by Cece Rose
Looking up at the bright moon in the sky, I float on my back in the calm waters of the cove. I let my mind drift, along with my body, as I relax. I tend to lose myself in daydreams a lot when I swim. My mind wanders off out into the ocean. I feel James’ hand slip into mine, grounding me back into reality as we float in the moonlight.
“It’s so beautiful out here,” he whispers.
“See, I told you it would be fun,” I whisper back. Breathing in the sea air, I feel at peace as we relax here. Trailing my other hand through the water, I feel it rush between my fingers. I just lie back, enjoying the soothing motion of the gentle waves as they rock us. Turning my head, I admire the way the glow of the moon makes James look. He always looks more attractive when he’s relaxed, when it’s just the two of us. Whenever his father or brothers are around his face is always so serious. It’s like they chase the humour and life right out of him with their mere presence. Actually, that’s not a bad theory considering how dull they all are.
The sound of bells chiming all over the island abruptly breaks the night’s peace. It starts from the bell tower near the fort that looks out across the docks and the open sea. The fort is our main position of defence on our small island, not that it’s ever much used. Only a skeleton watch stays up there to keep an eye out for approaching ships, but the bells ringing out can mean only one thing. James’ hand tightens on mine, almost painfully, and my heart rate jumps, as my breath quickens.
There are pirates here, and they’re heading toward our shores.
“They're actually here,” James whispers disbelievingly, echoing my thoughts aloud.
“Quick, we need to swim to shore,” I urge James, pulling my hand from his.
Rolling onto my front so I can swim quicker, I make quick strides towards the beach. James takes a little longer to reach land, but I come swimming most days and easily out pace him. I normally try and make it look like I’m not a strong swimmer to hide the fact that I swim as often as I do, but the look he’s giving me says it all. My cover is blown. The secret is out.
I shove my boots back on quickly as he catches up, ignoring the rest of our clothing scattered around the beach. James grabs his shirt and shoes, holding them in one hand. Capturing his free hand in mine, I know there's no time for worrying about his disapproving looks right now. We need to get inside, and get away from the danger zone. The moon is high in the sky, and the sun nowhere to be seen. The vampires will be coming onto land, and if we're not inside the safety of my home, we're surely doomed.
“Hurry up,” I snap at him as I tug on the hand, pulling him along with me. We quickly move through the tunnel, and this time, I don't bother to hide the fact that I know every step by memory, even in the darkness. We finally reach the tunnel's secret entrance, and we quickly sneak back into the house from behind the painting. James' father is standing at the end of the corridor, and he turns, hearing us walking towards him. His eyes are wide and alarmed, I can see the sweat beading on his creased forehead.
“Where the hell have you two been?” he demands angrily, the spit practically frothing from his mouth. I take a step back, just to be out of the saliva radius.
“We were—” I begin.
“No, that doesn't matter; may the gods have mercy,” he says, his voice losing some of the anger, and in its place, is utter despair.
“We're inside, we are okay, father,” James assuages. He steps towards his father as if he means to reassure him, but Mr Burcham steps away from James and focuses his gaze on me.
“But your father is not,” he says. I look between him and the large window to my right, realising his meaning instantly.
“Why the depths isn't he inside?” I cry out, already heading for the door. James steps into my path, blocking me from leaving.
“When the bells chimed, and we did not find you in the library, or any other room of the house, he went to search for the two of you,” Mr Burcham explains, not that he needed to, the pieces of the puzzle already slotted in my head. I have to fix this.
“James, get out of my way,” I demand. I notice a maid walking in and then swiftly slipping out again, unnoticed by the men. I can't blame her for wanting to avoid this obvious conflict.
“I can't let you go, Zu,” he says, a grim look taking over his face. He already considers my father dead, I can see it in his eyes, but I won’t give up hope so easily.
“He didn't leave long ago, did he?” I ask Mr Burcham quickly.
“He left about five minutes ago, the second he was sure you were not in the house,” he answers. On his face is a look of pity, and it only makes me furious to see it. I want to say something about the fact my father obviously left to look for me, and why didn't he help search for his son, but I refrain. James doesn't need to hear that.
“Last chance, get out of the way,” I demand of James. I step back as I say it, already predicting his answer.
“No, I cannot allow it. It's too dangerous out there,” he answers me, the determination to keep me safe clear in his voice.
“You don't understand; I'm sorry, but I have to go. We're all each other has,” I say softly, walking towards the long, oak cabinet that runs across a whole stretch of wall.
“Azula, I really must protest,” Mr Burcham says as I open the cabinet, and pull a loaded pistol and short sword from it.
