Author's Note 

Please be aware that some of the content in this book is adult material and may be sensitive to some readers. 

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"Minnie's Meats and Meads-- sounds promising," Durward said, flashing a smile at Evie. The girl stared up at the pub with wide eyes. She was sure Cap'n Kelly's was the grimiest inn throughout all of Oren, but this one came close second. The outside was half boarded up, and it looked like the building would collapse at the slightest knock or gust of wind. There were a few whores dangling themselves out front and they looked less than inviting. One was picking her barely-there teeth with a dagger, the other was scratching behind her ear as if she had fleas, and the most comely one was propping a wooden eye back into her socket.

So far Dratsac had proven to be run down-- recovering, but run down nonetheless. When they made port, they were threatened at gunpoint to state their name and business for visiting the region. Durward charmed their way out of it, despite Evie's snapping and foul mouth when they patted her down. At first they weren't allowed to keep their weapons, but Nebula offered a pretty penny and the guards turned a blind eye. If that was the way of things in this country, it would be an expensive trip for them all.

They were in a town called Hoam, ironically named by the New Wave Dratsaci that wished to restore the country to its former glory. So far they eradicated slavery completely, and many of the ogres who were freed went back to their lives as best they could. Some fled, incase Dratsac was ever taken again, but most were too set in their ways to start a new life. One of the elves at the docks had told them about Dratsac's new horizons. He claimed to be one of the original members of the New Wave, having escaped servitude in Ofund and Gruuthar.

"You really think it's necessary to go in there?" Evie asked, hooking her thumbs in her pockets.

"Knowledge is what's necessary," Nebula said, gesturing to the pub. "And there's no better place to find it than with a bunch of drunkards who can't keep their mouths shut."

The three decided to let Kelpie man the ship, in case of any trouble. He wasn't very keen on visiting his homeland in the first place, so he happily accepted the job. Durward and Nebula entered first, Evie right behind, tossing the whores warning glances as they eyed up Lazarus.

Inside was calmer than Cap'n Kelly's, but the stench was paralyzing. It smelled of booze and wet meat and sex. Evie had to hold her breath as long as possible to keep from wretching. There were a collection of species in the bar. Ogres, nymphs, humans, hybrids of all sorts, and elves. She even thought she saw a fairy or two flying around.

In the corner of the bar was an old piano, and a young man-- probably a good ten years her superior-- tickled the keys with a calming melody. He was a deep bronze, with a striking contrast of thick, nearly black hair braided into a cropped ponytail at the back of his head. On either side of his shaved down head, within the faint baldness, tattoos covered his scalp, looking like vines growing from his mane. And down one of his arms, he was completely covered with intricate designes. He looked foolish playing such a dainty melody on the piano, but the light chatter around the room proved that the patrons had no complaints.

Behind the bar, a short, blue man with wispy fins for ears was quickly filling up tankards. He had gils on his neck and his eyes were large and watery. From his gils sprouted thin tubes that connected to a belt of water around his waist. The trio made way toward the bar and squeezed into a tight space between a pair of ogres and a whore who was drinking her sorrows away.

"Excuse me," Evie called to the fish man, waving him over. He looked at her with surprise, and faltered when he did not immediately recognize them. Strolling over, his tubes bubbling and pumping water into his neck, he leaned over the counter towards them.

"Yeth, mith. Can I help you?" he asked, a fat tongue flopping in his mouth.

"Two glasses of whiskey, one of spiced wine," she told him, fumbling with her coin purse at her side. She removed three pieces of gold and nonchalantly slid them over to the man.

His eyes widened at the glimmer of the coin and his hand quickly slid them away from her and into his pocket. He nodded and pulled three glasses from under the bar. He filled each drink and handed them over, in which they hastily swallowed. His eyes flashed to the end of the bar, and he waddled away. Durward nodded and followed, motioning for his companions to stay put.

