o40

Bargaining Chip

The archers didn’t shoot her, which was the only relief.

Hei wasn’t any less terrified when the silence of the night was broken by quiet whispers and commands, all of which she couldn’t hear. She stood quietly on the ice, waiting for something, scared of what could happen. She tucked her hands into Baekhyun’s coat, the only assurance and only ward against the cold the ice cast. When she looked up, the man who had created the ice had disappeared. The archers still had their bows trained on her, but a couple had loosened their form, bows already dipping.

She couldn’t quite make anybody out in the dim light, barely visible apart from the faint lanterns swinging on the helm, but Jungwoo’s tall frame appeared, his black clothing bleeding into the night, and paused at the railing of his ship.

Hei forced herself to meet his gaze. There was a small tinge of satisfaction at the way his eyes widened, like he knew that she must’ve used her power to get there when it shouldn’t have been possible either way.

A small group of people fanned around Jungwoo, and Hei tried to count how many there were. He motioned silently towards her before turning around.

Hei stood still, teeth chattering—the night air was a lot more biting than she had expected, and the ice stole what was left of the warmth. She glanced back at the ship one more time, just hundreds of meters away, yet so far. She didn’t dare try to call her power again, fearful that Jungwoo would know. She was there to bargain. Nothing else.

In less than thirty seconds, Jungwoo had descended down a ladder on the side of the ship. Hei swallowed thickly.

He stood a couple of feet in front of her, eyeing her warily like he was trying to figure if she were up to something. Finally, Jungwoo stepped forward. “Why are you here?” he asked.

Jungwoo. If he hadn’t been there, Junsu wouldn’t have been able to do half of what he had done, Hei knew. She scanned him, then pressed her lips together. It wasn’t hard to look scared when she felt terrified. Still, she straightened. “I want to talk to Junsu,” she said quietly. “I think I know why he’s doing this. I have another solution.”

Jungwoo’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t look the least bit surprised, just inclined his head at the ship in the middle. “I’ll take you to his cabin,” he said, before he gestured at the ladder up. “Please.”
 

Perhaps it was a misjudgement. Perhaps Jungwoo hadn’t really hesitated that day when she thought he had, and perhaps he was, like Junsu, unredeemable. Perhaps she had no shot at a solution at all, and she was only delaying (or if the worst came to the worst, hurrying) the inevitable. Whatever it was, Hei didn’t let herself dwell on it. For the moment, she needed to be the exact person Junsu wanted to see her as. If she gambled it all correctly—if he hated his father as much as he seemed to, if Jinqiong was right that his flaw was arrogance—then perhaps.

Hands shaking around the freezing metal rungs of the ladder, Hei headed up, Jungwoo close behind her. She was still shivering by the time she reached the deck, and Hei wasn’t sure if it was because she was scared or cold. Or maybe both.

The man with ice magic was back on his place near the railing, watching their ship. Hei wondered how long it would be before everyone figured she would be back. Baekhyun had promised at least an hour. It would hopefully be enough to stall.

Hei nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the figure standing half in the shadows. Jungwoo climbed soundlessly onto the deck behind her, and she stared at Junsu, who stepped out of the shadows, moving surprisingly quiet despite his golden armour. On his side hung the whip, and Hei could almost swear the wounds on her back hurt looking at it.

She couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but she was pretty sure he was smiling under his mask. “Song Hei,” he said.

The fear must’ve been obvious, and also very, very real. She pressed her lips together.

“I want to talk,” she said quietly for what felt like the hundredth time. “I believe there’s another way to end this.”

Hei was too aware of Jungwoo’s gaze on her back, piercing and probing, most likely wary. She tried to ignore him. If Junsu was even a bit suspicious about why she was there…

He didn’t seem so that moment, though, but only gave her a sharp, predatory grin. “Well,” he said. “Why don’t we discuss this in my cabin?” 

***

The alcohol was nowhere to be found when Jinqiong attempted to search for it, and she definitely wasn’t going to ask Jongdae for it. So, after forever of practicing her power with him and a small bite of food and searching the cellar in vain, she left the mess hall to return to her cabin. Jongdae had returned approximately thirty minutes ago, and Jinqiong had been too proud to go with him.

Byun Baekhyun intercepted her before she even made it to the door. He was still wearing pajamas, hair tousled, and apparently hadn’t thought about putting his shoes on. Jinqiong opened to say something about the fact that he really shouldn’t have been there in such a state (although she couldn’t quite bring herself to get the words out) when he demanded, “Where’s Hei?”
 

Jinqiong frowned. “Shouldn’t you be the one who knows where she is?” she replied.

Baekhyun’s eyes were wide with panic. “No,” he said. “She wasn’t there when I woke up. I checked with Jongdae. She’s not below-deck either. I thought she’d be in the mess hall.”

Jinqiong stared at him, horror uncoiling in her stomach. “She should be somewhere,” she said weakly. “Jongdae’s cabin. Or mine. Or Yuxuan’s. She—”

“I checked all of them,” Baekhyun replied thickly. “She’s not anywhere.”

All of a sudden, all Jinqiong could think of was Hei’s probing questions as they discussed about Junsu’s, the dismissals she’d given them when someone had asked a little too much. All of them had brushed it off as nothing. No one had a plan, and it wasn’t as if Hei would suddenly have a plan—

“I’ve been here for hours,” Jinqiong told Baekhyun, though her whole mouth felt dry. “No one’s been here. She won’t be here right now.”

