Page 45 of Stealing Tink

“Is that what you’re upset about then? That I know you?”

The Nomad watches me carefully before folding his hands in front of him and speaking. “If I knew of another who I was confident could heal your wings without mangling them or causing further damage, believe me, I would have gone to them. As I’m sure you’ve surmised, Lars can be rather difficult to work with. And that’s putting it politely. Not to mention, he makes a dreadful dinner guest. But as it stands, he’s not only a genius, but steady enough with his hands that you don’t have to worry about suffering unnecessary nerve damage. And if I’m remembering correctly, I gave you the option to say no.”

Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that you use what others have lost to get what you want.

“Like you did with Acel?”

When I don’t answer, he cocks his head to the side.

“That’s what I thought.”

I saved Acel from public shame and offered him the opportunity to be eligible to marry the woman he loves.

“Which conveniently benefits you,” says the Nomad. “Would you help him steal from a Fate’s lair if it didn’t?”

I shove the quill and pad back into my pockets and make for the door.

I already have a foot in the hallway when from behind me I hear, “You’re right about one thing. I do know you.”

CHAPTER 20

“Now that we’re all together, it’s time for introductions,” says the Nomad.

We’re all gathered in the dining hall of the ship, the one the Nomad uses for what he referred to as important meetings with important people.

That all sounded a tad pretentious to me, and I couldn’t help but wonder which high-ranking government officials of the world consorted with a criminal like the Nomad.

“You’d be impressed,” he’d said with a flash of his teeth.

Tonight, we’d feasted on roasted pheasant, drizzled with a hot peppered sauce over a plate of rice and greens. It had been a hot dish, both in taste and spice level, and my stomach still feels the pleasant warmth as an aftermath.

“Some of you have met already,” says the Nomad, who is seated at the head of the table. He’d offered me the spot next to him, but I had declined and chosen to sit next to Acel instead, who had taken the Nomad’s left hand. Lars had taken what was meant to be my seat, and Venus, sparing one look at Lars and deciding I was the lesser of two evils, had chosen to sit beside me. Phoenix had just rolled her eyes and taken the seat next to Lars, though she immediately appeared to regret it. “But I thought it would be good if we spent some extra time getting to know one another.”

“That seems unnecessary,” says Phoenix.

The Nomad’s smile is only that in technicality. “These things tend to go smoother when the crew gets along.”

“And I can already tell you that the more I get to know about him”—Phoenix angles her head toward Lars—“the less we’re going to get along.”

Earlier I’d overheard Lars prattling on to Phoenix about how trafficking might be unethical, but it does serve as an undercurrent to the world’s economy whether we like it or not.

The Nomad takes one look at Lars, looks as if he’s trying to consider how to defend him, then quickly abandons all hope and turns to Acel. “Why don’t we start with you?”

“No,” says Acel. He crosses his arms for good measure.

The Nomad’s eyes practically skip over Venus.

“Wanderer?”

Thankfully the Nomad already taught me the perfect sign for this one. I go to sign “no,” but before I can, Venus snorts.

My hands freeze, my blood running cold.

“Do you have something to say?” asks the Nomad.

Venus pauses, her lips sporting an open-mouthed smile. When she starts speaking, her voice is sickeningly sweet. “I just don’t know that we have the time for Tink’s entire life story. That’s all.”

Acel clears his throat.