14. Chapter Fourteen

Kalia blew out the breath she had been holding as soon as she got far enough from the captain"s cabin, finally allowing the fear that had taken root in her belly to grow. It had begun to rain when she was in the cabin; the light droplets adhered to the wool of her skirts and stays. It was ridiculous— absolutely abhorrent— that Rahmi had even entertained the possibility of her helping him. His crew had burnt the bordello to the ground and had probably killed all of those inside who were unable to escape. And he thought she would help him?

And, gods, she had threatened to turn him into a beetle. Could Djinn even turn people into beetles? She had no fucking clue. That was something she needed to figure out…and fast. Preferably before someone realized she was lying.

Scowling at no one in particular, Kalia pushed through a small gathering of the crew, making sure to march straight up the middle. Luckily for them, she could stalk through without an issue, though one of the men made a gesture of prayer toward the gods in her wake. She didn"t bother giving him a second glance.

She continued her trek along the ship"s side, feeling the wind rush through her hair, flapping her skirts like the black sails from above. Blue extended as far as her eyes could see, blurring with the horizon as the rain lashed in the distance. She…hated it. She wasn"t built for the salty, wet air, much preferring the dry heat of Sha"Hadra. Even the fresh scent of oncoming storms didn"t quite temper back the body odor and sweat wafting from the crew. But she had learned from a young age that nothing was permanent, and this wouldn"t be either. She needed to ride it out and wait until the captain got bored with her and released her back to the continent.

She didn"t know if she could wait that long. There had to be coins on the ship. They had to come close to land at some point. The better play would be to prepare a stash for when she could jump off and swim ashore. A plan, that"s what she needed.

Kalia placed her forearms on the gunnel, staring into the white-crested waves below. They slapped against the keel, churning beneath them with every slice forward. She couldn"t remember much from her childhood, but she did remember that her mother loved the sea. She talked about it often, explaining in detail how the tides rose and fell with the moon, how the starfish and barnacles cling to the rocks, and how fish of all colors and sizes dart along the sunny shore. She had expected to see the coast with her mother, not…

She shook her head and cleared her throat. She didn"t need those memories, so she tempered them back, too.

"Ghoul in your graveyard?"

Kalia sighed, not bothering to glance at the man she knew who stood beside her. She hadn"t seen him since he had been taken from the brig. "What?"

"It"s just— it"s a saying my grandmother used to say. You know…ghoul in your graveyard? Bee in your bonnet? Is something bothering you?" the man chuckled, light and airy. "It"s silly, I guess, but I always think of her when—"

"Is there something I can help you with?" Kalia interjected. The storm clouds were marching closer, their edged wisps gathering above the masts of The Mark of Malice. The men had already begun pulling in the sails.

"I"m the man who—"

"I know who you are." Her words were a stone barrier she erected between them, refusing him the opportunity to come any closer.

There was a short pause, a gust of wind billowing over the quarterdeck before the man laughed again. "Are you always this pleasant, or are my good looks winning you over? It has to be my looks."

Kalia blinked as glaring irritation kindled in her veins. "Just so we"re clear—" she started to say, turning to scold him— and wanting to look in the eye while doing so— but stopped short. She hadn"t seen the man up close, and not in the daylight, but she hadn"t recalled the split lower lip, the second purple bruise underneath his right eye, and the gouge mark on his cheek that looked like it could have been from the pommel of a cutlass. "What happened to you?"

The man smiled, the cut on his lower lip opening enough that Kalia"s stomach flipped out of disgust before dragging a hand through his mop of dark curls. "Just the crew joking around. I think it"s what one would call a rite of passage. But I could be misusing the phrase."

She looked at him further, studying the young, bronzed face she once thought was pale. The smattering of freckles was nearly blending now. His brown eyes exuded joy and lightheartedness despite his injuries. It seemed all he needed was a hot meal or two.

"I think they just beat the piss out of you, no rite of passage involved," Kalia finally said, turning back to face the open sea. The rain droplets were heavier now, plunking against the deck"s wood.

He laughed. "It"s a possibility, I suppose." He paused, and Kalia felt his stare boring into the side of her head. "Are you going to tell me your name? Mine is Reshef."

She narrowed her eyes. "Do you need to know my name?"

