Page 104 of King of Storms and Feathers

I had found my escape route. My heart rate slowed, but I couldn’t relax just yet. I wondered how much time I had before someone came looking for Sindar. Or came down here for any thousands of other reasons. I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Only minutes later, boots thudded down the stairs outside the hold. I drew my blade and hid behind the door, ready to strike, the battle chant racing through my mind again.

Mydor blood will never fail.

A latch clicked, then the door swung toward me. I shoved it as hard as I could, but it met with heavy resistance as a man cursed and kicked it open. I stumbled backward, my head cracking against the wall. When I opened my eyes, three human sailors stood in front of me. The one brandishing a long sword reached out to slam the door shut with a grunt.

The tallest one with narrowed mean eyes and a curling mustache whistled long and low. “By the gold, what have we here?”

I slowed my breathing and forced my arms to hang loose. Let them think me harmless. Let the assholes try to touch me.

“A very dirty, very fetching little bird, by the looks of it,” said the second, his violent, black eyes clashing with his handsome face. “One we can mess up some more, me thinks.”

The third, short and round, flicked his thumb toward my knife. “She’s got a sharp beak this one. Want to bite us with that tiny thing, sweetheart?”

“I think if anyone’s gonna do any biting,” said mustache man, a bulge growing at the front of his tight leathers. “It’ll be us taking pieces out of you.” He took a step closer. “What’s your name, green eyes?”

“Pain,” I said, and attacked.

Moving fast, I slashed mustache’s thigh, head-butted the short one, and kicked the handsome one in the balls. I lunged forward again, but unfortunately, they’d recovered from their surprise.

“You bitch,” mustache yelped as handsome kicked my feet out from under me.

The moment I hit the ground, ignoring waves of blinding pain, I tried to sit up, but handsome’s sword pinched the flesh under my chin, holding me in place. “We’re gonna take our time ruining you, nasty little firebrand.”

Snarling, I thrashed as the rotund one hooked his arm around me from behind and raised me off the floor, giving the handsome one access to my knives. As he removed them, my cap fell off. Mustache swooped and picked it up, then wiped it across his bleeding thigh.

“No sense in wasting energy fighting us, sweetheart. You fucked up. And now you’re gonna pay the price.” Oblivious to the pain of his knife wound, mustache laughed and grabbed me by the throat.

“Fuck, Darius, wait,” said the beefy bald one. “Look at her hair.”

While their wide eyes bounced between me and each other, I tried to drag my mind from my growing terror and focus on staying alive.

“Well, well, well.” Handsome shoved his blade against my neck. “The gold has certainly blessed us this evening.” He lifted me to my feet by the crook of my arm. “I have no idea how you got in here, Mydorian, but the captain would love to meet you, that’s for sure. Am I right, lads?”

He called me a Mydorian. Were they aware the city was in ruins? Or like Ari, did they believe it still stood in the Sunken Forest, hidden by gold reaver magic?

As they dragged me out of the hold, I hoped the captain would at least give me some answers before he killed me.

Chapter 27

Leaf

As it turned out, Captain Loligos wasn’t in the mood to answer questions, which was a shame. He likely knew more about where I came from than I did.

I stumbled into his tidy, polished-mahogany cabin with my hands tied in front of me, and he looked up from his whiskey tumbler and smiled, his gold teeth flashing in the candlelight.

Yellow eyes trailed over Mustache, stopping at the blood seeping from his thigh. “Darius,” the captain growled. “Get that seen to before you ruin my favorite alnarah rug.”

Mustache nodded and left without a word.

On first glance, Captain Loligos looked human, but his unusual U-shaped pupils indicated he was fae. He wore a sea-green velvet jacket buttoned halfway up his brawny chest, revealing a billowy purple shirt underneath. Around his tanned throat, a necklace of polished crab shells and sharks’ teeth gleamed. Ink-black hair curled past his broad shoulders, framing a handsome, rugged face, with a sly rather than kind set to his features.

“Well, what have we here, lads?” he asked as he leaned back in his chair and lit a cigar. “This one’s an improvement on our usual quality of stowaways. Any idea how she got aboard?”

“Orion,” said Shorty. “Rolled her up in a blanket, said it was a rug bound for the Fire King.”

“Is that right?” The captain’s strange yellow eyes raked my body. “You were in the hold?”

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