Tor leaned back on the couch, and the assassin laughed. She smacked her lips together, resting her chin on her hand. “It’s lonely though,” she said wistfully. “Hard having friends, in my line of work, can make things…complicated. Especially when you have an enemy, and they try to use your loved ones as bait.” She shook her head. “Can get quite messy.” She rubbed her palms together, and Tor saw that she had an extremely long lifeline, a fact that must have put her at ease in her profession. “Anyway. Should we discuss the bounty on your heads?”
Tor froze. Had they walked directly into a lion’s den? Was she just as bad as the man with the fire-brimmed hat?
Violet raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I’m not trying to collect it,” she said, lowering her head. “I suppose I never made that clear.” She tapped at her bottom lip. “All of Galaway has been looking for you. Which means you and I might just be on the same side.”
Tor swallowed. The Calavera captain, the spectral, and the traitor must really have wanted them dead if they had gone so far as to put a bounty on their heads.
“And what side is that?” Tor asked.
Violet frowned. “Spectrals have been in and out of this city more times in the last month than the last ten years. They’re planning something, and I want to stop it.”
Engle looked suspicious. “Why?”
“I have my reasons, sightseer,” she said, spotting his emblem. “On one assignment, I lived on a ship among pirates. And heard plenty about the Calavera. That captain must be stopped. With the pearl, he would ruin all that is good on Emblem Island. Including all of the places I’ve made my home.” She swallowed. “But, more importantly, an enemy of the spectrals is a friend of mine.”
Captain Forecastle said, “Thank ye for opening yer door to us.”
Violet whipped to look at Melda and said, “Don’t you know it’s impolite to stare?”
She reddened. “It’s just…that marking, on your wrist.”
Tor saw it. A band of silver, like a smear of melted moonlight. He had seen some just like it before.
She grinned. “I trained with the giantesses, until adulthood,” she said. “This is just one of the bands I earned there.”
Melda brightened.
Engle rolled his eyes. “Here we go…”
“We visited them, quite recently! Do you know Valentina?”
Violet nodded. “Of course! She’s a good friend.”
“She taught me to use a sword! Just for a few minutes, but I was very surprised by its weight…”
Melda continued to speak to Violet about the giantesses, and Tor found another marking on the assassin. This one, an emblem. He could have thought of a dozen different abilities that would best serve a killer, but this was certainly not one of them.
“You’re an aniboca,” he said, interrupting one of Melda’s many stories. Melda glared at him. “You can talk to animals.”
Vesper raised an eyebrow. “Is that useful in your…profession?”
Violet swept her long hair back in a single motion. “Well, it helped me find you lot, didn’t it?”
Tor frowned. “It did?”
Violet whistled, and a small bird came flying through the house. A blue and gray lark. It landed on her shoulder. “She told me Crowmus was on the prowl. He’s the one with the fire on his hat.” She rolled her brown eyes. “It looks ridiculous, doesn’t it?”
“So they’re your spies?” Vesper asked.
“Much more than that. But, sure—they’re my eyes and ears in this city and beyond,” she winked at them. “Now, enough shoptalk. Is anyone hungry?”
Tor hadn’t eaten since before he had died, he realized, with a hollow pang in his stomach. Engle—who had surely eaten some of Vesper’s sea snacks just hours before—answered with an enthusiastic yes.
“Perfect! I don’t cook—I deal with enough knives on the job, if you know what I mean—but I’ll grab something from across the street. There’s this lovely little restaurant; the chefs are from Zura and brought all sorts of spices over. I’ll get a variety.” With a final smile, Violet walked to the foyer, tied back on the bottom of her dress, and strode out the door into the town square, which was crowded, but not nearly as much so as before.
Melda shrugged. “She seems nice.”
Engle gaped at her. “She’s an assassin!”
The lark had been left behind and squawked angrily at Engle.
“What?” he said to it. “It’s true!”
“Stop it,” Melda said.
Engle scoffed. “You only like her because she trained with your beloved giantesses!”
In fact, Melda had never taken off the ring the giantesses had given to her, as a token to remember to be strong. She twirled it around her finger as she huffed, then leaned back on Violet’s exceptionally comfortable couch.
Vesper shrugged. “I think she’s the fish’s scales.”
Engle turned to her and blinked. Tor figured it was some sort of Swordscale compliment.
Captain Forecastle made himself comfortable on the couch and wriggled his toes in his boots. “Wouldn’t believe the places we stayed, when ye left us at Tortuga Bay.” He looked around. “Now this is luxurious.”
Engle scoffed. “I suppose killing is a profitable business.”
Melda glared at the pirate. “Don’t you dare try to steal anything.”
Captain Forecastle laughed. “Steal from an assassin? Have ye lost yer head? Wouldn’t dream of it.” The lark squawked at him loudly, and he sighed, then pulled a ruby-hilted dagger from his pocket—a dagger that surely hadn’t been there before they had entered the house. He placed it on the table, and lifted his hands in silent surrender. “All right, all right.”
Soon, Violet arrived, juggling three baskets of food in her hands, along with a large box of Perla chocolates.
They ate dinner in her dining room—garlic roasted potatoes, buttered fried dough, mushroom soup, fresh salmon covered in an array of colorful spices, steamed vegetables Tor had never tasted before—until the chatter of the streets died down.
After much prodding from Melda and Vesper, Violet explained how her job as an assassin worked. Through the sliver in her door she would receive a white letter with a red seal. If
