"I... I won't tell anyone," Shinaz hastily promised. "Injuries from fights happen all the time, don't they? My sisters often tear at each other over mermen... sir?" Her peripheral vision had already caught sight of the rope. "Sir, what are you planning?" She instinctively began crawling toward the door, but the moment her fingers nearly touched the bolt, a prickle of dread raced across her scalp. "No, sir! Please don't hurt me!" The mermaid flailed her arms and slapped her tail-fins against the floor, but she was no match for Bryce's powerful grip. He slammed her back down, pinned her with a knee between her shoulder blades, and bound her wrists without meeting any meaningful resistance.

  "Please don't harm me, sir..." She was weeping now, her wet lashes pressed against the wooden planks. "I can help you dispose of the body—take him to the depths, let... let the large fish devour him!" The rope tightened, making her gasp in pain. "I only beg you—spare me..."

  The killer hauled her up and dragged her back to the foot of the bed, propping her beside Old Fisher. Shinaz's eyes were crimson with tears, her hair stuck to her lips. Bryce Banhart pulled a stool over and sat before her. "You're crying," he observed. "For some reason, I find I prefer your tears to your smile."

  "Do you?" The mermaid detected no murderous intent in his tone and believed herself reprieved; a smile flashed across her face—only to vanish an instant later. "Then I'll cry for you, sir. I'll weep. I won't smile."

  The assassin lowered his head and ran fingers through his hair. He sighed deeply at the white strands caught between his fingers.

  The mermaid sobbed. Shinaz had always been quick to laugh, eternally optimistic, which made her current attempt at feigned weeping rather unconvincing. "Sir, I promise I won't attempt to flee or resist," she said in a voice so tender it invited compassion. "Could you please untie me? My wrists... they're in such pain."

  Bryce silently refused. He was contemplating what to do with this mermaid. He rarely killed women—only when absolutely necessary. Though Bryce Banhart possessed all the cunning, cruelty, and malice befitting an assassin, he took no pleasure in slaying women, children, or the elderly. Such targets, to him, were akin to invalids. He disliked killing the weak. He preferred the strong—enjoyed breaking the strong.

  Even in this brief interval, Shinaz was frantically formulating a strategy. The man before her seemed emotionally volatile, difficult to reach. Nevertheless, she decided to engage him in conversation, hoping to defuse his tension. Her sister Lumbania had once been captured by pirates while singing on a reef, but had ultimately persuaded a sailor through words alone, promising to bear him many offspring, and thus won her freedom back to the sea. "What caused your quarrel with him?"

  Bryce completely ignored her. Seeing her first attempt at dialogue rebuffed, the mermaid lowered her head in disappointment. Quickly, she conceived another plan—albeit risky. Perhaps I should provoke his anger, she thought. She bit her lip. Rage, however dangerous, was preferable to indifference.

  "You still haven't explained what happened with your faces," she said, adopting a haughtier tone that slightly stirred Bryce's attention. "Did you exchange faces somehow?" The killer raised his head—deliberately, slowly—his gaze saturated with menace. "I'm merely speculating, sir," Shinaz wilted beneath his threatening stare. "But I noticed your original face is now on his body... and his face appears to be on yours. Is that correct?"

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  Contrary to her expectations, Bryce affirmed it.

  "Why do such a thing?" Evidently, the purpose concerned her more than the method. "You wish to become... that old man?"

  "Precisely." The killer regarded her with newfound interest and decided, for the moment, to spare her life. He wanted to discover how far her deductions would reach—and what satisfaction he might derive from the exchange.

  "But why?" Bryce Banhart merely shrugged.

  "You possess some form of magic," she stated with certainty. "Who exactly is this old man?"

  "Old Fisher."

  "Oh! Oh!" Shinaz exclaimed. "I've heard of him—truly I have. They say he was the first person to journey alone from Bellita across Kulen Mountain to Cynthia. I recognize that name." Her expression brightened. "Though I fail to understand what benefit his identity offers you."

  "Where did you hear about him?" Bryce hadn't anticipated Old Fisher's reputation would extend so far; this could potentially complicate his mission. "Tell me everything. Leave nothing out."

  "Untie me first, won't you?" she said playfully. The assassin drew his knife and idly toyed with it.

  "I overheard it purely by chance—you must believe me." The mermaid moistened her lips. "Initially from my sister. She didn't mention his name specifically, but recounted that while swimming near Bellita, she encountered a fleet. She deliberately approached to attract the sailors' attention and overheard their conversation—they were discussing the need to find someone in Bellita capable of guiding them across Kulen Mountain. Later, while resting at the pier one day, I happened to overhear two men talking. They mentioned either Kulen Mountain or Cynthia, I believe. One stated that only a single person in the entire village could traverse Kulen to reach Cynthia unaccompanied. That's when I heard his name."

  Bryce's grip tightened around the knife hilt.

  "Would you like me to elaborate further?" The mermaid smiled. "But I'd prefer if you untied me first. My wrists are truly suffering." All she observed was his rising to his feet. "Sir?"

  The assassin approached her. Initially she recoiled, certain he'd made his decision. Then she reconsidered: He intends to release me. She forced a smile and extended her fins slightly. "Thank you, sir..."

  The cold blade pressed against her collarbone.

  The light vanished from her pale green eyes. "Why...?" Her gills fluttered erratically; she choked on her words. "Weren't you planning to spare me?"

  "Don't play the fool, mermaid. You were listening in on my conversation with Old Fisher this afternoon."

  After two deep breaths, Shinaz nodded in resignation.

  "Faster than I expected," Bryce murmured. "You are sharper than I gave you credit for."

  "What?" She was adrift in confusion, tears streaming down her face. "The truth." For a fleeting moment, Shinaz Morkachka's mind went completely blank.

  "...You intend to be the guide."

  He brought his lips close to her ear. "Yes."

  "...That fleet... it was the Shahani Navy."

  "Yes." His nose grazed her earlobe.

  The mermaid closed her eyes. "You serve Godma."

  "You could say that." His attention shifted to her throat, to the three delicate gill-slits. His lips pressed against them; to his surprise, a mermaid's gills were unexpectedly warm and supple. "So, you are going to kill me now.”

  "Yes."