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  “That makes sense,” Yanko allowed.

  “But if you find any more forces you can recruit along the way, I would not object to more help.” Zirabo glanced toward Pey Lu’s pirate fleet.

  Yanko made a choking noise. He didn’t even think he could convince his mother to sail down and glare at the Turgonians for a couple of days.

  “I’ll do my best,” Yanko said.

  “Good.” Zirabo patted his shoulder, then headed toward the dinghy. It had returned to the yacht, and the rowers waited.

  As Yanko watched him climb in, he told himself that he could accomplish what Zirabo had asked. Take control of a continent, recruit troops for a war. No problem.

  Yanko rubbed his face and tried to tell himself that his chore wasn’t as daunting as gathering an army to march on the capital.

  Kei plucked at his hair. “Seeds?”

  2

  “You will take them but not me?” Jhali asked, pointing at Arayevo and Lakeo.

  Yanko stood with the three women at the railing of the yacht, waiting for Dak and Tynlee to finish a private conversation and join them. Full daylight had come, and Zirabo and the last of the prisoners had been transported to the beach.

  Shouts and the clangs of swords rang across the waves, the first sounds of battle in Yellow Delta. Yanko felt strange for not being a part of it, like he was abandoning his people as the yacht cut through the waves, heading toward his mother’s flagship.

  “They don’t wish to kill Captain Pey Lu.” Yanko didn’t mention that Arayevo and Lakeo had each expressed interest in joining his pirate mother.

  Even now, Lakeo stood, the wind ruffling her short hair as she pointed at the flagship’s numerous cannons. Arayevo gestured expansively, detailing some past adventure she’d had with the smuggler Minark and explaining how much better it would be to work for a woman. Yanko didn’t like Minark, but he was skeptical that serving under Pey Lu would be a dream.

  As he’d reminded Arayevo often, Pey Lu had either ordered people tortured and killed in the past, or she’d stood back and let her bloodthirsty crew handle it. How would Arayevo feel if she had to partake in something like that? Yanko could imagine Lakeo turning into a hardened killer, even if he would prefer that she find a tutor in the mental sciences and become someone more noble, but he had a harder time imagining Arayevo in that role. Maybe he was delusional, but back in their village, she’d been trained as an herb gatherer and poultice maker. She might crave adventure, but he was certain she didn’t crave the idea of preying on the weak or killing people.

  “You’ll attack her if given the chance,” Yanko added.

  Jhali’s arms were folded over her chest as she glared at him. Maybe he’d only imagined that kiss. That seemed far more plausible than her accompanying him these last few weeks because of some secret longing for him.

  “So?” she asked.

  “That’s going to hurt my odds of getting another favor from her.”

  “I do not like it that you ask her for favors.” Anger sparked in Jhali’s dark eyes. “She is pure evil.”

  Pey Lu had killed Jhali’s mother. Yanko could never let himself forget that. Jhali might have stopped trying to assassinate him—though she’d warned him that other mage hunters would try, since the Sun Dragon family had paid her sect up front for the job—but she’d said nothing about abandoning her personal vendetta against Pey Lu.

  “I don’t disagree that she has done a great deal of evil in her life.” Yanko understood his mother a little now and grasped what had turned her into the woman she was today, but he couldn’t defend her choices. “However, Prince Zirabo has ordered me to secure the new continent for Nuria, and she’s the only one I know with a fleet.”

  Jhali’s lip curled. “You do not need her assistance.”

  “Right,” Lakeo said, turning toward Jhali. She and Arayevo had stopped talking in order to listen in. “Yanko has you. What would he need with a fleet?”

  Jhali ignored her, not even glancing her way. Her gaze remained fixed on Yanko.

  He didn’t let himself look away. Her eyes weren’t filled with loathing, the way they had once been when she looked at him. They were hard and determined and… he wasn’t sure. Challenging? He’d never had any luck reading her thoughts, so he didn’t know why he believed he could read her eyes.

  “It’s been weeks since we left, and the Turgonians have a head start,” Yanko said. “We may arrive and find they already have a fleet there with soldiers planting their flags all over the continent.”

  “Is it hard to plant a flag when there’s no soil?” Lakeo asked.

