Page 95 of Tempest

Nothing in this world is ever easy. Such is the way of the Lyrian Sea.

The climb to the old song tower, and Ana, seemed a waste. There was no escape to be found, only disdain and accusation. Ana charged her with betraying Valerian, which Cat did not deny. But betraying the sea?

It seemed preposterous. The sea was no kingdom, no nation to swear allegiance to. No matter what the broken remnants of the pirate republic might say.

This war is not over.

That chilled her more than anything. To think Ana was so delusional as to believe the pirates could somehow recover from a killing blow—or that something else lay in wait, something Cat herself could not plan for or fathom. Her thoughts swirled, following her down like a storm cloud. By the time she reached the lower hills, her frustration threatened to boil over.

At least I warned her of Osprin, she thought. It was a small comfort to think Ana might pass the information along. It might even nudge a few more survivors to flee.

But not Valerian, Cat knew, anger flooding her again.

Her temper was not helped by the sight of Jasper Fell waiting at the bottom of the jungle path. He was red faced as his merchant captain’s coat, looking more like a burnished apple than a living man.

She came to a halt on a broken spit of rock, a long-weathered step split in two. From her vantage point, she could see most of Alvaris, the harbor shimmering blue between the rooftops.

Fell and his sailors fanned out beneath her, all shiny with sweat.

You have only made it a few yards up, Cat wanted to taunt them but decided not to make matters worse. Men responded so poorly when confronted with their flaws.

“You stay right where you are, she-devil!” Whisten barked, shaking a fist at her. His bracelet of prayer beads rattled.

Cat pointedly did not move. “Fear not, Mr. Whisten, I don’t intend to run off into the jungle.”

“Again,” Fell said, his voice acid.

“Gentlemen, what news have you gleaned from the commander of Alvaris?” Cat said brightly, a false smile splitting her face. She still gripped her stolen scarf, her blood spotting the patterned fabric.

“Don’t play coy, Cat,” Fell snarled up at her. He clambered over the next step and took her by the elbow, his hand warm through her sleeve. “We’ve wasted precious time looking for you, and now I’ve half a mind to shackle you to my wrist.”

Well surrounded, Cat had no choice but to let him lead her down to the others.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Captain?” she said, batting her eyes. “Half my worldly possessions are on your sorry excuse for a ship. You knew I was coming back.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Captain,” Whisten said, looking Cat over in disgust. His black eyes lingered on the hem of her dress. “That’s a heavy swing of her skirt. I venture she sewed a fortune into her clothes.”

Perceptive as the lieutenant was, Cat waved him off with a laugh, fluttering the folds of her dress for good measure. “Have you been looking at my skirts, Mr. Whisten?”

It was more than enough to quiet the disagreeable lieutenant for the rest of the walk back into the city, though Cat heard him grumbling along at the back of their line. She carried on with her head held high, curling her arm so that Captain Fell held her like an escort at a ball, and not a jailer.

“What exactly was your little jaunt into the jungle?” Fell muttered. Beneath their feet, the stone pathway turned to packed dirt cut with cart tracks.

Cat weighed her words carefully. “I met with a friend, looking for information. I was unsuccessful.”

“Is that the truth?” Fell’s steel eyes met her own, sharp as a blade.

In reply, Cat tipped her head and pulled her hair back to reveal the long cut on the side of her throat. It was no longer bleeding but obviously still fresh.

“I’d say so,” she answered, letting Fell’s eyes linger on the arc of her neck. “I’m lucky she did not slit my throat.”

The streets of Alvaris grew hotter as another hour tolled from another church. Cat raised a hand to shade her eyes against the glare and wished for a hat.

“She?” Fell prodded, leaning closer.

“No wonder the navy is having such a difficult time finding the pirates. You have no idea who to ask, or who to listen to,” Cat scoffed, exasperated. “Women know things too. More than most men, I would wager.”

A smile that could only be described as “shit-eating” split Fell’s face. He laughed openly, and Cat fought the urge to swat him off her arm.