someone who knows the seas like he did. Someone like you. A second in command.”

Javier’s voice was a whisper. “Nehalennia…The goddess of the seven seas.”

“You can finish what he started, Javier.”

His throat tightened, and he shook his head, stepping back.

Jessalyn’s eyes glinted with something dangerous. “If you change your mind, come to me by dawn. After that, it’ll be too late.”

"Do you regret it?" Javier asked. Jessalyn turned around but remained silent.

"I'll make the question clearer," Javier continued, his voice cold. "Do you regret leaving your best friend's son starving in the streets, in the cold, while you sent his father to his death?"

Jessalyn didn’t blink. "No. Regret makes you weak. And I swore, a long time ago, that I would never be weak again," she said quietly before turning on her heel and walking away.

Javier leaned back against the wall, cursing under his breath.

The promise of gold whispered to him, the burn of danger igniting in his veins. "Damn it,” he whispered.