Eris frowned. That was not what she’d expected her to say. “Killed who?”
“Kor. Rain. Lila.” Safire’s hands fisted at her sides, as if she were only just now considering the words she was saying. “She executed all of them.”
It didn’t sink in at first. The idea of Kor and the others being dead, when they’d been alive just yesterday . . . she couldn’t make sense of it. And then, when it did make sense, Eris didn’t know how to feel. She hated Kor, that was certain. She’d stabbed him and set his ship ablaze, after all. But she’d done those things because she was angry and tired of being abused; not because she’d wanted to kill him. If she’d wanted to kill Kor, she would have locked him inside that burning room.
Eris didn’t want him dead. Nor any of the others.
“Are you sure?”
Safire turned away, looking out over the balustrade, into the mist-cloaked city. “I didn’t see it with my own eyes,” she said, hugging herself. “But it’s what she told me: Pirates don’t get trials.”
Eris watched her, unsure of what to say. She wasn’t surprised by this. But Safire clearly was.
“Why are you here?” Safire whispered, her voice sounding small.
Eris stepped up to the balustrade. “I know what Jemsin wants your cousin for.”
Safire turned, her blue eyes hard as jewels. “And?”
Tides, this would be so much easier if you weren’t so pretty. Eris shoved the thought away, needing to focus. She was deep in enemy territory right now. She needed to keep her head about her.
“The empress made him a deal: she’ll give him free rein over her territorial waters if he delivers Asha to her.”
Safire’s dark brows knit in a skeptical frown. “You have proof of this?”
“Not . . . exactly.” Eris looked down to her stolen boots. “No.”
“So I’m supposed to take you at your word.”
“Yes?”
“It doesn’t make any sense.” Safire murmured, staring out into the mist. “What does she want my cousin for?”
“I have no idea. But if she’s making deals with pirates in order to obtain her, my guess is: nothing good.”
Safire studied Eris for several heartbeats. “Does this mean you won’t hunt Asha down?”
Eris glanced up. “What?”
“If the empress wants my cousin,” Safire said, crossing her arms tightly against her chest, “and you believe the empress is a monster, then it should follow that you’ve decided not to uphold your bargain with Jemsin.”
Eris stepped closer, keeping her voice low. “If I don’t deliver your precious cousin to Jemsin, he’ll hand me over to that monster instead.” Eris shook her head. “Don’t you understand? Leandra won’t show me any more leniency than she showed Kor. If she doesn’t execute me . . .” She touched the spindle tucked into her stolen belt, suddenly thinking of Day. Of the blade driven through his chest. “She’ll make me wish she had.”
“I see,” said Safire stiffly. “So you came here to say that a villain wants my cousin, for reasons unknown to you, but you think those reasons sinister enough to warrant warning me.” Safire’s eyes were like bright flames as they bore into Eris. “But it’s not going to stop you from hunting Asha down like prey and delivering her to that same villain.” Her voice was rising now. The air seemed to grow hot with her anger. “Did I get that right?”
Eris stared at her. “Did you not hear what I said? If I don’t do what Jemsin wants, I’m as good as dead.”
Safire’s mouth curled in disgust. “Maybe you deserve to be.”
Eris stepped back, stung.
“You’re a criminal, Eris. A thief. A pirate. A murderer.” Her voice was hardening. Where before there had been hesitation, there was now resolve. “The world needs to be protected from people like you.”
Eris stared at her. “I never murdered anyone.”
“So you say.” Safire lifted her chin, eyes flashing. “Where’s your proof?”
What hurt the most wasn’t that Safire didn’t believe Eris. It was that she didn’t care what happened to her.
Of course she doesn’t care, thought Eris, setting Safire’s stolen knife down on the balustrade before turning to leave.
No one had cared what happened to Eris. Because she didn’t matter.
Twenty-Eight
Safire picked up her knife from where it rested on the cold, hard marble. Normally she could see a clear path and take it with decisive action. But ever since she’d met the thief known as the Death Dancer, the path had disappeared and she was stumbling through the murk.
No more.
Safire knew that to sound the alarm—alerting every soldier in the ballroom to Eris’s presence—was to bring a death sentence down on her.
She also knew that to not sound the alarm was to let a dangerous criminal go free—one who cared more for her own hide than the lives of others.
When Dax promoted her to commandant, Safire took a vow to bring order where there was chaos. To protect innocents from those who wished to do them harm. She was a soldier, first and foremost, and her soldier instincts told her to detain Eris. To stop her from walking away and call for the Lumina soldiers in the ballroom.
So that’s exactly what she did.
Safire turned to find Eris now thrusting aside the curtain, about to step back inside. “The enemy of the Skyweaver is here!” Safire shouted, pointing her knife at the girl in a stolen Lumina uniform. “Arrest her!”
Silence fell over the grand ballroom. Eris froze in place as several soldiers turned toward them, the sound of their blades ringing free of their sheaths.
“If you so much as reach for that spindle in your belt,” whispered Safire, stepping close enough to smell the sea on Eris’s skin, “I won’t hesitate to put this knife in your back.”
“You’ve already put a knife in my back,” said Eris, keeping her gaze on the Lumina—swarming now, running for the balcony they stood on. “What’s one more?”
She let go of the curtain and stepped backward, closer to Safire and the balustrade, as if to put space between her and the enemies coming for her. But there was no escape. Nowhere for her to go.
Raif arrived well ahead of the others, his sword drawn, his mouth curling in a vicious scowl as he pushed back the curtain. He pointed his blade at Eris, his eyes cold and hard as she stepped slowly forward. “Palms up, fiend,” he barked. “Move away from the commandant.”
Several more Lumina arrived, halting behind Raif.
“Lock the doors!” he shouted as they all drew their swords. “The fugitive is on the balcony!”
But Eris couldn’t be confined by things like doors and locks.
She was the Death Dancer.
As the room beyond them exploded in panicked murmurs and shouts, Safire fixed her gaze on the spindle at Eris’s hip, keeping her knife trained on her. The moment Eris reached for it, Safire would have no choice but to . . .
“Maybe it’s time you took a good, hard look at your allies,” said Eris. She looked up, her gaze catching Safire’s. “Are they heroes or villains? And what does that make you?”