Vallin took in his surroundings carefully. It was an interrogation room, just a few chairs and a raggedy desk. There was a high window in the top corner, letting in dull afternoon light. Water dripped from the roof in places, rhythmic and calming. He could smell the ocean close by somewhere, calling back to him.

The door clicked shut behind him. Glancing briefly at the window, he refocused. "I need to speak with the Queen," he said.

"Why would I know where to find her?" she asked. "I'm no Siren."

"You certainly look like one to me, stunner." He turned around to see her, making a point of looking her right in the eye.

She clasped her hands behind her back, chin up to meet his gaze. "Here's the deal: I can't enchant you." She paused, the ghost of a smile threatening her sombre look. "With anything magical."

He felt his skin get hot from holding her stare so long, but he couldn't break contact first. "An island full of Sirens," Vallin said, raising a brow, "and they send the only one that doesn't have charm to interrogate me?"

"You don't think I'm charming?"

"Not really the word I'd use, no."

She tilted her head to watch as he examined the room. "Charm has its limits. It can only work so well, in the right conditions. A man with your reputation could turn a Siren's tricks right back on her."

Vallin searched her expression but found nothing of use in it. "Would it not be far easier to play womanizer on you than a Siren?"

"It most definitely would not be." She settled into one of the rickety wooden chairs. "Besides, what's one Siren when you've had the Queen?" She glanced up at him. The way she moved was impossible to describe, so fluid and elegant in the simplest of task.

He took a wide step around her. "Regardless of what I did to get the deal, the guidelines of it are firm. I don't touch her Sirens, and she doesn't touch my ship. I'd like to discuss this with her personally."

She remained unsmiling, but she was so clearly amused. "I'm sure you would love to discuss it with her personally," she said, leaning forward. "Tell me King of the Sea, most powerful man in the ocean, how much of that success is talent, and how much of it is looks?"

She'd flagged a crack in his confidence, and now she was trying to break it open. He recognized that, but he deflected anyway. "Looks don't equate success. I'm the biggest name in the sea, and you're...?"

"The owner of your ship," she finished. No smile, no clever expression. He was the weaker party in this mind game, clearly, but he didn't know how to get out of it without looking weak.

"Enlighten me with the power you have, love. Something you didn't steal." His mind was whirling, but he hid it well.

"I have the power to kill you with nothing but my hands." She paused. "Stunner."

Vallin didn't like this. He was the witty one; he was the one that forced his converser to stumble upon finding out he wasn't the dim brawn he showcased. He took a breath, but she held up her hand to stop him from whatever he was about to say.

"Let me put you out of your misery, love," she said. "I could run circles around you all day, but they have Kapas in the mealroom today, and you know how I feel about those. Your deal with the Queen stands, I'm sure, but unfortunately for you, she doesn't control every Siren, and—we've already gone over this—I'm not one myself, so your deal does not extend to myself nor anyone under my control."

"The Siren Queen doesn't control all Sirens," Vallin repeated. "That's counterintuitive."

She raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. "The land king controls you, then?" she asked.

He was sick of being walked over. "I need to speak with the Queen," he repeated.

"You'll have a hell of a time finding her," she said, "but I could point you in the right direction. I believe she's a few miles west, but Canale drifts, so I'm not sure that would be accurate anymore. You could try and swim in that general direction until you knock into something hard, perhaps."

Vallin's teeth ground. "You like games," he said, attempting to remain calm.

She caught his frustration and latched onto it. "I get that a lot."

"You can't seem to speak one sentence that isn't layered."

She tilted her head. "I like layers. And I like the way a big man like you looks when he's been taken down a few notches."

Vallin fought for his response, but she took pity on him. "We're a resistance," she offered, her steely gaze focused. "We don't operate under the Queen, and we sure as hell don't operate under the King. You or the land one."

Vallin regarded her carefully. "Resistance," he repeated.

She tilted her head and didn't repeat herself.

He took a breath. She was intentionally giving out little pieces of information, ensuring his comprehension was at her mercy—but she was interrogating him, which meant he knew something she didn't.

He leaned back on the desk to give his exhausted body a break. "You lead this resistance, then?" he asked.

"That depends on what you consider leading."

