"No."
The lethal growl that tore from Ithaca's throat set the glasses in the cabinets rattling, their tinkling echoing ominously through the captain's quarters aboard the Loreley. Gandriel, ever the pinnacle of bravery, took a retreating step behind Celeste. On her right, Anelisse quirked her head questioningly.
Utterly unhelpful.
Celeste didn't even bother to acknowledge them as she propped her elbows on her desk, watching the darkness roiling around the woman.
Ithaca had appeared unexpectedly on deck minutes before, somehow having pinpointed their exact, hidden location deep within Gandriel's ever-present cloud of fog on the eastern seas between Rask and Prythian. She'd scared Eoin half to death when she'd popped into existence right in front of him, demanding an audience with his captain. The terrified young man had complied.
Disgruntled, Celeste had politely informed her childhood friend that perhaps he should have shown her off the edge of the ship instead.
Not that it did much good now.
They certainly didn't have time for the interruption, having just lost the trail of a new shipment, all signs of their movement vanishing the night before. Even Avi's scouts had come up empty-handed that morning, clueless as to how three carrier ships had disappeared into thin air once more. And though Fallon was due back any day, without the Siren to help search, they had once again run out of options.
"You listen here, you little self-serving harpy," Ithaca seethed, her eyes wholly black as her lips curled back in a snarl, "you will give me what I ask or so help me even that unholy matron will not be able to keep you safe—"
Unimpressed and losing patience, Celeste tugged on the invisible bond strung taut between them, sending a single order down it, the odd necklace still looped around the woman's neck glinting. Ithaca immediately blanched, her knees wobbling beneath her as she fought against the order.
Celeste sent the order once again.
Ithaca caved, her legs collapsing beneath her as she crashed to the floor. She howled in fury.
Well, maybe sitting would do her some good.
"Now," Celeste examined the curve of her nails, noting they'd need to be reshaped when she returned to the mainland, if they ever managed to return to the mainland at the rate they were going. "Let's start again, without threats."
"I will threaten you however I please, vile—"
Celeste shot another command down the bond. A choking sound filled the room as Ithaca tried and failed to speak, her velveteen voice now replaced with hoarse squealing. She fell into silence even as the aura around her grew denser, the darkness beginning to leach. If looks could kill Celeste would have been dead a thousand times over.
Behind her, Gandriel chuckled as Anelisse swatted at him.
Her sister had always had a soft spot for Ithaca. Celeste attributed it to her assistance in cultivating Anelisse's newfound skill in the art of explosives and poisons.
"Try again."
The order only intensified Ithaca's hissing, indignance leaching from her as she struggled and failed to rise. Pissed, she dug her nails into the floor beneath her with unnatural strength, splintering the polished hardwood. Celeste blandly noted the woman's rage had twisted her features into a grimace distinctly reminiscent of a toddler throwing a tantrum.
Seeing that her threats could not be voiced Ithaca settled with hissing, "Perhaps they would be unneeded if you had done as I asked from the beginning—"
"You mean handing something personal of hers over? Yeah, no." Gandriel peered over Celeste's shoulder, glaring down his nose at his former handler. "What could you possibly need a piece of Celeste's hair for anyway? Necromancy? Summoning demons? No, thank you."
"Another word from you, you putrid brat, and I will show you the meaning of—" Ithaca gagged, her body convulsing as she fought against the order and failed. "When I get my hands—"
"That doesn't answer the question," Celeste cut in, stopping the woman's tirade as she quirked a single brow. "Why do you need my hair?"
It had been the first thing the woman had demanded upon entering the cabin, forgoing even pleasantries as she held her hand out, clearly expecting Celeste would simply hand it over to her. As though she were foolish enough to give her something that could be used as a weapon against her or control over her.
She'd almost applauded Ithaca's audacity.
"The matter doesn't concern you." Ithaca slammed a fist into the wood beneath her, sending vibrations through the floor as she glared up at Celeste. "Now, if you would so kindly give me what I require and let me up off the accursed ground—"
"No." Celeste rose quickly, her mind already made up, fully intending to banish the woman from the boat indefinitely. There was too much work to be done to waste any time arguing with Ithaca. She pulled her order back, watching as the woman immediately shot upright and nearly tumbled over as the order to sit was released. "Now, show yourself out."
