Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Bowen

“YOU’LL JOIN.” I STARE AT THE WITCH, WAITING FOR THE other shoe to drop. She agreed too readily. I don’t know her well, but I’ve spent years dealing with an unruly crew, half of which became C?n Annwn with the same enthusiasm as the woman before me … which is to say none at all. “Just like that.”

“I’m sorry, were you looking to tie me down and torture me until I saw reason?” She lifts her brows. Her hair has already started to dry, and it’s lighter than I’d first thought, not brown but blond. It makes her green eyes look even greener, or maybe that’s the way the color is coming back into her pretty face.

“I don’t make a habit of torturing people. It’s messy and they tell you only what you want to hear. It’s not a good way to get information.”

Her brows inch higher. “You’re not joking, are you? How horrifying.”

I find myself flushing, and resent that she provoked even such a small reaction. “Torture is not a joking matter.”

“I don’t think you’d know a joking matter if it slapped you in the face.” She wiggles, pushing against my magic binding her. “Now that I’m one of your crew, you should let me go. You’re violating a whole lot of maritime law right now.”

“I’m doing no such thing.” She’s right on one thing, though. I should let her go. Her chest is heaving in a very distracting way, pressing against the sheer fabric of her top. It’s more challenging than it should be to keep my gaze on her face. “The only maritime law in Threshold is what the Council of the C?n Annwn make it. You’re not in your realm anymore. Adjust.”

“Adjust,” she repeats slowly. I can practically see her twisty mind working overtime, looking for an angle to leverage and give her the advantage. “Wait, you said ‘Council.’ You have a ruling body?”

She’s going to be a pain in the ass. I can already see her searching for an angle to exploit. For the briefest moment, I’m tempted to follow Miles’s lead and toss her overboard to be someone else’s problem. I discard the thought immediately. That is not how we do things on this ship. “Pray you’ll never have cause to meet them. They are not as nice as I am.” There’s no avoiding Lyari entirely, not when captains are required to stop in periodically and show our face to the Council, but I very intentionally set my routes to avoid the Southwest so they have no excuse to call me to task more than strictly necessary.

“Nice,” she says faintly. “Right.”

She’s still not taking this seriously, but there’s little I can do about that. “Once you give your vow, I’ll release you and get you set up in your new bunk.”

“A bunk. Of course.” She wrinkles her nose. It’s a cute nose, and I hate that I notice that cuteness. “Oh well, let’s get this over with. What’s the vow?”

“I pledge myself to the C?n Annwn. To hunt when the moon is full and howl for the death of monsters. I will bathe in their blood and protect the weak.”

“Charming.”

“It’s tradition.” I hold up my hand. “It requires a bit of blood before you speak it.” I see her sly look only because I’m watching her so closely. And I’m watching her so closely only because she’s a threat, not because I like the way the low light plays in her bright green eyes. Unnaturally green, almost. Uncanny.

“Of course it does. Can’t have shady characters going back on their word.” She grins. Trouble. This woman is trouble. I have a whole ship full of the same kind of people, so I should be used to it by now, but there’s something about Evelyn that makes my skin prickle. Bringing her onto the crew is a mistake I’ll end up being the one to pay the price for, but there’s no other choice. The laws are laws for a reason. It’s not for me—or anyone else—to ignore them because they’re inconvenient.

I nod at her chest. More specifically, at the tattoos there. “I’ve never seen a witch cast spells like that.”

“Baby, I think we both know you’ve never met a witch like me.” Her grin widens and her uncanny gaze drops to my hips.

It takes every bit of self-control I have not to react to the sheer insinuation in her tone. She doesn’t mean it. She’s attempting to provoke a response. If I give her the benefit of the doubt, I could admit that she’s probably terrified out of her mind and attempting to get through this situation on pure bravado.

I’d be a fool to give her the benefit of the doubt. She might be scared, but that’s not the dominant emotion. I doubt this woman has ever walked into a situation and not immediately looked for ways to turn it to her advantage—and steal some shit along the way.

The vow will hold her. It’s held everyone else, and I see no reason for her to be the exception, even if she thinks she can wiggle her way out of it. I focus on my magic binding her and free one of her arms. I swear I see her considering an attack before she smiles sweetly as if she’s not a threat at all. “I’ll need something to cut myself with in order to make this vow.”

