gods, you smugglers get younger every year,” he laughs.
Like Lyrisa, I say nothing. It incenses him.
He takes a step into the water. No, not into. Onto. He climbs the river like stairs, a new burst of current rising to meet him as he ascends to stand right in front of me. Eye to eye.
“I’m speaking to you, boy,” he sneers, slapping me across the face without much strength. It isn’t meant to hurt me, but humiliate me. I know that. My cheeks burn.
Behind me, I can hear the crew jostle and move, reaching for their weapons. Orrian’s pack does the same, moving farther into the water. Just as Lyrisa guessed, he’s the only nymph in the bunch.
At the rail, Lyrisa tightens. “Orrian,” she warns.
It only feeds his anger, as well as his amusement. He slaps me again. “Since when do you care about Red rats, Lyri?” The horrible prince sneers at her. “Such a stupid girl, thinking you could outrun me. Outrun Kirsa and her bitches,” he adds, laughing toward the hounds on the bank. The Silver woman ejects something between a giggle and a bark, her hounds reacting in kind.
Then Orrian raises his hand for a third time and Lyrisa moves, lightning fast, her hand grabbing his wrist. The threat is plain as day. She could tear his entire arm off if she wanted. “Pick on someone your own size,” she spits in disgust.
Orrian sneers but doesn’t move. He could subdue her with the river, but not before inflicting terrible pain on himself. I was right. He’s a coward through and through.
They stare at each other with such hatred I fear it might set the boat aflame.
Good.
“Now that we’re all acquainted . . . ,” I sigh, raising my pistol. In the shallows, Orrian’s nobles tense, ready to spring. Until I put the gun to Lyrisa’s temple, cold metal against skin. “Let’s get down to bargaining, shall we?”
For a moment, all is still. Lyrisa’s face drains of color; her eyes flash to mine, wide and afraid, her lips moving without sound. And Orrian brays a laugh, drenching us both with spittle. Lyrisa doesn’t loosen her grip, but she slackens in shock, staring at me with such pain and accusation I nearly falter.
“Ha-ha!” the prince howls, still standing upon his watery step. “What a show this has been. Oh, bravo, rat—bravo!” Then he looks over his shoulder, to his friends cackling and laughing as loudly as he is. “Did you hear that? Lyri probably paid this rat too, and now he’s trying to sell her back to me! You’re a smart one, I’ll give you that,” he adds, swinging back to me with a wagging finger.
“I’m a survivor,” I tell him, and he laughs again.
“Then tell me, survivor,” he sneers, “why don’t I just take her right now, flood your wretched excuse for a boat, and leave you drowning behind me?”
I blink at him like the answer is so obvious. “Because I’ll kill her. There are no magnetrons with you, and a bullet moves pretty quickly at this range.” Then I glance at his wrist and Lyrisa’s fingers still tight on his skin. “Pretty sure she might take your hand with her too.”
He bares his teeth, an animal denied an easy kill. With a will, he steps up and over the rail, wet boots slamming against my deck. Lyrisa is forced to step back, me moving with her, her back square against my chest. But she never loosens her grip.
“Let me go, Lyri,” he hisses into her face.
Her grip only tightens, and a sheen of sweat coats his brow. She’s hurting him, just enough to remind him of what a precipice he stands upon. Behind him, his nobles move farther into the water, crawling up the sides of the keel to jump onto the deck. They outnumber us almost two to one, odds no Silver needs against Reds. Riette and Gill keep their gun sights on two, but they’re terrified, barrels trembling.
Lyrisa doesn’t break, even with Orrian standing over her and my gun jammed against her skull. She’s caught and caged, and still refusing to yield.
Behind me, the crew moves as we discussed. Toward the cargo hold, the trapdoor below propped ajar by Big Ean’s boot.
“Lyrisa,” Orrian says, his voice changing so quickly it shocks me. Now his words are honeyed, and he says her name with loving reverence. Like the princess, he slips behind a mask too easily. It frightens me. “Let’s put this behind us, my dear. It’s