Page 52 of Ruthless Scoundrel
Unless…
When I fired that concentrated beam of my magic, it threw me off the raft from the strength of it. If I could channel it right, maybe I could hover? Or fly?
Hells, what am I thinking?
Jasper’s hand squeezes down on the back of my neck. “You are relentless, aren’t you?”
“I’ve never seen anything like this before. I’m just intrigued,” I say, trying to assuage his suspicion.
He gives an incredulous grunt.
The White Sail is a two-story wooden construct that looks like all the rest of the buildings in this place. It’s all so utilitarian. It’ll be hard finding my way with everything looking the same—especially in the dark—but I’ve counted my steps and our turns. I know I can do it. Iwilldo it.
Tonight, I escape.
Chapter fifteen
Jasper
Reina isdefinitelyscheming. I saw the way she eyed the black smoke, a telltale sign of some kind of smith. She paid special attention to every turn we made, and I’m fairly certain by the clenching of her jaw that she was counting steps.
No matter. There will be no escape for her.
I hold open the door and lead her inside the White Sail. The tavern is illuminated by cloudy afternoon light streaming in from open windows. There are no glass panes, and so all the sounds from outside come in with the breeze.
It’s the middle of the day, so the tavern is sparsely populated and the captain is easy to spot by the massive hat hanging off her chair. She has chin-length brown hair streaked with silver, the top half of which is pulled back to a short ponytail to keep it out of her angular face. She has a sharp nose and a severe frown on her pink lips. There’s a tankard of something foamy beside her, and she scans a pile of ledgers with a pinched brow.She scribbles some detail on a sheaf of parchment, then flips the page.
“Captain Alejandra?” I ask, approaching her.
“No,” the woman says with sharp authority.
Perhaps the hat isn’t hers…
Despite her demeanor, I need to find the captain, and she looks important enough to know where Alejandra might be. The woman doesn’t look up, or say anything further, so I clear my throat. “Do you know where I might—”
“No, I’m busy,” she cuts me off again, waving me away with the back of her hand without looking up from her papers. “Come back later.”
I glance at Reina. She gives me a wrinkled-nose sneer that says, “What, you think your prisoner is going to help?”
Wonderful. Nothing to do but wait, then.
I lead Reina to the bar since the next item on the agenda requires someone willing to talk to me.
The bar is a simple construction, not even painted, but lacquered so that the humid air doesn’t warp it. I steer Reina down onto a stool and stand behind her, resting my hands on her shoulders to keep her from bolting out the door.
The barman, a tanned fellow with a clean shave and cropped black hair, approaches us. “What’ll it be?” he asks in Wolish.
“We need a room for however many nights the Sea Snake is anchored,” I say in Fynish, letting the princess in on the conversation since I know how much it irks her to be left out.
“They’re leavin’ first thing in the morning. A room’ll be two silver, but if you want a meal, it’ll be three.”
I reach into one of my many pockets and find the stolen treasure I’m looking for. The glint of gold and rubies makes Reina gasp as I hold out her tiara from the wedding night at the palace. She glares up at me but knows better than to say anything about it.
“We were shipwrecked, and all I was able to hold onto were the things this little wretch pilfered on her journeys—she’s my bounty, you see. I’m taking her back to Illya for punishment. What can this get us?” I ask, handing it over to the barman.
The man looks the tiara over with a shrewd eye. “Real gold and gems. Where’d you pick this up, little thief?”
“From your pig-sister’s dowry,” Reina snaps at him, and I nearly lose my composure in a fit of laughter.
