“Stay where you are,” I call out. “Listen to my master and no one gets hurt!”

We’d had the idea for me to pretend to be his slave the moment I volunteered to assist him. I can’t do the things he can in the water, and I don’t have the strength he does. But if people view me as an unwilling servant, they’re more likely to keep their focus on Ranan instead of taking out their anger on me.

And if that doesn’t work, I have a few strategically placed knives under my costume. I’m not afraid to jump overboard, and that stops most people from following me.

The ships pull up closer to Akara, and the captain of one stands up at the prow of the small boat, the men lifting their oars from the waters. “There’s a turtle blocking the way! We can’t pass!”

“The turtle belongs to my master,” I reply. “Do as he says and no one will come to harm!”

The captain’s face turns ugly. “You’re interfering with Aventinian ships. Tell your master to move through.”

“He will not,” I call out, stepping forward. “Not until you give us your valuables and your slaves. Then he’ll command the turtle to move.”

“Robbing sea-ogres,” the man snarls, stabbing a finger at Ranan. “You can’t do this!”

Rude.

Ranan gestures at the water, indicating that they have an alternative route. They can always swim all the way back to Aventine.

“Please,” I say, adding desperation to my voice. “My master will not be swayed. Just put your valuables in the basket he brings you and send your slaves over and he’ll let you pass.”

“Or we’ll fight you⁠—”

“Then you’ll still have to turn around,” I point out. They always get desperate before they give in. “He can speak to the turtle, I cannot. She will only move if he tells her to move. If you harm him, she might lash out and sink your ships.”

“Why would we do as you say?” the captain yells back. “We can just turn our ships around and move right past you.”

The men shoot panicked looks at that. They know as well as I do that the heavy ships, laden with goods, don’t move easily through the waters. They’ll have to go through us, or through Akara. Ranan takes the basket from my hands, and I act dramatically frightened. He dives into the water and while I shiver and act like a fearful idiot, he surfaces and immediately pulls on the prow of the boat to haul himself in. The men shout and immediately move to the other side to counterbalance, and the captain almost falls in himself.

I jump into the water, too, moving over to the smaller boat. I have a bag tucked into my belt, a knife in my teeth. When I climb on board, they all scurry to the far side of the craft like I’ve got the plague. I pull out the bag and gesture to it. “Valuables in here.”

“This is ridiculous,” cries the captain of the other ship.

“Don’t upset my master,” I yell out. “He’s likely to do something drastic.”

The captain isn’t buying it. He marches up to Ranan, moving down the narrow aisle between the rowers. He puts a finger in my husband’s scowling face. “You⁠—”

Before he can finish the statement, Ranan picks him up and tosses him overboard as if he weighs nothing.

Someone screams. Another person sobs aloud.

“He can’t swim,” one of the men says, getting to his feet. “Help him and we’ll give you what we have.”

Ranan crosses his arms, ignoring the request.

The man in the water splashes and flounders, his head never breaking the surface.

This is all part of the play-acting, too. “Please, my master,” I say, glancing at the bubbles on the surface of the water, the only sign that the armor-wearing man was here. “Spare his life? I’m sure they’ll all do as you say now.”

He glares at me. “Slave…”

I clasp my hands under my chin. “Please, my lord. Please! I’ll collect the funds and slaves and be quick about it!”

With a heavy sigh, Ranan scowls in my direction—and I have to admit, it arouses me. He’s just so good at being cranky and domineering. I’m getting better at hiding the fact that I’m turned on, but if this goes on for too long, I’ll lose my composure. The trick with our raids is to startle everyone, quickly get in and steal what we want, and then send them on their way.

And then afterwards, Ranan and I go through our booty and then frantically make love, our blood rushing from the excitement of it all.

Ranan continues to glare at me, and everyone looks anxious. There’s a bit of thrashing in the water from the man that went overboard, but he doesn’t surface.

“Please!” I cry again. I know Ranan won’t let him drown, but it doesn’t hurt to seem nervous.

My husband looks at the people on the ship. The man in front of him immediately takes off a heavy golden necklace and dumps it in the basket. “Just save Bridic.”

With that, Ranan sighs and dives overboard, sending the boat rocking and people scrambling to hold on once more.

It’s my turn to play things up. “You all need to do what he says,” I yell out dramatically. “He tore apart a man on the last ship for disobeying him! Please don’t make him angry!”

“In the basket,” the man tells them, pulling off his rings. “Everything you’ve got.”

Oh good. This is going to be easy, after all.

They make quick work of stripping off their valuables, and once I’m confident there’s no uprising, I turn to the occupants of my boat and hold the bag out. The man closest to me scowls, but he pulls off a jeweled brooch and asks no questions. I turn around, and to my surprise, there’s a large guardsman standing in my way.

“You don’t have to do this. We can help you.”

His mouth doesn’t move, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s not him talking after all. There’s someone behind him, using him as a human shield. Coward.

“Show yourself,” I say, holding the bag out. “My master wants all the jewels. Please make this easy on yourself and no one will get hurt.”

The woman steps out from behind the guard, and to my surprise, it’s a face I recognize. I stare into the hard, sneering face of Lady Dywan. She’s not a slave like I’d wondered, but covered in jewels and wears a fine dress. And she’s riding in a slave boat wearing those things, which tells me that she’s found a way to regain her fortune. Why is it that bad people always somehow find a way to survive?

She looks at me with equal surprise. “You.”

“Me,” I agree, and hold the bag out.

“The monster kept you? All this time?”

“Aye, he did. I’ve seen terrible, horrible things that would make your hair curl. Please, Lady Dywan, do as he says.”

She doesn’t strip off her jewels. Instead, she takes a step forward and holds her hands out to me. They’re covered in gaudy rings, her bracelets clinking as she extends her fingers. “You don’t have to do this,” she tells me. “We can save you. I can save you.”

I’m touched…at first. It’s kind of her to offer to rescue me. I remember five years ago, when she was the only one that protested that I’d be given to the sea-ogre. But I know now that Lady Dywan’s rescue isn’t a rescue after all. I’d just be patted on the back even as shackles were put around my wrists. Lady Dywan is the type that gets ahead by stepping on others. The fact that she’s a slaver now tells me everything.

Not that I’d ever take her up on her offer. I clasp her delicate, bony fingers in mine…and slip the biggest ring off of her hand, a huge ruby surrounded by knots of gold. “I’m good.”

Some time later, the seven slaves are huddled on Akara’s back in the fish-hide tent as the turtle lazily makes her way out to sea. The slaver ships are floating somewhere in the channel where we’d left them after taking all their oars and tossing them into the water. If they’re smart, they retrieved them and went on their way. If not…well. Lord Vor tends to those who tend to themselves.