Cassia was unbearably sick of being wet. She was infuriated by the constant drip-drip-drip of water seeping down from the deck overhead. The incessant slosh of water back and forth on the floor was enough to drive her mad.

Her hair was matted and tangled, stinking of sour water. Her clothes fared no better. The tips of her fingers were constantly wrinkled and her mouth was constantly dry, her throat parched. The slowly healing cut on her cheek ached, though she was sure the salt water kept it free of infection.

It was sure to scar, though. Badly.

"Would you just sit down."

Cassia turned from where she'd been standing by the door of their cell. Askari sat with his back against the hull, eyes closed. Apparently the water slopping across the floor didn't bother him. She resisted the urge to snap at him.

After five days crammed together in a cell, Cassia had learned that Askari did not respond to her temper. It only turned him silent, and as he was currently her only source of information, that was problematic. It was better to maintain the odd peace that had been forged in the wake of their capture.

She let out a sigh, splashing through the water to crouch beside him, her back braced against the curving hull.

"You don't know his name?"

"No one knows his name. That's why he's called Wolf. Or White Wolf. Or wretched Brunian bastard," Askari said, his voice monotone. He didn't bother to open his eyes.

"Well I'm not calling him Wolf," she muttered, folding her arms around her legs. "That's ridiculous."

"So call him captain. Or sir. Or something that's not going to tempt him into giving you a scar to match on the other side of that pretty face."

Cassia tentatively touched her wounded cheek. Two days after their capture, the Sorveti woman had come down to the brig and treated the wound. The stitches pulled every time Cassia talked or ate. The other woman had proved even more taciturn than Askari, saying nothing as she worked, even though Cassia had addressed her solely in Sorveti.

She turned to Askari. "Are you sure it shows no sign of infection?" 

It was hard to tell with the sound of the sea around them, but she thought she heard him sigh. Then he turned her face toward him, fingers gentle as he pressed along the lines of the cut. Cassia bit her tongue so she didn't curse at him, bright sparks of pain zinging up around her left eye.

"I wish we could cover it," he muttered, sitting back when he'd finished his inspection. "But there's no way it would stay dry, which would be far worse than leaving it open."

Cassia swallowed against the anxiety pressing on her throat. It wasn't the scar she minded. All the kings of Metus had scars. 

It was infection that scared her. Its sour stink and the fever that came with it was frightening. How it could seep into the blood and kill. How it was difficult to fight in the best of circumstances. It would be impossible now.

Infection would kill her here. Infection had been the only thing that had nearly killed Marcus.

Cassia held her breath until Askari said, "It seems clean. There is no sign of blood poisoning and the skin surrounding it is neither overly red, nor hot to the touch."

A shallow nod was the best response she could give. Resting her chin on her knees, she let her eyes rove around the brig. The cell was formed by a lattice of metal, one row of cages facing another on the other side of the ship with a narrow walkway between them. What was left of Nasir's crew currently occupied those cages.

Most sat as Askari did, their backs to the hull, eyes closed. Resting.

Or resigned. Cassia was never sure.

A few hung on the bars of their cages, peering at the stairs that sat toward the stern. Overhead, Cassia could hear the familiar sounds of sailors working—the thump of booted feet, the snap of sail and rope, a few snatches of song that drifted belowdeck. Every now and then the steady rhythm was punctuated by a barked order.

It was the second mate. Or...who she assumed the second mate. At any rate, it wasn't the captain. He must be in his cabin. Perhaps he was charting their course to the nearest slave auction.

Cassia gazed at the stairs, fingers drifting to her cheek as she scowled. By now, she could recognize the captain's voice with ease. She strained her ears, always listening for him to speak. It served to stoke the fury banked deep down in her chest.

"Where can they get the most money for us?" she asked for what was probably the thousandth time. "Do they have a slave market in Brunia like those in Metus and Soria?"

"Everywhere has a slave market," Askari said sourly.

"But where will they take us?"

Askari let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't know, Cassia. Where they'll make the most money, I suppose."

"Why do you think that?" Cassia inspected the burn on her hand. The Sorveti woman had lanced a few of the bigger blisters. The skin was still raw and shiny, but no severe damage had been done.

"I've spent the last seven years with merchants," he said. "You go where the money is." 

His words became more clipped with every breath. He was especially irritated today. Cassia didn't care. She needed to discuss their situation. To think. To act like there was some solution to their misfortunes. 