Baekhyun swore, voice shaking, then turned sharply on his heel the other way and stormed out of the mess hall. Jinqiong had a feeling where Hei was, but Baekhyun tore the door to below deck again, yelling at Chanyeol to sound the alarm, before rushing down the stairs.

Jinqiong had to stand in shocked silence for a good twenty seconds before gathering her bearings.

It was Jongdae that came up the stairs first, frowning. He spotted her immediately at the side and rushed over. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Someone just rung…”

“Hei’s missing,” she said quietly.

Jongdae stared at her with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t tell whether or not she were lying anymore. He opened his mouth, snapped it shut, then shook his head. “She’s gone?”

“Baekhyun said she’s not in the cabin,” Jinqiong replied tersely. She glanced at the distance, where Junsu’s ships were. She couldn’t see enough in the dark, and the only thing visible so far off was the slight flicker of light. There was no sign of Hei anywhere. Perhaps she’d gone to find Taeyong, or perhaps—

Footsteps thudded up the staircase again, and this time, Baekhyun and half the crew came up with him. Luhan said something quietly to him (although Baekhyun barely looked like he heard him) before starting down the stairs again. The rest remained silent.

Baekhyun’s eyes were dark when he turned his gaze to her. “Well?” he asked.

Jinqiong pressed her lips together. “She’s not here.”

“Did you even look?”

Jongdae took a small step forward. “Baekhyun,” he warned.

Baekhyun ignored him. “Stop standing there,” he snapped at both of them instead, “look for her, goddammit!”

Jongdae looked like he was going to say something back, but Baekhyun had his heel again and headed for the helm. Jinqiong didn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t as if he’d find Hei anywhere there.

She started to move after Baekhyun, already having thought of an infinite amount of possibilities of what had happened to Hei—or, more precisely, where she had gone—but Jongdae stopped her, a hand on her shoulder. 

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “It’s no use.”

“What do you mean?” 

Jongdae lowered his voice. “She’s not here. My power’s not muted. I can feel it. Hei’s not anywhere on the ship.”

Jinqiong took a deep breath. She wouldn’t look at Junsu’s ship, because only an idiot would go there, and she refused to think that Hei would even attempt something so dangerous and stupid. “Did she go to find Taeyong?”

Jongdae pressed his lips together. “I don’t know.”

Baekhyun came back from the helm with Luhan in tow. Luhan was saying something about no one having seen Hei leave from the helm, before Chanyeol gave a shout, crouching over the railing. “There’s footprints!” he yelled.

Jongdae exchanged one grim look with Jinqiong that promised a thousand things going wrong before he hurried away. Staring at the dense growth on the central island, no longer green but black in the night, she had a feeling that it wasn’t to Taeyong that Hei had gone.

Baekhyun was already leaning over the ladder where Chanyeol was. Jinqiong was almost too scared to follow, but she forced herself to move, even if she knew what the answer was.

The group of them crowded over the opening in the railing that led to the ladder down. Crusted with ice on the bottom, Baekhyun shone a lantern over.

One set of footprints led away from the ship, feet too small to be anybody’s but Hei’s. They led forward, for as far as the light reached, right towards Junsu’s ship.

***

Junsu’s cabin looked a lot more of a… workplace than Baekhyun’s. There was a small bed in the corner, but it looked untouched (or simply very neat—Hei was used to having to make the bed every single day after him). Maps were pinned behind on the wooden desk, lining the walls, and there were a small row of weapons lined up in the corner.

It was nothing like Baekhyun’s cabin, a place she associated with home, more of a bedroom than anything else. It was nothing like Jaekyung’s cabin, designed to intimidate. Still, the sight in front of her didn’t seem very… Junsu.

He stalked inside with long strides, lighting a lamp on the way in. Hei followed, Jungwoo at her heels, pushing away her surprise that it looked so mundane, and remained tense.

Junsu set down the lamp on his desk before turning to face her. Dark eyes glinted at her beneath his helmet, calculating, reading her, and Hei hoped that his power wasn’t like Jongdae or Miyeon, seeing through her. She could act, but she couldn’t shield her thoughts from him.

“Well,” he said, the pleasant baritone a surprising contrast against the harshness of his golden armour and marred face beneath. “I expected Byun Baekhyun to try quite a lot of things, but sending you here wasn’t one of them, Song Hei.”

Hei clenched her fists. “Baekhyun didn’t send me here.”

He tilted his head, then Hei realized he was looking at behind her, where Jungwoo was. She didn’t look back, but Jungwoo said, “She used her power.”

Junsu’s voice tightened. “How was that?”

Hei interjected before they could say anything else. “I can’t use most of it,” she told Junsu. “But I could summon enough of my power to make a small path of stopped time from the ship to here. No one knows I came.”

His eyes moved back to her. “And, Song Hei,” he said quietly, and she swallowed. The threat in his voice was veiled lightly, but it was obvious that Junsu didn’t trust her intentions yet.  “Why did you think it would be a good idea to come here?”

This was a test, she thought. Unless Junsu could read her every thought, then all she had to do was make sure he saw what he wanted. Byun Baekhyun’s naive, too-kind wife. It shouldn’t have been hard, given that was probably what Yifan had assumed, and many more before. Perhaps it was true to some extent, too.