"It"s common courtesy," he said with a simple shrug that made him appear unbothered despite her standoffish attitude. "And only polite, considering I did try and rescue you from being carted off by a band of bloodthirsty pirates."

Kalia sent him a sidelong look, catching the black stone on the end of a silver chain that hung around his neck. "Stunning rescue, Reshef, considering a band of bloodthirsty pirates carted me off, and we both ended up here." She let him hear the mercurial bite to her tone. It didn"t seem to faze him.

Thunder rumbled, close enough that it shook the gunnel under her hands, and a second gust of wind lifted mist from the cresting waves. There was a snap of rope and a series of shouts as something heavy hit the deck behind them. Kalia glanced over her shoulder, noting the collapsed rigging that had tangled with a set of ropes from the mainsail. There was a second snap and another outcry as Alaric brought down a piece of the broken rope across another man"s back.

"That"s Karim," Reshef said, answering a question Kalia hadn"t deigned to ask. He leaned an elbow against the gunnel, shifting his weight onto one foot to cross one ankle over the other. "He"s been struggling since he came aboard the ship. Turns out, the captain took him, too."

Kalia licked her lips, tasting the salt from the breeze on her skin. "How do you know all of this?"

Reshef leaned forward, gesturing for her to come closer as though it were an important secret he wasn"t meant to share. When she was within a few inches of his mouth, he whispered, "Because I talk to others like a normal, friendly person." He fell back, resuming his casual stance against the gunnel, and reached up to slide that black stone along the chain. "Did you know this is one of those cursed ships that travel the seas? The captain can only go ashore once every seven years. Can you imagine? I would kill someone over a hot buttered biscuit before then."

Kalia couldn"t quite stifle her grin. "Mine would be pastries stuffed with almonds and sesame seeds and coated with honey. It"s a sweet cookie from the city I was born in, and—" She trailed off, suddenly realizing she was about to share something personal. She cleared her throat and asked, "What do you know about the curse? I just learned about it, too."

If Reshef noted her shift in conversation, he didn"t comment on it. "Enough to know that most of the crew is over one hundred years old and not enough to know why I haven"t been asked to join." His gaze became inquisitive. "Do you think I should take that personally?"

"It"s probably because you"re chatty," Kalia informed him, and he looked at her mildly affronted.

"Boy!" Alaric called over the heads of the men, pointing a thick, accusatory finger at Reshef. "Get back to your position! We have sails to bring in—!" A third gust of wind blew, drowning the rest of his statement and catching a half-furled sail with enough gusto to split the seam.

"I guess it"s my time to be unchatty," Reshef said, pushing himself from the gunnel. "Thank you for your honesty. Though, as an aside, you could be a bit gentler on the delivery."

Kalia didn"t know why she did it. Something about his boyish charm and wide, innocent eyes reminded her of a brother she had long ago. "Wait," she said, reaching out to clasp her hand around his forearm, tugging him back. "Take this." Letting go of his arm, she reached into the pockets of her skirts and fished out the small jar of salve she had been carrying around. "Use this for the cuts on your lip and cheek. Don"t use it all in one go. You strike me as someone who needs direction." She placed the jar into his palm. "But it"ll heal you right up."

Reshef stared at the jar long enough that Kalia wondered if he would say anything. Finally, he glanced up, a wry smile plastered on his face. "Consider this the start of a very long friendship," he said, stuffing the jar into his breeches pocket.

"We aren"t going to be friends," Kalia replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You"re right," Reshef amended with a wink. "We"re going to be the best of friends."

By the time night had fallen and the crew navigated the ship around the brunt of the storm, Kalia had managed to make her way back to the room she shared with Shirin and Elodie. It took three wrong turns, four dead-ends, and an oddly timed run-in with two men attempting to wrestle the torn sail into storage for repair, but she finally made it just as the night crew went to their stations on the quarterdeck.

Kalia wedged open the door with a shoulder, stumbling over the threshold to see Shirin reach under her mattress and withdraw the hilt of a small blade. Elodie jumped, the soup she was holding spilling over the bowl"s rim and dripping onto the front of her dress.

