by Elle Cardy
Her heart raced against the fear that battered her. She called herself a fool for not running, yet still she remained seated next to the old Guardian.
“Of what concern is that to me?”
He turned his bright blue eyes onto her. They were like two drops of crystallized ocean. She could easily fall into them and drown. She looked away.
“You, my precious child, are the only one strong enough to stop him.”
She heard the words but she didn’t believe them. He spoke crazy. She was untrained, she had no talisman and her powers were unpredictable at best. Plus the man he was asking her to kill was her father. She couldn’t explain that to him. That was one secret she kept close to her heart. She couldn’t forget Marcelo was a Guardian, doing his Guardian duty. She didn’t want to contemplate what he might do to her if he found out the truth.
“What if I don’t want to stop him?” she asked carefully.
“Do you want to die?” A cold tone had entered his voice. Gone was the kindly old man and in his place was a Guardian who had seen and done more cruel things than Jasmine could imagine.
“Of course not.” Her mouth went dry. Was this the threat she’d been sensing? Danger rang clear in her head.
“If you don’t help me kill the captain, then he will kill you. That is a promise.”
“You can’t know that.”
His features softened and the Guardian in him melted away. “I wish I didn’t. Would you like to see it for yourself?”
She suddenly recalled the time Angelica had shared her power with Finn and, unknowingly, with Jasmine. She had done it to show Finn the things her power told her. Marcelo must have taught her that skill.
“No,” she said. “Don’t touch me.”
Marcelo watched her for a moment. “She tried that with you then? Angelica?”
Jasmine only nodded.
“Interesting. You are a very difficult one to see.” He was talking in riddles. At first she thought she was trying to hide again, but she was certain she wasn’t.
“If you won’t let me show you your death at the captain’s hands,” Marcelo said quietly, “then at least let me show you the world if Kahld were to remain alive.”
She didn’t give him permission. He reached out and touched her hand. She didn’t pull back in time. There was only enough time to notice that his paper-thin skin felt surprisingly soft. Then the room vanished.
Fire burned across the seas. The waters boiled. Unleashed power vortexed in an endless storm and in the middle stood the captain. This was Marcelo’s vision. This was a future that could never be allowed to come to pass. This was the end of the world.
Jasmine screamed. It was a voiceless scream that no one but Marcelo heard through her power. She pushed him away with that scream. He fell to the floor with a grunt. She knew she wielded. She didn’t want to hurt him but she had to escape.
“Let her go!” Marcelo cried.
She turned in time to see Aurelius. He had begun to wield but stopped at Marcelo’s command. Brusan launched to his feet at the sound of the cry. He raised his fists, ready to fight, even though he had no idea what was going on. He tried to blink the sleep from his eyes.
Jasmine ran. She pushed past Brusan, she jumped past Aurelius and she dashed out into the cold dawn air of Sapphire Cove. She didn’t know where she ran to, only that she ran.
Chapter 28
Jasmine stood with her feet in the wet sand. The waves washed past her ankles and rolled onto shore only to be drawn out again with a force greater than the water alone. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes so she could blot out the memory of the fires in Marcelo’s vision. She wanted to feel the rhythm of the sea. Its power gave her strength. Its cool blue presence gave her courage.
“Jasmine?” She didn’t have to look to know the speaker was Brusan. He must have grown anxious when she hadn’t returned to the cave. She’d been gone for most of the morning and now the sun rode high and pale in a cloud-swept sky.
Wanting him to go away, she didn’t respond to his voice. She half expected him to grab her and spin her around. When he didn’t, she supposed it was because he didn’t want to get his boots wet.
“I don’t get this wielding business,” he said a few paces behind her, “and I’ve a feeling you don’t fully get it either.”
Jasmine remained silent and felt the cold seawater swirl around her ankles as another wave rolled in.
“Fact is, you’re a wielder, just as I’m a…a cook.”
She opened her eyes at his hesitation. He was going to say something else. She resisted the urge to turn around.
“What I mean to say is…” She pictured him scratching the back of his head, or wiping his hands down the front of his shirt. He swore and sighed in the same breath. “What I mean to say is, some things we can’t change about ourselves. We have the choice to run and hide, or face who we are — or what we’ve done — and deal with it.”
“I’ve done nothing,” she murmured.
Her words seemed to give him an invitation to approach. He ignored the waves and strode into the water, boots and all. He reached out and touched her shoulder. A soft hesitant touch. “Then why are you running?”
She jerked away from him. “I’m not running. I’m trying to get back to my ship.”
“It’s just a ship. Let it go, Midge.”
Anger warmed her body as she stared out at the restless waves. “Can you let go everything you’ve ever known? Can you cast aside the place you belong?”
“Already have and would again.” His words rang with pain.
She flicked a glance his way. “When?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know and turned away, lifting her hand to stop him from answering. “No, don’t tell me.” She already knew his answer. It was when he defied his captain. He had given up his own place on board the Prize because of her.
