when he hadn’t done anything wrong. Which wasn’t often, granted. The hardest thing was that everyone on this new crew looked to him, made him feel as enslaved as they had once been. He alone knew how to be free, how to live without constant instruction, rules, chains.
He patted her hand, feeling awkward and stupid. “Estovan is nothing like that. It’s—it’s glorious and chaotic and smelly and vibrant and dangerous and colorful and fucking wonderful.”
He laughed at the look on her face, but at least he’d taken her mind off her misery. “Look, Ilsa, it’s as hard for all them as it is for you, only they have to try to keep a bold front too. You know, be men about it. Holden wants to make you happy, I know he does, but he daren’t show you how fucked up he is. It’s going to take some time, but you’ll figure it all out in the end—who you really are, what you want. You’re going to have to be bold. And with Holden being such a serious moaner, as tied up in knots as that rope over there, you might have to take the lead.”
She looked at him as though he’d just suggested she walk naked over hot coals. “Me, I can’t—I don’t know how.”
Van Gast smiled to himself, thinking just how different Ilsa and Josie were—and seeing perhaps just why Holden had once got his head turned by Josie, who knew what she wanted and when she wanted it, who was freer in the mind than a flock of birds. And why Ilsa was a better bet for him, in the end. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
He rummaged in one of his numerous pockets. “Look, here you are. A few gold sharks. Be enough to buy yourself something pretty, or something you’ve always wanted. I promise you, if you’re happy, then Holden will be happier. Just for once, do something for you.”
She stared down at the money, then her gaze was drawn to Estovan, the city proper just now visible—stuccoed walls blazing in the sunshine, a vast seething humanity seemingly camped on its doorstep, the haze of cooking fire smoke dimming everything, washing the city in charcoal so it looked almost attractive. Almost.
“Van, I heard some of the crew talking about Josie and—”
Van Gast’s heart stuttered, even at the mention of her. “Never mind about Josie, or what the crew say. Gossip worse than fish wives, sailors do. Never mind what anyone says, understand? You’re a rack now, you do what you want, when you want it, and screw everyone else. You know what it is you want?”
Her gaze slid to Holden as he came up the stairs from below, flicked back to Estovan before she settled on Van Gast. “I think so.”
That was better. No tears now, but a hesitant smile, a wondering in her eyes as she considered.
“Good,” he said. “Now you go and get it and don’t let anyone stop you, all right? You can get anything in Estovan, anything at all. Everything’s for sale and that’s enough money for quite a lot, because everything is cheap here. Life, death, Kyr’s mercy, everything.”
“Anything?” Ilsa’s smile widened into brilliant, bringing a scowl from Holden as he approached, but Ilsa hugged the money to herself and stared out at Estovan again.
Chapter Three
Rillen waited in his chamber, looking down over the licensed docks, the tightly controlled area around the palace where he’d lived his tightly controlled life. Sun glinted off the sea in the harbor, struck the well-tended ships of the licensed merchants—fat-bellied ships that wallowed, slender ships made for fast trading of small but precious things, all sorts of ships in between. The gunships that protected the slower traders lay to outside, a fair protection for ships and harbor alike.
The broad avenue beneath Rillen’s window, shaded by lush trees, was filled with merchants and their wives, all agog about the special trade reception Urgaut had announced. A rearrangement of trade, now the Remorians were no longer a force to be reckoned with but a helping power behind Urgaut. New opportunities, new alliances to replace the old. A reception like that was like setting a dead seal in the water and waiting for sharks.
All below him was calm and ordered, thick with chance, rich with potential and not his. He intended to try to use the coming opportunities to rectify this. If he could get Van Gast dead at the same time and blame it all on