Page 30 of The Song of the Void

“I’m all muscle.”

Well, I knew that. Especially with my arm around his back to support him, it was easy to feel he was made of solid muscle all around. “And you say I’m full of myself.”

Finally, we made it to that drab line of darkened houses. Eerie silence fell over us like a blanket, punctuated only by the occasional jolt of a distant gunshot, and the deep rumble of thunder amongst the halo of black clouds above us. The air crackled with the energy before a storm.

“So? What were you really doing with that guy?” Reiven asked. “Something Ash and I need to know about?”

Another gunshot split the air, far closer than any of the others. As in, right behind us, close.

A strangled moan escaped Reiven’s lips, and he weighed even more, enough that I couldn’t keep him standing anymore. I knelt beside him as he sank to the damp, sandy earth. Worry ground into my stomach.

“Reiven,” I whispered. My gaze fell on the crimson soaking an uneven splotch on his thigh. It spread with all the agonizing slowness of a bucket of oil dumped into the ocean.

What the⁠—

“God, it’s good to see him on his knees again. Watching him scrub the deck was already satisfying, but this is on a whole other level.” Gatelo blew away the thin line of smoke that trailed from the mouth of his pistol, an easy grin splitting his face as he approached us.

Every nerve in my body buzzed to life.

“Get up!” I hissed, but Reiven probably didn’t have enough strength in his body anymore. Though the drugs would wear off soon, a gunshot to the leg didn’t help his situation. Since he was useless and undoubtedly in a lot of pain, I swiped his cutlass as I leaped to my feet and pointed it squarely at Gatelo. He responded with the barrel of his gun in my face.

“What in the Mourner Hell do you think you’re doing?” I growled.

“Doing you a favor, Blue,” Gatelo said, as if Reiven calling me by some stupid nickname gave him the right to do the same. “You remember how I was late the day we set sail from the port? Well, I was late because I ran into an old friend of yours, and he made a deal with me. Did you know he’s ferrying two Druinns to find the same artifact as you three?”

Old friend?

My mind raced. Someone who was bringing two Druinns to Ghrysim Isle…Calinia said that she and Shaddan had hired a pirate and his crew to guide them there. One pirate in particular sprang to my mind, but I tried to push that thought away. It couldn’t be him.

Please. Please don’t let it be him.

The Spirits must have mocked me from whatever lofty void they existed in.

Vaetrik Tynedall, the man who tricked me into captivity six years ago, stepped out of the shadows of a nearby house. A cruel, calm smile played at his lips as he pulled away a smoking cigar.

“I always knew you’d make it back to me, pet.”

His presence alone reminded me I was nothing. After all, what was a silly Siren girl who actually believed she could trust a man she had only just met? The girl who became so enamored that she let him kiss her, followed him aboard his ship where he laughed and locked her away to rot in darkness until he sold her to the highest bidder?

Nothing.

Around ten of Vaetrik’s pirate crew had been hiding in a nearby abandoned house, and they got to work dragging us inside and tying Reiven and me to rotting wooden chairs with ropes that bit into my wrists. Some of them carried torches that cast flickering light across the grimy living space we found ourselves in, empty save for some dust-coated furniture and rat filth all over the floor.

Light glimmered in a pair of golden eyes as Shaddan turned away from the door at the rear of the house. He wore the same armor, but now the leather holster strapped across his back actually contained a weapon, a silver spear that looked almost as long as I was tall.

“Caught a pretty fish in your net I see, Captain.” Gone was his air of amicable nobility—his own mask that he wore for Humans the night of the banquet, I thought.

“Aye.” Vaetrik stroked his cropped, sandy beard. He didn’t have that, or his finely crafted saber and pistols, or his long, elaborate coat, when I first met him. No, he had just been a scrawny, sunburned young sailor, fishing alone in his rowboat. His smile had completely dazzled me, fool that I was. And now, thanks to all the gold he got as payment for me, he had secured his position within the Eventide Brigade, bought his own ship and crew...I supposed that was why he cleaned up his image so much, tried to act like he was better than the common pirates.

Gatelo had ripped Reiven’s cutlass out of my hands after I lost my will to fight upon seeing exactly who had come for me, and he flourished it about in front of my companion. “Not so tough now, are you?” He pointed it at Reiven’s neck. “So, when do we kill him?”

Reiven’s face was set behind a veil of indifference. He didn’t bother to acknowledge Gatelo’s taunt, but in the shadowy depths of his eyes, calculations were taking place.

“I’ve had enough of your chatter. Get out of here,” Vaetrik said coolly, turning his attention to me. He cupped my cheek with his rough hand, covered in small scars from many a sword fight. “Did you miss me, pet? When that crotchety hag Ipheri refused to sell you back to me and banned me from her establishment, I almost thought I’d never see you again. We couldn’t have that, now could we?”

My body quaked.

“Hey!” Gatelo interrupted, turning Reiven’s cutlass towards Vaetrik. “I’m not leaving without the chest of gold you promised me.”