"Excuse me?" She bared her unnaturally straight white teeth.
Celeste shrugged, unfazed, and pointed at the door, "I said, show yourself out."
"I will do no such thing."
She pressed into the bond, sending a sharp order down the tie that sent the woman's legs and mouth moving as another vicious snarl rattled the glassware.
"Wait," she barked, struggling to keep her legs from dragging her unwillingly from the room, her hands gripping at the doorway as she locked eyes with Celeste, "there must be something you want, something I can offer you in exchange—"
An icy breeze brushed across Celeste's cheek, sending her brow rising as she watched Ithaca's features slowly begin to morph in front of her, her shoulders broadening.
"Perhaps there is something . . . else," Ithaca inquired, her voice dropping to a low purr as her eyes crinkled, "I could tempt you with."
Celeste watched as Ithaca's petite frame shimmered and grew, her slim hands broadening as her skin shifted from olive to golden tan, her feminine eyes narrowing into sharp brows shadowing a glint of emerald.
"Holy Mother," Anelisse muttered in shock, standing behind her, mouth agape.
Gandriel hissed his annoyance.
Celeste only cocked her head, admiring the woman's handiwork. She certainly had a taste for the finer things, having taken on perhaps the most handsome male form she'd ever seen. The lovely details of the sharp jaw and high cheekbones, the shadows forming behind the shoulders—
She quirked her lips.
"Sorry, still not interested." She pointed her finger at the door once more, "Get out."
"You conniving little witch," Ithaca seethed in her new deep timbre, digging her nails into the doorway as her body forcibly tried to remove itself, "Is there no pleasing you? What else could you possibly desire?"
"For you to leave." Gandriel grumbled.
Her first mate certainly wasn't wrong.
"To show us how you found us so easily." Anelisse piped in.
The comment had Celeste slowing, her thoughts drifting to the first time she'd met Ithaca and how she'd appeared in Gandriel's living room, tracking them down without any direction. She shifted her gaze to the pile of papers on her desk, on the newly changed trade routes she'd been sifting through in Fallon's absence, their difficulty in tracking-
"Actually," she relaxed the order pushing Ithaca from the room, nearly sending the woman sprawling on the floor again from the force she'd be using to keep herself in place, "there is something."
Something like surprise flicked across Ithaca's features before instantly vanishing, along with her male appearance. Straightening herself, she strode back into the room, features pinched in annoyance.
Celeste gestured to the well-worn map on her desk. "That little tracking trick of yours - can you use it to find missing ships?"
If Ithaca could track the ships, could lend them her mysterious powers for just a short time—they could knock out the slave trade more quickly than their opponents could establish new routes. She was only upset that she hadn't considered the possibility sooner.
Ithaca paused, before launching into chiming laughter, the beautiful sound oddly grating, "Wouldn't you like to know—"
"I would, actually," Celeste continued, unperturbed as she pointed at the map and the freshly sketched routes she'd added that morning. "I need help tracking three cargo ships and I have the feeling you know how to do so."
Gandriel shifted nervously behind her, no doubt fearful of the deal she might strike with the devil who stood before them.
"You would expect me to use my power to complete such a mundane task? Do I look like some civil servant to you?" Ithaca shook her dark curls, looking as though someone had just asked her to clean the gutter. "Choose something else, I won't waste my efforts finding some mortal merchants you've taken issue with."
"Then we most certainly do not have a deal." Celeste eased back into her chair, propping her hands behind her head, eternally at ease as she plucked a single dark strand from her head. "I don't get the ships I need tracked and you don't get the piece of hair," she twirled the long strand between her finger and thumb, "you're so desperate for."
Fury laced across Ithaca's features, her palms curling into fists.
Celeste had won.
"So be it," Ithaca hissed, leaning so close their noses nearly touched. "Speak the terms."
