Scavenge the Stars (Scavenge the Stars #1)(22)

Stall, was all he could think.

“The money for medicine should be dowry enough.” Salvador adjusted the silk tie at the base of his neck. “But I’ll give you time to settle things with your father. Just as long as you don’t go back on your word.” His thumb moved almost lovingly across the hilt of his knife. “It would be a shame for a different fate to befall your sister, wouldn’t it, Cayo?”

Cayo momentarily stopped breathing, the back of his neck damp with sweat. Keeping his eyes locked on the Slum King, he knew without a doubt that there would be no getting out of this. Money or no money, he had entangled himself too deep.

Romara laughed softly near his ear, still sitting on Cayo’s lap like she owned him.

“Yes, sir,” he whispered.

“I’m glad you understand,” Salvador crooned. “Because you know what happens to those who try to cross me.”

The Slum King nudged aside the candle on his desk, revealing a jar that had been half-concealed behind it. It was filled with a pale liquid, and in that liquid floated two eyeballs of the most beautiful shade of bluish green.

Cayo stared in horror at the jar.

Sébastien’s eyes stared back.





Court Ruling: The accused has been found guilty of the following—smuggling, robbery, arson, and minor treason. The court hereby rules that defendant shall be sentenced to Landless status immediately following prosecution.

—COURT RECORD FROM JUDICIARY LEDGERS WITHIN THE REPUBLIC OF REHAN



Silverfish slept in fits and starts, her dreams rarely drifting beyond the boundaries of her aching body. Every time her eyelids fluttered she caught brief flashes of light. The sound of waves rushed in the distance, and when she tried to move she could only twitch, sending pain along her limbs.

Eventually, she was able to open her eyes for longer than half a second. The sun was a vicious eye staring down at her, and she squinted at the brightness of the white sand around her. The world seemed washed out, the color leached like dye from a shirt laundered too many times.

She tried to roll over and gasped in pain. Her arms were heavy and sore, her legs deadweight. And her head. It was pounding with a sickly beat, like a funerary march. She barely lifted herself on her elbows before vomiting.

She had first thought she’d washed up onto an island, but when she lifted her head she realized it was a small atoll. It curved in an almost perfect semicircle around a shimmering blue lagoon, like a crescent moon fallen to earth. A handful of palms stood stubbornly along the south side, not too far from where she had been washed up on the atoll’s soft white sand.

Silverfish rolled onto her back and groaned. Everything hurt.

But she was alive. Once again, she had survived.

She was hot and sticky, sea salt clinging to her skin and hair. Her tongue was swollen and dry in her mouth, the back of her throat burning with the need for water. A sickening shade of purple swam behind her eyelids—the blue of the sea mixed with the red of her blood.

After a minute to gather her strength, she crawled to the edge of the sand, toward the lagoon. The water was clear, and she could see where the sand descended into a black pit toward the middle. She cupped some water in her hand and tasted it, then spat it right back out. Salt water.

Damn it.

The shore of the atoll was stubbled with rocks and remnants of coral. Clinging to those rocks and coral were strange scallop-like creatures. Silverfish moved closer to inspect them. Their flesh was a delicate pink, and they were soft and spongy to the touch.

Brinies. Once considered a delicacy in Moray, they had been outlawed years ago after guests at a duke’s dinner party had been fed a bad batch. Most of the guests had died of the poison they had unknowingly ingested.

She couldn’t risk eating them, then. But still, their discovery surprised her. She didn’t know much about them other than their reputation and that they were notoriously difficult to find. The fact that they would be here, on this little forgotten atoll, seemed like a terrible omen.

“Ah, I see the monsters didn’t eat you.”

Silverfish turned quickly, her head pounding with a violent protest.

Boon. He was dripping wet, wearing a white shirt and a pair of cutoff trousers. “So you took my advice,” he said with a little salute that made no sense to her. “I knew you looked smart.”

“Where did you come from?” she rasped, her throat raw from salt water.

“I’m about to show you.” He tossed something to her; it landed on the sand between them. Her shucker. “I owe you again, Silverfish.”

Anger and confusion fought inside her, but eventually anger won out. “You were supposed to wait until I’d left the ship to escape. The captain knew I helped you.”

Boon shrugged. “I did warn you to jump ship. Not my fault you lingered.”

“He tried to kill me,” she growled.

“Looks as though he failed, huh?” he said, unfazed by her anger. If anything, he sounded cheerful. “’Less I’m talking to a ghost.”

He took a step forward, and she tensed. He stopped, waiting wordlessly for her permission to come closer. Eventually, she nodded, and he knelt beside her.

“The bullet grazed you, looks like.” He indicated a tear in her sleeve she hadn’t even noticed. Nor had she felt the thin red line on her skin underneath the tear, but now that she knew it was there it began to burn. “You never feel it in the heat of the moment, do you?”