Flood and Fire

by Deirdra Eden

  Alamar pressed his lips into a hard line, his face a mask of stone.

  I held up my hand. “Please listen to me without interrupting.” He was vehemently against letting the druids help him learn about his powers and heritage, so I tried another argument. “The druids wish to protect you from the Shadow Legion.”

  His jaw tightened and the veins in his long forearms bulged. “How?”

  “There are many powerful Watchers. Don’t you want to be with your own kind?”

  Alamar put his hands on the back of his chair and drew in a long breath. “I like being alone. I don’t need anyone.” His words oozed with hidden pain.

  “You need other Watchers. We can help you—”

  “Stop.” Alamar made a motion with his hands, snapping his fingers together. “Enough is enough of your silly fantasies. Tell me, how did Poseidon give you the gift of fire?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

  I laughed dryly and stood. “You are sick of my silly fantasies?” I made my way toward his door to leave, but Alamar skirted quickly around the chair and blocked my way. “Move,” I insisted. I had the strength to shove him out of my way, but didn’t want to give him another scar to remember me by. One moment we could share and speak as friends, the next we were at each other’s throats. I could not go on much longer like this.

  “Who is Azrael?” he blurted to grab my attention.

  I unclenched my fists. My heart stopped beating for a brief moment. “How do you know about Azrael?” I asked in a low, angry tone.

  “You speak in your sleep.” He leaned forward eagerly. “Was he the one who created you?”

  “No!” I cried. “I am from the Kingdom of Neviah, as are you.” I threw my hands up in frustration. Anger quickly flooded me. Alamar was delaying my mission, and because of him, because of his stubborn blindness and his quest for revenge, I might not make it to Azrael in time.

  “He’s important to you?” Alamar guessed, spitting the words out, coated in jealousy.

  I did not want to answer him, but my silence and the way my eyes filled were probably answer enough. The anger drained out of me, replaced by fear, longing, and hurt. “There is a battle raging,” I whispered. “It is a battle Watchers like us have been fighting since before this earth was created. Those against us have powers as well. Most of them are invisible. They are called Shadow Spirits.”

  “More fairy tales,” Alamar drawled.

  I silenced him with a glare. “The ones who are not invisible have killed humans and stolen their identities. These are the Shadow Lords. When Shadow Lords kill Watchers, they cannot steal our bodies, but they suck our powers out and use them.”

  Alamar’s chin lifted and he scowled at me, perhaps considering my words.

  I continued, my tone low and barely even as I thought of what the Shadow Lords might now be doing to my friends as I argued with this pirate about the reality of Watchers. “Azrael is fighting against these horrible creatures. I will hold you responsible for his death if you delay me any longer with your petty arguments and mocking.”

  Alamar crossed his arms and raised his brows. “I must admit that was very passionately argued.”

  He was impossible. “You are heartless,” I snapped. I crossed my arms and turned away from him.

  “So, I have guessed right. He is your lover.”

  I spun back around, incensed at what his tone implied. “The Rebellion came after me, like they will you. They tried to kill me and take my power. Azrael was my guardian.” I pointed an accusing finger at him. “And, yes, I love him.”

  Alamar tilted his head. “You haven’t seen him in a while?”

  I wanted to slap the hopefulness out of his expression.

  “More than a year?” he asked.

  I met his eyes and nodded, my jaw tense.

  “More than five years?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Wow,” Alamar reached out to me, trying to take my hands in his. “I am sorry, my love, but he is not coming back.”

  I forced my breath to stay steady and stepped away from him. The fire that had been building from the second he mentioned Azrael’s name sparked inside me, seeking release. I struggled to contain it.

  Alamar had the nerve to chuckle. “Any man gone that long is dead or has found himself another girl.”

  Angry fire, full of pain, burst from my fists and spun around the room. Alamar shouted in surprise and jumped to his feet. I clenched my hands against the pain and tried to smother the flames as they flowed out of me. My knees hit the floor and seawater soaked the bottom of my dress. The inferno blazed from my lungs and seeped out between my lips. I struggled to gain control, but the dam of emotion had broken.

