Page 37 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

ROGUE

I released Ara’s hand to throw an arm over her front.

A muscle ticked in my jaw. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Gazes bounced from one face to the next. Ewan didn’t lower his weapon, Iaso stood behind him, and Terran beside her. Calypso remained still with a cocksure smile, chin high.

She looked to me, throwing her arms out to the sides, ready to spew words that would undoubtedly waste our time—until she noticed Ara.

Her smile faltered. “I believe I’ve found a weapon that may be helpful.”

Ewan lifted the blade into the crook beneath her jaw. “She’s not supposed to be here.” He threw a glance in our direction. “She wasn’t aboard the ship when we departed.”

Iaso’s ring-filled fingers curled around Ewan’s hand. He glared but let her lower his arm.

Ara asked, “How did you get here?”

“How many ways are there to travel by sea?” Calypso sneered.

Fire roared in my veins, but it was Terran who snapped, “You tell us.”

She regarded him with a slow exhale before she reached into her satchel and laid a rolled parchment onto the table in the center of the room.

“Look, I came with what I believe to be helpful,” she said, “but if you plan to simply interrogate me the entire time, tell me now, so that I may take my leave.”

Cautiously, we closed in around the table. Iaso unrolled the scroll, narrowed eyes sliding from it to her sister. Ewan peeked over her shoulder, head tilted.

I leaned forward on my hands. “Why would you help us?”

“Other than Iaso being my flesh and blood?” she said, and Iaso scoffed. “I came across some information you’ll find invaluable.”

Ara asked, “What is it?”

Calypso nodded to Iaso, who stretched the scroll out on the table. An ancient star map sprawled across the decaying parchment, inked in faded black. Unmarked islands speckled the edge, but the mainland swallowed the bottom half.

Calypso met Iaso’s gaze. “A few centuries ago, I heard the whispers of a weapon that could kill anything.”

“Just whispers?” Iaso breathed. “You didn’t search for it?”

“Truthfully, I laughed it off—chalked it up to another half-baked, delirious pirate that spent months out at sea. So, no, I didn’t search for it. I didn’t even believe it existed.”

I tapped my finger, slow and deliberate. “But you do now?”

“I’m beginning to. The old sailors certainly do. A few claim to have known a man who knew a man…” She rolled her eyes, gesturing with her hands. “The point is, people have laid eyes on it—many people. It continues to pop up throughout the centuries.”

“I might’ve heard of it, actually.” Terran lifted a hand to his jaw, brows furrowed. “It wasn’t referred to as some all-powerful weapon, but about two centuries ago, there were rumblings of a man who killed a Puer Mortis.”

Ara stiffened.

Calypso released a thoughtful hum. “Where was this?”

“I lived in Rainsmyre at the time, but I heard the story from a traveler, swore up and down he witnessed the whole thing in Canyon—or outside Canyon’s border, technically.

Spell and all.” He ran his hand down his face.

“According to him, blood still wet the blade when the owner traded it for a glass of whiskey. He’d been a drunkard.

Killed the unkillable to wet his parched gullet. ”

“A blade?” Calypso asked. “Dagger, sword, knife, axe—what kind of blade?”

Terran shook his head. “If they specified, I have no recollection of that. I only remember as much as I do because the whole thing sounded so outlandish.”

“I haven’t narrowed down what type of weapon it is.

Between the dozen men I spoke to, I’ve gotten a broadsword, a bow and its special arrows, a dagger, and a mace.

” She counted the weapons on her fingers, scowling at the last one.

With an annoyed huff, she dropped her face to the map. “You said that was two centuries ago?”

“Aye, but I can’t get any more specific than that. My memory isn’t that good.”

“I only ask because the closest I came to its location was this map, passed down through generations of an established family in King’s Port—and by established, I mean wealthy and well-known.” She laughed with a feline smile. “Well, they were.”

Iaso scowled, and Calypso rolled her eyes and pointed to the intricate compass rose. A ring sat in the center of the cardinal points and circled a speck of an island, no larger than a grain of rice.

“They say that two hundred and two years ago, their ancestor hid the weapon here, deep among the seas, to never be found again.”

Iaso lifted a brow. “Sounds like a family secret. How did you come by it?”

“I have my ways,” Calypso mused with a shrug. “Either the traveler was lying or this family has been guarding an impostor for the past two centuries.”

I tilted my head. “How did you know we need a weapon to ‘kill anything?’ ”

“Your friends have loose lips. The blonde one, especially.”

“No,” Ara snapped. “Livvy wouldn’t risk such a thing.”

Calypso didn’t acknowledge her, and irritation pricked my gut. Something wasn’t right—but we did need such a weapon.

