I was broken after Ozora and Skirmisher. I didn’t save those hippocamps; they saved me. Healed me. As they had before when mother died, and I lost myself in work at Uncle Luvon’s ranch.

They were a safe haven. I owe them my life, and I will do anything to protect them.

Captain’s Log, Mayhem

Captain Fraser Connell

****

I stomped away after shouting that I assumed the ballista would solve my problems. I needed to get away from those two women in front of me right now.

Before I did something I’d regret. Or get me cooked well done.

Those crazy bitches smoked too much blissflower. It was the only explanation that made sense. Easy enough to dismiss the sphinx’s mystical mutterings and nonsensical poem. I just couldn’t wrap my head around what she said about Ozora and the hippocamps.

There’s no reason for that overgrown cat-girl to know I’d pictured that sunset sail, dreamed of Ozora and me together.

Except she nailed it.

I paced between the tents, lost in my thoughts of years ago.

That night. On the deck of Skirmisher watching it go up in flames, I was afraid if I caught Ozora I’d either kill her or beg her to stay. To explain.

Why? Why destroy what we had?

I’d been told she torched Skirmisher over gossip I’d cheated. Told by someone I trusted.

Why now is she yelling about hippocamp mares?

“It didn’t make sense five years ago. Why should it make sense now?” I muttered.

“Sir?” One of the cook’s helpers paused, and I asked him to bring a bigger table and chairs.

He hurried away. I wanted to do the same, but it wouldn’t get rid of the four troublesome females.

I wanted to punch or stab something.

Never. Ever. Did I ever imagine I’d have a smart-ass sphinx and a dragon —

A frikkin dragon! Show up with only the two people to try to kill me and live to tell of it.

Although if I’m being honest, I let them get away.

I did. I let Taenya go because I didn’t have the will to chase her down at the time. I let Ozora go because I didn’t trust myself.

And it doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself, “we were only together a couple months,” or “don’t let her get under your skin.”

Fucking plenty of other women since Ozora didn’t ease the impact of seeing her again.

I twisted the heel of my boot on the carpet under the table. They’d laid out rugs from the keep under this tent. Grinding something helped funnel away some of the rage. Wish I could grind away the memory of her as readily.

Along with the yearning.

I’d kept her from occupying my thoughts for a very long time. I’d put her almost completely out of mind.

Now, seeing her again. I wanted to scoop her up, beg her to explain even as I wanted to kick my own ass for even considering being such a fool again.

Especially since this time, she came with a ton of baggage.

Invading elves.

Dragon.

Sphinx.

Mutiny instigator.

That’s not all. Did I fail to mention? Somehow, my trusted former second in command has let this once glorious city fall to shit.

I knew I should’ve stayed on my island. Should’ve let the elves sail by and take the whole fucking Eastern Reaches.

I wanted to, just … there were reasons. A bunch of them.

How Taenya and Cleobah learned of them is a mystery, but calling me out about my hippocamps meant I had to listen.

Hippocamps saved me. I’d do anything to save them.

I didn’t care if the elves burned Hastrior, but it was obvious to anyone who knew history they wouldn’t stop there. They’d eventually find me and my crew on our little isle in the Vauxterel chain, and then we’d all be dead. My crew are seasoned warriors, but against the Emperor’s entire fleet? Not a chance, as we all found out last night.

The Wars of the Sundering were millennia ago, and here in the East no one remembers them except as myth. They are unprepared, and if the Emperor ever got a foothold in Hastrior, it wouldn’t be long before he once more ruled the world.

My first instinct was to take Mayhem and set sail for anywhere but here. Find a place so far from the Empire of the West I’d be dead long before they caught up with me. Taenya must be crazy to pit the three of us, plus a couple of magic critters against the Empire.

Even if one of them is a dragon. Even if the oldest tales of the Sundering sing how it was the dragons that ensured the victory of the East over the Empire.

I glanced over at said dragon, reclining next to the tent. I’d never expected to be so close to one. As far as I heard, not one had been spotted in hundreds of years.

It was terrifying and awe-inspiring. She, Cassyrra, met my gaze with the one eye facing me, glowing with her inner fire. The bright morning sun dimmed its brilliance to a pale lavender glow rimming her eyelids and glinting off her brow ridge.