  Cold waves drenched me, extinguishing the fire in an instant. A moment later Alamar grasped my arms, pulling me up off the floor. “Auriella? I’m sorry—but the flames—Auriella! Are you all right?”

  Steam rose from my body and my hair hung in perfect wet locks around my face. I took several deep breaths until I was sure the fire was out.

  “I’m fine,” I said, feeling the drain such an explosion of power had caused. I pushed myself away from him, struggling to stand, especially with lukewarm water swirling around my feet.

  “The fire!” Alamar’s tone turned to awe. “You burst into beautiful flames that rose and danced around you.”

  Ignoring his inappropriate excitement at my display, I took stock of the room. It was drenched in seawater. “I ruined your room.”

  He glanced around and waved his hand, the same dismissive gesture he had used moments earlier, but now the anger in the expression had died. “I am keeping it wet until I know you will not catch on fire again.”

  “I’m fine.” I repeated, trying to assure us both.

  Alamar waved his arms and the water seeped out of the bedding, curtains, rug, and everything else in the room. I watched as the streams flowed along the wood floor and out the door.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologised again.

  He at least appeared chagrined at his part in upsetting me. “I suppose I hit a hot spot,” he said with a forced chuckle.

  I let out a weak laugh, too exhausted to be angry at what he had said to me moments before—and perhaps too ashamed to realize that I still could not control my power, even after weeks of training.

  Alamar leaned forward, taking a wet lock of my hair and twisting it around his finger. It sprang into a dry curl. Turning his hand over, he gently caressed my arm, pulling the water from my dress and into a crystal sphere above his hand. “There, that’s better.” He rolled the water like a ball out the door. Alamar closed the door and faced me with a pleasant smile. “No more talk of this Azrael fellow.”

  I relaxed and tried to see the humour in what had just happened, the way Alamar did. “Sì,” I said in the little Italian I’d picked up on, and Alamar’s face lit up with pleasure.

  He sauntered back across the room toward me. “So, signorina, you wish me to go to the druids to learn to control my powers the way they taught you how to control yours?” He arched his eyebrow at the irony of it. I pressed my lips together. There was no need for me to answer. “I have great control over my powers,” he said.

  It was true. He was as confident with the water as Azrael was with the wind. “It’s not like that,” I muttered in a small voice.

  Alamar leaned forward and casually took my hand. “Perhaps we only view things differently. The druid’s war is not my war.” I tensed as he gripped my hand tighter and whispered, “It does not have to be your war either.”

  For once I let myself consider the words which were calm and cool like the water he had used to put out my fire. In the gentle way he said it, I found myself hoping. Was it possible to have a life without war?

  He gripped both my hands in his. “I can take you away from it, cara mia. I can take you away from the druids and the Dark Rebellion.”

  I had fantasized often about a life of peace without war and the Dark Rebellion. This life Alama
r spoke of was full of endless ocean sunsets. As tempting as it was in this moment of reconciliation between us, I pulled my hands away. It was not as easy to walk away as he made it sound. I was the other half of Starfire, the only weapon capable of stopping the Dark Rebellion. “I can’t. If I go, people will be hurt. If I leave the battle now, Watchers and humans will be destroyed.” The words I said were too familiar. I had read a similar phrase in Azrael’s letter. “I can’t,” my voice was barely audible. Doubt invaded my words, but I spoke them anyway. “I have to keep fighting.” That was exactly was Azrael had said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alamar’s Illusions

  I forced my eyes open. Morning light streaked down from the entrance to the hull. Last night’s explosion was a grim reminder I still hadn’t gotten control of my powers and my first mission was bound to be a failure. It drained me of my energy. I slept behind the reverse barred dungeon doors. Instead of nightmares, I had dreamt about Azrael all night long. I didn’t want to get up. I closed my eyes again, savoring the remnants of my dreams. I imagined Azrael’s forever-assuring arms around me. His celestial eyes sparkled and he smiled like the radiant sun.