Again, my instincts demand I keep anything resembling a weapon out of this woman’s hands. Unfortunately, as a witch, she is a weapon. Especially with those spells inked onto her chest. Most witches I’ve encountered over the years are able to prep only a small number, limited by whatever spell material they carry on their person. With the spells tattooed onto Evelyn, there is no need to prepare. The only limit is her capacity for magic.

I reluctantly move closer and pull a dagger from the sheath on my belt. I don’t pass it over to her. Instead, I catch her wrist and flip her hand palm up. Her skin is startlingly soft. I have no business noticing that. I press the tip of the dagger to the fleshy part of her palm.

Evelyn stares at the tiny dot of blood. “That’s it?”

“The amount of blood matters little. You, of all people, should know that. Even a drop is linked to your life force. Now, the vow.”

She frowns a little, the expression so fleeting it’s gone almost as soon as I register it. “Do you have many witches on your crew?”

“In a moment, they’ll number at one.” I gave her palm a pointed glance. “You’re wasting both of our time. Either make the vow or I toss you back in the ocean.”

“Someone should really petition this C?n Annwn Council of yours to let them know that their rules suck.”

I don’t bother to respond to that ridiculous statement. The Council doesn’t make the rules. The originals did before they disappeared into the waves of history. No C?n Annwn has seen them in longer than anyone can remember, and some of our people live thousands of years. None among my crew has that kind of life span, but there’s an old hunter who is quartermaster to the Harpy. Once, when we happened to make port at the same time, we shared a drink. The stories he told, passed down from his grandfather who lived just as long as him, were enough to make me grateful that the originals don’t bother with us any longer.

It’s best not to do anything to draw their attention or cause them to stir from wherever they reside now. I’m not sure any of us would survive it if they did. “The vow, witch.”

She huffs out a breath but relents after a moment of pained silence. “I pledge myself to the C?n Annwn. To hunt when the moon is full and howl for the death of monsters. I will bathe in their blood and protect the weak.”

Winning this fight should feel more momentous than it does. Instead, all I feel is exhausted. This is only the first battle of many with this woman, and I’m already fighting on several fronts aboard the Hag. One wrong move will be enough to tip the careful balance I’ve fought so hard for … the same balance Miles is constantly striving to undermine.

“It’s done.” As much as I would like to keep this woman restrained until I can assure her good behavior, it’s no longer an option. I reluctantly withdraw my magic and set her carefully on the floor.

Evelyn brushes at her clothing in a way that is obviously designed to distract. “I’ve never been a pirate before. Where are we headed, Captain? Off to steal some rich merchant’s booty?”

“I thank you never to use the word ‘booty’ in my presence again.” I motion for her to precede me. “We’re hunting a sea monster. It’s been terrorizing one of our local villages, so it’s our job to remove the threat.”

“Wow. So you actually do things beyond kidnap helpless civilians? How noble.”

“Yes, we actually do more than that.” I hold the door open for her and follow her back into the sunlight. It’s impossible to avoid noticing how it caresses her light hair almost lovingly. As if her energy draws the sunbeams more than anyone else on the deck.

“Kit!”

“Up here, Captain.” Kit descends one of the ropes so quickly that I wince in sympathy. Ne lands on the deck with a boom that sounds like a cannon going off, and strides toward us. Kit is a tall person with warm dark brown skin and the kind of shoulders that could hold up a mast in a hurricane. Ne is also one of the few crew members who Miles can’t sway. I trust nem to get Evelyn settled in without causing an incident.

Kit eyes Evelyn. “Not a mermaid, after all.”

“She’s a new member of our crew. See her outfitted and give her a bunk.” I barely resist the urge to tell nem to keep a close eye on her. It’s unnecessary. Kit can take care of this without letting Evelyn’s cunning words sway nem to some kind of foolish action. If Miles hasn’t managed to do that after months of campaigning, Evelyn won’t in a few short hours.

“Sure thing, Captain.”

“You.” I give Evelyn a long look. “Don’t give nem any trouble.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kit makes an obvious attempt to hide nir smile. “This way, miss.”

“No need to stand on formality. Call me Evelyn.” She smiles up at nem, every inch a charming beauty.

It’s only as they walk away that I realize I’m missing something. I touch my empty sheath and where my dagger was just a few moments ago. Irritation flares. How the fuck did she pickpocket me again? I wasn’t even close to her this time. It shouldn’t have been possible. She didn’t do magic. I’m certain of that, at least.