As her captain whispered with the strange barkeep down a ways, Evie reached over the counter and found a bottle, pulling it back up and filling their glasses. Nebula eyed her with caution.

"Evie, I don't think that's wise," she said, tapping her fingers on the countertop.

"Why? We paid the guy more than enough to drink the whole night." She tossed her whiskey back, and poured another.

"We paid for his discretion and any information he may have to offer us," she said, snatching the bottle from the girl's grasp. She set it back over the bar and took a seat on the stool next to her. "I suggest you learn said discretion and shut up and nurse your drink." The elf looked around the room, seemingly relaxed.

Evie rolled her eyes and leaned against the counter, turning to observe the room. A nymph laid draped across the piano's lid now, and she was battling her lashes at the pianist. Her hair was a swirling slather of pink and orange leaves, and her body, shimmering in the torchlight, glowed under her leafy clothes. Tiny flowers sprouted all over her-- on her shoulders, her wrists, and scattered on her legs.

As she admired the nymph, she caught herself enraptured in the musician's gaze. His eyes were as black as night and they bore into her as she squirmed uncomfortably in her spot. His fingers paused over the keys just for a moment, and then he struck up a haunting tune, never taking his attention from her. The pirate turned back around to Nebula, but kept her mouth shut.

"What do we 'ave here?" a voice from behind asked, close to her ear. Evie swatted at the noise, her hand smacking into a sweaty face.

Her victim was a boy of similar age, smiling brightly at her, rubbing his nose where she had hit him. He was lanky and pale with orange hair that stuck up all over his head. He also had tattoos that covered his neck, chest, and arms.

"Pretty thing, you are," he continued. "What are ya doing all the way out here in Dratsac? And with a weapon? Shouldn't a lady like you be back on the mainland?"

Evie's jaw clenched and she dug her nails into her glass. "I am not a lady," she huffed. Nebula's hand clamped down on her shoulder and she spun the girl around, shaking her head. It was best not to cause a scene here. They'd only been in the town for less than an hour, and it looked like Durward was getting an earful of information.

"Not a lady, eh? That perky arse says otherwise." His hand came down firm on her behind, and Evie jumped, but his grip tightened on her.

The blonde looked at Nebula with pleading eyes, and bit her lip to keep from cursing. The elf sighed and shrugged in reply, giving her permission to deal with the abuser. Evie's arm ensnared his and she used her weight to fling him around and push him up against the bar. Her other hand went to his neck and she squeezed his throat.

The calmness left the atmosphere and the entire inn was up in arms at once. Patrons all around the room were withdrawing weapons and readying themselves for a fight. The pianist played on, but the jingle he played was a much livelier one, as if he found the change in mood amusing. The crude boy lifted a leg and kicked Evie in the pit of her stomach. As she stumbled back, gasping for air, he rubbed his neck and coughed wildly.

"What the hell! You bitch," he hollered, pulling a sword from the sheath on his back. The crowd began to mumble and laugh, and a few even urged the fight on. The boy charged at Evie, but she sidestepped and sent him running into a table.

Her leg was already sweeping his and knocking him to the ground, his sword clattering on the floor. She jumped on him just as he rolled onto his back, and the two of them were at each other's throats-- literally curling their fingers around the other's windpipe. They rolled to the right, and he was on top of her, his hands tightening. Evie choked for air and released his neck, pulling her hands back to launch a quick jab at his cheek. It caught him under the eye, and he staggered just long enough for Evie to push him to the side and straddle him again. She unleashed a series of jabs that connected with his face, though she suffered a few gut punches in return.

Something rough grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her off the boy, dropping her to her backside. Enigma stood over her like a father over his child, ready to give a good beating. Evie shied under his stare and dared not to look him in the eye. The beaten boy scrambled toward her, ready to attack again, but he was halted by the same parental gesture-- the pianist held the boy by the collar with an iron grip. He looked down at Evie with a brow raised, and he tried to hide a smile.

