Barrels shrugged, hands open. “Afraid I don’t know, ser. So—er—you think she could be that pirate lass?”

“I’m sure of it.” He gave the man a flat look.

“Well,” Barrels said, shaking his head a few times too many, “I wouldn’t know anything about any of that.”

Knigh gave a narrow smile. “Oh, but I think you do.”

“I—no—I—”

“Mr Barrels, let’s not waste anyone’s time here.” He raised an eyebrow. “As you’re no doubt aware, I’m a pirate hunter of the Queen’s Navy. This Lady Vice is a pirate. And you—well, you strike me as a good man, a hard worker, honest, always stayed the right side of the law. Correct?”

The docker’s gaze dropped, and he nodded. “Aye, ser.”

“While this so-called Lady Vice, well, she kills people for a living—on a daily basis, I dare say. Thinks nothing of it, just poof.” He flicked his fingers into the air, then let them clench slowly into a fist. “I am also here to do a job. Occasionally I kill, but I prefer not to. Mostly I capture criminals and return them to Albion to face the Queen’s justice.”

Knigh drew a long breath and let his gaze fall on Barrels—the man stared, rapt. “As a pirate hunter,” Knigh went on softly, “I have more powers than your average ship’s captain. I can have a man arrested, Navy or not. Strapped in irons. Locked up. Gods, I’m sure I could even have them throw away the key. Imagine it lost somewhere in Davy Jones’ Locker—just a tiny little key sinking in the vastness of the ocean never to be seen again. Now, I’d rather not do that—you seem a good sort—but as I said, I have a job to do.” Plus a mother, brother, and sister relying on him to earn that bounty. “And you—you can help me, Mr Barrels.”

The docker’s mouth hung open, and he blinked suddenly as if waking from a stupor. He swallowed, a crease between his brows as he met Knigh’s eye. “How, ser?”

“Tell me what you know about Lady Vice and her ship.”

“I don’t know nothing about her, ser—just that she’s a pirate, ser. Just the normal things that everyone knows.” He swallowed again, forehead gleaming.

Knigh patted him on the shoulder; it might have been friendly if it hadn’t been such a calculated manoeuvre. “I’ve been away from Arawaké a while, maybe I’m behind on the latest news—tell me what exactly ‘everyone knows’.” Eyebrows raised, he cocked his head and unleashed his smile.

He tended to keep a distance from, well, everyone, but sometimes a little warmth, even superficial, could go a long way. And being fae-touched came with a distinct advantage when it came to turning on the charm.