“I wouldn’t count me out quite yet.”
“I have to say I am so glad you came to talk to me. Especially since we’ve been looking for you.”
“Looking for me? Why?” Darius asked warily.
“According to witnesses, your ship was the first one to leave after the king died. Which also happens to be when the princess disappeared.” Ghost showed nothing in his expression.
Darius’s blood chilled anyhow. He eyed the dangerous broker and debated what to say. Stuck to the truth, for the moment. “I guess you already know then that the princess stowed away on my ship.”
“I predicted she might have, and now you’ve confirmed it. I assume you’re here to trade her for the bounty.” The Ghost held a hint of triumph in his tone.
Time to bust it. “Yeah, about the princess…” he drawled. “Before you get excited, while I did have the princess, I don’t anymore. She died.”
“Died how?” Ghost asked, his expression not betraying whether or not he believed the claim.
“Drowned. For a girl raised by the sea, she sure wasn’t savvy about it. She jumped and started swimming for shore as we were nearing the Isle of Teeth. She never made it.”
“You saw her dead body?”
“Not exactly. More like suddenly she was swimming along, and then next thing I know she’s going under and she doesn’t come back. Drowned or eaten would be my guess.”
The Ghost leaned back in his tub again and steepled his fingers over his chest. “Fascinating. But let me ask you, if she died as you say, then why didn’t you post about it and claim the bounty for her death?”
“I’m telling you.”
“After brokering a new deal.”
“Nothing wrong with getting better terms. I’m sure you’ll get something for your troubles when you let your clients know what happened to the princess.”
“You’re right about that. They’ll be very interested in finding out I’ve located her.” The broker smirked, and a bad feeling twisted Darius’s gut.
So much for his plan. His stupid, stupid plan. He should have skipped the island because the Ghost wasn’t buying his story at all. “The princess drowned.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Has the princess turned up alive?” Darius asked carefully.
“She has, unless she’s somehow managed to die in the half-hour since you left her. Guess we’ll know any moment now.” Ghost glanced over the parapet toward the docks. And his ship.
Like fuck.
“Call off your goons!” Darius growled, rising to his feet.
“Indignation is ill becoming after the lies you just fed me,” hissed Ghost, rising from the water, his body a sinuous long torso with no actual legs but a serpentine tail.
“I’m offended you think I’d lie,” Darius said, lying even harder.
The broker slithered over the edge of the tub, and it took effort for Darius to keep his itching fingers from the hilt of his sword. “What makes you think she is still on board?” He shifted slightly to his left, keeping the Ghost with his scaly gray body in sight.
“One of your crew was buying women’s clothing, and yet none of the sizes match anyone on board. But they were close to that of a certain princess.”
They should have waited to go shopping. “What does your client want with her?”
“Doesn’t really matter, now does it? The price is right. And while the reward for your capture isn’t as plump, I think it’s time I collected on it.”
The snake-like broker lunged for Darius, but Darius was already moving. His fingertips barely brushed the short parapet as he launched himself in the air, arms and legs pedaling to give him distance. He hit the building across the way and slid down, landing atop a fabric canopy that slowed his descent even as it bowed and dumped him on the ground.
The moment his feet his pavement, he ran, bellowing, “Tanzie!”
No need to say anything else. He saw her head jerk up. Her gaze sought his out. She arched a brow, the kind that said, What did you do now?
He lifted a shoulder of innocence.
She shook her head.
As he ran past, she joined him. There was a yell behind them and the tromp of boots.
“How bad is it?” she snapped.
“Ghost knows she’s on board.”
“Shit!”
Tanzie picked up her pace, and Darius matched it, weaving through the marketplace, keeping an eye on the converging guards, probably owned by the broker. They shoved their way through the denser crowd as they neared the dock. Just before the last line of buildings, four guards stepped into their way, pointing spears.
Darius drew his dagger while Tanzie showed off with curved scimitars. They drove into the guards, narrowly missing sharps points, the edge of their own blades managing to slice. In moments they were past the guards, but the alarm was sounding. He could hear more yelling and stamping of feet. Of course, his ship was at the far end of the dock. Even worse, he could see soldiers on the deck, facing off with Jorah.
His first mate shook his head, thick arms crossed over his chest.
“They’re going to make him mad,” Tanzie huffed by his side.
“Then that’s their problem. We need to get out of here.” He pumped his legs, slashing as someone darted out from a warehouse—to stab at him. He parried and swung in return, took off a wrist, and left the screaming man behind as he neared his ship.
More guards darted out, and he slashed at them even as he heard Jorah bellow. Then there was a splash, followed by more splashes.
The screams rose in tenor, and an alarm wailed only a second before seawater sloshed over the deck. It had the effect of sending the guards confronting him fleeing. As for Darius, he ignored the tentacle slithering along the deck and jumped over the second one that shot out. Paid no mind to the sharp cry as someone was dragged past into the bay.
Live by the sea, sometimes get eaten by the sea.
He grabbed hold of the ladder and held it steady as Tanzie clambered the rungs first, bellowing orders. Only once she crested did he follow. The engines below decks hummed, but he could still hear yelling, and thunder suddenly cracked overhead.
He glanced as clouds rapidly boiled in. Damned tropical storms. Tawa was known for them but usually they had a little warning. His feet hit the deck just as Jorah bellowed again from the rear of the ship—and his cabin.
“Fuck!” The princess. He jogged toward it and was in time to see Jorah staggering under the weight of two people dressed in shimmer cloaks, the kind that helped camouflage in daylight.
The ship had guests. It also began to rock, as the ocean was agitated by wind and whatever swam in the bay, swiping at anybody in reach.
He arrived in time to kick the torch from the hand of one man but didn’t duck the fist of the other. His head snapped. Letting out a yell of his own, Darius barreled into one soldier until his back hit the rail. He pushed him, hands around his neck, only to choke as the other one tried to strangle him from behind.
The pressure eased suddenly as a tentacle grabbed the soldier at his back and dragged him overboard, screaming. It distracted his companion enough that Darius managed to flip him off the deck. By the time he turned, Jorah was finishing his toss of another soldier into the churning bay.