Her nostrils flared wide, from narrow slits to wide ovals a small child could’ve crawled into. I stared, fascinated, as her scaled lid drooped in a slow blink and her cat-like pupil widened, then shrank. I sensed she was looking right at me.

++ Little man, you might consider letting go of all that anger. Remember where your true heart rests and be guided by that. ++

The words flowed into my mind. Feminine. Soft but tempered with age so unfathomable I could only call it ancient. I hadn’t been called “little man” by anyone for a very long time. My mother was the last one. Realization and memory punched at my heart.

All those visions of mother rose to overtake me. Right now, her sad, pale face overwhelmed my sight as she whispered, “Goodbye, my little man. Be good for your uncle and aunt.”

I shoved the image away and glared at the dragon who only slow blinked back at me, unimpressed.

Twice now, the colossal beast had dropped her thoughts into mine. It was a special kind of invasion, into that most private of spaces. I had no idea how to stop it except to get her to leave. Take all the others too.

“Best get used to hearing her.” The sphinx was definitely getting on my nerves. She had all the charm of a petulant teenager. Seeing her reclined on the thick, double-layered rugs, striking a pose like a carved statue of her likeness, startled a chuckle out of me.

After all the wild twists my life has taken in the last couple days, all I had left was bitter humor. Bleak laughter that I was forced into fight not of my choosing with these two mages as my allies.

Talk about irony!

It was supposed to be mine. The big stone fortress and everything in it. Mine and Ozora’s. A dream gone up in flames that haunted me still. I’d left the keep to Gordon when I left the city five years ago and expected to find him there. Instead, I found it in disarray and most of the staff fled.

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So many problems, it was a challenge to figure out where to start untangling them. I hesitated because no matter where I started, there was no avoiding Ozora and our past.

The sphinx’s word echoed again through my head.

Never again to question.

Never again to doubt.

Your heart’s desire.

Achieved.

I twisted them, looked at them from every angle and still couldn’t come up with any idea what the gold lion-girl was talking about. My heart didn’t have any questions, nor were my desires unfulfilled. Not anymore.

Typical mystical mumbo jumbo. Magic and numin are real enough. I use them every day. But I’ve also seen my share of psychics who claim to predict the future only to give you vague pronouncements that you can later make fit for anything.

I had no need for sphinxes or their prophecies. I make my own path in life and definitely don’t base it on random statements by a creature I’ve just met, no matter what their reputation.

“Not random.” The talking lioness interrupted my thoughts. “Time streams flow in very specific patterns. I see them, read them, walk through them. I see everything.” With those last words, her voice crackled, as if it came from a much older woman. For those few seconds, the young girl’s face became that of an aged crone. It lasted for only those couple of breaths before she was once more youthful, with a sly look in her golden eyes. “Ask me something. You know you want to.”

“Why?” I was bored, waiting on Taenya and Ozora, so the sphinx’s teasing lured me in. “Why tell anyone anything, and why make it next to impossible to be of any help?”

“I know.” She sighed, sounding now like a disappointed child. “It bugs me too. I try, I really do, but the words still come out obscure.” Oddly enough, I believed her.

“What about my past?” I asked. “Want to tell me where I messed up with Ozora?”

Dear Gahan, why did I let that slip out?

Wide golden eyes fastened onto mine as if they’d never let go. I’d always laughed at the idea of someone looking into your soul, but that’s indeed what Cleobah did. It was as if her gaze poured through me, following little tracks and trails, finding all my past misdeeds and adventures.

“It wasn’t you. It was her.” Her leonine shoulders and wings lifted and settled in a shrug.

At that moment, Taenya walked in, followed by Ozora.

“So we’re all going to eat while you try to convince me to join your merry band?” I spread my hands in exaggerated welcome. “After I tried to kill you?”

No, I don’t regret it. Yes, a part of me kinda wishes the bolt had struck. Things would be so much easier without her back here. Just hearing Ozora’s voice again twisted something deep in my gut. Something that had never let go of her. Like how I couldn’t forget the sound of her breath in the early morning. The way the sun glanced over her dark lashes and darker hair.