"I apologize sincerely for my colleague's behavior, sir," Durward began, extending a hand out to the musician. "I seem to have made a mistake in bringing her ashore. We mean to cause no trouble," he promised.

"This is a locals only inn," the pianist replied, ignoring Enigma's propriety. "New Wave only."

Evie began to stand but Durward pushed her back down by the crown of her head. The two fighters looked like dogs sitting by the flanks of their masters, snarling at each other. It was embarrassing to say the least.

"I understand. We will leave as soon as we finish conducting our business in Hoam," the satyr replied with a bow of his head.

"Business?" the man replied. He shoved his friend aside and watched him struggle to his feet, holding his bloody nose. "If you're doing any business in Hoam, I'm the one you should be talking to."

Evie tried to stand again and Durward denied her the privilege, his hand planted on top of her head. She huffed. "Then we have matters to discuss, sir," Durward insisted. "Perhaps in a more private setting."

The stranger crouched down to eye-level with Evie and laughed at her. "In private would certainly be better, considering this lot's temper." He winked at her before standing back up. "Marty, I'm taking off for the night," he called to the barkeep. The fishy man saluted him in response and started filling drinks again.

Crowds of ogres and nymphs went back to their chatter and an elf took up the keys, playing a lively tune that made the place seem more like a true pub. The pianist and his bloody friend started toward the door, waving for Enigma to follow. Durward scowled at Nebula as she walked up to them.

"Why didn't you stop this?" he growled at his first mate.

Nebula set her hands on her hips. "You wouldn't understand. You're not a woman. Believe me, there would've been no stopping her anyway," she said with a shrug at his contempt.

They followed the strangers out, dragging Evie along behind like an infant. Outside the cool night air of Dratsac was welcome. All day they had sat under the blistering sun, and they were beginning to feel its effects as the hours went on. From port it was an hour ride by horse, and nearly three by foot. And because none of them were good riders, they walked.

They followed the men around to the stables where a band of young men were atop their steeds, laughing and joking with goblets and tankards in their fists. Some of them were lying drunk in the hay and others were wrestling. None of them looked the same, except for the array of tattoos they had on themselves-- a few were covered from head to toe, the rest just down their arms or legs. But the pianist, who seemed to be the leader, was the only one who had tattoos on his scalp beneath his hair. But she noticed the group was solely human.

When the pirates approached, most of the boys paid no mind, except for one with curly orange locks-- when he saw them, he bursted into tears of laughter.

"Rickshaw, what in Fastrever happened to you?" he hooted, holding his bouncing plump stomach.

"Ah, shut it Irwin," he snapped back, pinching the bridge of his nose and holding his head back.

"Was it the goat man?" another called, joining in on the laughter.

"The bitch with the axe--" he mumbled, flopping down on some hay.

The pianist held his arms out to his men. "Gentlemen, we have guests," he announced. He looked at Enigma and his companions. "These are the Black Brothers. They're my men. And we handle business here in Dratsac. For a price, of course."

Evie rolled her eyes and reached for her weapon. "You're sellswords, you mean," she spat.

"And you're pirates," he retorted, his hand running over a pistol at his hip. "Seems we're not much different."

"Yours is a dirty business. The Hollow Rovers aren't like you--"

"Quiet," Enigma ordered her at once. "You've caused enough trouble for one night, don't you think?Evie shut up and turned her back on him, staring off into the treeline. "My name is Captain Durward Enigma. This is my first mate, Nebula. The troublemaker is named Evie." He introduced each of them with a nod in their direction. Nebula bowed her head and Evie stayed stubbornly off to the side, eyes drifting to anything but her crewmate and captain. "And who may you be?"

"Ethan Black," he replied, bending at the waist in a mock bow.

Evie laughed aloud, shaking her head. Ethan Black... Black Brothers... how original. We've got a child of Ilia on our hands here, she thought to herself. She turned his way to disobey Enigma and shoot a jest at the man, but he was but inches from her already. Evie winced, her head racing. She took a step back but he was in tune with her every movement, and the distance between them never opened.

