“I will tell you how I came to this place as we agreed. I was fishing off the coast of Chalois when my ship was taken by thieves. The day was windy, and a fog had settled in. Sunlight spilled through the haze in rays.” His thumb played across the side of her hand. “I remember thinking I could take them all, that I could bludgeon them and toss them over the ship’s side into the sea.” He frowned, his eyes distant for a moment. “But I was wrong. There were so many of them. At least thirty men.”

His free hand curled around her waist. For a moment, she panicked. He could hurt her if he wanted to-even imprisoned as he was. She sucked in a tight breath. Gunnar urged her closer until her body pressed against the cell bars. His hand massaged her lower back while he kept spinning his tale. Each circle warmed her more than before.

“I fought hard and well, and I did offer many to the water goddess, but they soon overcame me, and even with my magic, I couldn’t escape.”

Hessa frowned. “Magic?”

He nodded, his eyes fixating on her mouth. “Yes, magic. Old magic. Passed down by blood from my ancestors. I’m an air singer. That’s why they came for me. Omi House pays high for magical breeders…especially those that survive the pit fighting. High enough that they seek out others of my kind no matter how far they must travel or what they must face.”

She knew what he said was true. Many a priest from the neighboring city of Shan-Sei had been stolen or at the least, seduced in the hopes of a child with magical abilities to be raised in an assassin guild. But she had never heard of an air singer.

He went on, leaving her no time to ask what he meant. “They bound my hands in slip-rope so that I couldn’t escape.