“Zu...” James begins, looking at me standing there holding a weapon in each hand; he appears at a loss for words. I hold the sword in my right hand and the pistol in my left. I favour using a sword, so it makes sense to hold it in my dominant hand.
I point the pistol at Mr Burcham. He doesn't know my skill with a sword, so the pistol will instil far more fear in him. I need him to be afraid, for him to step out of my way and let me leave.
“Why exactly must you protest?” I demand, any patience I usually have for the dull man is absent. Every second they’re taking up is a waste of my time. I need to get out that door, now.
“You're not even dressed, it's improper,” he stammers the words out. I glance down. I'd ditched my layers to swim, and am only wearing my white corset, underwear, and a thin white underskirt. I'd swim naked by myself, but with James I always keep this layer on.
“Your concern is for my state of bloody dress?” I ask incredulously. I pause and place the pistol on the table, and they both sigh in relief, mistakenly thinking I have conceded. Instead, I cut my skirt roughly at the knees with the sword. Now I can run faster without worrying about tripping.
“Azula!” Mr Burcham exclaims, scolding me.
“You're right, I was dressed unsuitably. I will be able to run much faster now,” I state as I grab the pistol again. “Now get out of my way, or so help me, I will fire,” I add.
“You couldn't possibly know how to use a firearm,” he says. I roll my eyes and fire the pistol at the vase close to his head. He jumps back and stares at me. He looks at me as if he is seeing me for who I really am for the first time. I am not just the sweet, innocent daughter of his friend who reads all day in the library. My father trained me to be more than that, taught me how to fight for my survival. And now I will do anything to fight for his.
I switch my pistol out for another that’s already loaded. They’re a damn pain to reload, which is why we leave these two ready in here in case of an emergency. I look back up, staring Mr Burcham down. He sees my determination and steps out of the way. Only James blocks my exit now.
“Please, James,” I plead, tightening my grip on the sword.
“Zu, I can't...” he says weakly, trailing off, but he stands firmly in my way. His body is standing strong where his words are not. His pale-grey eyes are filled with sadness and remorse. I hate that I’m about to make it worse, but there’s no time for another option.
“You chose this, not me,” I say, as I raise my sword. He stands completely still, convinced I wouldn’t hurt him. That belief in me is what I use to make my escape. I dart forward quickly, slicing the side of his arm. I make sure not to cut deeply; I don't really want to caus
e him harm. A crimson line bleeds through the slice in the white shirt, staining it. James jumps back, clutching at his arm and looking at it in disbelief. Before he can regain his senses and realise how shallow the cut is, I sprint out the front door and down the white stone steps. My boots pound into the ground loudly as I run down them, rushing to get away.
I hear a voice calling my name repeatedly. I ignore it at first, but then it occurs to me that it's not James or his father, it's a woman's voice. I turn and see a maid running after me, leading a horse by its reigns.
“You will be faster by horseback, and you may even catch up with him on Blue,” she says as she comes to a halt next to me.
“Why?” I ask gingerly.
“Your father is a good man,” she says simply, and I nod briskly. She crouches, offering me her hands clasped together to lift me up. I don't normally ride Blue, as he is my father's horse, but he’s the fastest we own, so I appreciate her thoughtful choice. I place my weapons down on the ground and then I swing onto him, using her offered hands to help me get up.
“Wait,” she calls, just as I’m about to move. She hands me a man's jacket, and I pull it on. I shiver, not having realised just how cold it has gotten tonight until pulling on the jacket. She then hands me the pistol, which I pocket. Glad to now have a safe way of carrying it. “Had I known you were going to be carrying a sword, miss, I'd have gotten you a scabbard and belt to carry it,” she says weakly.
“You've done more than enough, thank you. Forgive me, but I don't know your name?” I ask her.
“Tulu,” she whispers, her face shocked that I asked for it. I suppose the astonishment is well deserved. She has been working here for a long time, not that I have ever paid her much attention. Her pretty, brown eyes now tell so much in the silence between us as I watch her for a moment. She tucks a strand of pure white hair behind her ear.
“Thank you, Tulu. I will repay you for this,” I promise her. She nods and steps back from my path.
“Ride fast,” she says simply. I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile and set off. I head in the direction of the town, guessing that would be where my father would look for me first. Biting my lip, I turn my head as I begin to ride, and see James standing in the doorway. He gets smaller and smaller as the distance between us grows further.
An uncomfortable, empty feeling settles in my stomach, but I turn my head around again, facing forward. I need to be focusing on the challenge ahead.
I will not let my father die trying to find me, I couldn't live with myself if I did.