anticipate. You think the people here don’t talk about you and your crew?” She pointed with her chin to
the rest of the room, carrying on in their loud manner. “About what you do out there on the open water?”
Meliz leaned forward so quickly Corayne nearly fell from her seat.
“We’re criminals, yes,” the captain hissed. “We move around crown laws. We transport what others
won’t or can’t. That’s what smuggling is. There’s a danger to it. You’ve known that your entire life.” The
explanation was expected too, another lie of Meliz an-Amarat. “My operation is dangerous, that’s true,”
the woman pushed on. “I’m at risk every time we set sail; so is every person in this room. And I will not
risk you with the rest of us.”
“The Jydi recruits. They survived, didn’t they?” Corayne asked, her tone flat and detached. At the bar, the
pale-skinned twins looked as jumpy as rabbits in a snare.
Meliz scowled. “They joined up in Gidastern. Fled some godsforsaken clan war.”
More lies. She fixed her mother with a dark stare, hoping to see through her. Hoping Meliz knew she was
seen through.
“They survived whatever ship you found in the Watchful Sea, whatever ship you attacked, emptied, and
sank,” she said.
“For once that isn’t true,” Meliz snapped back, near to spitting. “You with all your charts and your lists.
That doesn’t mean you know what the world is really like. The Jydi aren’t raiding. Something is wrong in
the Watchful. Those boys were running, and I gave them a place to go.”
LIES, Corayne thought, feeling each one like a knife.
“You are a smuggler,” she answered, banging her hand on the table. “You’ve broken the laws of every
kingdom from here to Rhashira’s Mouth. And you are a pirate, Captain an-Amarat. You are feared across
the Ward for what you do to the ships you hunt and devour.” Corayne pushed forward so that they were
nearly nose to nose over the table. Meliz’s mask was gone, her easy grin abandoned. “Don’t bother with
shame. I know what you are, Mother, what you have to be. I’ve known for a long time. And I’ve been part
of this, whether you believe it or not, all my life.”
Across the seden, a glass shattered, followed by a roar of laughter. Neither mother nor daughter
flinched. A canyon yawned between them, filled only with silence and longing.
“I need this.” Corayne’s voice broke, bowed by the weight of desperation. “I need to leave. I can’t stay
here any longer. It feels like the world is growing over me.” She reached for her mother’s hands, but
Meliz pulled her fingers away. “It’s like being buried alive, Mama.”
The captain stood, her wine in hand. Her stillness was unfamiliar. And foreboding. Calm waters before a
storm. Corayne steeled herself, preparing for more lies and excuses.
The captain did not bother with either.
“My answer will always be no.”
Be reasonable, Corayne chided herself, even as she jumped out of her chair, fists clenched. The pirate
captain didn’t move, her stare unbroken and unamused.
Despair bubbled beneath Corayne’s skin. She felt like a crashing wave, rolling over with foam as she
broke upon the shore. Be reasonable, she thought again, though the voice was smaller, more distant.
She dug her nails into her palms, using the sting to stay anchored.
“You don’t get to make my decisions for me,” she said with great restraint. “I’m not asking for
permission. If you won’t take me on, I’ll find a captain who will. Who sees my value.”
“You will do no such thing.” Meliz shattered her wineglass across the floor. Her eyes lit from within,
threatening to burn the world down. She took her daughter by the collar, and not gently. The crew took
little notice.
“Look around,” she snarled in her ear.
Corayne kept still, unable to move, shocked by her mother.
“This is my crew. They’re killers, every single one of them. Look at us, Corayne.”
Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she did as told.
The crew of the Tempestborn were a family, of sorts. Alike in their scarred hands, sun-damaged skin,
bleached hair, corded muscles. Similar as brother to sister, despite their varying origins. They drank and
fought and schemed as one, beneath a single flag, united before the mast and her mother’s command.
Corayne saw them as she’d always known them to be: loud, drunk, loyal. But the warning echoed. They’
re killers, every single one of them.
Nothing changed, and yet nothing was the same as before.
Her vision swam, and she saw them as
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