by Deirdra Eden
“Fine,” I agreed. It gave me more time to consider how to reason with him now that he wanted to make deals.
I let him walk past me and out the door before he shut it. I dropped into a nearby chair. What could I say to convince Alamar to come to the sanctuary? I would do anything—except murder a human. That kind of act would leave a permanent scar on a Neviahan soul. Of course, warriors like Korban, Orion, and even Azrael had to kill humans who were working for the enemy. But I loathed the idea of it, of what it would do to my soul.
I waited, but Alamar didn’t come back right away. In my boredom, I searched the room for signs of the fire I had caused the night before. Everything was still intact, and it didn’t smell like ash or the seawater Alamar had used to counter my eruption.
His decor was dull, to say the least. Everything was black, and even the floors were stained with a dark varnish containing black dye. He needed to try experimenting with colour, or at least let in a little light.
I stood and glided toward the black curtains that blocked the brilliant sun from filtering into the room. I swept them back and gazed out the window. The sparkling sea had vanished and a beautiful garden stretched out for miles. Gasping, I leaned forward so that my nose almost touched the glass of the porthole. We had docked at the shore—that was probably what Alamar and Red Beard had been conspiring over.
I could escape with Alamar in my immortal grip. If I didn’t take the chance now to get off the ship, I might end up sailing around with Alamar forever. I leapt toward the door and tried to lift the latch.
Locked. He had locked me in. Angry at yet another example of Alamar’s complete lack of trust, I kicked the door with immortal strength, shattering it into splinters and sending wood skittering across the deck. I emerged into the sun.
Lush landscape surrounded the boat. I took a deep breath of the air, my longing for the smells that had been familiar at the sanctuary—of deep green plants, blossoms, and flowers. Instead the thick, sea air still permeating everything.
Several men in sailor’s kits sat in a garden, drinking tea and chatting about the lovely weather. A group of sailors flirted with beautiful young ladies, obviously nobility, which actually took an interest in them and laughed musically at every joke they told. Where in the world were we?
I raced to the edge of the boat. I swung one leg over the railing then noticed the garden drifting like a mirage on the surface of the endless water. Several pirates carried a heavy chest across the plank. Others carried food, material, and weapons from the mirage on the merchant vessel to Alamar’s ship.
It was all an illusion.
“Alamar,” I hissed his name to myself. Disappointment dropped through me, weighing heavy in my stomach and then turned to anger. I bounded to the upper deck and found Alamar waving his hands through the air, creating the illusion on the merchant ship.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
Alamar glanced at me and smirked. “Do not worry, my love. It is better this way.” He winked and blew me a kiss.
“You are stealing!”
“Have you forgotten that I am a pirate?” He laughed with heavy mockery, and several pirates within earshot joined him. I blushed, embarrassment mixing with my anger and heating my face. “No one is getting hurt,” he said, his tone fiercer, but his swaggering smile never dropped. “For a pirate, I am quite tame. You should be proud.”
“Would your mother be proud?” I threw out, hoping it would cut him to the core.
The magnificent mirage of the garden party quavered, but Alamar didn’t reply. If he wouldn’t listen to me, and if I was stuck aboard this ship, I would do my part to make pirating miserable for him. I leapt to the lower deck and waved my arms frantically, trying to get the sailors’ attention. “Stop. Wake up! It’s not real. It’s not real!”
The sailors smiled and waved back. They clearly didn’t know what was happening. I couldn’t just stand by. Gripping the sword Alamar had given me, I raced across the deck to cut the pirates off at the plank they used as a makeshift bridge between the boats. They were unarmed and helpless as they carried heavy loads from the merchant ship.
“Ayh, what’s this?” Red Beard, who was supervising the raid while Alamar created the illusion, growled.
“Take it back!” I stood my ground, sword out and ready to fight.