  “Hey, you, woman!” A vulgar voice interrupted my attempts to return to sleep. Through the gap in the canvas near the door of the hold, I noted a brawny pirate’s silhouette stood backlit against the door to the upper deck. I could tell by his barreled figure and red hair that he was the pirate they called Red Beard. Red Beard—how original.

  I groaned and rolled over, turning my back to him. Immortals should be allowed to sleep in on the rare nights they weren’t haunted by nightmares.

  “The Cap’n wants ta see yah,” he demanded.

  What did Alamar want now? I protested by pulling a wool blanket Alamar had given me over my head.

  “Now!” Red Beard growled and stomped up the ladder.

  I stayed behind, intentionally delaying my arrival to Alamar’s cabin to prove that I wouldn’t be ordered around by a pirate. I waited a half hour before I picked up the sword Alamar had given me and forced myself to leave the cage. I trudged toward the sunlight beaming through the opening to the deck. The sun hit my skin, bathing me in energy. I inhaled and soaked in the warmth as it danced off my Lifelight.

  “A breakfast of sunshine,” I muttered to myself.

  On deck, the pirates scurried about, looking busier than I had ever seen them. They tied ropes and hoisted barrels and crates from the cargo hold. I approached the door to Alamar’s cabin and raised my hand to knock.

  “We came too close to shore last night,” a man shouted from the cabin. I recognized it as Red Beard’s voice.

  “Shore?” I mouthed. We had been close to shore last night? My heart thumped with excitement and trepidation. I lowered my hand and listened through the door.

  Alamar’s calm, but authoritative, voice replied, “A simple error at the wheel. It seems to have gotten knocked a few notches, but the problem has been corrected.”

  I clenched my fist and scolded myself for sleeping and missing the chance to escape. Alamar wasn’t listening and I had little hope I would talk him into going with me to the Northern Sanctuary willingly. The sooner I could get to land, and abduct Alamar.

  “It’s that woman,” Red Beard accused, breaking me from my thoughts.

  How did Red Beard know it had been me that knocked the ship off course? I put my hand over my heart and backed an inch or two away from the door.

  “Womens are always bad luck,” he continued. “Makes a pirate weak havin’ one around all the time. We can smell her—smells like ash and roses. How we supposta be doin’ our jobs if we all smellin’ like roses?”

  “Are you questioning my judgments?” Alamar challenged.

  “No Cap’n.” Red Beard’s voice sounded repentant now.

  “Good, because we are about to run into a bit of luck.”

  They lowered their voices further so I couldn’t make out what they were planning. I pressed the door open and peered in. Alamar and Red Beard leaned across the table and examined a map. Before I could make out what it was of, Alamar looked up and noticed me spying from the door.

  There was no use in recoiling. Alamar had caught me. Instead of being angry, he smiled and held out his arms. “Wonderful to see you, amore mia, my love,” he said in a cheery tone.

  I disliked all of Alamar’s pet names for me. Though seemingly innocent, his rolling accent and the beautiful Italian words made them seem far too intimate. Calling me “my love,” however, was the worst of them. I didn’t want to bring up this embarrassment and correct Alamar in front of the red-bearded, barrel-shaped pirate. His presence always made me squirm with uneasiness.

  “Auriella.” Alamar took my hand and pulled me into the room.

  Red Beard smiled with a grin full of missing, blackened, or chipped teeth. One gold tooth gleamed from the front of his filthy mouth.

  “Red Beard,” Alamar caught his attention. “Would you be so kind to slip out while the lady and I come to certain negotiations?” Red Beard’s smile disappeared, replaced by a warning glare at me before he stalked from the room. His feet clunked against the floor in protest.

  “Negotiations?” I asked as soon as Red Beard shut the door behind him. “What do you want to negotiate with me about?”

  Alamar motioned for me to sit. I crossed my arms. “I’d rather stand.”

  He stared at me, reaching out to caress my upper arm. “It’s amazing someone so powerful can be so vulnerable while she sleeps.”