  “There was dead seaweed,” Arayevo said.

  “I can’t believe the prince thinks it’s going to be an advantage to get that bare hunk of rock.” Lakeo shook her head.

  “You can deal with the Turgonians without the assistance of your vile mother.” Jhali, still holding his gaze, turned that last word into a curse. “You are powerful. You slew a soul construct, and you have the loyalty of the Turgonian who slew the other.”

  Yanko threw an alarmed glance at Dak, hoping he hadn’t overheard that. He was still speaking with Tynlee, their heads bent together, and neither looked over.

  “I don’t have his loyalty,” Yanko hurried to say in case Dak had heard. “Turgonia has his loyalty. He was on a mission for his president.”

  “He would fight at your side,” Jhali said with certainty. “He has done so before. And—” Jhali looked at Lakeo for the first time but not for long, “—I will also.”

  Arayevo raised surprised eyebrows. Lakeo glowered suspiciously, and Yanko could envision her jumping in to remind Yanko that Jhali couldn’t be trusted.

  “For the good of Nuria,” Jhali added. “If Prince Zirabo believes the new land is worth fighting for, then I accept that it is. You do not need her.” She flicked angry fingers toward the pirate ships.

  Dak and Tynlee ended their conversation and walked toward them. Yanko thought about using their approach as an excuse not to respond to Jhali’s last comment, but he switched to telepathy so he could speak privately to her. Assuming she didn’t have her mage-hunter walls so barricaded that she wouldn’t hear.

  I thank you for your faith, but Zirabo has given me a daunting task. He specifically requested that I ask Pey Lu for help in this. I think he suspects the Turgonians are already there, perhaps in great numbers.

  Jhali lifted her chin. Take me with you to speak with her, then. I will not attack her, not this time. I will stand at your side and show that I support you now. Maybe it will surprise her and give you more power in her eyes. She may be more interested in dealing with you then.

  Er, do you? Support me? Yanko well remembered her saving him from the soldier while he’d been busy battling the soul construct, but he also remembered her stating that they were even now. He’d saved her life, and she’d saved his. He’d assumed that meant there was no reason for them to work together again. But then she’d kissed him. Women were confusing.

  I am not here for Lakeo’s wit, Jhali replied.

  “How long do you think they’re going to keep glaring at each other?” Arayevo whispered to Lakeo.

  “No idea,” Lakeo said, “though she’s glaring. Yanko mostly looks puzzled.”

  “True, but that’s his normal look. I don’t know if we can base anything on it.”

  Yanko cleared his throat and looked at Dak. Dak, his only non-female companion besides Kei, seemed a safer bet for eye contact.

  “If you’re ready, I can levitate us over.” Yanko waved to the flagship.

  The yacht captain had steered them close to its side. Consul Tynlee’s craft was tiny in comparison and notably lacking in weapons. The captain had to be nervous about all the open gunports looming above their heads.

  “Are we all going?” Dak looked pointedly at Jhali.

  Jhali hadn’t looked away from Yanko. He didn’t know why this mattered so much to her, and he didn’t know if he was a fool to believe her words. Lakeo continue
d to be suspicious of her. What if she’d kissed Yanko simply to throw him off?

  “Yes,” Yanko found himself saying. “Jhali has assured me that she won’t attack Pey Lu.”

  “Unless she attacks me first,” Jhali said.

  “You didn’t mention that proviso before.” Yanko abruptly wondered if Jhali had assumed from the beginning that Pey Lu would jump at the chance for revenge for what had to have been a nearly fatal throwing star to the throat.

  “I will defend myself if needed,” Jhali said. “I will not goad her.”

  “Don’t you think showing up on her ship will goad her?” Dak asked mildly.

  He’d been on that beach and witnessed that throwing-star attack.

  Jhali shrugged. “We shall find out how petty she is.”

  She stepped up to the railing and faced the pirate ship. Ready to be levitated over?

  Dak gave Yanko a look of warning.

  If Yanko hadn’t already said yes, he would have revoked his invitation. Maybe he should accidentally arrange to leave her behind, saying he couldn’t levitate a mage hunter.

  “Permission to come aboard, good pirate?” Tynlee called up to someone leaning over the railing on the flagship.

