“I plan to go back home and finish the job I started,” Destin said. “That is the only way to end this.”
“You mean to kill the general.”
“Yes.”
Understanding kindled in the pirate’s green eyes. “Frances knows. That’s what the fight on the quay was all about.”
“What she doesn’t understand is that it’s my fault he’s still alive.” Destin’s voice rose. “I should have killed the bastard a long time ago. Every person he kills, every life he ruins, every mage he collars—it’s on me.” He wiped his hands on his clothes, but he still felt as if they were covered in blood.
“Maybe your mother is right,” Evan said. “Maybe you’re worth more alive than the general is dead.”
With that, the darkness inside Destin came boiling up like the molten rock that spewed from fissures in the north. Before he knew what was happening, he’d gripped Evan’s shirtfront and slammed him down on his back on the deck. “You’re wrong!” he roared, glaring down at him. “I’m a monster like my father, and the only thing I’m good for is hunting other monsters!”
“No,” Evan said. “You are not a monster. Whoever told you that was wrong.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done.” You don’t know how many I’ve killed, to survive to this point.
“I don’t care what you’ve done. I’m more interested in what you’re going to do.” The pirate gripped Destin’s coat, arced his body up, and kissed him firmly on the lips.
It was sweet and potent as Southern Islands rum. And like a name day drunk, Destin lost his head. He answered the kiss hungrily, pressing the pirate all the way to the deck. Then he launched himself backward, landing on his ass on the planking, heart pounding, breathing hard.
The pirate was actually laughing at him. “Ah, Soldier,” he said, sitting up. “I have found your vulnerability. Love is the weapon you cannot counter. It leaves you helpless.”
Destin glared at him. “It’s not love,” he said. “It’s lust, and desire, and—”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Evan cocked his head, waiting.
Destin said nothing. His cheeks were flaming, he could tell.
Evan came up on his knees, hands resting on his thighs, like a faerie prince asking him a riddle. “Say it with me now, Destin: I am not a monster.”
“No,” Destin said. But the fortress of his anger was crumbling, allowing the humor of the situation to seep in.
“Say it,” Evan said, in a low, seductive voice, “and I promise, I’ll whisper monster in your ear whenever you want.”
Destin couldn’t help it. He began to laugh.
“Now say it.”
Destin rolled his eyes. “I am not a monster,” he said, though he knew it was a lie.
“Again.”
“I am not a monster.” He raised his hand to forestall further demands. “That’s all you’re getting, so leave off.”
“Acceptable,” Evan said, with grudging approval. “But you’re going to need some more practice.” He took Destin’s hands in his own strong, callused ones. “I would like to be your friend as well as your business partner,” he said. “I would like to be somebody you can trust. I would like you to be someone I can trust. Do you think that’s possible?”
Destin stared at the pirate, his mind swarming with questions he couldn’t ask. How had this pirate survived a violent, brutal childhood and emerged with this generosity of spirit, this willingness to take a chance on someone like him? What is your secret? What are you made of?
Destin wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Evan Strangward that the last thing he should do is trust Destin Karn. It will get you killed, Pirate. It will break your heart.
But, in the end, he found that he couldn’t say no to hope.
“I hope so,” he said. “I really hope so.”
Evan smiled. “Now. If you insist on going back to the wetlands, you’re going to need a pilot. You can’t sail this ship on your own. So. We’ll sail there together. With me at the helm, it will be a quick journey there, and back again.”
11THE HANDYMAN
All the way back north, Evan refused to argue when Destin offered one reason after another as to why it was a bad idea for Evan to come along to the wetlands. Evan was busy grappling with the problem of finding a reliable crew. After three days on the water, he’d determined that it would require at least five hands for a blue-water crossing; at least three times that to crew Destiny as a privateer.
The challenge would be to find a crew that couldn’t be bought off. The knowledge that the empress was still actively hunting him changed everything. He did not relish the notion of being delivered to Celesgarde in his own ship. He wasn’t so concerned about the crossing to Baston Bay. It would be there and back, with little opportunity for harborside gossip. But when he began sailing the Desert Coast, and raiding in the wetlands, it would be only a matter of time before he came to the empress’s attention, especially if he became known as a stormcaster.
He still hoped that Destin might return to Carthis with him after accomplishing his mission in Arden. Destin’s nuanced magery might offer a way to ensure a loyal crew. Together, he and Destin could meet any challenge, stand against any enemy.
He tried not to think of the possibility that their mission might fail. If they couldn’t defeat a wetland general, what chance would they have against the empress?
More importantly, the cottage in Tarvos had been closer to a home than anything Evan had experienced before, and Destin and Frances had become a surrogate family. An ember of hope still burned inside him—the hope that they could look forward to a future together.
When Destiny sailed back into the harbor at Tarvos, the sun was setting on their third day. On the way in, they passed an unfamiliar three-masted
