Page 188 of Children of Blood and Bone

“Love, that’s not how this works. You hired us for a job. Sit back and let us do it.”

Amari and I glance at each other before turning to the monstrous battleship.

“You really believe you can accomplish this without our help?” Amari asks.

“Taking it is easy. The only question is how fast we can do it.”

He gives a hand signal to two men. They withdraw a crossbow with a hook and rope. Roën raises a fist, presumably to release the arrows, but pauses and turns to me. “What’s your limit?”

“What?”

“What are we allowed to do? Personally, I prefer a clean throat slit, but with the sea, drowning could be efficient, too.”

The ease with which he speaks of ending human life sends a chill through my skin. It’s the calm of a man who fears nothing. The calm that sits in Saran’s eyes. Though I can’t sense the spirits of the dead right now, I don’t want to imagine how many spirits would swarm around Roën.

“No killing.” The order surprises me, but as soon as it leaves my lips, it feels right. So much blood has already been spilled. Whether we win or lose tomorrow, these soldiers don’t need to die.

“You’re no fun,” Roën groans before turning to his men. “You heard her—take them out, but keep them breathing.”

A few mercenaries grumble and my heart shivers; how often is death their first answer? Before I get a chance to ask, Roën flicks out two sharp fingers.

The crossbow releases and hooks through the wooden hull of the ship.

Roën’s biggest man ties the end of the rope around his massive frame to keep it secure.

The mercenary Roën calls Käto rises from the boat’s steering wheel and makes his way to the newly taut rope.

“Pardon,” Käto mutters in Orïshan as he brushes past. Though a mask obscures much of his face, he shares Roën’s coloring and angular eyes. But where Roën has been brash and taunting, Käto has only been cordial and serious.

Käto reaches the other side of the boat and pulls on the rope to test its hold; satisfied, he jumps on and wraps his legs around it. My lips part in surprise as he shimmies up with the speed of a bat-eared foxer. Within seconds, Käto disappears over the railing, fading into the blackness of the other ship.

A weak grunt sounds, followed by another; a few moments later Käto reappears to give the go-ahead. As the last of his men board the ship, Roën beckons to me.

“Level with me, my mysterious maji. What will the gods give me if I take down this boat? Do I get to say what I’m interested in, or do they already know?”

“It doesn’t work like that—”

“Or maybe I need to impress them?” Roën talks over me, pulling his mask over the bridge of his nose. “What do you think I’ll get if I clear this boat in five minutes?”

“You won’t get anything if you don’t shut your mouth and go.”

His eyes crinkle through the holes of the mask; I have no doubt his foxer smile shines behind it. With a wink, he climbs up and we’re left to wait with only the mercenary anchoring the rope as company.

“Ridiculous.” I click my tongue. Five minutes for a boat of that size? The deck alone looks like it could support the whole army. They’ll be lucky to take it at all.

We sit in the night, cringing at the faint screams and grunts from above. But after the initial skirmish, the sounds fade into silence.

“There’s only a dozen of them,” Tzain mutters. “You really think they can take a whole shi—”

We stop as a shadowy figure slides down the rope. Roën lands on the boat with a thud and removes his mask, revealing his crooked smile.

“You did it?” I ask.

“No,” he sighs, and shows me the colored crystals of the hourglass in his timepiece. “Six minutes. Seven, if we’re rounding up. But if you’d let me kill, it would’ve been under five!”

“No way.” Tzain crosses his arms.

“See for yourself, brother. Ladder!”

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