“It ain’t what you think neither,” he said as if he had read her thoughts. “I didn’t lose nothing when we left the Prize. I wanted to get everything back.” His raw, unexpected, unwanted emotion pushed on her senses. “I was a fool.” His voice caught as if he were about to sob. This wasn’t the cook she knew. She didn’t know who Cook was anymore. She certainly had no clue who Brusan was. “I did everything Kahld asked me because I owed him. He saved me.”
“Saved you from what? From a barrel full of potatoes?”
“From the gallows. I’ve done things. Bad things. I was a different man and Kahld saved me. He paid a high price for my head. He saw...potential.” She recognized that as the captain’s word. “He gave me a new life. A new name. A new purpose. Truth be told, he didn’t change me none. I was still the man who earned a noose around his neck. Kahld used me. I did unspeakable things for him. I killed for him. I beat his daughter for him.” Brusan took in a loud breath. “I deserved that noose. Can’t blame no one for my actions. I always had a choice.”
Jasmine didn’t know what to say.
“We both have another chance to live again,” he said. “To live right. You’ll throw that chance away if you return to the Prize.”
“Marcelo wants me to help him kill Captain Kahld.” She’d spoken barely louder than the wash of the waves as she turned to face him, yet the declaration rang with challenge.
Brusan stared at her as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. From the quiver in his hands, she knew he’d heard every word. Slowly he shook his head from side to side. “No,” he said. “No. You can’t do this.”
“Marcelo believes the captain will destroy everything and everyone around him if he isn’t stopped.”
“I don’t care if the captain was the devil himself. You can’t kill him — or no one else. It would change you. Forever. Like it changed me. It would harden your soul and turn your heart to stone. I can’t let that happen, Jasmine.”
She smiled sadly at him. “My heart is already made of stone.”
As she walked away from him, a heavy hand caught her
shoulder. “You can’t do this.”
She’d already decided she wouldn’t help Marcelo, despite the fires he’d showed her, but Brusan’s reaction made her want to help the Guardian — just to spite the man. No, she thought. Her decision would have to be hers. She was done with people telling her what she could and couldn’t do. They all had their own agendas. They all wanted to use her somehow. She had to decide for herself what she wanted.
Right now she wanted her freedom so she closed her hand into a fist and took a swing at Brusan. He caught her fist in his meaty hand and made a move to back hand her across the face. Jasmine wielded and pushed him away, just as she had wielded to push Marcelo away. Her power was greater this time and Brusan flew backward in a high arc and landed heavily with a splash in the surf. His arms and legs flayed about in the water and he bellowed curses until he righted himself and emerged in a sodden mess.
That had been the other thing she’d sworn. Never again would she let anyone lay a hand on her.
Brusan stared at her through fear-filled eyes, his anger vanished. She turned and strode up the beach. He didn’t follow.
*
Jasmine returned to the hut late that afternoon. Brusan sat in front of the fire and worked on repairing a fishing net. When he noticed her arrival, he opened his mouth to say something and closed it again. He continued his work in silence, often glancing her way. She couldn’t read his expression. She didn’t know what could be going on in his mind. He was wary of her now. She knew that much. She was just a wielder like any other. Someone to be feared.
Aurelius acknowledged her with a nod. He seemed to be watching her with caution as well. He may not have known what happened at the beach, but he knew she had attacked his master. He couldn’t be happy about that.
“Welcome back, Midge,” Marcelo said. “I’m guessing you came back for food?”
“I’m sorry about what I did to you earlier,” she mumbled.
Marcelo waved a hand. “Don’t be silly. I deserved it. I leapt in without permission. Forgot my manners.”
She relaxed at his words and his manner. The Guardian’s lack of concern or wariness eased her fears.
“However,” he said with a stern look that put her on guard again, “if you want food you’ll have to catch it yourself.” He picked up two wooden buckets and pushed one into her hands. “Come, come.” He guided her toward the exit.
Aurelius made a move to follow before Marcelo turned and said, “You stay here with Brusan and start the vegetable stock.”
A moment of annoyance flashed across the young man’s face, then vanished. “Yes, sir.”
Before she knew it, Marcelo had led her to the northern end of the cove. Jagged black stone jutted from the ocean and marched into the land only to die at the base of the cliffs, half buried in sand and sea. It was there Marcelo and Jasmine picked their way across the rocks in search of mussels while the tide was still low.
“Oh dear,” Marcelo said. Jasmine glanced over her shoulder to see a furrowed brow on the wielder’s face.
“What?” she asked, worried he was about to tell her some terrible news.
“I should’ve given you a pair of shoes.”
“I’m fine,” she said and skipped across the rocks.
Marcelo shook his head. “Can’t say I agree. These rocks are sharp.”
“I’m fine.” She crouched beside a rock that bulged with mollusks. Their dark shells glistened in the late afternoon light. She drew her knife and cut one free. “Is this what you’re after?”
“Yes, indeed.”
She threw it into her bucket and worked on another. A cold breeze blew in from the ocean. The work kept her busy enough not to be bothered by the chill. Collecting the mussels was like cleaning barnacles from the hull of the ship, only these she could eat.
