Fully aware of the spies in his ranks, Kor bided his time, sniffing them out and slowly winning them over, making promises better than the ones Jemsin made. Now, two years later, his crew was fully his own—a fact Jemsin knew, and one that made him nervous.
But other than outright killing Kor, there was nothing Jemsin could do. Kor hadn’t done anything to provoke such an action. Not yet, anyway.
It was only a matter of time, though. Because the more power Kor tasted, the more he wanted. One day, Kor would break free of Jemsin. Eris knew this. So did Jemsin. But before Kor made his final move, he wanted one more thing. Something Jemsin would never give him.
Kor wanted Eris.
As she lay in her borrowed bunk, Eris listened to the wind howl and the hull of the Sea Mistress groan. The single lantern in this cabin swayed, casting light back and forth across the dark room as she studied the slender throwing knife in her hands.
She’d been gripping it in her fist when she stepped across.
It was different from the other knives the commandant kept sheathed in her belt. The blade was thinner and more delicate. The hilt was more ornate.
As Eris ran her fingers over it, she thought of the commandant alone in her room—her trap dismantled, her criminal gone.
Strangely, it brought Eris no pleasure this time.
The sudden sound of heavy boots clomping down the stairs made Eris go still. She’d barely sat up when the cabin door swung open, and the glow of her lantern illuminated the young man standing there.
He had a square face and deep-set eyes. Long dark hair was pulled back from his shoulders and the pale cotton shirt he wore was wrinkled, the cuffs undone. His left ear was missing, cut off by his father in a rage when Kor was only five. In one hand was the neck of a bottle. In the other, two copper cups.
Her stomach turned over at the sight of him.
“Kor,” she said, forcing a smile as she lowered the knife in her lap.
“Would you look who it is. Jemsin’s little pirate thief. Four days late.” Kor grinned thinly as he stepped into the cabin, kicking the door shut behind him. He set the bottle and cups down on the overturned supply box in the corner. “I’m assuming you have it?”
“Have it?” asked Eris, watching him uncork the wine.
He stopped and looked back over his shoulder, shooting her a puzzled look. “The loot Jemsin told you to steal.”
Right. Eris shook her head. She’d stolen the king’s ruby so long ago now—was it a week already?—she’d forgotten it was the thing Jemsin sent her to Firgaard for. “Of course I have it.”
That strange look didn’t leave his face as he turned back to the wine and started to pour. “Well, what took you so long?”
I got distracted, she thought as she slowly traced her thumb along the hilt of Safire’s knife. “I took my time,” she said instead. “Didn’t want another run-in with the empress. Or her dogs.”
When Kor turned and offered her a full cup of wine, Eris was tempted to refuse. She didn’t like taking things from Kor. Didn’t like owing him anything. Kor had a mean spirit and a temper. But Eris was under strict orders from Jemsin to do what was needed to keep Kor on his quickly fraying leash.
Kor wanted Eris—for more than just thieving. Therefore, so long as Eris remained with Jemsin, Kor would remain with Jemsin too. It was one of the reasons the captain made her report to Kor so often. Made her stay aboard Kor’s ship—where her spindle was locked away, keeping her bound and defenseless until Jemsin summoned her for her next assignment.
Please him, Jemsin told Eris in no uncertain terms. Keep him close.
So she took the wine Kor offered her.
But she didn’t drink it.
For a heartbeat, she wondered if she might be able to slip a pinch of scarp thorn powder into Kor’s cup without him noticing. It was how she’d drugged the guards in Firgaard’s palace, enabling her to walk undetected into the king’s treasury.
“You know, I’ve been thinking.” Kor sat down on the bunk across from her. Eris’s fingers tightened around the cold copper, mentally measuring the space between them. “Thinking about how the captain always seems to send you away whenever he’s meeting Leandra.”
This time, Eris did drink—just a sip—if only to have somewhere to look other than Kor’s eyes. Which were staring hard at her now. No one but Jemsin knew who Eris really was: the fugitive the empress had been hunting for years now.
Eris and Jemsin had a deal: he would never reveal her or hand her over to the empress so long as she did his bidding. She had to steal whatever he wanted her to steal. And, more recently, she had to keep Kor biddable, too.
But the presence of the empress’s army—soldiers called Lumina because they “illuminated” her law—had increased on the Silver Sea these past few years. Eris feared Jemsin wouldn’t be able to keep her hidden forever.
If she could have run, she would have. She’d get as far as the southern isles, or maybe farther, just to be out of Leandra’s reach. To be free and safe.
But the three times she’d tried it, Jemsin’s summoner always found her. It always brought her back.
“It’s almost as if Jemsin doesn’t want you and Leandra to cross paths,” said Kor thoughtfully. “As if he’s afraid she’ll know who you are and take you away from him.”
Eris froze, looking up into his hard eyes. Has he figured out who I am?
He laughed then. “Can you imagine it? Jemsin losing his precious Death Dancer to the woman he despises? I would pay to see that.”
Eris tried to relax. Kor didn’t know who she really was. He thought of her only as the Death Dancer—a thief.
“I’d rather be owned by a pirate than a monster,” she said.
“Is there a difference?” Kor lifted his cup.
Eris forced herself to lift her own, clinking it against his.
They both drank.
Eris wiped the wine from her lips and then set the cup down on the floor. Thinking of his closed door, she asked, “Who was in your cabin tonight?”
He raised one dark brow. “Why? Are you jealous?”
Ugh. No. Not in a thousand years.
Kor took another sip. “Kadenze was there.”
Fear rippled through her as Eris thought of the creature who did all of Jemsin’s summoning. Red eyes. Black talons. A voice as old as the sea.
It was Kadenze who’d located her all three times she tried to escape.
According to the cook on the Hyacinth, who liked to tell Eris stories when she helped him wash up after dinner, Jemsin killed Kadenze’s former master and took the bird for himself. Kadenze was an ancient creature, sung about in old sailor’s ballads, said to be capable of tracking down three things: treasure, enemies, and the blood of immortals.
“Jemsin wants us in Darmoor,” Kor said. “Both of us.”
Another assignment? That was good. It would keep Eris away from the sea—and those hunting her on it.
It would also keep her out of Kor’s reach. He tended not to toy with her when there was a mission occupying him.
“What does he want us for this time?” she asked, picking up Safire’s stolen knife and running her hands over it again. The cool steel had a calming effect.
“Didn’t say. Just that he expects us there by tomorrow.”