  I stiffened and clenched my jaw, jerking away from him with a few steps backward. Had he violated my privacy while I slept? My breath grew hot as I exhaled heavily. I wouldn’t sleep again. Not on this ship. I missed what was, perhaps, my only chance of escaping. Waves of heat streamed from my lips as if I were a fire-breathing dragon. Alamar laughed carelessly, either not noticing my rage or thinking little of it.

  “Is that why you called me up here? To leer at me?” I snapped, annoyed he could treat me so lightly. It seemed in every moment that I considered allowing myself to be his friend, he upset me with his insensitivity and lack of morals.

  His smile only widened. “Not at all, my love. I have something I need to negotiate with you.”

  Eliminating this particular pet name would be part of my side of the negotiations. I narrowed my eyes and took another step back, taking care with the anger building within me so that we did not repeat the scene from the day before.

  “I need your help with something,” he went on. “In exchange, I will give you what you want.”

  “How would you know what I want?” I asked.

  “I will take you anywhere in the world your heart desires to go,” Alamar said in a low, smooth tone and took another step toward me.

  I unclenched my fists, but still backed away. “Anywhere?” The image of Azrael and I embracing flashed across my mind. “What do I have to do?”

  “Help me complete my quest,” he said in a nonchalant, business-like tone.

  “Your quest?” I took a deep breath of cold air. “To capture and kill the man who murdered your mother?”

  “Exactly.” Alamar’s expression turned hard, all traces of the lustful, ogling pirate gone and in his place a determined warrior.

  I laced my fingers together and looked to the ground. “I am not sure that is a deal I can accept, Alamar. My mission is to bring you safely to the druids.” I wanted to see Azrael, but not at the cost of killing someone. There had to be another way. “What if I help you capture the man who killed your mother, and we turn him over to the lawmakers. In exchange, you help me with my mission by letting the druids train you.”

  Alamar’s face grew crimson and a vein pulsed in his forehead. His voice was firm, but quiet. “No.” With a clenched jaw he forced a smile. “I do not require that you kill him, only to help me capture him. I will kill the man who killed my mother and then take you wherever you want to go.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “When you say that you will l tak
e me wherever I want to go, does that mean you will accompany me back to the sanctuary?” He had offered anywhere, and this was my last hope, it seemed, of accomplishing my mission to bring him back to the druids.

  “No!” he shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls of his cabin. The ship rocked as the ocean responded to his anger.

  I turned toward the door. “You are making demands, not negotiating, and I am finished.”

  “I am not,” Alamar said through tight lips. “There is something else I wish to negotiate with you.”

  I continued toward the door. “I’m not interested.”

  “It’s about the druids,” he said, perhaps as bait.

  I took it, despite my reservations. I turned to face him. I kept my stature tall and crossed my arms under my chest, letting him know I would put up with little in the way of his idea of negotiating.

  Alamar leaned against the wall and smiled as though he had gained a victory over me. I hated that. “You still have a lot to learn about controlling your powers. It seems the druids are failing as teachers.”

  I reached for the door latch behind me. “As I said, I’m not interested.”

  “I on the other hand…” Alamar straightened and came forward, his expression taunting. “I know how to control my powers and I learned on my own.”

  I raised one eyebrow and lifted the latch. My patience with his games was growing thin.

  “I can teach you.” His long fingers curved into a hard fist.

  “Do not concern yourself where you don’t belong, Alamar,” I warned. “It’s not your place to teach me.” He laughed, and I shook my head in frustration. He couldn’t take anything seriously—unless it had to do with his precious quest. Did he not understand that I could incinerate him in one glance? “You don’t know what I’m capable of,” I snapped. “It’s too dangerous. I could kill you.”

  A quick knock came at the door making both of us jump.

  “What is it?” Alamar demanded in an agitated tone.

  “We’re ready,” Red Beard’s voice came from the other side of the door.

  Alamar turned to me and spoke sweetly. “Excuse me, my love. I have business to attend to. Would you mind waiting in here? Where it’s more … comfortable?”