Her brown eyes darkened to almost black when she saw me looking her over. I couldn’t help it. She still looked the same. Suddenly I was again that younger me, desperately in love and shattered, hearing her last hateful words.

Taenya’s voice yanked me out of memory.

“Considering all our history.” She emphasized the word that linked us together. “I’d say now we’re even.” As she sat, Taenya added. “Maybe we try starting from scratch?”

Realizing I’d practically dug a hole in the already threadbare carpet with my heel, I kicked back, propping my feet instead up on the table.

“You must be truly desperate if you’ve come here to beg for my help.”

****

FIVE YEARS AGO…

“Get your hands off me, you ass!” My first clue she wasn’t throwing herself at the famous privateer Fraser Connell. Jolts of lightning swiftly followed her barked command. Vivid blue slashes leapt from her fingers to my arms.

I released her and jumped back, stumbling, and almost tripping.

“Great Gahan!” I cursed. “What did you do that for?” I shook my hands, trying to shake off the effects of the mage blast. It didn’t work. Painful tingling spread from where the bolts had struck.

“Decent people offer to help when someone trips, not take the opportunity for a free feel.” She snapped, flipping me a universal signal I was number one. Numin rippled, and she stepped sideways through a teleportal that opened to her right and vanished.

A spicy new mage in town? The bustle of the surrounding bazaar never slacked, even though I stood there, unmoving.

“Everything okay, sir?” Jared, one of my guards, asked. He was part of my crew, and ever since the DeLange’s failed attempt at mutiny, Gordon insisted I take two guards with me in the city.

“You saw that mage?” I asked him. When he nodded confirmation, I added. “Find where she’s staying, would you?”

Jared’s expression didn’t flicker. He nodded again, and said, “yes, sir.” Only his eyes held a glint of laughter.

She had to be new. I’d have known if a mage of her talent was already here. I’d been looking.

A teleportal spell cast that rapidly after she blasted me meant she was skilled and powerful.

She was right, I was an ass, and now I had to convince her to help me.

Gahan, god of the waves, must’ve been favoring me after all, shoving the mage I need into my path. My arms still burned and tingled from shoulders to fingertips, but I grinned. Today was my lucky day.

None of Hastrior’s local mages could craft the air amulets I sought for my crew. They were one of the last pieces needed for Skirmisher’s next mission. I had to find this new mage. She was my best hope to launching the rescue mission I’d been planning.

Even if it meant finding out by making her use her spells against me.

Remembering how it felt to hold her, even momentarily, made my breeches tighten.

I needed to find her.

It didn’t take too long.

“Come to Hastrior for business.” Jared reported the next day, handing me the slip of paper with the address of her hotel. A few days later, I sat at an outdoor table of a café across from her hotel. She routinely had breakfast here before moving on to the bazaar. She liked to get there early, setting up in her spot under a large shady tree.

This was her favorite table in the café. The one she liked to sit at while she sipped and nibbled as she read her book.

The rattling wheels of her little cart squeaked to a halt behind me. “You don’t have to apologize in person for groping me. Staying away would’ve been enough.”

I stood and turned to look her up and down. She lifted one dark eyebrow, her brown eyes gone black.

“How could I?” I asked. “When you are so exactly what I need.”

I layered on the seductive vibes, and I’m certain my desire showed in my gaze. Since she was so clearly expecting me to be sleazy, I gave her what she wanted. She snorted and crossed her arms, her expression daring me. “Is that so?” she asked, her tone light but somehow more dangerous. “What sort of need do you feel I can satisfy?”

“A mage.” I told her, melting away the innuendo. “I need a mage and none here have anything like your ability.”

Her defiant expression crumpled into confusion. Maybe a little regret? At least I hoped that’s what I saw.

“I need air amulets to protect my crew if they fall overboard or get snared by wild sirens. No one in Hastrior has the skill.”

The wariness didn’t leave her eyes, but interest sparked.

“Those aren’t easy. Sylphs and sprites are fickle, and I need one for each amulet. How many?”

“One hundred.” I said. “To start.”

I saw her swallow. Her lovely eyes darted over me, taking in my clothes, my weapons.

“Who are you?” She blurted into the awkward silence. It filled the space behind her unsubtle assessment of me.

