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Benedict gestured to the spread of fine foods before us and gave me a small, licentious grin. “We shall survive.”
“Treason,” Fisher stated, throwing the word on the table like a gauntlet. “You are asking us to commit treason with you.”
Ellas tilted her head to one side. “Treason is a harsh word.”
“A noose is harsh end,” Fisher parried. “But that’s what lies on the other side of your scheme.”
Ellas’s expression darkened. She took a long drink ofwine—ahunter taking aim. “Where you see nooses and treason, I see opportunity. We will have the glory of taking down Lirr, and a proper reward for our efforts.”
“We shall be heroes,” Benedict put in. He did not look at me, but I knew he spoke to me all the same. “We will have done the Winter Sea a great service, and I, for one, would not turn down a laurel crown.”
The image struck at me, hard andvisceral—theapplause, the medals, the respect and admiration. Bringing down Lirr remained my best chance to redeem myself. But to do it like this?
Furthermore, Slader’s part in this did not sit right with me. He had been a cunning man, but duping the queen seemed a stretch beyond him.
Benedict picked up a loaf of bread and sat back in his chair with all the insouciance of a farmhand at a tavern. He scraped butter onto a knife and slathered it on in smooth, deft movements.
The Other tugged, and bloody red magic glistened around him. I slipped a hand into my pocket, letting my fingers linger just beside the coin, and pushed farther into that other world.
I did not go far, just enough to overlay the scene. Sure enough, Ben’s scarlet magic hazed the entire table. It kept the dragonflies in a frenzy. It trickled around Fisher’s nose and eyes, seeking, prying, and testing my captain’s pliancy. Fisher was holding up well, evidenced by the way Ben’s magic passed around her instead of through her, but this was a fragment of his power.
I cursed myself. I ought to have warned her Benedict was a Magni.
No scarlet magic lingered on Ellas. That was a surprise, but little comfort. Benedict only had two motives for anything: whim and personal gain. Just because he was not controlling her now did not mean he had not or would not. Nor did it mean he had not compelled Slader into a deadly alliance.
Naturally, Ellas would know Benedict was aMagni—hehad been trained at the academy, as Ihad—butI doubted she knew how powerful he was. Our uncle had ensured our amplifications remained a closely guarded family secret, and even as schoolboys we had known to hide the limits of our power.
I leaned forward, catching my brother’s gaze while the Other still hazed around us. “Ben, stop magicking my captain, please.”
Fisher looked over sharply. In the Other, Benedict’s power still dusted across her skin like ash-laden smoke.
“Benedict is a Magni,” I clarified, still holding my brother’s gaze. He looked back at me, inscrutable as a clouded night sky. “But he knows better than to use his power in polite company.”
Resentment flared in Benedict’s eyes. “Oh? What should I say of your power, dear brother?”
“Come now, enough,” Ellas chided lightly. She looked between Fisher and I and fingered her cup of wine. “We are all allies here. You are a mercenary, Captain Fisher, and I know Slader would not have kept you on if you did not share his proclivities. Take my offer, and we’ll all traverse the Stormwall, safe and sound.”
In the Other, I saw Benedict’s power retreat from Fisher. In the physical world, he lifted a piece of bloodied beef to his lips, holding my gaze as he did so. Eyes impassive, he began to chew with slow, measured movements.
“If we do not?” I asked Ellas, eyeing my brother. Despite his displeasure he had obeyed too easily. He had another, more valuable card up his sleeve. I grasped the coin and the Other fully faded.
Ellas noted Benedict’s and my continued exchange. “These seas are rough, and no one truly expects all three of our vessels to return.”
Color rose in Fisher’s cheeks. “Threats will not help your cause.”
“They are not threats.” Ben surveyed her across the table, folding his hands in hislap—asatisfied fox in a bloodied henhouse. “They are facts. Even if you miraculously find your way home without our aid, there is the matter of James Demery. When he never returns to Usti, who do you think Queen Inara will blame?”
Fisher could not hide her shock this time, and neither could I.
Ellas sat back in her chair and nodded for Ben to go on.
I felt his magic flare again, not overly compelling, but dredging up emotions like long-forgottendreams—dread,urgency, fear, submission. I steeled myself, but I saw Fisher’s expression flicker under the weight of it.
“Ben,” I rebuked.
He ignored me.
“Lirr is not the only pirate who will meet justice north of the Stormwall,” my twin said, leaning forward. His hungry declarations about spilling the blood of pirates, when we had met before Hesten, rang through my head. “If you fight my good captain and I? James Demery’s death will be laid on you, whether or not you live to see the south again. Forget Queen Edith’snoose—youshall face the Usti queen’s wrath, and be responsible for a diplomatic incident that could upend the balance of the world.”
