by Deirdra Eden
“You are over thinking this again. Stop analyzing how you will fail. Just hit me!”
I clenched my teeth and made a javelin of fire that shattered into sparks against his fluid fort. I threw him an I-told-you-so look, but a voice in my mind, that sounded annoyingly like Zacaris, pointed out that perhaps Alamar was right. Had I failed because I believed myself incapable?
“Perhaps thinking of something that makes you mad would help fuel your attack,” Alamar called to me.
“Like you,” I grumbled.
Alamar laughed. “Remember how I tried to kiss you?” He tacked on the last words in a teasing tone, meant to spark my ire. It worked. Angry heat rose around my body and submerged me in flames that flowed around my frame. “I came so close,” he shouted above the roar of the water and my flames, his voice unapologetic. “I could have had your lips.”
Though I knew he was stoking my anger intentionally, I let the torrent of heat flow, more angry at myself than him. The wall of water boiled and spewed burning drops of liquid in every direction. I recalled how I had considered kissing him in exchange for his agreement to let the druids train him—how he might not have even needed the illusion. If he hadn’t pretended to be Azrael, I might have sacrificed myself to complete my mission. I shuddered with anger for considering it and volleyed a bolt of wild flames in his direction.
Alamar continued to taunt. “Perhaps next time, cara mia, I will lure you to my bed.”
With that statement the barrels on the lower deck exploded and the mast erupted in flames. Alamar struggled to restore the protective wall with seawater while drenching the boat to smother my temper of fire. I couldn’t tell if humidity beaded on his skin or if he had actually broken into a sweat. I took the opening and focused on destroying the flowing wall between us while he tried to save his ship from burning.
I scrutinized his restored wall in the darkening night. Hot steam surrounded us like fog. I could barely make out the outline of his armoured figure. The small amount of energy I absorbed at sunset waned. I had to strike hard and fast.
I erupted in a flash of blinding light. Alamar shielded his eyes. I cut off the rage of flames and the ship went black on the dark seas.
The omnipresent wet fog cloaked me in a protective shroud. I prowled like a silent immortal predator through the thick mist. Alamar shot several spears of water in random directions, but missed me completely. My steps were light in the hushed opaque haze floating around us. I squinted to hide my eyes that undoubtedly still glowed like golden beacons.
“Auriella,” Alamar called out in a singsong voice, “Fifty years is a long time to be away from Azrael. He is not coming back. He is dead.”
That did it. Flames sprang from my body, breaking my stealth tactic. Alamar spun in my direction with a loud, “Ha!” and attacked.
The wall of water became a weapon and slammed me against the deck. I inhaled the water. The last of my energy sputtered in a shower of weak sparks. Alamar held me against the floor, my hair pasted to my wet face. Ashamed, I slumped against the deck, trying to breathe normally. He couldn’t have drowned me—I was immortal. Again, I had let him defeat my confidence, not my powers.
“I’m done,” I shouted at him. He dropped the water in a harmless puddle around me. My immortal heart pounded in my chest and pulsed in my ears.
Alamar held out a hand to help me up. “The anger you are using to fuel your strength is the same thing that gave you away and made you weak in the end.”
I scrambled to my feet on my own, too insulted to take his hand. My head whirled with vertigo and my vision blurred as if my eyes were clouded with hot vapors. I had stood too fast.
“Auriella,” Alamar grabbed at my arm. His voice sounded regretful. “Let me help. You know I only said those things to—”
“Don’t touch me.” I swung away from him.
Alamar took my arm anyway to help me down the steps. He smiled half-heartedly. “You would help me if I needed the sun as much as you do.”
My gaze flickered to him then to the steps. I concentrated, taking them one at a time like an old woman. Would I help him? I fantasized about leaving him in the middle of a desert to shrivel in the glorious sunlight.
I grasped his arm as I hit the bottom step. Of course I would help him. I was doing it now. I wanted nothing more than to help him realize who he was. He was a Watcher with a divine Neviahan heritage. Alamar’s wonderful gifts could help humankind and the Great Kingdom of Neviah. Even Erebus craved his abilities, which was why I had made a deal to protect him.
