Don’t look at him, I tell myself. Focus on the clothes. Not what lies beneath.

I undress him. Every last article of clothing. I leave him lying naked on the bed while I search through every pocket, check for hidden linings, a fake sole in his boots.

But it’s …

Not here.

My stomach sinks. How can it not be here? I was so sure. I was desperately counting on it. Now what am I to do once he wakes? He’ll know I conked him. He’ll know I used him for something. And he will not be happy.

And then we’ll soon reach my father. And he’ll—

No, I have to stop that line of thinking at once. It’ll do me no good. I must keep my mind firmly in the present. How can I fix this?

Singing Draxen into forgetfulness isn’t an option. I haven’t enough song left to erase his memories. Fiddling with memories takes more than putting men to sleep.

I’ve made a fine mess of things. Seduce Draxen? That has to be my worst idea yet.

I have to cover my mouth to keep from grunting out in frustration.

Suddenly, there’s banging at the door.

“Draxen!” It’s Riden. “Open up now or I’m coming in.”

I hear the handle unlatching, so I race to the door. As it opens, I climb out and shut it behind me before Riden can see inside.

“What is going on?” he asks.

“Your brother was telling me about the constellations,” I say.

Riden’s eyes widen. This must be a usual play for Draxen. “He didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?” I ask.

“You didn’t let him…” He can’t get it out.

“Riden, we were hardly in there for two minutes.”

He shakes his head. “Of course. But what’s he doing now, then?” His eyes widen. “Tell me you didn’t kill him!”

While I’m flattered he knows I’m easily capable of killing Draxen, I still roll my eyes. “I didn’t kill him.”

“Then why isn’t he yelling and swearing?”

Fair point, that. I’ll have to throw in a bit of honesty if I’m to get out of this one. “He was getting too handsy, so I knocked him out.”

Riden relaxes a bit. I find it humorous that he isn’t offended or worried I knocked out his brother. He eyes the door.

He absolutely cannot go in there. I can’t explain why Draxen’s naked if I didn’t bed him, and, well, I don’t want Riden thinking I bedded him.

“What is going on, Alosa? Why did you go in there in the first place?”

We need to get away from here. Right now. I don’t know how much time I have before Draxen wakes.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” I ask. “Back in your room, maybe? I’ll answer all your questions. It’s cold out here.”

He still eyes me suspiciously, but he finally consents, weaving the way back toward his room. There’s extra force in his strides. Riden leaps onto the main deck, not bothering with the stairs. The night watchmen turn their heads to see the cause of the racket. When Riden wrenches open the door to his room, I can’t help but smile. He’s in a mood.

But my amusement vanishes almost instantly. I have a big problem. It’s taking everything I have not to panic. Maybe I should go back and kill Draxen. When he wakes up, everything will go to hell anyway. And Draxen deserves to die.

I’m just not sure I could do that to Riden. For reasons I can’t explain, he loves his brother. I think he would be devastated at his death. Maybe even broken.

But what other choice do I have? Where else could the map possibly be? If it’s not on the ship and Draxen doesn’t carry it on his person—

I’m staring at Riden’s back when it hits.

What if Riden has it?

After I searched Draxen’s room on the first night of my capture, my next thought was that he might’ve given the map to Riden to hide. But what if Riden hides it on his person? How could I be so slow? I’ve had ample opportunities to check Riden for it. On the night I sang him to sleep, not even a hurricane could have woken him.

Now I suppose I’ll have to knock him out like I did Draxen. I can’t really do any more harm now, can I? I’ve already sabotaged the mission. Or perhaps not. Maybe when Draxen wakes, he’ll do no more than put me back in my cell. But I doubt it.

When we’re alone, Riden stands expectantly, arms crossed. As soon as I knocked Draxen out, I released the siren part of me. It takes its toll on my mind after a while. It’s hard to explain, but I lose myself in others if I’m focused on their feelings and desires for too long. They start to become my own, and I forget who I am. It’s terrifying. Father would push me, help me understand how long I can endure being consumed in others before I start to become like them. I’ve never allowed myself to pass my breaking point since then.

If that weren’t enough, I have to deal with the short-term side effects as well, the feelings of otherworldliness. I hate the desires and emotions that are as clear to me as paint on a canvas. They’re not mine, and I don’t like feeling them, sensing them. Besides, I don’t need to read Riden. I just have to be careful because he’s already suspicious and confused. If I’m to get the drop on him, I’ll first need to get him to relax, to talk. I’ll need to give him lies mixed with truths.

“I’m worried, Riden,” I start. “My father—he may seem as if he cares for me, as if he’s eager to have me back in exchange for a ransom, but he’ll be furious with me.”

“Why?” he asks.

“For getting caught in the first place. He’ll think me careless and stupid. And he’ll rage about the money he lost as a result. I—I don’t know what he’ll do to me once he gets me back.”

Riden glances down at my legs, no doubt remembering the scars he once saw there. “I can believe that, but what was with all of that?” He jerks his thumb in the direction of the deck. His face hardens.

“I was trying to get Draxen’s attention. I needed to speak with him about it. I thought maybe we could work something out. Find a way for him to get his money and for me to be set free.”

“And?”

“Draxen wasn’t interested in talking.”

Riden winces at that. He puts his hand up to his face, scratches the back of his head. “I’ll speak to him.”