“Fraser Connell. At your service.” I sketched a bow worthy of a king’s court.

Since I returned to the world above the waves, since I took over Skirmisher, I’ve never been so pleased to see a woman look so shocked at learning my identity.

“The pirate captain?” Her deep brown eyes lit with golden sparks of wonder and her jaw slacked. I grinned. She’d probably heard plenty of rumors.

“Privateer.” I corrected her. “I’m paid to hunt pirates, among other things.”

“You’re the one who killed the Prince?”

“Never listen to rumors.” I sidestepped her question. Her brow twitched and lips pursed, but she didn’t press.

“Isn’t stalking lowly Journeyfolk below such a lofty person as yourself? Don’t you have important city governance to see to?” This mage was no stranger to verbal sparring, she deflected and sidestepped with matching skill.

“After we settle on your price for the amulets. What will you need?” Banter was fun, but I was ready to sit and eat.

“You’re serious.” Her head tilted, to look deeper into my eyes. She was nearly a foot shorter than me and it was a stretch for her. She even rose up on her toes, expression intent.

“I never joke about my crew’s safety.”

“A most considerate pirate.” She coughed, and stepped back as if realizing how close she’d come. “Excuse me, privateer.” She widened those glittering eyes with exaggerated emphasis.

Even her sarcastic correction was adorable. “It’s an important distinction, but I might be a prince now, since the job is open.”

“Privateers get the standard rate. Princes pay triple.”

“If I’m paying that much, I’ll expect your undivided attention.”

Her face blanked of expression in shock, as if she didn’t expect my answer, but she caught up hastily and didn’t hide the calculation in her smile.

It undid me, even though she was obviously about to ask for something outrageous.

“If you’re serious, you can buy me breakfast and tell me the rest.”

Absolutely.

I have no idea why she caused such an immediate fascination. She wasn’t beautiful. Not in the classic, sculpted, high fashion sense.

Yet, she was stunning.

It was the light that shone from her, a glow that made her irresistible. She couldn’t have been ignorant of my attraction, she just was not reacting. It made me want to break down those walls she had flung up, hiding behind a business-like mask.

All her wariness returned, dimming her glow. I cleared my throat and said, “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” I pulled the chair out for her. Now it was her turn to look me up and down, curiosity breaking through her suspicion.

“I’m going to treat you like you’re a respectable businessman and this is a legitimate contract.” She maneuvered her cart of wares and supplies off to the side and sat in the chair I held.

“Naturally.” Easy enough to agree to. “That’s what this is.” I assured her as I sat back down.

“Prove otherwise—” She raised both hands and made grabby motions. “—and I will turn you into starling.” She leaned across the table to emphasize her point. “And leave you that way.”

My laugh burst out, but at her wide-eyed, serious stare, it cut off.

“I’m duly chastened, Lady…?” I paused, waiting for her to fill in the blank.

“Ozora.” She sat back, folded her hands in her lap, and corrected me. “I’m not titled, nor do Journeyfolk mages use them.”

“Why a starling?” My curiosity prompted me to ask.

“Did you know starlings are excellent mimics? I had an auntie who nursed one with a broken wing. Little Speckles learned to repeat certain things auntie said, even his name.” I blinked in confusion at her non-answer. Ozora’s lips curved with satisfaction before turning up in a broader smile to the server who’d approached our table. “Good morning, Raven, how are you?”

They exchanged quick chit-chat while Ozora ordered a sumptuous breakfast.

“Were you going to answer my question?” At least that’s what I tried to ask after placing my order, only to have her cut me off before I got past the first syllable.

“Because then, just like Speckles, you could tell everyone who you were and have to eat bugs.” That was unquestionably a challenge in her sweet expression and sparkling eyes.

“Very specific.” I nodded, impressed.

She shrugged. “People think because I travel alone, I must be an easy target.”

“How many starlings would recognize you, Ozora?”

The see-sawing motion she made with one hand seemed to belie her cheery, “Not too many.”

Bright, merry, and genuine, yet if I were to retrace her travels somehow, I was sure I’d hear a few starlings call her name.

Most mages of her caliber were pampered creatures with wealthy patrons. Why she was still Journeying, I didn’t care.

She was here now, and I had to have her.