He took a deep breath to ensure he didn't snap out his next words, "Scratch that, then; I don't care who leads it, I just want to know why my ship was caught in the middle."

"Your ship is pretty. I like pretty things."

Laughter bubbled up in his throat, and he pushed it down, fighting for his calm.

"I like your captain's quarters," she continued. "The desk is nice. Mahogany?"

Vallin ground his teeth. "You searched my ship?"

"Of course. I had a nice evening aboard. I have this thing for blankets, and my, my, yours is soft. Nice pillows, too."

"Be careful," Vallin said, just managing to say it without the desperation seeping through. "You won't get anything from me if you don't stop the games."

She regarded him for a long time. Then, finally, "You have something I want."

Vallin didn't have anything of note at this moment, but if she knew that, he'd lose his leverage and therefore his way out. He let a veiled look pass over his face before he said, "What's that?"

She was insightful, of course, but despite the fact that his words were the truth—he didn't know what she wanted—she believed them to be a lie. Insightful she may be, but inexperienced she was also; she was used to catching lies, not used to catching truth disguised as them.

"You're lying, Captain," she noted.

"I could be," he said.

"I need the map, love. You have it. I need it."

Vallin had no clue which map she was talking about, but he didn't have anything desirable at the moment. There must've been a false conclusion drawn here.

"I have a lot of maps," he said.

She leaned forward again, her eyes sparking with interest. "Where is it?"

"Where is what?"

She rose and said softly, "You're wasting my time."

"Funny of you to say such a thing. Why do you need the map?" If he knew what map she was looking for, he could strike a deal. He could get it for her in exchange for his release.

"My interest in the map is unimportant to you," she said.

"Incorrect," Vallin said. "If I'm to give you my map, I want to know what you're going to do with it."

"So you have the map, then."

"Do I?"

She watched him carefully, but he'd played at deception a million times. If he never actually said the lie aloud but rather danced around it, she'd have a harder time reading him.

He waited patiently as she tried to decipher his expression. His heart strummed away in his chest, desperate for the anticipation to be over.

"There are two possible scenarios here," she said, seemingly deciding that he did, in fact, have the map. "It's either hidden on your ship, or it's on you."

Vallin leaned back on the desk again. He crossed his arms. Interesting.

"That leaves you with two options." She took a step closer. "Option one: You tell me where the map is, and I let you out. Option two: You don't tell me where it is, and I get it out of you anyway, then I kill you."

Vallin didn't falter in his expression. "I almost killed you once," he said. "I could do it again."

She held his gaze. "I learn people," she said, "and I've learned you. You like small spaces, places where you can exert strength over skill. You've always been the agile one, so you're ill prepared to deal with someone faster. You're so used to fighting with weapons that you feel bare without them, and that causes a break in your already glass-like confidence. Now, I do have a knife on me, but we'd have to get real personal for you to find it. You had one chance to beat me, when you had me in the hall. You won't get your hands on me again unless it's on my terms."

Vallin lowered his chin. "Should I choose option one, you said you'd let me out."

"I did say that."

"You'd let me out," Vallin repeated. "You'd give me my ship back and shred your copy of the deed?"

"That depends on how cooperative you are. Hand it over now, and you're free to go."

That sounded perfectly nice, but he didn't have a map, and she was probably lying.

"I need proof that you'll let me out," he said.

She rolled her eyes over to the window, as if she were outright admitting he'd called her bluff.

"You're not letting me out," he concluded.

She sighed, glancing back at him.

"You're either a shockingly terrible liar, or that wasn't your lie," he noted.

Her eyes flickered, watching him as he spoke.

"For all your flamboyancy and bravado, you're not the one running the show, are you?" he asked. "You're nothing but a puppet."

She leaned back again, looking at the door, and said, "Turn my loyalty by dividing it first." No thoughts were written on her face, nothing to see from her body language. She looked back at him and said, "I like when you play my games. It's..." She trailed off, searching for the right word, tapping her fingers a little. Finally, she found it, voice amused, "endearing."

Vallin gave her a look. Never once in his life had he been called that, and he suspected she didn't find him to be it, either.

She turned to thedoor, spinning that key in her hand as if she'd grown bored of him. "You thinkon that, love," she said. "I've somewhere to be."