  It was Gramon. Yanko sensed that his mother was in a wardroom waiting for them.

  “Yes,” Gramon said, his tone as dry as Pey Lu’s always was. “Though I assure you, I’m a bad pirate, not a good one. There are no good pirates.” Gramon looked at Dak but didn’t address him.

  Yanko believed he knew who Dak was. His mother had made it clear she did. Spying wouldn’t be terribly effective here.

  “No?” Tynlee replied. “You’ve done a good deed this week. I do hope that won’t sully your reputation.”

  “Just don’t let any other pirates know.” Gramon waved for them to come up, then backed out of sight.

  He didn’t lower a rope, so he must have assumed Yanko would use his magic.

  Though he dreaded the meeting, Yanko didn’t want to delay—every hour they dallied was another hour that more Turgonian ships could be sailing to the continent—so he hurried to channel the wind that would lift his team. The physical magic worked fine on Dak and Jhali. It was mental attacks that mage hunters were capable of deflecting.

  Though Turgonian, Gramon didn’t comment or even react when they magically alighted on his deck. If he’d been working at Pey Lu’s side for years, he’d seen all manner of magic.

  Tynlee looked around curiously as the pirate led them across the deck and to steps leading to cabins below. Yanko imagined her taking it all in as fodder for those spy novels she intended to write.

  Gramon had to duck as he entered the wardroom. A beautiful mahogany table that could seat eight or ten rested in the center. Pey Lu stood at the far side, her fists on her hips, her stance saying that she expected trouble. Or maybe simply to be asked for another favor.

  Yanko attempted to keep his mental walls up so he couldn’t be easily read, but half of his companions didn’t have such an ability.

  Pey Lu’s aloof expression turned into an outright scowl as Dak, Tynlee, Arayevo, Lakeo, and Jhali walked in behind Yanko. A spark of fury, indignation, or maybe both arose in her eyes as her gaze locked onto Jhali.

  She pointed at the woman and glanced at Yanko. “Explain.”

  He’d been about to thank Pey Lu for her assistance thus far, but he didn’t want her to throw a fireball at Jhali. Or spring across the table and try to strangle her with her hands.

  “Jhali’s employer is dead,” Yanko said, “and she’s decided to join us.”

  “I have decided to join Yanko,” Jhali said, casting a quick dismissive glance at Lakeo and stepping up to Yanko’s side, as she’d said she would.

  “She promised she wouldn’t attack you today.” Yanko left out the unless-she-had-to-defend-herself part.

  “How magnanimous of her,” Pey Lu said.

  Seconds ticked past as Pey Lu glared at Jhali, and Jhali glared back at her.

  Yanko didn’t know if he should say more to try to deflect the tension or if words might set them off, like dogs poised to spring at each other’s throats.

  Tynlee cleared her throat. “May we be introduced, please, Yanko? I admit to being quite excited to meet the legendary Captain Snake Heart.”

  That diffused the tension better than anything Yanko could have said, mostly because everyone in the room looked at her in surprise. Even Pey Lu. Nobody was excited to meet Snake Heart, especially nobody from Nuria.

  “Yes, Honored Consul,” Yanko said. “Captain Pey Lu, this is Consul Tynlee Blue Heron, most recently working in the Nurian consulate in Turgonia’s Port Morgrant. These are my friends Arayevo and Lakeo from back home. You know the mage hunter, Jhali, and you may remember Dak from, ah—”

  “The time he killed several of my men and attacked my ship in a Turgonian underwater boat?” Pey Lu said.

  “As I recall,” Dak said, not towering at his usual height since, like Gramon, he had to duck in the low-ceilinged room, “those were two separate times.”

  “Yes, you’ve been quite the thorn in my side, Colonel.”

  Dak didn’t react to her insinuation that she knew who he was now.

  “I thought it would be wise to bring all of your favorite people over before asking for a favor,” Yanko said, smiling, though the joke would probably fall flat. He’d been a thorn in Pey Lu’s side, too, right alongside Dak.

  “Another favor?” Pey Lu asked.

  “Told you,” Gramon said.

  “I know, but I’m still in shock that he hasn’t come to thank me and take me up on any of my multiple offers.”