“Wait.” Terran shook his head. “I fear I’ve either missed our loose-lipped friends or a few too many nights of sleep. Why do we need this weapon? Adonis isn’t… He’s not a Puer Mortis.”

Ara ran her fingers over her wrist, and I stared, unblinking, at the smooth skin.

Those shackles had cut down to her fucking bone, one wrist shattered in two places, and the wounds had infected her blood.

By the time Iaso had healed herself enough to help, Ara burned with fever. It was a miracle she survived.

Yet, she absentmindedly searched for the marks like they had been the only evidence of her suffering.

Heat rose in the room, and Ara stuttered, stealing a glance in my direction before she managed, “He has healing magic.”

“Magic,” I seethed, “that allowed him to regrow a body part and come back from the brink of death. Twice.”

Terran scanned our faces like he couldn’t make sense of it. With a faint shake of his head, he muttered, “No, that’s…not possible.”

“It is possible, and it’s real,” Ara said. “I saw it. Doran saw it.”

“How exactly does this weapon work?” I pressed Calypso. “Does it possess its own magic? Is it made of a spell-bound metal we haven’t heard of? Is it cursed?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.”

Ara gawked at her, and Iaso groaned, Ewan burning with disdain.

“This could be a complete waste of time—a false hope,” Iaso hissed. “Did you just come to toy with us?”

“No,” Calypso snapped. “I went to the location, and the cavern was marked by a spelled boundary—or the remnants of one. Someone broke it before I arrived.”

“Oh, the weapon wasn’t there,” I deduced, nodding with a wry grin. “Convenient.”

“No,” she said again, “but a word was etched into the stone where the weapon should’ve been: Sacrifice .”

“So, you have stories and a carving on a wall in an empty cave?” I released a dry laugh. “That proves…nothing.”

Her cold eyes hardened. “I wouldn’t have come for nothing.”

“Then, I fail to see why you’re here,” I scoffed, throwing my hands out. “You have a map that leads to where it’s not, no true sightings, and no solid proof of its existence.”

Iaso cleared her throat. “It could be a lead worth following. We have nothing else to go on.”

Ara rested a hand on my forearm. “If the cave is empty, then someone took it. Someone has it. A weapon of that caliber—there’s bound to be talk.”

“Canyon,” Terran blurted. “Word spreads faster there than anywhere else, and I have friends there. They can start asking around.”

Ara bit the inside of her cheek. Her worried gaze returned to me, the furrow between her brows deep.

I smoothed it with my thumb as I said, “Write them. If the weapon exists, we need it before Winter Solstice.”

He gave a sharp nod and strode to the door, pausing only to glance over his shoulder at Calypso. That unnerving feline smile returned as she lifted her fingers and waved him on.

I sat in a chair, legs spread, and waited for his footsteps to fade. “He’s lying.”

Ewan reared back. “Terran? About what?”

“Terran?” Calypso echoed. “That’s what—that’s his name?”

“Yes,” Iaso answered, too quickly.

I narrowed my eyes at her, at both of them. “I don’t know what about, but he is lying.”

The temperature of the room rose until Ara’s cheeks flushed, and sweat beaded on Ewan’s forehead.

Ara unbuttoned her coat. “His reaction to Adonis’s healing ability was odd. He seemed…confused.”

“That seems to be a frequent occurrence for him,” Calypso mused, reaching for her map.

I leaned forward and slammed a hand over the parchment. The fire in my irises reflected on her face. “You’re lying, too.”

She tensed. “About what, hmm? I didn’t come all this way to lie to you.” She released a low chuckle. “I could’ve done that in a letter.”

“I hope you’re not lying,” Ara said quietly, “not about this.”

Calypso’s humor faded. She slid the map from under my hand and rolled it up. “I wouldn’t lie about this.” As she tucked it into her satchel, she said to Iaso, “I’ll continue my inquiry in King’s Port. Ships come and go daily. With new men come new stories.”

“Let us know what you find,” Iaso urged.

Calypso slid past us and left without another word. Meanwhile, Ara surveyed Iaso.

She lifted a brow. “Yes?”

Ara shook her head. “Nothing, it’s just…you two look incredibly similar. Identical, other than the eyes.”

Iaso chuckled. “Well, we are twins.”

“Ah, yes, the twin sister you lied about for years.” I sneered. “Oh, how grateful you were to have a son—family, at last. Tell me, did she ever cross your mind when you looked me in the eye and recounted how you’d been without a family for centuries?”

Ewan straightened.

“I had been without one for centuries,” she said. “Since the moment I cut contact with her half a millennium ago.”

Ara asked, “Why did you cut her off?”