Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(43)

“And a pirate.”

“Sort of.” He laughed. “Since you brought it up, you look a bit like a pirate yourself.”

This time, he managed to break through her brusque resistance. “I’m not a pirate,” she said, “but I am a ship’s captain.” She extended her hand. “I’m Hadley DeVilliers.”

Her name was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d heard it. He gripped her hand, and the sting of magic flowed between them. “Lucky Faris.”

“Faris?” Her grip tightened before she let go. “I was thinking of a different name.”

“You must be thinking of a different pirate,” Evan said, meeting her gaze.

“Really?” she said. “I could have sworn that you were Evan Strangward, known as the Stormcaster of the Indio.”

Brody and Teza shifted in their seats, their hands sliding toward their weapons. DeVilliers noticed—he knew she did—but pretended not to.

Evan ran his finger around the rim of his glass, playing for time. Of course she would figure it out, being a mage, and a ship’s captain. There weren’t that many pirates with auras.

“Congratulations, Captain, you’ve found me out.” Evan swallowed down his ale and signaled the bartender for another. “I hope that doesn’t ruin our nascent friendship.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t talk like any pirate I’ve ever met,” she said.

“That’s because you’ve never met a pirate like me,” Evan said.

“You’re a long way from the ocean, Stormcaster,” DeVilliers said. “Where’s your ship?” She looked around the room, as if he might have hung it on a hook by the door.

“Actually, I seem to be without a ship at the moment,” Evan said.

“Ah,” she said, shaking her head. “A shipless pirate? There’s nothing sadder—or more dangerous—than that.”

“What about you? What’s your ship?”

“The Sea Wolf. She sails out of Chalk Cliffs. Have you heard of her?”

Evan nearly choked on his cider. Then checked their surroundings to see if she’d brought any crew with her. She had not. It was just the four of them, so he had the numbers.

“I take it you have,” she said, her eyes crinkling in amusement.

The Sea Wolf was the sleek, three-masted flagship of the Fellsian navy. It was the bane of pirates and Ardenine warships alike. Its captain was known as one of the savviest masters afloat.

It was just his luck that he’d run into the chief officer of the Fellsian navy in a mountain town. A naval officer who looked like a pirate. One of the few wetlanders who would recognize him.

She tilted her chin up. “Now that we’ve been introduced, I have a question. I’ve heard rumors about your Stormborn crew—that they are fierce fighters with reddish auras.” She pointed at Teza and Brody. “Here is living proof. What does it mean, and how do they get that way?”

Evan shrugged, downplaying it. “It simply indicates that they are sworn to me.”

“I’m sworn to the Gray Wolf queen, but I’ve not grown furry ears,” DeVilliers said, running a hand through her hair as if to verify. “So these Stormborn—they are not wizards?”

Evan thought of describing them as made mages, but that would naturally spawn questions as to exactly how they were made, which was territory he didn’t want to get into. Blood magery was not a topic he wanted to raise on a first meeting.

“Not exactly. I suppose you could say that they are mages with specialized gifts.”

DeVilliers cocked her head, as if still puzzled. “Such as?”

“They are fierce fighters,” Evan said. “Very difficult to kill.”

He deflected three more questions before the Fellsian captain realized that he’d said all he was going to say on that topic. That didn’t mean that she was out of questions.

“So you’re from Carthis,” she mused. “Tell me, have you ever heard of a musical instrument called a ‘jafasa’?”

Evan could not fathom why this captain would be asking this particular question at this particular time. He nodded. “They are traditional instruments used by the horselords of Carthis, because they are light and portable. They are rare these days, because they are so difficult to play.”

DeVilliers toyed with a small dagger, flipping it and catching it in a way that might cost anyone else a finger. “Are they . . . magical at all?”

“Only in that they are good for making the time pass more quickly,” Evan said.

“You’ve explained these red mages. Tell me, have you ever seen a mage with an amulet embedded in his skin?”

This time, at least, Evan was somewhat prepared for the verbal cannonball. Still, it was all he could do to maintain his relaxed stance, to resist taking hold of his amulet and fighting his way out of the room. Evan sensed Teza and Brody shifting their weight, leaning forward, preparing to fight or flee.

He conjured up a puzzled frown. “Are you speaking of someone in particular? Someone you have seen or heard of?” Was someone asking about magemarks recently?

“I . . . I’ve heard about it and wondered if it was true,” DeVilliers said.

As a liar, she had a long way to go.