"Oh, it"s just you," Shirin said, straightening to a stand. She angled her head as she studied Kalia, raising her brows at the wool skirts and stays she still wore. "Did you find the captain, then?"

"And more," Kalia replied, though she couldn"t stop herself from coolly adding, "I met Cora."

Elodie let out a slight, choked sound as the corner of Shirin"s lip curled into a smirk. Shirin reached down to pick up Kalia"s red dress, freshly laundered and without the stiff, bloody stains. She tossed it onto Kalia"s new bed, where it crumpled against the flattened pillow. "It"s been quite some time since I"ve heard those two names in the same sentence," Shirin casually said, picking up another skirt and carefully folding it. "You must have stressed him out more than he"s used to these days."

Kalia considered her momentarily before she sank gracefully into the wooden chair next to the basin, now empty and upturned, to drain the rest of the water onto the worn, frayed rug. "I certainly wouldn"t recommend his ship as a luxury passage. However, it seems we can have the pick of the litter when it comes to sexual exploitation as long as one can settle for scurvy and bad teeth. A single rating for that."

Shirin paused as if debating saying something else but continued folding the laundry silently.

"I brought you some soup from the galley," Elodie said, holding out the bowl. After spilling it, her flush deepened from a dusky rose to crimson. "How often do djinn eat? Do you need to eat more than once?" Her eyes gleamed with intense curiosity. Kalia reached forward to take the bowl, sniffing it gingerly. "It"s just fish stew. Doc, the ship"s galley lead, caught them in the sea last night."

The stench was acrid, bordering on sickening, and the overt fishiness nearly made Kalia"s eyes water. She almost set the bowl on the end table next to the bed when she glanced up to spot Elodie looking at her with those wide, curiosity-ridden eyes. Something squeezed in her chest from the innocence of it, and she lifted the bowl to her lips to take a small sip instead. It tasted just like it smelled. Kalia made a concerted effort to force it down.

"Mmmm…" Kalia said, managing to swallow her grimace with it.

Elodie opened her mouth to respond, but Shirin cut her off, not bothering to look up from her laundry folding. "It"s disgusting. Doc should be a better cook than he is."

"He"s only been in the galley for thirty years!" Elodie retorted, much to Shirin"s chagrin. "Remember when Isaiah was the galley lead? He had been there for nearly eighty, and his beef still tasted like—"

"Thirty years is long enough to figure out how to make a simple stew," Shirin shot back. "He"s made it every single day."

Kalia made a noncommittal noise of agreement. She harkened back to the first time the madam had made her dinner while traveling from Sha"Hadra to the capital. She fumbled over the wood-burning stove and burned two different chicken breasts before finally giving up and handing Kalia six coins to order them food from the tavern"s kitchen. It had been the most money she had ever held— at least to that point.

"Not everyone can be as good a chef as you. We should give him the benefit of—the benefit of—" Elodie trailed off with a loud yawn, covering her open mouth with the back of her hand.

Shirin looked at her with a gentle look that could have been from a mother to a child. "Why don"t you lay down and get some rest? I"ll take the first watch tonight." She bent over, snagging the pile of laundry and dragging it from the middle bed to the one she was standing to the side of.

First watch? Kalia"s brow furrowed as the ship creaked, another wave hitting the hull. Elodie smiled gratefully as she pulled back the corner of the middle bed, revealing a stained white sheet. Almost as though she could sense Kalia"s question bubbling to the surface, Elodie said, "There are bad people on the ship. It"s unsafe for both of us to be asleep at the same time."

The soft sound of the fabric against leather garnered Kalia"s attention back to Shirin. An incredulous expression passed over Kalia"s face as Shirin pulled out the blade from beneath the pillow completely this time. Kalia finally looked over Shirin and then Elodie"s faces. It was the first time she noticed their drawn, dulled gazes, the dark circles beneath their eyes, and the sallow tinge to their skin that only extreme exhaustion could bring.

A shiver of rage ran through Kalia"s veins, but not at the thought of being on the ship and surrounded by a group of violent men. That she was used to. No, it was at the thought of the two women in front of her feeling so unsafe that they took turns every night keeping watch with a dagger resting in their laps. She forced herself to hold Shirin"s sharp stare, her glare daring Kalia to say anything about their current way of doing things.

