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“I want her to be the one to supervise me.”
“What?”
“You said I was on probation and I would be supervised for a time. I want it to be her.”
I have never heard Kearan talk so clearly. His words are usually accompanied by the slur that comes with constant drunkenness.
“Did you hear the part where I said she’s my assassin? Don’t mess with her. She’ll kill you before you have time to blink.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem. She can make sure I don’t step out of line.”
Not twenty minutes ago, I assured Niridia that Kearan was more interested in his drink than in the girls. It appears I spoke too soon.
But to be honest, I’m dying to see how this turns out.
“Sorinda!” I shout.
She doesn’t move her stance, but I see her eyes shift toward me.
“Come down here.” I wave her over.
Like a cat, she slinks out of the shadows. Rather than taking the companionway, she leaps over the railing and lands without making a sound.
She is, as Kearan described, a dark beauty. Long black hair. Thin with elegantly pointed features. Though she’s constantly trying to hide, when she comes into the light, there are few who stand out more. Niridia is an obvious beauty with features that almost look painted. Sorinda is like something forged out of nature. One of the beauties that only comes out at night.
She doesn’t answer once she reaches us. She simply waits for me to speak.
Kearan stares at her openly. Sorinda pretends not to notice.
“This is Kearan. He’s joined our crew. Going to be our new navigator. Right now he’s on probation. Will you keep an eye on him for me?”
“I always have an eye on everyone.”
I smile. “I know, but this one is officially your responsibility.”
She sizes up Kearan. Her expression never changes much. It’s always impossible to tell what she’s feeling. But now her lips curve downward slightly. Kearan may be large and ugly, but there’s no denying he’s good at what he does—so long as he is properly motivated to do it.
“Very well,” she says at last.
“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have one more prisoner to see.”
Though Draxen’s ship is bigger than mine, I’ve opted for more rooms up top rather than larger captain’s quarters for myself. Since I actually care about my crew, I’ve had a room fashioned for treating injuries.
This is the one I start for.
On my way, I spot Enwen at the port side railing, surveying the crew. He’s less of a concern to me than Kearan. I’ll have someone keep an eye on him, but that can be sorted out later.
Mandsy leans over the cushioned table in the room, where Riden lies on his back, asleep. His breeches have been sheared at the thighs to allow easy access to the pistol wounds. The room smells of ointments and blood.
“How is he?” I ask.
“Things are looking really good, Captain. The ball has already been removed from his thigh. The shot at his calf went clean through. I bandaged him up as best I could, including the lighter cuts and stabs on his arms.”
Something inside me relaxes, and breathing comes more easily. “Good. Has he been conscious at all?”
“Yes. He woke up once and looked at me funny.”
“Did he say anything?”
