Page 39 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

RYSEN

C awshome is the busiest port on Galmere, probably the world. So no one pays any mind to us as the Deadwood cruises into the bay in broad daylight.

To our right, the palace sprawls across the edge of the huge, overhanging cliff. The domed roofs and golden brickwork of the multiple towers stretch into the sky, carved with geometric patterns typical of this part of the isles. The walls are deceptively ornate, flowing with plants and greenery.

But the plants hide metal spikes and transmutation circles which incinerate intruders. Avian shifters patrol the skies, and a host of guards, both mortal and immortal, keep watch from atop the walls.

On the left, the imposing tower of the Claw is similarly defended. The harshest prison in the world is actually mainly below ground, where immortal inmates are forced to mine crystals while wearing cuffs which disable their supernatural abilities .

Each of them is permitted a single dagger. Something to 'give them a chance' against the wraiths.

Like their weapons will do anything against those evil creatures.

Most immortals turn the dagger on themselves within days.

Only humans are lucky enough to be locked in the tower above, but their lot isn't much better. They're forced to produce the salt that keeps the miners below safe from the wraiths. Backbreaking work, especially for a mortal.

Few people survive to the end of their sentences in the Claw. Only the Blood Pits in the vampire quarter are more deadly.

Sandwiched between the three bastions of death lies Cawshome city. A vibrant explosion of life and diversity that stretches for miles along the full length of the spiral shaped bay.

What would Nilsa think of the city I was born in? Would she focus on the darkness that pollutes it, like me, or would she enjoy the bright, overwhelming culture of the capital?

"Nothing like home, huh?" Val mutters, absently stroking Titan's head.

The mage stares into the distance as the mastiff sits by his side, watching his master with his head cocked and his tongue lolling out. It would make a sweet picture, if not for the frown on Val's face and the city in the distance.

"It hasn't been my home in centuries." It's changed so much so many times that it's nothing like the city I was born in. "I'll get the barrels ready."

Stomping through the ship feels oddly empty now. Cas is still in his beast form, and has been since Nilsa was snatched out of his arms. Nos hasn't left his room and Kier is... wherever he goes when he wants to be alone .

That conversation with Val is the only communication we've had in days.

I used to think our crew was unshakable. Then we lost our mate.

Goddess, her scent still haunts the corridors. Like she's still here with us, about to pop out of her tiny, sunlit study. I can even smell her in the hold and rage rips into me at the thought of her coming down here and discovering the barrels.

Nos broke down and confessed that Nilsa asked him about it. He told her we're bound by a fae bargain, but she doesn't know that we're trying to fix it. Doing everything to work around the constraints of the damned deal we're stuck in.

I lift the first barrel onto my shoulder and start hefting them up onto the deck.

Val could do this, but I need the exertion. Need to keep busy so I don't think about my tiny mate, on Idos, unprotected.

There's an ominous creak and I have to relax my grip on the barrel or risk damaging it. The Eagle's soldiers aren't forgiving if the cargo turns up in anything less than perfect condition.

I put the first barrel on the deck, then go down and grab the next. The Queen's small dayboat is already drawing up alongside the Deadwood , red sails flashing in the harsh Galmeri sun. I can feel Val's tension in the way the ship starts to lurch.

"Keep it together, Valorean," I mutter, picking up a slightly heavier one.

His hold on his power is as shaky as mine is on my bloodlust. It's the sort of thing that will only get worse the longer he goes without claiming his mate. But the soldiers can't know about Nilsa. We can't paint a target on her back.

I haul the rest of the barrels up quickly, then join Kier and Val on the deck. The three of us are a united front against the soldiers who pour onto the ship like ants, taking up positions with their swords levelled at us.

"Where are the other two?" The puffy moustache on Commander Derrick's face is new, but the disgusted expression on his face is all too familiar. The asshole is nobility and finds dealing with us worse than dealing with dirt, but he doesn't get a choice. The Queen trusts him for some stupid reason. "The shifters?"

"None of your fucking business," Val retorts.

A soldier drives a fist into his gut for his cockiness, and my fists clench in response. Val grunts and bends double as he tries to suck air back into his lungs. When he straightens, there's murder in his eyes.

But he can't strike back. None of us can.

"Fae, answer me. No tricky business," he demands.

Kier grimaces. "One shifted, far away. The other in his cabin."

It always used to make sense that they'd insist on hearing things from Kier. After all, he's the only one of us who can't lie. But now that I know he feels pain with every word, it makes my fangs ache to tear into them.

