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“Rare ocean jewel?” he repeated.
Gods. He’d been wrong about Ferrante’s prediction. Had the old man been referring to the bloody siren, not the Amulet of Delphine?
If the siren obeyed Jarin’s command and killed Artus, she’d be safe from the captain’s scheming. But would a siren obey Jarin? Especially if Artus went down there with the intent to take her ashore.
Jarin shared a grave look with Berolt.
They should’ve known Lovel would go straight to the captain to stir trouble and curry favor. Perhaps Artus had even let Jarin do the scuttle just to get rid of him. There was something bigger going on than Jarin understood. He wished for the hundredth time that the damn Seer would be specific, for once. Jarin swore the old man got off on causing confusion and mayhem.
Berolt rubbed his calloused hands together. “What do you want to do, boss?”
The blue and white water surged within the mouth of the cave, stalactites hanging from the roof like teeth. Swimming the underwater caverns would be the fastest way to get to her. His mother always warned him to never dispel the murmurings of a Seer, no matter how infuriating. And his mother, for all her faults, was seldom wrong about the mystical arts. Jarin needed that damn siren back. Or at least, to keep her out of Artus’s hands.
He gave orders to Berolt. “Take Drue in the rowboat, like we planned. I’ll meet you at the docks with the siren after I find her. Ferrante said she’ll decide the destiny of the clan, so I want her with us, not Artus. Nor in Madame Quaan’s seedy den, because who knows where she’d end up. In the meantime, get ready. If Artus survives the day, we mutiny tonight.”
The commander climbed onto the bow of the ship and dove headfirst into the churning water.
CHAPTER 7
Riella stepped onto the gangway of the Pandora, blinking in the bright sunshine. Ships lined the bustling docks as far as the eye could see in both directions.
Beyond the docks loomed Klatos. She’d seen the hilly capital of Zermes kingdom from a distance, of course, where it appeared otherworldly and enchanting. Up close, the cityscape was imposing. The sheer density of the buildings was difficult for Riella to comprehend. How was it possible for humans to live all stacked on top of each other?
“Welcome to Klatos,” said Artus, behind her. “Let’s get a move on. I’ve got a lot to do before we set sail again.”
Riella walked the gangway, holding the railing for support. The dock was crowded with sailors, merchants, and people in raggedy clothing begging for coin. Seagulls flocked to the area, diving for scraps of food. The scent of grilled squid mingling with the fresh smell of the ocean made Riella want to gag.
A general hush went over the dock when Artus and Riella stepped off the Pandora. The stares of so many humans made her want to turn and dive straight into the water. If only she could have done it and not drowned.
“Dark Tide Clan,” someone murmured as they passed.
The captain ignored the attention, walking ahead of Riella toward the city fringe. Fletch stayed behind her, lumbering along in silence. The docks opened onto a street paved with alarmingly uneven cobblestones. She hesitated, unsure if she was ready to negotiate such terrain.
Artus hooked his thumbs into his belt. “Fletch can carry you, if you like?” he suggested with a wink.
“No,” she replied sharply. “I can walk.”
“Suit yourself.” The captain continued onto the road.
Riella was about to follow, afraid of getting lost in the crowd, when a very tall man stepped in front of her, blocking her path. He glared down at her with cold eyes and a set jaw. He had a shaved head and wore rags.
“Move,” she said to him. “You’re standing too close to me. I don’t like it.”
His only response was to take a step nearer. She sized him up. Even in her weakened form, she was strong enough to throw this man.
Noticing Riella was no longer behind him, Artus circled back. “Ah, this is Tregor. Old shipmate of mine. No longer sails though, does he?”
Tregor shifted his gaze to the captain and grunted.
Artus made some kind of signal with his hand, then addressed Riella in a cheery voice. “He’s deaf, you see. Can’t hear a thing you say. These days, he begs on the docks to get by.” The captain’s eyes flashed with mischief. “Veteran of war, he is.”
She exhaled in realization. Tregor turned his cold focus back to her, his sun-scabbed hands balling into fists. He’d been deafened by Sirensong.
Artus reached into his pocket and pulled out a copper coin. With his thumb, he flicked it at Tregor, who made no move to catch it. The coin clattered to the walkway, while the deaf man continued to glare at Riella.
“Siren, Fletch, let’s go,” said Artus over his shoulder, already climbing the cobblestoned hill.
Her heart thudding with a complicated mix of emotions, she sidestepped Tregor and followed the captain. It took a lot of concentration to keep up with him while navigating the cobblestones. Pausing at a rise, she looked back.