Kalia raised her brows and held out her hand, balancing the untouched bowl of soup in the other. "I"ll take the first watch," she said, tilting her head. "Unless you—" She was cut off, interrupted suddenly by the gong of a bell ringing from the quarterdeck above them.

Elodie groaned as Shirin tossed the petticoat she had been folding back onto the pile, turning to take the bowl of soup from Kalia"s hands and placing it on the end table. "Captain"s summoning us to the deck," she explained as Elodie bent down to retie her boots onto her stocking-covered feet. "Can"t be good if he"s doing it this late."

As Shirin wrenched the door open, Kalia stood from her seat, following her into the narrow hallway. Elodie shut the door behind them, the sharp snap echoing down the empty hallway. Shirin led the way, finally joining the group of men from the berth as they bottlenecked the bottom of the stairs, their empty hammocks still swinging fruitlessly with the ship"s sway. She met Cora"s stare from across the room, the woman sending her a sneer that would have rivaled Mintie"s.

Kalia merely licked the pad of her thumb before wiping the corner of her mouth with it.

The stairs opened to the deck, and the fierce winds hadn"t quite settled from the storm. Kalia reached back to quickly braid her hair to keep it from tangling. She was jolted forward as two men who hadn"t been paying attention bumped her back, and she glanced over her shoulder with the coldest stare she could muster, one that sent both men fleeing into the crowd. She swore Shirin snorted in amused appreciation as they crossed the quarterdeck.

The scene before her became clearer the closer she got. Three men stood on a makeshift stage created by a series of crates. Each man stood just high enough to be seen at the back of the crowd. Kalia recognized Reshef as one of the men on display, and he sent her a friendly wave when his scanning gaze landed on her.

She looked at him wide-eyed in disbelief, shaking her head at the casual way he leaned against the mainmast, how his arms dangled carelessly at his sides, and how he mouthed great salve before mimicking holding a jar between his thumb and forefinger. From how the two other men trembled, their throats bobbing with forced swallows, Kalia thought Reshef should be far more concerned with what was about to happen.

On the other end of the stage stood Alaric and Rahmi, both watching the gathering crew with a hand planted on the pommel of their cutlasses. Rahmi looked the part of a cursed captain with his fitted long coat, the additional daggers strapped to his waist, and the way his sculpted jaw tensed with every pass of his gaze over the crowd as though he were looking for someone.

The moon shone brightly behind the last clouds blanketing the night sky. The shadows" cast caught him at an ethereal angle, bringing out the wild manner in which he held himself.

He was handsome; she would give him that. If she were honest with herself, she would have admitted that he was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. It was too bad that he was about as well-received as Doc"s fish stew. It was also too bad that she was going to rob him blind and, hopefully, kill him in the process. She took a moment to send a quick flash of a vision down that bridge, one of her gleefully feeding his dismembered body to a school of sharks.

Rahmi"s eyes snapped to connect with hers, a devious smile playing on his lips. Like a predator scrutinizing his prey, it was not reassuring. Kalia briefly wondered what lay up his excessively expensive, gold-trimmed sleeves. She raised a brow. He quirked one in return. She sent him a second vision of an alligator eating his hand, and his smile only deepened. He pulled one of the daggers from his belt, a hand wrapped tightly around the hilt.

As the crowding began to slow, Rahmi broke his eye contact and turned toward his crew. "I"ve been a fool," he began, his tone methodically controlled. The murmurs came to a screeching halt, silence falling over them. For the moment, the only sounds were the creaking of the ship in the waves and the rustle of the ropes against wood. "I"ve been a fool because I"ve sent us on countless journeys, bartering for souls and looting cargo ships."

"Like we"ve had much to complain about!" A man from the middle of the deck piped up, and the outburst was followed by a smattering of hollow laughs that skittered over the crowd.

Rahmi"s smile went glacial, the merit of a man who didn"t enjoy being interrupted, and the low chuckles ended immediately. "When we visited Captain Devlin Cato of The Phantom Night, he expanded on the makings of a gemstone that could break bonds and shatter curses. He was resolute that such a stone existed. And we"ve found a djinn to make that very gem work."