He was smiling though, a half smile that showed his broad features-- his hard jawline that was dusted with stubble and a thick beard hanging off his chin, his dark brows that hooded his mysterious, yet playful, eyes. She could see his tattoos now on either side of his head under his hair, and the patterns were nonspecific, just winding and jagged lines that somehow resembled winding roads or criss-crossed vines with thorns and flowers budding from every which way.

"I bet..." he began to whisper. "I bet you were laughing at my name," he breathed. His voice was smooth and his breath smelled like wine. Evie shuddered under his stare and her eyes flashed to Durward who stood by stiffly, careful in his actions. "What's really funny though, is your name. A traitor's name is infamous, Miss Knox," he chuckled. He flicked the space between her eyes and backed away from her, leaving her dazed and rubbing the spot.

"You know matters of the sea?" Nebula chimed in, curious.

Ethan nodded. "Mercenaries work for everyone, even pirates. We hear all the gossip that your lifestyle is so gracious to offer. It's my job to know things," he replied, folding his arms. "And I suspect you're here looking for Queen Alse."

Durward nearly knockd Evie over in order to grab the boy's attention. "She is here then?" he urged.

"She passed through Hoam a few days ago by horseback. She was accompanied by a man she met at the inn. They seemed to know one another well enough. I didn't know who it was til it was too late. She woulda fetched a pretty penny."

"She's not to be harmed," Enigma threatened. "I'll pay you nicely enough to help us navigate through Dratsac to find her."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said why? What's so important about her? I wanna know why I'm doing a job before I do it."

Now the band of young men were all quiet, watching intently on the scene that played out. Evie was impressed by Ethan's disregard for authority-- he had his own command, and he didn't let the presence of anyone else diminish it-- foolish as it may be. Captain Enigma was visibly getting annoyed, though Evie had wondered why the queen was such an asset to them. When Durward refused to answer, Ethan sighed and held both his hands up. "Alright, alright. You don't have to tell me, but me and mine get paid for the job either way," he said, spitting his palm and stretching it out to the satyr.

Durward took it and shook promptly, then quickly wiped away the saliva on his coat. Evie felt wary about traveling with the Brothers, especially since they were no longer on familiar ground-- or sea, rather. The men were already getting themselves ready to move, most likely at the mention of payment. Bows looked to be their weapon of choice, since there were quivers strapped to every horse.

"We don't have enough mounts, and I guess you don't have your own. Best we double up then," Ethan said, stepping into his horse's stirrup. The beast he rode was annoyingly ironic-- its mane was black and braided like his, but its shiny hair was a deep set coal that looked glorious in the moonlight. "Men, make arrangements." He whistled briskly and rounded a finger in the air.

The boy named Irwin was the first to dismount, and he walked his steed over to Enigma. "I'll ride with me brother. You can have him. His name's Thistle," he said, handing over the reigns. He went back to Rickshaw, who was preparing for their ride.

One other gave up their steed, and it was a very young lad-- younger even than Evie-- who looked like he had no business riding with these ragabonds. He walked a white, whinnying pony over to Nebula and quickly released her, looking sad to be leaving the creature.

Durward mounted, and Nebula and Evie shared the white pony. Riding horseback was one of the few things pirates hated; it was uncomfortable and impossible to fight sitting up so high. They valued the ability to move swiftly on their feet and be at level with their opponents. But the trio did their best to hide their contempt of the animals so to not show any weakness in the coming journey.

"How long will we ride for tonight?" Nebula called ahead once Evie was wrapped tightly at her back.

Ethan whistled again and they fell into an order, with the Black Brothers behind their guests. "We'll only ride a few hours and then make camp. My men are too drunk and they'll expire soon, I'm sure. Best to start the journey with a clear head in the morning."