"So, Soria?" She heaved a sigh, drumming her fingers on her knee. "The slave markets there are some of the oldest and largest in the world."

"Yes. Older and larger than your silly little kingdom's."

Cassia ignored the jab. "Do our chances of escape improve if we go to your homeland?"

"What about Metus?" he asked, sitting up straight and scowling at her. "Perhaps we should hope for mercy there."

She shook her head in dismissal. "Brunians don't trade with Metus. And escape would be...perilous. The laws concerning escaped slaves are harsh. We'd be lucky to come away with no more than a brand."

"Even for a Metian?" Askari asked, sounding dangerously close to curious.

Cassia shrugged. "Plenty of natural-born Metians are slaves. Whether they were born that way or sold to settle a debt. It doesn't matter. Either way, a slave is a slave. The empire doesn't care about origin."

"It only cares that there are enough slaves to keep the kingdom running."

She narrowed her eyes at his second use of "kingdom", but let it slide. It was best to let Askari purge his venom in these small ways.

"You speak as though Soria is not guilty of the same. Your empire was built in the same manner as mine, Askari."

It was his turn to shrug. "It is the way of the world. The strong will subjugate the weak and the weak will let them. You speak of guilt. Is this something we should be guilty of? Is a lion guilty because it eats the weakest in a herd?"

"First the lion kills them," she said. "The dead do not suffer as the living do."

"That does not address my question."

Cassia didn't answer at first. After all, the wonders of her empire would be impossible without slave labor. Without slave labor, their economy would be destroyed. But she would have to be a monster not to see the suffering of enslaved people. She would have to be a complete wretch to think that slaves were content in any capacity, even if they had a kind master.

"Yes," she said simply. "You and I and every person who has been waited on by a slave, or bought or sold one." She shook her head. "But being guilty doesn't fix the problem. In fact, it's a rather useless sentiment, isn't it?"

Askari just watched her for a long moment, his dark eyes thoughtful. Then, he said, "I wonder. Do you hold this sentiment simply because you now share their plight?"

A quiet huff escaped her as she rolled her eyes. "Perhaps."

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the hull. "Now, if you don't mind, princess, I was trying to take a nap."

Cassia snorted, pushing back to her feet. Water sloshed around her boots as she walked back to the front of the cage. She grimaced at the bars, wrapping her fingers around the rough, cold metal. She despised them with her entire being.

Behind her, Askari muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously insulting. Cassia pretended not to hear him, instead leaning on the bars so she could watch the stairs leading down into the brig.

Eventually, she dropped to a crouch, then sat, leaning against the bars. She rested her head against them, eyes drifting closed as the rhythm of the ship over the waves lulled her toward sleep—something she hadn't had much of in recent days.

She had nearly succumbed when the clump of heavy boots down the stairs jolted her back to consciousness. Cassia scrambled to her feet, throwing a look over her shoulder. Askari stayed seated, though his eyes were open, his expression ready and wary.

"Keep your mouth shut, Cassia," he warned softly in Metian. "Now is not the time for your arrogance to sharpen its claws."

Cassia bit her tongue, giving a stiff nod. Then, she allowed herself a grim smile. Once more glancing over her shoulder, she said, "You sound like someone else I know and rather despise."

Corax had said something rather similar to her, all those weeks ago.

"You sound like no one I know," Askari muttered under his breath as one of the pirates thudded down the rest of the stairs. "Yet, I still manage to despise you."

It was tempting to snap something back, but Cassia decided her attention was better spent on the pirate who was now pacing slowly down the narrow way between the rows of cells. He peered at the occupants of each individual cage, muttering under his breath. Cassia slowly backed away from the bars, sinking to a crouch beside Askari.

"I won't open my mouth if you won't do anything foolish," she whispered, sending a pointed glance at the bruises still marbled across his face. A few of the fresher ones were still plum-purple over the greening ones he'd received the day they were captured.

Askari didn't respond. He never did when she brought up his sudden, strange protective behavior. 

The pirate drew nearer and Cassia leaned her head back, letting her eyelids fall half-closed as she watched him approach. She knew it made her appear haughty, but oddly that behavior drew less attention than when she acted contrite or timid.

The Brunians seemed to expect her to act prideful. Belligerent, even, and it drew more ire when she acted in any other way. It seemed a universal truth that people wanted to see what they expected to see, and any surprises were met with ill grace.

Not that Cassia found it hard to meet their expectations.