Alamar escorted me to the door of the captain’s cabin. I was glad I‘d left the doorway clear. I didn’t have the strength to push aside the wardrobe. Unfortunately, that also meant I didn’t have the strength to lock myself in. I was beyond vulnerable when I ran out of energy, and I didn’t trust Red Beard or the thugs below deck.
I turned to Alamar before we entered the room. “Those things you said while we were fighting … they were horrible.”
Regret swirled in his eyes and he grimaced. “I knew they would make you angry.”
“Did you mean them?” I leaned against the wardrobe, wishing he didn’t think so little of me—a helpless demi-god in his eyes.
A smile teased at the corners of his lips. “Well, I wouldn’t say no. I just don’t want to see you with a broken heart.”
His tone was so soft, his caring expression so sincere, that it made it difficult to believe that this was the same swaggering pirate who had brazenly made crude suggestions to me.
“It’s clear you love Azrael,” he said, and without looking at me, he pulled his hand away. A false image of a door formed between us. The illusion he created for me would deter any scoundrel from creeping up on me while I slept. He sighed through the image of the door. “I just hope if Azrael is alive that he returns your same feelings so your love isn’t wasted on an illusion.”
Chapter Eighteen
Water Walk
I learned during my stay aboard Alamar’s ship that the life style of a pirate was desperate, unsanitary, and brutal. The only thing pirates wanted was easy gold, aspiring only to get ships of their own so they could obtain more.
At least Alamar would be getting away from that life and perhaps his giving up pirating would mean the crew would have a chance to rethink their lives and choose another path.
Another thing I learned was change is sometimes painful and requires the dedication of an aspiring knight and the strength of a dragon. I embraced change and expected it. In my mortality, I had been a slave, a servant, a duchess, a fugitive, a knight, a counselor to the king, a mercenary, a friend, a guardian, a student, and a teacher.
Alamar’s reluctance to give up his old life wore on me, but I could understand his uncertainty for the future and his increasing sullenness the closer we came to Drakeland. I found him the following evening, staring out across the ocean, his expression pensive.
“It’s a beautiful evening,” I said to warn him of my approach. He only glanced at me before going back to his perusal of the exquisite navy sea stretched out before us.
We stood in silence before he finally spoke. “Do you remember why I became a pirate?” he asked in a husky voice.
I tried to read the expression on his weary face. “You told me you thought it would help you get rich then you could save your mother.”
“I failed her.” He pounded on the railing in front of him.
I myself knew regret all too well. “The worst thing we can live with is regret. It eats at you like acid, leaving nothing but an empty shell. No one has the power to change the past, but even the weakest person has the power to change the future. What you did is not as important as what you are doing. You are moving forward, leaving behind a life your mother never wanted for you.” Alamar held his breath and seemed to contemplate my words. “Her death was not your fault,” I assured him as the last of the sun dipped below the sea.
“She didn’t want this.” He pointed to the pirate flag. “She wanted
me to get an education, have an honest job, a home with a lovely wife and children.” Alamar leaned all his weight onto the rail. His eyes searched my face. “Auriella, I want to change my life. I want to be a better man.”
Alamar seemed like a child who needed to be loved and nurtured in a way he had never known. He was changing. Despite the opposition the crew gave him, he ignored their jeering and kept to his promise of renouncing piracy.
“How far away is Neviah?” he asked. “What is it like?”
“Very far.” I smiled. He had turned away from the water to face me, actually listening for once. “Neviah is the governing star of Earth.”
There was no mockery in his eyes as he asked, “Why are we here?”
“To finish the war that was started in Neviah against the Shadow Legion.” I answered.
Alamar shifted his weight. “What happened to them? How did they become shadows?”