“Ha!” Red Beard’s tone held the same mocking as Alamar’s. He lunged forward and I whipped my sword through the air as a warning. Fear flickered in his eyes. “Ain’t no womans tellin’ me what ta do.” Red Beard pulled a twisted dagger from his boot. Did he think that puny weapon would save him from my immortal wrath?
I advanced. A wave sprang from the ocean and gripped me like a fist. I gasped when I came in contact with the water. I coughed and forced the water out of my lungs so I could scream in protest.
The tight whirlpool swirled around me, rendering my powers useless. I struggled against the water, trying to paddle through it, but it gripped me tight like a hungry, aquatic beast from the deep. Alamar held me in place as I helplessly watched the pirates plunder the merchant vessel.
“Stop, Alamar. Put me down! You will regret this!” I struggled to free myself from the swirling vortex, my threats empty for the moment. I wanted nothing more than to knock his teeth out. And I would—once I broke free.
Alamar ignored me as he strode to Red Beard. “Is that everything?”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Red Beard replied.
“Any sign of the Dead Man?” Alamar unsheathed his sword and narrowed his eyes. He looked hungry for action. I stopped struggling at the mention of “The Dead Man.”
Red Beard shook his head. “We searched them all. None of them sailors has a snake tattoo.”
Alamar replied with a string of unsavory Italian profanity—or so I assumed by his pronunciation and the way Red Beard flinched. Alamar shoved his sword into the scabbard. “One day we are going to find him. I swear it.”
Red Beard slapped his captain on the back in agreement and went on with his business of inventorying the booty.
As soon as we were several leagues from the merchant ship, Alamar swept away the illusion of the garden party. He turned to me, looking too pleased with himself. I pressed my lips into a hard line and scowled. I still struggled against the tight water trap around me—cold, tired, and angry.
“Did you like my illusion?” he asked with a giddy edge.
If I weren’t a lady, I would have spit in his eye to show him what I thought. “I am not pleased.”
Alamar smiled at me like I was a naive child he felt bad for. “You should be happy, Auriella. No one died, and thanks to my intervention, no one got hurt.” Alamar clicked his tongue and wagged his head. “You have quite a temper.”
“No one got hurt?” I yelled. I couldn’t believe Alamar was making me out to be the villain. “What about all those men who’ve lost their cargo? Do you know what will happen when they return to dock? They’ll be punished for your stealing, accused of pirating themselves, punished severely, maybe put to death! And they’ll likely starve to death before they reach shore. You’ve done nothing except delay their deaths.”
Alamar pinched his lips together, but that was the only indication I had that my words bothered him before he waved his hand at me in his apathetic way. “That is none of my concern, nor yours, my love.”
He turned to the sea, but the cold-water trap surrounding me did not waver in strength. “This is what freedom is.” He motioned toward the ocean. A gust of sea air caught the edge of his long black coat, tousling it like the dark pirate flag that hung from the mast. “There is plenty of gold in my pocket along with several caches I have hidden away.” He strode toward me with a smoldering gaze. “The sea brings me everything I need. I am its master.”
Finally, he released his watery grip. I fell to the deck in a puddle. My hair and clothes immediately dried as my scorching body heat turned the water into vapors. “Now, my love,” Alamar said soothingly.
I lifted my
head to meet his eyes. The heat of my hands intensified with every second. “How dare you try and pacify me!” I snapped at him.
Alamar leaned over, tipping my chin up and holding it firmly in his fingers. “We will get to the pacifying later.” He said it in a low, husky tone, his lips inches from mine. I yanked myself away, glaring at him. He straightened, unbothered by my rebuff, and let one side of his lips tilt into a half smile, his expression saying we shall see… “Perhaps we should continue our negotiations.”
I pushed myself to standing, ignoring the shaking in my knees. “There are a few things I would like to settle with you.” It took all of my control not to burst into an explosion that would destroy this ship and every filthy pirate on it.
Alamar simply beamed like he had won another battle. “I knew you were amenable.”