They're literally torturing him, and they don't even know it.

If they did, they'd probably make him speak more—sadistic assholes.

The commander nods at two of his subordinates. "Get him."

"And the other?"

"Leave it. He's too far gone to be of any use, anyway. Beast was basically feral when they last showed up."

It doesn't take long for Nos to be dragged out and thrown on the deck beside us.

The only good thing about these assholes? They treat Nos gentler than the rest of us. Not by much, but he's still a Seer, after all.

A few people still respect that.

"Is this all of the cargo?" Derrick demands, once again addressing Kier.

"Yes."

"And you've not tampered with it?"

"No."

It's not a lie. Nilsa may have tampered when she was investigating the hold, but Kier certainly hasn't.

"The Alchemist requires more. You're to make another run immediately."

"That's not in the agreement," I growl, eyes flashing.

There's a certain satisfaction in seeing the way the soldiers closest to me flinch back.

"Your bargain was servitude to me in exchange for your miserable lives."

The lilting voice makes every hair on my body stand on end.

She never leaves her palace.

But there she is.

Queen Catherine, the Eagle of Galmere, strides across the plank with a retinue of royal guards, each one dressed in the bright red uniform with the golden eagle wings stamped across their stiff collars.

I wish I could say that the woman herself was ugly. Every bit the hag on the outside that she was on the inside.

But no. She's no great beauty, but she's no troll either. If anything, she appears more average than she should. Average height, average figure. There is some slight appeal in the golden undertones of her skin and the sun-streaked blonde of her hair, but her features are bland, unremarkable.

If not for the shrewd, calculating look in her green eyes, you'd think her just another royal airhead .

It's that unassuming air that makes everyone underestimate her. It made us underestimate her.

"Servitude means doing as you're told," she continues, skirts swishing as she surveys the barrels in the middle of the deck with the same evaluating look she might give a cow at auction. "My Alchemist requires more ingredients. I have ordered you to fetch them for her."

"Yes, Your Majesty," I whisper, feeling the words rip from my lungs as the others echo them.

"Guards, transfer the cargo to my ship, then escort these men from the bay."

Her ants spring to action, carrying out her orders like the good little minions they are. Her soldiers stay in place, swords still levelled at us to protect the monarch as she leaves. Except, the Queen doesn't leave. She comes closer until she's within grabbing distance.

If the bargain didn't have a hold on me, I could reach out and snap her neck.

The perspicacity of her gaze cuts right through me. I just know something bad is coming. I feel it in my gut.

"I don't expect pirates to understand the urgency of this mission, so one of you will remain in Galmere to ensure the swift return of the rest."

No.

Her small smile as her eyes land on me confirms my fear. "The vampire will be perfectly safe in my Blood Pits. As we understand it, he is a prior champion."

"Take me," Kier interjects, pushing forward. "Me, in his place."

Swift as a striking cobra, a sword appears through his abdomen. The soldier behind him trembling in fear of retribution.

Val starts to turn.

"Freeze." The queen's voice is like a whip .

The bargain forces our cooperation. Every muscle in my body goes stiff as a board, and no amount of effort makes a difference. Sweat drips down Val's face as he struggles against the order. Even the Deadwood 's sails are stiff, unmoving in the breeze.

But we're stuck. Forced to watch as the soldier removes his sword from Kier with a sickening whoosh, flicking the fae's blood off the blade.

"I said the vampire." The Queen raises a single eyebrow. "Perhaps that wasn't quite clear." She turns to Derrick. "Take him and make sure he's sufficiently defanged. You'll be in charge of making sure he stays alive to be returned to them when they bring the next load of cargo."

I still can't move as the soldiers behind me wrestle my hands behind my back, then drag my frozen form from the Deadwood .

Shit.

This is going to hurt.

My breathing turns shallow as I fight back the panic. I've done this before. I can survive the Pits.

My greatest fear is who I'll be when I come out.

It took years for me to conquer the bloodlust last time. Only Kier's unrelenting patience got me through it. Now the stakes are higher.

Goddess, what would I do to Nilsa in that state?

My gut clenches.

She won't stand a chance against me if the bloodlust takes hold.

If she's even still alive.

Val will rush to try to save me, I'm not stupid. But if he thinks he's going to leave our mate undefended on Idos, I'll kill him myself. The captain takes care of his crew, but he damned well better take care of our mate first .

At the last second they turn me just enough for my gaze to catch Val's, then Kier's.

Find Nilsa, I scream at them in my mind. Find Nilsa and keep her the fuck away from me.