My skin prickled as an unusually cold breeze swept over the deck of the ship. “Erebus and his followers were turned into shadows by the King of Neviah when they rebelled against him and the crowned prince. Erebus was second in line for the throne. He didn’t like how things were being ruled, so he and his followers rebelled, started a war, and were banished from the Haven of Light, Neviah.” Relief spread through me with every question Alamar asked and with every answer he accepted without scorning me.
The seas shifted as Alamar navigated the ship. “If the rebels are all shadows, then why are they dangerous?”
I looked over my shoulder. I didn’t like talking about the Rebellion, but Alamar had to know what we were up against. The pirates were all below deck drinking, but I still leaned closer to whisper. “Some of the shadows have stolen human bodies and memories. Once one steals a human form, they become a Shadow Lord. Shadow Lords can cause a lot of trouble as they help more Shadow Spirits get bodies and steal more identities. If they are strong enough, they can even harm or kill an Immortal Watcher.”
“Immortal?” Alamar perked up.
I bit my tongue, scolding myself for letting slip something so important. “It’s a rare type of Watcher.”
His question reminded me of my immortal friends. This new solidarity with Alamar also reminded me of the one person I hadn’t seen since becoming immortal.
“Am I Immortal?” Alamar asked, his expression innocent and hopeful.
“No, you’re not immortal.” I shifted the subject after that, hoping to lead him away from the topic of immortality. “But you are powerful and important.” Alamar’s lips turned up at the compliment, but I added, “You are also in danger.”
His smile faded. “From who? The Rebellion?”
I put my hands on Alamar’s shoulders, looking into his eyes and hoping he would sense the serious nature of what I was about to say. “Remember how I said that the Shadow Legion can steal human identities?” Alamar nodded. “Although they can’t steal Watcher’s identities, they can steal our powers,” I said.
A lump bobbed in his throat. “Steal our powers?”
I kept my voice low. “The Shadow Lords will try to drink your blood. That’s how they take our powers. Alamar, it is our duty to protect the humans, gather a sufficient army of Watchers, and join our king in battle against Erebus.
He stared back at me, his hands went to mine, his eyes narrowed in thought. Had I finally convinced him? He seemed accepting of the story, and he had let me tell it in full for once, without interrupting derisively. He finally smiled, but I could immediately see the shallowness in it, the doubt. “You can be very persuasive.”
“That’s because all of what I’ve told you is true.” I pulled my hand away as disappointment swirled inside me. He chuckled softly and looked out at the sea. I slumped, resting with my back against the railing, feeling defeated once again. “Alamar, think about all the unanswered questions your own beliefs leave you with.”
“I think I have had enough.” Alamar turned quickly and marched down the flight of stairs to his room in the hold. I trailed after him. I understood why this was so hard to believe and why Alamar created the story of Poseidon being his father. He came from a broken family and grew up in horrible circumstances. His life was in pieces and the stories he had heard from the sailors must have filled the gaps and given him some sense of belonging.
“Alamar,” I called after him. “I want to help you. I am your friend and ally, but you have to trust me.”
He didn’t respond until we had reached the bottom of the ladder. His shoulders were tense and his expression stormy, but vulnerability showed in his eyes. “I do not trust anyone.” He turned away from me again.
Heavy footfalls marched toward us. “Cap’n,” Red Beard said as he came down the ladder behind us. “There be another ship on the horizon. It’s sailing low with a heavy cargo.”
Alamar moved toward the stairs and stopped, turning to me with a heavy look. He lowered his head into his hands, rubbing at his temples with his fingers. “Let them pass,” he ordered in a low voice laced with reluctance.
“What’s tha’ Cap’n?” Red Beard scowled. I knew he’d heard Alamar—all the crew had heard Alamar when he’d declared he was no longer a pirate. Red Beard was making this decision as difficult for Alamar as he could.
Alamar raised his head, his eyes blazing. “I said, let them pass,” he snapped, his command strong and confident.
“But what ‘bout your quest for the Dead Man?” Red Beard complained.
Alamar cursed under his breath and his gaze shifted from Red Beard to me. “Prepare to board the ship.”
