Page 107 of Ship of Smoke and Steel

Small chance of that.

ZARUN: I certainly won’t face her.

SHIARA: Nor I.

KARAKOA: I admit I am … reluctant. Perhaps we should reconsider—

BUTCHER: To the Rot with that. I’ll rotting fight her, if you’re all such frozen cowards.

ZARUN: You’re certain? We all know she’s quite powerful.

BUTCHER: Don’t make me laugh, you miserable prick. I’ll kill her with one hand jammed up my arse, and have enough left for you, too, if you want some.

SHIARA: Karakoa, we need to speak. In private.

More whispers, and the sound of people moving about. Jack beckons me away from the grate, and we hunch down once more and retrace our steps.

“So because Zarun won’t agree to execute me,” I say, “I get to fight the Butcher in the Ring?”

“Quick on the uptake, our fearless leader,” Jack says. “That’s the gist.”

“He knew this was going to happen?” I shake my head. “Of course he did. He was practically baiting her.”

“Zarun and the Butcher have been at daggers drawn since I came aboard,” Jack says. “Only the pressure of the other two keeps them from open war. Which is, of course, the point of having rules. If the officers could fight each other we’d soon all be crab food.”

I remember Zarun’s smile, the day he’d taken me to look for dresses and we’d run into the Butcher.

“You wanted to know why I’m helping you? It’s because she hates you. You made her look weak and foolish when you came aboard, and every inch you rise is a twist of the knife in her back. She never could get over a grudge.”

“So you’re helping me out of spite?”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t hold grudges. Hate makes people stupid. If this keeps up, sooner or later she’ll make a mistake. And then…”

“He set her up,” I say quietly. “He saw this coming, and now…”

He’s using me, a knife he can afford to lose. If I kill the Butcher, all the better for him. If I die, then he hasn’t lost much.

Rot.

“He didn’t send you into the Captain’s tower,” Jack says, sounding a little offended. “If he hadn’t argued on your behalf, you’d face simple execution, with no chance to fight your way out.”

“I’m sure another occasion would have presented itself.” If I hadn’t given him the opportunity, he would have created one. “Is the Butcher as tough as she looks?”

“Tougher, if anything,” Jack says, with obscene cheeriness.

“What are her Wells?”

“She has a touch of Rhema, for certain.” Jack shrugs. “Scuttlebutt says she has Melos as well, but no one’s seen her use it.”

We reach the hole in the wall, leading back into the cellblock. Jack steps aside to let me go first, and I pause.

“This is where you would kill me, if you were so inclined,” Jack says. “The guards are at the other end of the corridor. You might make it.”

“I swore I’d go back, didn’t I?”

“You did. But does that mean anything to you?” She cocks her head.

I climb through the hole, stretching once I reach the wider corridor.