on the Ace of Skulls. You were attacking it when it exploded. You think the Archduke is going to want to pardon the man who killed his only son?’ The corner of her mouth quirked into a smile. ‘You’re a traitor and a pirate, just like I am.’
Frey wanted to deny that intimacy. He wanted to tell her that they were not the same. But he knew she was right. She spoke to all his deepest fears. His whole plan relied on making a deal with the authorities, and he knew how authorities could be. There was no fairness or justice in them. They had the power to go back on any deal they made, if it suited them.
‘Come with me, Darian,’ Trinica said. That shocked him.
‘With you?’ he sneered, automatically.
‘I’ll drop you at a safe port. You can make your way from there. We’ll be under terms of truce, as one captain to another; I’ll see you’re not harmed.’
Frey hesitated, the sneer dropping from his face. He believed her. There was honour among pirates of a kind there never had been among the aristocracy. And yet it enraged him how even this slender invitation made his heart jump. Though he’d loathed her all these years, his body seemed never to forget the love they’d once shared. The merest hint of reconciliation, of alliance, ignited a yearning in his guts that disgusted him. He reacted by hardening his resolve.
Damn her. Damn her and her terms of truce.
She was no longer the woman he’d loved. The woman he loved no longer existed. Instead, he was haunted by her ghost.
‘Why take the risk, Darian?’ she said. ‘If you go back there, they’ll hang you.’
‘If I don’t go back, they’ll hang my crew for sure.’
‘Since when did that matter to you?’
He didn’t know the answer to that. It wasn’t really important. It had been an accumulation of moments: a clutter of drunken laughter, of triumphant grins, of gunfights and arguments and sarcastic little quips. The feeling had crept up on him stealthily, and by the time he was aware of it, he’d been overtaken.
Maybe he’d decided it when he chose to trust Jez with his ignition code? Or when he’d given it away to Trinica in order to save Crake’s life? Maybe it was that he felt the need to repay Jez’s loyalty: she’d come back, and he admired her for that.
He didn’t know when it had started to matter. He just knew that it did. He wouldn’t abandon his crew, no matter what the risks were now.
Trinica saw the decision in his eyes. A faint respect crept into her tone. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘Look at you now.’
But Frey was in no mood to be congratulated. He pressed the tip of his cutlass harder under her chin, tipping her head back. A spot of bright red blood bloomed against her white skin. ‘Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.’
‘There isn’t one,’ said Trinica. ‘This is your chance, Darian. You take me back, I die anyway. So I promise you, I won’t go quietly. You’d better kill me now. I’d rather you did it than them.’
Her voice was utterly without fear. It was Frey who was afraid. He had no doubt that she meant what she said. She’d throw herself onto his sword rather than allow herself to be taken prisoner. She didn’t just expect death, she welcomed it. At that moment he understood how she’d become one of the most dreaded pirate captains in Vardia. Everything inside her had died with their baby. How could you kill the walking dead?
He looked upon the woman he’d once loved, her chin raised, gazing coolly at him. He knew he’d never be able to do it. Because he owed her. He’d turned her into this creature when he left her so cruelly. Maybe he wasn’t entirely responsible for the death of his child, but he bore some of the blame. He’d inspired her