Oil slid through Kalia"s gut as the men all spun around to survey her, some resorting to standing on their toes to get a better look. Reshef stiffened, his smile sliding into a tight line as though he were on the verge of being sick. She kept silent, fixing a mask of neutrality on her face. Where was the captain going with this? She wasn"t too sure she wanted to know.

Rahmi didn"t give her an option.

"Our djinn has made it clear in her first few days that she is unwilling to help us with our endeavors," Rahmi went, and those men glared at her with the ferocity of one nearing a pit of venomous snakes. "We"re here to convince her otherwise." He crossed the crates, each groaning dangerously under his weight, and held the dagger to the throat of the first man. "We have three men. Three innocent men. You have three chances, Kalia Salam, to change your mind. With every refusal, one of these men will die."

Kalia said nothing as the crew"s glares turned wary, shifting from the captain to her and then back again. She crossed her arms over her chest, surveying Rahmi with a look of utmost boredom. He wouldn"t do that to his men, wouldn"t—

Rahmi said nothing as he wrenched the edge of the blade into the man"s throat, ripping it across his neck before withdrawing it with the stomach-twisting crunch of metal against bone. Kalia started as the man scrambled for the gaping cut, the blood streaming and bubbling with every futile move he took. He fell to his knees, losing his balance and tipping off the edge of the crates. He writhed on the deck momentarily but didn"t stand up again.

Kalia lifted her gaze back to Rahmi, who stood there watching her with a wide grin playing on his lips despite the blood dripping from the long edge of his dagger and onto the toe of his boot. She watched, still silent, as he moved to the second man, who trembled like he was caught naked in a snowstorm. Rahmi held the blade to the man"s throat, cocking his head.

"What do you say?" he asked, digging the point into the man"s flesh. "Would you help us?"

The man let out an involuntary whimper, one that tugged at the spot behind Kalia"s navel. But still, she remained silent. She wouldn"t bend to this insane man"s whims, wouldn"t dare fold to his manipulations.

"No?" Rahmi went on. "I can keep going, ruehi. I have men aboard this ship who would happily be given to Samael, God of Death." When she said nothing, he shrugged a single shoulder before wrenching the blade into the man"s throat and ripping it out again. Just like the first, the man gave a strangled, gurgled cry before staggering backward and falling from the crates. His body hit the rungs of the anchor drop, a sickening crack reverberating over the deck. The crew surrounding her winced, some shifting to distance themselves and Kalia.

Rahmi moved toward Reshef, who was still lounging casually against the mainmast, picking at the cuticles of his nails. He hadn"t seemed to have noticed the deaths of the two men despite the blood splattered on his right forearm. Alaric reached him first, grabbing his upper arms and forcing him to straighten. Reshef looked up, surprise flitting over his face, as though he suddenly remembered he was late for an important meeting.

"I just want to point out," Reshef said quickly as Rahmi placed the blade just above the silver chain around his neck, "that I certainly did not volunteer to be given to Samael, so if someone wants to meet him in my stead—" Blood gathered where the blade pricked into his flesh.

Something broke in her at the sight of the young man with the blade against his neck, all innocence ebbed from the previously joyous glint in his eyes. Gods, he looked just like her brother at that moment, a brother who had done everything to protect her from the guards who had broken into their home. Given everything…

"Wait," Kalia said, her voice hoarse from the lump in her throat. "Wait."

Rahmi paused, though didn"t remove the dagger from Reshef"s neck. An artery bulged, frantically pumping beneath the point of the blade. He quirked an expectant brow, his lips curving into a menacing smirk.

"I"ll do it," Kalia finally said, sighing through her nose as her heart thundered against her chest. She was going to hate herself for this. She already knew. She would hate every moment of being on this ship, every second she was in the presence of Rahmi-fucking-Abada. Still, she continued, "I"ll help you find the gemstone. I"ll help you use it. Just…just let him go."

Rahmi seemed satisfied, offering her a conspiratorial wink that made her want to reach up and rip his eyes from his sockets. "Gladly." He pushed Reshelf forward, who caught himself before stumbling from the crates. "Alaric set our course for the Eerie Isles. We need to pick up Wright Thackeray." He looked over the heads of the men in front of Kalia, pointing the dagger at her. "If you go back on our deal, ruehi, I know just what man to come to first."