Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
I rush to the hatch that leads belowdecks and slam it down. It takes a few seconds to find a sword to shove into the thing to hold it shut. None too soon, either. Cries rise up belowdecks and hands shove at the hatch, making the sword rattle.
In the midst of the chaos, the captain appears. I’ve dealt with Captain Ean more than a few times over the years. He’s fair enough in his trades, but he’s an asshole and a half who lets his crew run rampant whenever they make port. For that, I’ll never forgive him.
Recognition rolls over his features as he takes me in. “You!”
He charges me, but Lizzie appears behind him like a vengeful ghost and wraps her hand around his throat, drawing him up short despite the fact that he’s twice her size. “Uh-uh. Drop the sword.”
For a moment, it seems like he might try to fight his way out of the situation, but she tightens her grip on his throat, her blood claws pricking his skin, and he relents immediately. The sword falls to the deck with a clatter that makes me jump even though I expected it.
“Good.” She’s practically glowing in the moonlight, and there isn’t a single part of her that’s bored or uninterested now. She’s grinning widely, flashing fangs. “Now, my dear Captain, I have a question for you. It’s very important, so listen closely.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
She laughs lightly. “On the contrary, this is the most fun I’ve had in ages. But you may regret it for the short time you have left to live. So let’s get down to business.”
He goes pale beneath his suntanned skin, as he seems to finally register the headless body on the deck. “What have you done to Bronagh?”
“He took something that doesn’t belong to him. I’m sure you understand that the original owner is not pleased with that theft.” She shakes him a little. “Where’s the selkie skin?”
He doesn’t even try to pretend he’s unaware of what she’s asking about. “In my cabin. We couldn’t find a buyer locally, so we were heading to Lyari at the end of the week. Nobles love shit like that, and they’re willing to pay a hefty sum.”
Of course they are. A selkie pelt brings exceptional bragging rights. There are legends that such a thing can be used to control the selkie themself, but they’re nothing more than folktales. If that was ever a power our skins held, it isn’t one any longer.
“Very good,” Lizzie practically purrs. “Now you have a choice, my dear Captain. You can help us track down the Crimson Hag—”
He makes a shocked sound. “The Crimson Hag is a Cŵn Annwn ship. Chasing it down is suicide. I won’t do it.”
“Pity.” Lizzie isn’t surprised, and neither am I. There was no way he was ever going to bow to our plan, but a part of me had hoped to be proven wrong. I don’t like the man, but that doesn’t mean I wish him dead.
Unfortunately, it’s too late for that. A hand appears in the center of his chest, and my eyes refuse to acknowledge the fact that Lizzie just shoved her hand through the rib cage of a grown man. He slumps to the ground without a sound, his blood pooling out to join Bronagh’s.
“Damn it, Lizzie. You didn’t even give him a chance to change his mind.”
“He wasn’t going to. You know it and I know it. I was merely saving us time.” She examines the heart in her hand, and my horrified brain is certain that it beats a few times before going still, as if it’s not quite aware that it has left the safety of its body. “Let the rest of the crew up. They have their own choices to make.”
I stare at the scene around us, at the crew members who are softly groaning as they regain consciousness, at the beheaded body of the quartermaster and the heartless body of the captain. It’s gruesome and terrifying, and Lizzie stands in the middle of it, her pale skin bathed in red. She looks like some otherworldly creature that appeared from a nightmare, one intended to seduce and then traumatize.
But keeping the crew locked up indefinitely isn’t an option. This will be our one chance to get what we need. I reach for the sword with shaking hands and pull it free. Then I step back, putting a decent amount of distance between me and the crew members, who will no doubt be furious.
But when they emerge from belowdecks, it’s cautiously and with fear in their eyes. The Serpent’s Cry doesn’t run a particularly large crew. The captain was always cheap, so he kept it bare bones. There are scarcely a dozen people who file onto the deck and stare at the carnage.