Durward rode close at Ethan's heels. He looked awkward, but not because of his lower half; he was visibly anxious and didn't have his usual alertness to him. He was distracted. Nebula, however, was a skilled rider, and she stayed near to her captain's horse. Elves were naturally tall, and their long limbs and good posture made riding easy. But Evie hugged her back like some inexperienced twit, afraid to fall off were they to take the wrong step.

The boys behind her struck up a song about an hour or so into the ride, and their slurred words were followed by hollow chuckles and yelling. A few played word games, and Evie was almost tempted to join in to keep her mind off of her aching backside. Ethan would look back now and then, muttering to Durward about their surroundings, though the satyr was hardly listening. The leader even looked over his shoulder at Evie once or twice, and half smiled.

Evie listened to their talk of conquests among women, games of dice, and drinking competitions-- sometimes they mentioned kills, and she was shocked to learn that they kept count. Evie couldn't even begin to recall the amount of men she cut down, nor did she want to. She knew it was a simple part of life, that men were born into their positions and they couldn't help it if they were a noble, or a pirate, or a slave. The only thing a man could control, was if he lived or died. Then he'd move on to Fastrever when his time was done. After that, it was up to Ushuros to decide whether or not he wanted to send you back to the realm of the living or keep you in his pits. In the end, the number of kills you had wouldn't prove useful-- they all ended up in the same place.

They stopped in a grove, which Ethan and the boys were familiar with. They made quick work of their saddles and began to hang lines from tree to tree, draping long curtains over the lines to serve as tents. Rockshaw and Irwin started on a fire, and Ethan sent a small group of sober hunters after what would serve as breakfast in a few hours. Durward took both of the horses they borrowed and tied them up where he meant to make his camp.

Of what little supply they had, it was apparent that they'd have yet another favor to ask of Ethan. Nebula slipped some of the Black Brothers some coppers to surrender some blankets and some line to fashiona tent of their own. By the time the three pirates got themselves set up, another hour had gone by. Irwin was gracious enough to instruct them after watching them struggle for so long. This was embarrassing for them, to look so inexperienced. But none of The Hollow Rovers ever had need to camp or use the lay of the land-- other than when hunting in The Wilds-- but they were masters at sea.

Captain Enigma retired with Nebula right away, warning Evie to mind herself around the ruffians. He was cold and short with her, and barely looked her way when he climbed into his tent. It hurt, slightly, since she was so used to being doted on by him her entire life. The happy and warm man who offered her such solace after each abandonment in her life was gone since they visited the witch.

Evie lingered by the fire, which was large enough to fit more than twenty men around its entirety, and kicked twigs into the flames with her boot as she rocked back and forth on a log. She had ripped the sleeved from her shirt, and the top buttons as well. Sweat trickled down her neck and arms from the blazing heat, soaking her leather vest. She grabbed a handful of hair and tied it up with a bandana from her back pocket, pulling every strand from her face to avoid any sticky discomfort.

The drunk Brothers began to pass out one by one, but a huddle of them still remained on the opposite side of the fire, munching on leaves and finishing their flasks. They were fond of singing, and their tunes were ones she'd never heard before-- possibly the old folk songs of Dratsac that had been lost to the rest of Oren.

Her thoughts lingered back to her father, wondering if he would've liked this place. Nebula said once that Kristo was fond of adventure, and even wanted to travel to the worst places. He'd made a map once, of all the places he wanted to visit, but tossed it overboard the day her mother left.

The crackle of the fire was mesmerizing, so much so, that she didn't hear Ethan approach her. He sat a few feet away, a stump becoming his throne. Evie watched him warily from the corner of her eye, and he watched her in return with ease. They sat without a word for a few minutes, their attention focused on the rambling from the other side of the fire, but Ethan inched closer to her.

"Not an outdoorsman are ya?" he asked lightly.

She craned her neck to look at him, his features flickering against the fire. "Not very good at choosing names for your crew, are ya?" she asked slyly in reply.

