Page 178 of Tempest

It was over.

She was rid of him.

Her lips parted, drawing her first breath as a widow. It tasted like iron and salt.

Like freedom.

Her body shook, cold washing over her limbs as if she had been dunked in icy water, a rush of emotions crashing over her. So many eyes looked on, and Cat was keenly aware of them all. But one above the rest. Not the pirate crew or even Valerian Kane, but Lieutenant Fell.

Tentatively, she raised her gaze to find the officer locked on her, straining against three pirate captors holding him back, his face bone white and unreadable. She could only fathom what she looked like from his position, a murderess with her husband’s blood all over her face.

The rest of the ship watched, cowed into silence by the shocking display. But they felt like an audience in a theater, distant and uninvolved, with Cat standing center stage.

“Lieutenant,” she heard herself murmur, trying to weigh his reaction.

He is a loyal son of the Meridian, a dutiful officer. Her stomach twisted, whatever joy she felt at Ryman’s death fading away. And I have committed the gravest of crimes right in front of him.

Her voice weakened, so soft she could barely hear it herself.

“Jasper.”

A vein pulsed in his neck, his only movement.

Boots thunked on the timber and Cat swallowed, feeling Valerian at her side. The usual warmth fell over her, thrown from his body. He surveyed the corpse with a shrewd twist of his lips, as if Lord Rose were only a gutted fish left for the carrion birds. The crew kept silent, waiting for their captain’s command.

So did Cat, bracing for a worse fate than life back on Rosby.

What have I done? she thought, the consequences of her rage catching up to her with bitter speed. Valerian had shown her mercy, and she returned the favor by shooting a man on his deck. A valuable man. Will it be the brig for me? A brothel? A chain around my ankles and waves over my head?

Her heart thudded and she waited for Captain Kane’s judgement.

But Fell spoke first, shattering the silence.

“I go ashore,” he snapped, his voice the severe, unyielding command of a naval officer. With a twist, he shrugged off the pirates holding his shoulders.

They made to pin him back, but the captain waved them off, an amused look on his face. “You have a ransom to earn, Lieutenant. You’re not going anywhere.”

His chains rattled and Fell took shuffling steps, until he drew up level with Cat.

“I go ashore, and I swear the Venerable wrecked in a storm,” he spat. “Or you ransom me to the navy, and I tell them exactly what I saw here today.”

Realization swooped through Cat, and she thought her heart might burst from her chest. Instead, her grip tightened, using the gun to anchor her trembling arm. Even unloaded, it felt like a shield. Though she would have felt far better with another bullet in the barrel.

“What did you see here, Lieutenant?” she breathed, hardly daring to hope.

Fell did not break, holding Valerian’s gaze so intently Cat could almost see sparks burning between them.

“You tell me, Captain Kane. Did I see Ryman Rose go down with the Venerable, swallowed by just another storm in the Lyrian Sea?” It was an odd thing, to see a chained man smile. And smile Fell did, grinning despite his circumstances. “Or did I see his lady wife shoot him on the deck of a pirate ship. With the captain’s gun?”

If looks could kill, both Fell and Valerian would have dropped dead. Instead, Cat watched some cosmic scales balance between the two men, an invisible battle of wills playing out before her eyes. Her breath hitched, and she wondered which man might win—and where that would leave her.

“Kill them all and be done with it,” someone shouted amongst the crew. “This prize has been cursed from the start.”

When a few voices called out in agreement, Ana hissed them all to silence, her face going pale. It was not difficult to guess why. Cat remembered what Valerian said in the Drowning Drink—pirate crews voted for their captains. If they lost confidence in Valerian’s leadership, or enough disagreed with his plan of action, they could remove him from command.

Cat scanned the crowded deck, her fate jumping from Valerian’s hands to the hands of his lethal crew. For the first time since the sea battle, she forced herself to really look at them, to glimpse beyond their scars and weaponry. They were still killers and monsters. Desperate men and women, but men and women still.

Perhaps this place makes monsters of us all, she thought again, the smell of Ryman’s blood impossible to ignore.