  “I did come to thank you.” Yanko bowed deeply and without sarcasm. “Many of the prisoners we rescued have agreed to help Prince Zirabo reclaim what the Swift Wolves took from them.”

  Dak stirred, and Yanko wondered if he objected to this sharing of information. The gunshots and clangs of weapons drifting across the waves should have made it obvious.

  “Don’t tell me that kid is going to try to plant himself on the dais.” Pey Lu made a sour face.

  “What offers did you make?” Dak asked Pey Lu, ever the intelligence officer, gathering data.

  “Nothing that affects Turgonia,” she said.

  “I doubt that,” Dak grumbled. “If you’re going to talk your son into joining your pirate fleet, the captains of our merchant vessels and warships will want to know about it before he flings krakens into their rigging.”

  “That’s not the most recent offer.” Pey Lu smirked. “Though I haven’t managed to convince him to accept either.” Her gaze shifted to Yanko. “Really, my boy, it’s time to embrace your destiny.”

  Tynlee brought a thoughtful finger to her lips. Dak frowned at Yanko.

  Yanko raised his hands. “I’m not accepting anybody’s offers of anything.”

  He had to fight the urge to shrink back in horror that his mother might tell everyone that she had suggested he attempt to snatch the position of Great Chief for himself. The audacity of such speculation made him shudder. Even if he had the blood right, which he did not, he couldn’t imagine how someone like him would go about raising an army capable of claiming a nation. And who in their right mind would want to lead a nation? In his most audacious moments, he thought he might have the ability to advise a regional chief on bringing the new continent back to life and turning it into an agricultural mecca for his people. Maybe his family could then rebuild their home there, with a place for gardens, hounds, and beehives.

  “Captain Pey Lu,” Yanko said, lowering his hands and bringing his focus back to the moment. “Zirabo wants the new continent for Nuria, and he’s tasked me with claiming it. The Turgonians may already have ships there, either claiming it for themselves or exploring its potential.”

  Yanko glanced at Dak, wondering if he should have brought him along for this meeting. As far as he knew, Dak’s orders had been to find Zirabo. He’d done that. Did he have instructions beyond that?

&n
bsp; Dak didn’t react to the glance. He was observing the room, his face a mask, his head against the ceiling.

  “He—we—are willing to pay you to follow Consul Tynlee’s yacht—” Yanko waved to Tynlee, knowing Zirabo had already arranged for her to transport his small team, “—and posture threateningly at the Turgonians to convince them to leave if necessary.”

  “We don’t posture,” Pey Lu said. “We take action.”

  “Turgonians wouldn’t let pirates drive them off,” Dak rumbled.

  “Further,” Pey Lu said, “I’m still waiting to be paid my two-hundred-and-fifty zekris and that scimitar for the last favor you begged from me.”

  Yanko drew a purse out of his robe and laid it on the table. He unbuckled the sword belt with Sun Dragon’s scimitar on it and rested it, still in its scabbard, next to the purse.

  Pey Lu’s eyebrows drifted upward, as if she hadn’t truly expected him to pay her. Yanko didn’t know if she would take the scimitar—she’d rejected it before—but if she wanted it, he owed it to her.

  Pey Lu tilted her head as she regarded the weapon. She walked around the table toward it.

  Yanko knew it had a strong magical signature, more so than many other Made items that he’d encountered, but he hadn’t been able to make it glow, so he was positive he hadn’t seen its full power. Granted, he hadn’t spent a lot of time studying it. All he knew was that it was strong. He’d used it to destroy the artifact that had maintained the dome that kept the prisoners in.

  As Pey Lu reached for the sword, Jhali shifted slightly, bending her knees in a ready stance. Yanko lifted his hand and looked at her.

  He expected to find belligerence in Jhali’s eyes, a silent promise that she would attack if Pey Lu touched the weapon. But at his glance, she stepped back slightly, as if she’d caught herself. Maybe it had been an automatic reflex rather than a conscious act. It had to be hard for her to stand in the same room with the woman who’d killed her mother. Yanko had struggled to stand in the room with Pey Lu when they’d first met, and he hadn’t known any of her victims personally; he’d only resented her for the dishonor she’d brought to his family.