He did it then, the half smile. But it was different than before-- it was somehow more friendly and less menacing or mocking. He took a knife from his boot and pointed it at her legs. "I could cut your trousers, so you won't sweat so badly," he offered, his eyes scanning her figure.

"I'd rather you cut your friend's ego in half, so he would quit staring at me," she replied, jerking her head toward the group across from them. Rickshaw was brooding, still rubbing his sorely bruised nose, and staring at Evie with a hatred.

"I think you did enough damage," he laughed. He scooted closer. "He's okay, when he's not drinking. Ale gives him a nasty memory of his lost love, so he takes it out on undeserving girls." He tucked his knife back into his boot and removed a small wooden flute from the other. He blew into it, playing a cheerful couple of notes.

"That's stupid," Evie said, sinking down off the log and sitting on the ground.

"What is?" Ethan asked between notes.

"Changing who you are and how you treat people for love."

Ethan sighed. "And how old are you? How would you know?"

"I'm nineteen years. And I know because letting people change you is a weakness," she retorted, rolling her eyes. She picked up a stone and tossed it at the fire.

"Well I've seen twenty seven years and that makes me smarter than you. And I say love is divine," he challenged. He was like a child. It was annoying that he actually had the gall to argue with her over something so trivial.

"What kind of mercenary are you? Playing pianos and flutes and talking of love. You sound like a girl," she said, shifting away from him.

Ethan bit his lower lip and chucked the flute into the flames. "I'm one who hasn't lost my true self to this war. I do the things I enjoy and discard them all the same. I'm living the way I was intended to... fully." He grabbed her ankle and drug her closer to him. When Evie tried to object, he flicked her again, this time on the nose. "I'm trying to get to know my employers and you're making it difficult," he scolded.

"Captain Enigma is your employer. I hold nothing for you, sellsword," she said, shoving her hand into his side.

He caught her hand and chuckled. "What is wrong with you Miss Knox? Who went and damaged you?"

She could feel her ears heating and she snatched her hand away. "When you've watched both of your parents abandon you, ya tend to get a little bitter," she snapped. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

"Yada yada, your parents were traitors. We know that. Surprised these blasted pirates didn't hang you for their crimes--"

"Stop it," she cut off. "The Hollow Rovers are my family. Captain Enigma and Nebula and the others would never hurt me. And they'd never let someone else hurt me."

"Well what if they're not around? Who's to keep you safe then?" he asked, a brow raised.

"I will, or I'll die trying," she whispered, staring into the flames. For a moment, she thought she saw Myles in the orange and red, but the image was replaced with Captain Chaos' malicious grin. Evie closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Ethan edged closer even more, his arm rock solid against hers. She made no move to deflect him this time; she knew her efforts would only fail. He leaned in beside her, his lips close to her ear.

"Yeah, I see that fight in you," he said. He sounded like he was about to speak again, but they were interrupted by the sound of hooves behind them.

"Evie, I said not to bother these men," Durward boomed from overhead. "Get into the tent, now."

The girl huffed and pushed herself to her feet. I don't like this Enigma at all, she thought. She trudged away from the fire, the clomping of hooves just on her heels. She ducked into the tent where Nebula laid peacefully, her long white hair sprawled across a flattened pillow. The elf slept so soundly she almost could pass for a corpse, though she was much more beautiful than a decaying body.

Evie threw herself onto the blanket beside Nebula and she pulled off her boots. Durward entered immediately after, his eyes stabbing her. She averted her gaze to avoid a lecture and tossed her boots at him. They bounced off his legs and fell to the floor. She ripped her vest off and threw that his way as well. He dodged it and fell down beside her on another blanket. The two of them huffed and turned away from each other, the tension suffocating in their small space.

"Good night Evelyn," he said gruffly.

Evie scoffed and grumbled some profanities. "If you think for one second you can start acting like my father now, you're wrong."