"Celeste-" There was reproach in Gandriel's tone, as though he'd sooner blow Ithaca clean off the ship than let his friend step into the bargain she was about to make. Celeste ignored him.
Bargains, the only goods that Ithaca bartered in. Trading one item or service for another, no handouts or favors, ever. Unless, of course, you were Anelisse.
Fortunately for Celeste, she'd long since mastered the art.
"Very well." She curled the single hair around her finger. "You will track the ships that I require and provide to me, directly, the spoken information of their whereabouts in a timely and truthful fashion. If these conditions are met," she gestured towards the now curled hair, "I will, after careful consideration, provide you with a single item off my person."
"You will provide me with your hair, specifically," Ithaca retorted, inching closer as her eyes flickered to the single hair in Celeste's palm, "and you will do so immediately after my end of the bargain is complete."
Celeste considered, watching as Ithaca offered out a soft hand.
"Celeste, I really recommend we find another way to do this . . . Fallon will be back soon, she can-"
She gripped Ithaca's palm, sealing the bargain. A jolt of power licked through her as a light burning sensation tingled on her wrist, leaving a beautiful dark mark in the shape of a blooming lily.
"Well, it's a deal then." The cruelty that replaced the fury on Ithaca's face would have curdled milk as she released Celeste's hand and straightened, glancing at the flower on her own wrist. "And look, one lovely night lily to represent another."
Gandriel let out a low growl behind her as Anelisse stilled.
Celeste merely leaned back in her chair, once again inspecting her nails. "Don't you have ships to be tracking, Ithaca? They're certainly not going to do it themselves." Dismissed.
The amused cruelty flickered as Ithaca's face soured, her arms crossing over her chest.
"Well, since you've managed to slither your way into another bargain," Gandriel grumbled, "should we offer you a map or let you find your own means of drowning in the ocean and ridding us of your awful presence?"
"Information isn't required, my dear Gandriel." Ithaca glanced over a slender shoulder toward the doorway, dark magic beginning to seep from her once again. "This will be simple. And you," she focused her gaze on Celeste once more, "I will return to collect my price soon enough, do not forget."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"I hope she drowns on the sea front and doesn't return," Gandriel muttered, tailing after Celeste as she ascended to the deck of the ship, taking the dark steps one at a time. "What in the Mother's name were you thinking, bartering with her? Nothing good can come of it."
"For once I'm inclined to agree with Gandriel," Anelisse echoed from the other side as she reached the top stair, "perhaps you should have tried to trade something else for her help, or maybe not asked it all."
"I wouldn't worry too much," Celeste stepped out onto the deck into the chill air, the winter sun high above them. The solstice was fast approaching, shortening the daylength and their hunting light considerably. Her milling crew sent her questioning looks, no doubt wondering where her mysterious visitor had disappeared to.
Something she didn't have the time to discuss if the familiar dark ship anchored next to the Loreley was any indication. Surprisingly, it looked like the Siren had returned on time, for once. She wondered how Fallon had fared with Lucien's - she shuddered at the name - allies in the north.
"We'll deal with whatever comes of it." She straightened her shirt as she strode past the mast towards the gangplank, looking for that familiar purple hat and bright plume.
"She's going to try and eat your soul, I swear it." Gandriel shuffled quickly behind her, his scent full of worry. "Then I'm going to be left to do this alone and we all know how spectacularly that will play out."
"Fallon would never give you so much responsibility so I wouldn't worry." Anelisse's footsteps were light clicks compared to Gandriel's stomping. "Besides, I doubt Ithaca will eat her soul, she's likely just trying to break the control Celeste has over her."
"And then eat all our souls after-"
Celeste's sister clicked her tongue. "Or perhaps she just wants another bedfellow, especially given that little display with the handsome man with the dark blue eyes—"
"Man?" Her first mate stopped short behind her. "I didn't see a man. I saw a buxom redhead with beautiful curls."
Celeste stopped and turned, her brow wrinkling. "I saw a male with green eyes . . ." They all shared a concerned look, confusion saturating Celeste's mind. She certainly hadn't seen what the others were describing.