I’m going to have to keep an eye on her. A close one. That thought should fill me with dread, but for the first time in years, a slow curl of anticipation goes through me. This woman is nothing like the rest of my crew, or the other people I’ve encountered in Threshold. It feels like the winds have shifted, but I don’t know yet if it means a blessed trip—or if there’s a hurricane bearing down on us.

I turn for the helm and nearly run into Miles. He doesn’t look any happier than he did earlier. His irritation is there in the way his skin has shifted to a dull orange and his tongue flicks out at regular intervals. He looks over to where Kit leads Evelyn down to the crew quarters. “This is a mistake. The rest of the crew thinks so, too.”

“They would after you’ve been dripping poison into their ears about her.” I can’t quite keep my anger from my voice. “You had no right to try to kill her before we gave her the choice.”

Miles turns his inky eyes on me. “There’s a reason most witches don’t survive in Threshold for long. Kill her now, kill her later, but she won’t last and you damn well know it.”

As with any group of varied peoples, the C?n Annwn has factions. I don’t like thinking about it. We’re supposed to be a unified group. It should be cut-and-dried—the laws exist, we follow them, end of story. Unfortunately, not everyone feels that way, and they don’t treat all trespassers equally.

They don’t treat the locals equally, either.

I brush that thought off. This is different. Some of our people consider witches to be monsters. Which means they don’t give witches the choice I just gave Evelyn. They kill them on sight.

I hold Miles’s gaze steadily. “She took the vow. She’s part of the crew. A strike against her is a strike against me and the rest of the C?n Annwn. I trust you’ll keep that in mind.”

“No need to threaten me.” He holds up his hands, but he’s got a glint in his eye I don’t like. She’s part of the crew as long as I’m captain, but should that change, her protections disappear the moment he takes the position. The Council might rule the C?n Annwn, but each individual ship is governed by its captain, and some play faster and looser with the rules than others.

“It’s not a threat. It’s a reminder. Call for a vote if you want, but until you do, I am captain of this ship, and you will obey me.”

“Yes, you’re captain … for now.”

There’s nothing else to say to that. I move past him to where Dia stands at the helm. She’s a wizened old crone, but she’s half fae, so gods alone know how old she actually is. For all that her medium-brown face is lined with wrinkles and her hair is white peppered with black instead of the other way around, she’s spry on her feet and has the sharpest mind I’ve ever encountered. “Captain.”

“Dia. How are we looking?” We haven’t been moving as quickly as I’d like; the winds seeming to work against us from the moment we got our orders about this particular sea monster. We don’t have many details beyond the fact that it’s killed several people in the village on Sarvi. But most of our orders come in like that—there are deaths and we’re sent to investigate and remove whatever monster is responsible.

Dia’s brown eyes glaze over into milky white. Her magic is one of the strangest—and most useful—I’ve ever encountered. She’s a weather mage who, by some twist of family lineage, rather than being able to control the weather, has precognition linked specifically with weather patterns. We’re almost never caught unawares in a storm because she’s on board.

She finally shakes her head and her eyes clear. “We have a problem. That little squall we intended to use to speed our way along has developed into a ship killer. We can skirt the edges of it, but it will take us significantly off course and add nearly a week to the journey.” She taps one wizened finger against the helm. I let her think. I know this part of Threshold as well as she does, but I’ve long since learned that the best way to manage the strong personalities in my crew is to let them have their say. Especially when I’m in agreement. “If we cut to the west, we can make port in Yaltia just as it hits. Rough ride, but nothing we can’t handle. Storm should be through in the next day. That way we only lose two days instead of seven.”

It’s no competition. I glance at Miles. For once, he doesn’t seem inclined to argue for the sake of asserting his own dominance. He shrugs. “Sounds like a plan.”

I hate that it feels like he’s giving me permission instead of the other way around. “You know what to do.”

He nods and starts barking orders, and the crew shifts like a well-oiled machine to meet the new demands.

There’s the added bonus of Yaltia being close enough to the attacks that they might have more updated news about what kind of situation we’re headed into with this particular monster. My crew is experienced and good at what they do, but every bit of information we can gather ahead of time is worth its weight in gold.

It will also give me an opportunity to see if the witch intends to keep her vow … or attempts to escape at the first opportunity.