Lust for touch or lust for gold,

  Tear your heart, you must be bold,

  In shadowed halls where whispers play,

  Steel yourself ‘fore break of day.

  Chaos steers while Order rests

  Your desire pounds, deep in your chest,

  Fate, a corridor, with many doors,

  A row of docks for ships to moor.

  Will you act or will you hold?

  Lust for touch or lust for gold,

  Your boone is always yours to make.

  What is yours to have? And what is yours to take?

  Farlough the Payaso

  Solmirada, Etos

  The dark figure ran a dagger under one of their nails, perched comfortably between the wall of a rise and the roof. They did not expect to move from their position for quite awhile, and tried to settle in on the shingles of the large oak warehouse.

  Their cloaks helped some, tucked away underneath them so that they wouldn’t stir overmuch in the breeze. The stranger did not want to be seen this evening, and the group they were expecting was full of perceptive people.

  They had a good view of the street and alley below. The Paso Fino sailors had already entered the warehouse, which meant Sara’s group would be moving up the alley. It wouldn’t be long until they could pick up their footsteps, even as quiet as the crew from the Storm Eel was.

  Akula and his crew exited the warehouse onto the damp sand street below. The stranger stowed the dagger and shrugged into their spot. They were disappointed to see that the Paso Fino officers seemed unaware that Sara was advancing, but the sooner this was over, the better. Perhaps they had thought too highly of the Paso Fino.

  Their ebbjack did spot them in time, deflecting a iron dart aimed at Grey’s head at the last minute. Sara had clearly intended to take out the Lieutenant first, which seemed a smart option. Instead, the dart thudded into the neck of the trader locking the door, leaving him bleeding out in the sand.

  That was a clever move in a short moment for Akula’s ebbjack. The stranger made note of it. They shouldn’t underestimate him.

  As Sara approached, Grey recognized her first, confirming their suspicion about the Osprey’s sight. Chaos was stronger in her than the rest, though they each had enough running through their veins to be a problem.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  As Grey started her attempt at negotiation, Akula touched the back of his other riptide’s arm, some kind of signal. The thick-necked man already had a black powder pouch in his hand, deftly removed when Akula had shoved him during their squabble. The group was making up quickly for their earlier lack of perception, and the Storm Eels had yet to notice.

  Without preamble, the big riptide launched the pouch at the Storm Eel crew. Grey and the ebbjack cut down the retaliation of iron darts and knives. None made it past them, and Akula had yet to draw his sword. The stranger had to admit they liked the brazen display of faith in his crew, especially when he wore no armor. Why wasn’t he wearing armor?

  Once the Storm Eel’s riptides recognized what had been thrown at them, they tried to get space. Their position in the alley made it difficult, and when the blast came, it was all they could do to get away from it.

  Sara and her ebbjack noticed too late, and the pouch exploded right beneath them. Sara’s reflexes saved her from all but a few shards of iron, but the leg of her ebbjack was mangled, everything below the knee hanging by a thread.

  The Storm Eel’s ebbjack screamed and fell. One down. The stranger sighed. This was not going as they had planned.

  As soon as the blast detonated, the chestnut pony screamed, and Grey and her riptide charged forward. Their ebbjack drew his bow. Grey moved to cut Sara down in one motion, likely expecting her to still be stunned by the blast. Instead, Sara moved quickly behind one of her charging riptides, not interested in taking a fighter on directly.

  Before reaching Grey, the Storm Eel’s advancing riptide met a red-fletched arrow through his neck and spine, ending his life in an instant.

  Two down, and both from the ebbjack? The silent observer hadn’t expected as much.

  Almost as if the big Paso Fino ripper had known the opposing fighter would fall, he rushed forward, grabbing for Sara. She twisted out of his reach, retreating behind her two remaining allies. A sword's length away, the Paso Fino riptides paused briefly, taking stock of their three remaining opponents. Akula’s ebbjack would no longer have a shot now that they had tightened into the alley, and he waited silently by the captain.

  Sara acted first. With two daggers drawn, she leapt on a stack of crates to come down on Grey at an angle. The closest Storm Eel riptide simultaneously swung from the opposite direction. Grey pulled a long dagger from her thigh to block the ripper. She stepped into the block, giving it strength while simultaneously avoiding Sara’s slash.

  No longer needing to parry, Grey smashed the fist holding the hilt of her sword into Sara’s nose. The step, and the hilt in Grey’s fist, aided the punch greatly. Sara crumpled to the ground.

  Three down, and Sara was only unconscious. That was a problem. They shifted uncomfortably on the tile of the roof, annoyed.

  Akula’s other Riptide had blocked a similar strike from the Storm Eel’s remaining ripper, but instead of taking his advantage, he pushed off and used the curved blades on his bracers to tear through the leathers and back of the man pushing down on Grey.

  The ripper lifted his head to scream, but before a sound came out, Grey plunged her sword deep into his throat.

  Four down. The stranger stretched their feet, coming to terms with the fact that they would be out much longer than expected tonight.

  The remaining riptide tried another swing, but the Paso Fino’s ripper had yanked his fish hooks through with such strength, that he had already reset his defenses. He parried it and countered.

  She swung again, and when he parried, she moved to disarm the big ripper. Unfortunately for her, he had already closed too much distance. Though she succeeded at prying his well-made spatha out of his main hand, his other hand was on her neck immediately after. He snapped it with a twist, then gently laid her on the sand and retrieved his sword.

  The stranger in grey lifted into a crouch, preparing to leave. Suddenly, for some reason, as the dust settled, the cart pony swayed and fell to the packed earth. Dead or unconscious, they weren’t sure.

  The crew of the Paso Fino spun to look, and while Akula and the big riptide looked confused, Grey glared at the ebbjack. He rifled through his pockets inside his robes, looking confused.

  Six down? Seven with the pony? The stranger rolled their eyes. As a breeze blew down the hard-packed sand of the alley, they slid off the far side of the roof, a grey shadow engulfed by the dark press of the dimly lit district.