"Perhaps it's her magic," Anelisse supplied, wrapping a strand of her silvery hair around her finger. "Maybe she was appealing to each of our own tastes." She cast a playful look at Gandriel. "Why didn't you tell me you prefer redheads?"
A blush raced up the male's cheeks as he began to flounder. "Anelisse, mi amor, you know there's not another woman for me . . ." He stopped his wooing, pieces clicking together in his mind. "Wait a minute, you said you saw blue eyes!"
His nose scrunched up as Anelisse burst into peals of silvery laughter. Stepping close, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek that had Celeste turning on her heel. "Don't be so put out, I like green too."
The sound that came out of Gandriel's throat sounded suspiciously like a purr and had Celeste walking more quickly towards the gangplank leaving the couple to their wooing. She was more eager to see her fellow captain and get a report than to watch the two lovebirds behind her swoon.
Koda stood at the gangplank's edge talking animatedly to Eoin, his golden locks loose about his narrow shoulders. Upon seeing Celeste he threw up a hand in greeting, "Afternoon, Captain!"
"Afternoon," she greeted in return, noting how the pale winter sun made the faint freckles on his cheeks more prominent. "How was the voyage?" They'd been gone for nearly a month on their task, having transported nearly all of the children to lands in the north.
"Good, m'lady," Koda tapped his boots on the deck, a nervous habit she'd noted he's always possessed, "The winds were ideal and we made excellent time, and the children were delivered safely as well."
Warmth spread in Celeste's chest at the news. She imagined Fallon was beyond pleased with the outcome, remembering how distant her fellow captain had become when discovering the children as the cargo of their last intercepted shipment.
Thinking of the woman, she glanced around listening for that telltale cackle and the jauntily tap of heeled boots. "Where is Fallon?"
The smile on Koda's face faltered as he nervously began to rub at his neck. "Errr, Captain's in her chambers. She's been a tad . . . on edge since we left port."
"On edge?" The closest thing to an edge that Celeste had seen Fallon on was a sexual one.
"I'd suggest you go see her yourself," the male gestured towards the captain's quarters, "she's been odd since we left, won't even talk to either of her fathers. She's just been locked up in her room muttering to herself at all hours of the night." Koda's gaze shifted side to side before he leant forward and whispered, "We think it might have something to do with Lord Lucien."
The name sent a jolt through her even as she kept her expression neutral, "What do you mean?" A chill ran up her spine as she scanned the deck, she'd forgotten the red-haired lord had accompanied them on this trip. "Is he here?"
Koda shook his head. "No . . . as I said, I think it's best you talk to her."
Sensing he'd be no further help she quickly sidestepped the young sailor and walked to the captain's quarters, the milling crew waving their greetings. She barely made the effort to respond, her mind focused on what exactly had dampened her friend's mood.
Not even bothering to knock, she shoved the door open to Fallon's room, stepping into the dimly lit interior. She found said captain easily enough, slumped behind her desk with a bottle of wine in one hand and her face planted into an unrolled map. Clearing her throat, Celeste watched as Fallon nearly jumped from her chair, eyes wide as she took her in, as though she'd caught sight of a ghost.
Well, something was certainly wrong.
Closing the door behind her, she didn't even bother with the pleasantries. "Well? How did it go?"
Fallon sat still for a few moments staring before she slowly straightened herself, raking her fingers through her hair, the stale scent of her wine saturating the room. "Bad."
Celeste blinked. "What do you mean 'bad'?"
Fallon took a swig from her bottle, auburn waves askew as she repeated the word again. "Bad."
"Are the children all right?" Adrenaline picked up Celeste's veins as the possibility that something had gone wrong came to mind, yet Koda had said they'd made it safely- "What happened?"
"Bad," Fallon repeated again, taking another longer swig from her bottle before standing up-
"Do you not have pants on?" Celeste couldn't hide the surprise in her voice, noting the pale legs appearing from beneath her long white shirt. Indeed, her fellow captain appeared to be only wearing her underthings.
"It was bad." She slammed her hand into the desk for emphasis. "Bad, bad, bad." Striding from behind the desk she closed the distance between herself and Celeste quickly, looking at her with a discerning eye that made Celeste's skin crawl. What, exactly, had happened?
