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“Take it up top, lads,” I say.
I wait a few beats until the hatch slams closed behind them.
Vordan has risen, standing on one leg—the one that didn’t break during his fall at the inn—and turned to face me already.He jerks his head toward the cell on the opposite side of the brig from him and Riden, the one filled with plush cushions. “I’d have preferred that one, but I take it that one is yours.” He smiles at his own cleverness. “What is it like having to be locked up on your own ship?” he continues. “I can’t imagine it—”
I cut him off with a deep, low note. Vordan holds a knife in his hand. He glances at it in fear before thrusting it down into his own leg, the one that isn’t broken. He screams before changing the sound into an angry grunt. It’s a rather pathetic attempt at maintaining his composure.
I halt the song, and Vordan comes out of the hallucination. He looks down at his leg, sees that it is whole, that his hand holds no knife, and fixes me with a filthy stare. His breathing has quickened. Even though his mind now knows he’s not injured, it takes time to recover from the echo of pain.
“This is a dream come true for you,” I say. “Looks like you’ll get to experience the full brunt of my abilities after all.”
His face pales, and the satisfaction I get from it is a soothing balm to my senses.
“Now, then,” I say, “I want to know all of the spies you have in my father’s fleet. I want their names and which vessels they sail on.”
“I don’t—”
Another note flows out of my mouth. A puddle of water appears at Vordan’s feet, and I make him stick his face right into the water and hold it there for half a minute. I let him pull his head up for a few seconds to breathe and then stick him under the imaginary puddle for a full minute. Though his mind isfully alert as to what’s happening, I have taken his control over his own limbs. They obey me now.
When he comes up for air this time, I release him from the song.
He flops over onto his back, feeling the dry ground. No water. He hasn’t the strength to stand as he sucks down as much air as his lungs will allow and coughs it back out.
I dare a glance in Riden’s direction. He is watching everything, his face carefully blank. I’m not about to go back on our bargain to sense what he’s feeling, though I’d desperately like to.
“I could, of course, force you to be truthful with me,” I say, returning my attention to Vordan, “but I want nothing more than for you to suffer before you die. So by all means, Vordan, continue refusing me the information I want.”
Once he’s breathing a bit more easily, he stands, hopping pitifully as he finds a balance with the broken leg.
“On theDeadman’s Blade, you’ll find a pirate going by the name of Honsero. He’s my man. Klain sails with theBlack Rage.” He pauses to catch his breath before listing several more ships and pirates, and even giving me the names of some who are stationed within my father’s keep.
When he finishes talking, I utter a higher note, something piercing and throttling. I ask him if he’s spoken the truth and if he’s omitted any names. While under my influence, he confirms his earlier testimony.
My power slips away the more I sing. It feels similar to the way hunger creeps up on a person between meals, leaving them small and empty. It’s infuriating how fleeting my abilities are.
When he returns once more to his senses, Vordan says, “You killed every man I had at the inn with me. For all I know, you killed the little boy who gave you up, too.”
I didn’t. I don’t slaughter children. Especially when they have no fault save choosing the wrong man to accept food from. But I remain silent. Let Vordan think I’m so cruel.
“And now you know about all of the rest. You’ve taken everything. When you and I could have been so great together.”
“No, Vordan. I could have made you great. You are not the sort of man who could ever achieve greatness on his own. You are ordinary, and you’ve accomplished nothing.”
He laughs, a quiet sound meant for himself as he rakes his fingers through his hair.
“You’re right,” he says at last. “I have only one card left to play, Alosa. A bit of information to exchange for my life.”
“There is nothing you know that I want.”
“Not even if it’s a secret your father keeps from you?”
I keep my face still, refusing to react to anything he says. He has nothing left but lies now.
“I overheard many conversations between you and Riden back on theNight Farer,” he continues, smirking in Riden’s direction. “Do you remember the talk the two of you had about secrets? You were trying so desperately to learn where Jeskor had hidden the map, preying on Riden for any information he might have. You even told him some lie about hidden floorboards in your father’s rooms where he keeps secret information. As if by telling him something of your father, he might tell you something of his.”
Vordan smiles at the memory, and I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed him sneaking about more.
“But you and I both know,” Vordan says, “that your father has a secret study in his keep.”