It startled her when the pirate drew a key from his pocket, sneering down at her as he unlocked the door. Usually, they simply stood on the other side of the bars, hurling insults and threats. Her heart leapt into a gallop and she sprang to her feet in the same instant Askari pushed to his. She didn't resist as he herded her back, positioning himself between the pirate and Cassia.

After all, he spoke better Brunian. And he was roughly a head taller and a couple dozen pounds heavier than she was.

The pirate scowled at Askari, gesturing for him to get back. When Askari shook his head and didn't budge, the pirate snarled something and yanked a knife from his belt. "Ná sothí mis le ganat."

The only word Cassia recognized was sothí. She was fairly sure it meant bitch, or something along those lines. Askari never bothered to translate unless they required an answer directly from Cassia, but she was familiar enough with the tone and the word was used almost exclusively in reference to her.

"Fath?" Askari asked. Why?

Etain had at least taught her some basic questions. Cassia craned her neck and stood on tiptoe, waiting for the pirate's answer.

He didn't. At least...not in so many words. For being a rather broad man—barrel-chested with thick shoulders—he was far faster than Cassia was expecting. He lunged forward, his hands locking around Askari's arms. Cassia dove to the side as the pirate shoved Askari back into the wall.

Her eyes darted to the open cell door, but she dismissed the notion. Where would she run? Her attention returned to the pirate, who had a meaty hand wrapped around Askari's throat, the other pressing the sharp point of a dagger over his kidney.

"Sé!" Cassia shouted, startling the pirate into looking at her. "Sé. Bheíd mé...uh...mé..." Cassia blew out a breath of frustration. "Yes. I'll go with you."

Askari was slowly turning bright red, struggling to remove the hand from his throat and keep the dagger at bay simultaneously. His eyes darted to her. "Cassia," he managed to choke out, warning heavy in his voice.

"I'll go with you," she said. She dared a step forward, reaching a hand forward in an attempt to calm him. Before she could make contact, the pirate whirled away, brandishing his knife at her.

She raised her arms, palms open and toward him, bowing her head slightly. The show of submission made her stomach roll, but it was better than risking more damage to Askari.

It'll be paid back, she promised herself. The chance will come.

Askari slumped back against the hull, gasping for breath and rubbing his throat. His dark eyes flashed in the low light. Cassia barely moved in time to throw herself between Askari and the pirate as he tried to tackle the Brunian.

"Get out of the way, Cassia," he snarled in her ear.

"No." She dug her nails into his biceps. "Stop, Askari. Think. He's taking me one way or the other. I'd prefer we choose the path that doesn't end with me sitting in your blood when he brings me back here."

He flicked his gaze down to her. "If he brings you back here."

Cassia's stomach did a neat roll at the thought, but all she did was gaze steadily at Askari.

His mouth pressed into a tight line, but the tension oozed from his muscles as he gave a short nod. When he stepped back, Cassia blew out a breath and began to turn. The pirate grabbed her arm and jerked her along behind him. She let out a small cry when her shoulder collided with the metal. The door to the cage slammed behind her.

"Techt," the pirate commanded. This was followed by a slurry of words she couldn't seem to catch up with.

Cassia looked over her shoulder, boots skidding on the damp wood. Askari stood at the door to their cell, one hand gripping the bars so hard his knuckles turned white. His voice was hoarse when he said, "He's telling you to go with him. To not fight."

"Techt!" 

Her shins banged against the first step as the pirate began to drag her up the stairs. She struggled to get her feet more firmly under her, clutching the pirate's arm a she attempted to walk up the stairs rather than be hauled up them.

When they emerged onto the deck, Cassia had to close her eyes against the glare of the sun. A cold wind cut through her sodden clothes, gooseflesh erupting over her body. She stumbled across the deck, trying to force her eyes open but it was too painful after so many days in the near darkness of the brig.

Her shins knocked into more stairs, nearly sending her to her knees. Jeers and insults rained down around her, the pirate who held her laughing as he pulled her up the stairs. Cassia gritted her teeth, her heart pounding a wild rhythm. Her nails caught on the thick, rough cloth of his shirt as she scrabbled for a better hold, for any kind of leverage.

The light suddenly dimmed and she heard the sound of a door slamming open. She went flying forward when the pirate shoved her. Her hands flew out just a second too late and she collided with the edge of what might have been a desk or table. The corner dug into the side of her thigh, the shock making her leg go numb.

Cassia's hands scrambled along the smooth surface, but all she managed was to knock several things to the ground alongside her when she fell.

The door slammed shut behind her.