“Alamar!” I shouted, anger rushing through me at Red Beard’s triumphant smile. “We had a deal.”
He spun on me, his glare fierce enough for me to stumble back a step or two. “Nothing will be taken from the ship. That was our deal.”
I folded my arms, eyeing him with as much ire as he did me. “Can you guarantee that from your men?” I arched an eyebrow. Considering their drunkenness, and based on Red Beard’s opinion of Alamar abandoning pirating, he could not guarantee their behaviour.
“I alone will board the ship,” he shot at me. “Does that satisfy you?”
It didn’t, but it didn’t negate our deal either. Red Beard marched up the stairs after Alamar and argued about his choice to go aboard the merchant ship alone. I followed reluctantly.
Red Beard’s harsh words cut through the air. “Are you goin’ to be takin’ orders from a wench?”
From behind I could only see Alamar’s shoulders tightening. When he turned to Red Beard, I caught sight of his face red with anger. “Until we dock at Drakeland, you are still in my employ. You would take care not to force me to prove that.”
Red Beard narrowed his eyes in silent response and glared at me with promised retribution.
Alamar turned to me, his expression still cold. “I suggest you wait in your cabin,” he said. “Unless you don’t trust me either.” He waved his hand at me and strode forward, an illusion forming around the ship as it sped toward its target. I didn’t say anything as I watched him board the ship. However, Alamar’s search was fruitless, as evidenced by the hard expression he wore when, a few moments later, he strode back aboard his own ship and neared me. “As you see, no treasure.” He spread out his arms for me. With that he marched past me, and the ship lurched as it moved back to its course, causing me to stumble forward and grasp the railing.
As I prepared for bed that evening, a tap on the wardrobe interrupted my worrying about Alamar. I inched it aside enough for me to see who it was. Alamar, of course. “May I come in?” he asked, his voice full of apology.
Coming in my room was a boundary I didn’t want him to cross. Instead, I stepped out onto the deck. “What do you want?” I asked with my arms crossed.
“I do not like the chill that has come between us, Auriella,” he began, running a hand through his hair. “I had to board that boat.” He held out his hands. “I had to know if the man who killed my mother was on that ship.”
I turne
d slightly away from him, but he moved to be in front of me to get my full attention. “I risked a mutiny from my men, for you.” He smiled hopefully and reached for my hand. “I have come to think of you as a friend—perhaps more.”
I pulled away, offended that he tried to push another boundary with me. “I wish I was not on this boat with you. I wish you were far away from me.” I shouted and turned back to go into my room. I heard Alamar’s footfalls speed across the boat then a splash into the ocean. Did he really just jump off the deck? I turned but Alamar was nowhere in sight.
I leaned against the side of the boat. “Alamar?” My eyes scanned the dark water for him. I looked away and pretended not to be worried. Alamar was a good swimmer, but even as a mortal he could still die at sea. I counted my heart beat twenty times before wondering if this was some kind of test. What if Alamar intentionally put himself in danger to test my skills?
I waited, wondering how long he could hold his breath, most likely longer than an average watcher. A few more minutes passed. “Alamar!” I called again. He still had not resurfaced.
I found a rope wrapped around the mast. I unrolled it, made sure it was secure, then threw it down into the ocean. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I swung one leg over the railing and gave one final shout, “Alamar!”
I was both worried and angry at the same time as I lowered myself into the water, still hanging onto the rope.
“Care to join me?” Alamar swam along the side of the boat.
“Alamar!” I scolded. “You scared me.”
Alamar laughed. “I’m not going to drown.”
“Don’t be too sure,” I hissed through a tight jaw. “Powerful or not, you can still die.”
“Come on, Auriella. I’m going to teach you to swim.”
“I already know how to swim,” I said gripping the rope tighter. Even in the dark, I could see his eyes dancing with laughter. I glared at him. “Swimming drains my energy faster than a dark room. And if you haven’t noticed….” I pointed overhead at the night sky. “No sun.”