Chapter Sixteen
Negotiations
I saw no way to break through Alamar’s stubbornness and make him see the truth about who he was. I was already rehearsing what I would say to Zacaris when I returned empty handed from my mission. The complaints included words like “impossible, dim-wit, foul mouth, stubborn, deaf,” and the worst word of all, “pirate.”
Alamar stepped through the doorway I had shattered when I escaped from his cabin. “Impressive. You are stronger than I thought.”
“When do we start negotiations?” I spun toward him and placed my fists on my hips.
“Patience,” he said too slowly. “I need to fix my door.” He nodded toward the crew on deck. “You can never trust pirates when they want to listen in on a conversation.”
I strode to the oak wardrobe against the wall and shoved it with one hand, sliding it across the floor in his direction. He casually stepped out of the way as the massive wardrobe slid to a stop in front of the shattered door way.
“Fixed,” I said sharply.
“You seem tense,” Alamar said, striding toward me and reaching out to take my hand in a gentlemanly way. He wore a wide grin, as though he enjoyed my anger. As his hand grazed mine, fire erupted from my skin to shield myself from his touch.
Alamar yanked his hand back. His look of surprise melted into amusement. “Now, come, my love, let us be reasonable.”
I had no doubt my eyes still glowed a warning topaz colour, showing him the depth of my anger. “Allow me to begin these negotiations, Alamar,” I said hotly. “I am not your love.” I pointed a finger at him, sparks showering around me, making little black marks on the wood at my feet.
He fought against an offended look and held a wry smile. “The problem with our relationship, my Auriella,” he emphasized the last part as though he was trying to prove he was amenable. “We both have vastly different beliefs, and we have been trying to convert each other.” He carefully put his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged away, but he continued, “You believe you are from a kingdom far away, where everyone has powers, but you cannot seem to remember much about it.” He spoke condescendingly, as though seeking to convince a three-year-old it was all in her imagination.
He slowly walked around me, letting a finger trail along my arm and then my shoulder as he came to stand behind me and speak lowly in my ear. “Now, I believe we are unique, descended from the powerful gods and goddesses. We are powerful beings here on this planet to rule over human kind so our immortal parents can see to more important matters. We serve them. It is noble. Each demi-god, like us, is given a question. Once we find the answer, then we can go to Mount Olympus.”
I strode away from his intimate gestures and spun around to face him again. I couldn’t help but feel that along with controlling water and creating illusions, Alamar also had the power to irritate me. I wanted to breathe fire.
“Now,” he continued. “You ask me to come with you to the druids and have them train me how to use my powers, which I already know how to control. I, on the other hand, wish to stay here, on the open ocean, and train you how to control the powers Apollo has given you.”
I crossed my arms. “Apollo?” I scorned him, giving him the same mocking disbelief he had heaped upon me.
He laughed darkly. “You were created by him. It is obvious. Your fire power, your ability to heal yourself, the fact that no forged blade can cut your skin, the way you glitter in the sun…” He eyed me with a hungry gaze and his eyes swirled with blue mist. “You were made for me. Everything that comes from the sea is mine and I pulled you from the depths.” He advanced on me, his wild desire frightening me.
I stumbled backward and held up my hands. “No. I am a Watcher. The Lady of Neviah.” Streams of water seeped in through the windows, growing and racing toward me as Alamar marched across the room. An ambush. A geyser of water shot across the room and slammed me against the wall.
Alamar clenched his jaw and said, “If you wish to deny me what is mine, you will have to fight me.”
I set free a blast of flames and molded them into a shield to protect myself from the pounding water. Alamar laughed without any of his usual humour or bravado. Instead it rang cold inside me. “Come now, Auriella. Is that the best you can do?”
He thrust the geyser and slammed me against the wall again. I struggled to hold the torrent with strength I seldom used. He lowered his hand and the water gathered into a puddle on the floor.