"What are you-"
"I'm looking, be quiet." She walked around Celeste, her brow furrowing further as she studied her thoroughly before a loud resounding curse slipped past her lips. "Fuck. Oh, by the Mother I was right."
"Fallon," a pit had begun to form in Celeste's stomach even as confusion held her mind, "What is going on?"
She let out a crazed laugh that had goosebumps flecking up her arms.
"Oh, nothing! Just a little misunderstanding," Fallon shrugged, the wine bottle in her hand sloshing dangerously. "A little banquet and family dinner I WAS NOT planning to attend—"
Family dinner?
"Fallon."
"When," she took another long swig from the wine bottle, draining it, "pray tell, were you planning on telling me YOU'RE THE HEIR TO NIGHT COURT?!"
The world dropped out from beneath Celeste as the words slammed into her. A secret that no one but Gandriel and her sister knew, having carefully kept that specific detail to herself even as she'd given Fallon the basics of her past—how did she know the truth? Had she somehow found out on her trip to the north-
Pain spliced through her head.
Gripping her temple she hissed, "I didn't think it was relevant. How do you know? How did you find out?" Who else had found out?
"Oh I don't know, maybe when I laid eyes on your murderous family as they casually ate blood-colored soup at their posh little banquet right after I dropped off over a HUNDRED children in their evil clutches—"
"Night Court?" By the Mother, that's what she'd had meant by allies in the north, how had she not put two and two together? "You took the children to NIGHT COURT?!"
"How was I supposed to know?!" Fallon barked in response, dropping the now empty bottle of wine onto the floor. "You weren't exactly forthcoming with the notion that Mommy and Daddy dearest were the ones who took your wings when they tried to murder you years ago—"
"How do you know about that?" Another lance of pain, this one sharp enough that it brought tears to her eyes. "Who told you, Fallon? Was it Lucien?" She should have never left Vanica, should have never put herself in a position where she could be discovered—
"I figured it out when your bloody father waltzed up to me and gave me the same knowing grin you constantly wear, followed by your terrifying mother in that horrifying clean white gown. Did you know they bury the bodies of their enemies in the garden? To fertilize their ridiculous rose bushes—"
Fallon had been right. 'Bad' was the only way to describe what she was hearing.
"What did you tell them?" Celeste turned, her heart hammering in her chest, "What did you say—?"
"Absolutely nothing!" the other woman shot back, stilling the racing thoughts in Celeste's head. Fallon dug the heels of her hands into her hips, rubbing at her face. "I said absolutely nothing. I . . . might have made a bit of a scene. I left Lucien and came back as quickly as I could. I told them nothing."
"You're certain," Celeste reached for her friend's shoulders, her hands shaking as she looked the female in the eye, searching for the answer. "You're absolutely sure they learned nothing."
"As far as they're concerned you're as dead as doornail." Fallon let out a hissing breath, "I made sure of that. But a little warning would have been nice-"
Fallon had kept her secret, the notion so startling that Celeste felt her knees wobble. Her friend had made sure to keep her safe, but Lucien—
"What about Lucien?" What if he suspected, and with Fallon leaving so abruptly—
"I . . . took care of it," Fallon flinched, looking off to the side as regret filtered over her face. "He won't be a problem anymore. But you," she shoved a finger into Celeste's chest, hazel eyes blazing, "you owe me a dick. I lost a really good one to keep your ass safe and I'm holding you personally responsible for finding me another—"
A startled cough at the doorway had them both freezing where they stood. Sharing a startled look Celeste yanked the door open, fearful to find who'd borne witness to their little screaming match. To her relief she found Vaerek and Avi standing on the other side, matching schooled expressions of neutrality on their faces.
They'd been eavesdropping.
"Hello! We absolutely were not listen—" Cutting Avi off mid-sentence, Celeste grabbed them both by the fronts of their shirts and dragged them into the room, slamming the door loudly behind them.
"Not another word." She groaned. It seemed her bargain with Ithaca wouldn't be the only one she'd be making that day.