I dropped my shield and hit the floor, catching my breath. I imagined moving the wardrobe and taking the fight outside where the sun would strengthen me. The only problem with that plan was that Alamar could easily command the whole ocean around the ship. I was the only one with the strength to move the wardrobe. The battlefield was mine to choose.
He crouched next to me and wagged his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought Apollo would make me a woman who was a better fighter.” He smiled tauntingly.
My body erupted into angry flames. I sprang to my feet and sent a dozen arrows of flame in his direction. The arrows hit his blue shield. The boiling water sputtered into steam.
“Now that’s more like it, my love,” Alamar crowed with victory for pulling me into the fight. His expression shown with a twisted sort of pride at my outburst.
I ducked low as a hard cannon ball of water hit the wall and sprayed over me. I weaved my flames into a shield. Alamar tested my shield’s strength and hurled several cannon balls of water in my direction. The water evaporated before it hit my shield. I gritted my teeth. “The first item of negotiation: cease to call me your love.”
Alamar bowed with a flourish. “As you wish,” he said, leaving off the term of endearment. Could he really mean it? I repressed a smile of relief. He had finally yielded on something. Maybe I had broken through that hard head of his after all.
As he straightened from his dramatic pose, he hurled spears of water to penetrate my shield. It held true and not a drop of water touched my skin. He narrowed his eyes, his expression still chilly. Quite unfair that after all the mocking he had done of my beliefs, he now seemed offended by my utter rejection of his beliefs. Or perhaps it was simply offense at my rejection of his professed love. “May I present an item of negotiation,” he asked, barely pausing as he went on. “You remain on my ship until my mission is complete.”
I shot a stream of fire in the direction of his protective wall of water and slammed him against the bedpost. I pushed harder and steam filled the room, making it hazy and difficult to see through. A wave hit me from behind and pulled me to the ground in an undertow.
My whole body blazed hot, scorching the ends of the skirt and sleeves of the dress Alamar had given me. I had to gain control or stand like a naked fool in front of a pirate. The flames abated. The water crashed over me again. Before I could stand, Alamar hit me with another wave and slammed me against the wet curtains. The water soaked into the cloth and animated it to life. It wrapped around me, and smothered any sparks I fought to create. Alamar strode toward me triumphantly. “You stay.” He raised one eyebrow waiting for me to agree.
“You have no claim on me,” I insisted.
He pressed his lips into a firm line,
anger boiling in his eyes. “Only if you drop the druids’ claim to me.”
“We seem to be at an impasse,” I said. Several long moments spread between us, each staring the other down. His hold upon the dripping curtain hadn’t eased. It still squeezed me like a colossal black boa constrictor.
He finally released me and stepped back, rubbing his eyes and avoiding my gaze. “What will it take to convince you to assist me in finding the man who killed my mother?” He dropped his hand, standing taller, but his voice had a hint of desperation.
I straightened and regained my composure before I answered. “Renounce piracy.”
His jaw worked as he studied me, tightening with every second. He was a smart man. He must have recognized the benefit of our powers. He had insisted we were made for each other. Even I could agree that we would make an impressive team.
“Is there anything else?” His tone was mocking, in a harder way than usual, but I heard surrender as well.
If I were to commit to staying longer on this horrible ship there was more. “I want your cabin.” Alamar twisted his lips in thought, a lecherous smile appearing. “Alone!” I snapped.
He laughed dryly before he rubbed his chin in thought. He nodded once. “Any more conditions you wish for in exchange for your aid on my quest?” His tone was resigned now.
“Once we catch the man who murdered your mother, you come with me to the druids.” I didn’t let my voice waver. This seemed the only way I could complete my mission.
Alamar tensed, and his nostrils flared as his anger returned. “Allow me to train you.”
I shook my head immediately. “There is no way you can.” He knew nothing about creating and controlling fire. How could he help me with my dangerous, immortal powers?
“Unbeknownst to you, I have been training you already.” His bravado returned in that moment and he leaned in an arrogant way, arms folded, against the wall.