Marcelo settled himself on a low rock and went through her bucket. He picked up one, examined it and tossed it over his shoulder. “You know you should be gentler with Brusan. He can’t protect himself against your power.”
Jasmine tensed. “Did I hurt him?”
“Not physically.”
She relaxed. Hurting him, or anyone else, was the last thing she wanted. There wasn’t much she could do about his mental state, though. She could never be the person he wanted her to be. She could pretend she was a boy but she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t a wielder.
“You do know he’s only doing what he thinks is best for you?”
She tugged on another mussel. It refused to budge. She stabbed at it with her knife and broke the shell. The soft flesh inside oozed out. “I’d rather he minded his own business.”
“You are his business.”
She bit her tongue to stop herself from saying anything else. She moved onto the next mussel and began tugging at the large shell. She had half-filled her bucket before Marcelo spoke again.
“Have you thought about what I’ve asked?”
Danger pulsed in the air. She almost cut her thumb by accident. “Yes I have.” She pried the mussel from its rock and threw it into her bucket with the others.
“And?”
“And it’s difficult to think of anything other than those flames.”
“The flames that spewed soot from the ruined waters of our oceans.”
The sense of danger washed over her and she shivered. She glanced around her, half expecting the danger to present itself in something more tangible. All she saw was the vast blue ocean, the black rocks and the occasional distant sea bird circling in the sky. They were very much alone.
“You could change that future,” he said.
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” She worked on another mussel.
“I know Kahld is your father.”
Jasmine’s heart thumped against her ribs. Was this the reason he wanted to take her out on her own to this remote location where no one would find her? She pointed her borrowed knife at him. She watched him for any indication he might wield. She shot a glance at the bucket of mussels between them. If she kicked it at him she might be able to distract him long enough to get away. Where would she go? There were only rocks and ocean and cliffs. She took a step back.
“Fascinating,” Marcelo said. “When you hide I can’t sense you wielding. You make the perfect little spy.” He laughed in delight.
This was not the reaction she’d anticipated from the old man. She expected the same surge of power she’d felt the night they first met. She expected to lose. Maybe he was playing with her so he could gain an advantage and strike her when her guard was down. She took another step back. Her foot slipped and she splashed into an ankle-deep tidal pool.
“That’s a bit of a giveaway,” he said. “You’d have to be more careful.”
Jasmine swore. When Marcelo’s striking blue eyes connected with hers, she realized she was visible again.
“Perhaps not the perfect spy,” he said with a kindly smile. “You must show me that trick again. With your permission, of course.”
“It’s not something I can control well. Some people see me even when I’m hidden to others.”
“I suspect that would be a trust issue.” When she gave him a blank look, he explained. “Those who can see you are the ones you innately trust. You feel no need to hide from them.”
Why was he helping her? Why wasn’t he upset she was the captain’s daughter?
“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” A wave of dizziness passed over her then subsided into weariness.
“Why would I be afraid of you?” He frowned. “Except that you seem to want to poison all of us.” He reached down and pulled another mussel out of the bucket. He held it up to show her. “See, when their shells are open before we cook them, it means they’re no good. You have to toss them.”
“I’m the wielding child of a wielding father.”
“You know about abominations then.” He held up his hands in mock claws and pretended to be a monster. He laughed at himself and dro
pped his hands. He cocked his head to one side. “You’re looking a little pale. Sit down. I guess that oar thing I had Aurelius give you is a poor substitute for the real thing.”
She touched her hand to her waist where the swivel rested beneath her belt. “It’s meant to be a talisman?” She was suddenly frightened she might blow it up as she had with the shell Finn had given her. “What made you think it would even work?”
“Because it’s a smaller part of the real deal.”
“You think my talisman is an oar, or the rowboat?” From what Finn had told her and what she’d seen, wielders had small talismans. A ring, a pin, a medallion, a pebble, a shell. She looked at Marcelo. He kept his power well contained as if he kept it in a box. When she looked carefully, when she searched him, she found a portion of it leak from him in a faintly pulsing glow at his chest. A medallion then.
“Interesting. You can sense another’s talisman?”
She glanced up from his chest. She hadn’t meant to wield. She had to remember he always knew when she wielded and always knew what she wielded.
A small smile crept into his expression. “And yet,” he said aloud in thought, “you can’t sense your own.”
“What do you mean?”
His smile broadened. “What a rare and precious find you are.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Tell me, Midge, what is your true talisman?”
“I have no talisman.” She didn’t know why she told him the truth. Maybe a small part of her wanted to see how he might react.
“This is more brilliant than I thought,” he declared.
“Just tell me, old man.”
Although he stopped laughing, the delight stayed in his eyes. “You sound like Finn.”
“Are you going to tell me or are you just going to annoy me?”
“Finn would have used the word, ‘infuriate.’” He coughed when he saw her expression. “Tell me, did you never have a talisman or did you lose it?”
She sighed. He wasn’t going to tell her anything until he was ready. There was nothing to do except play along. “I never had one. Even Finn didn’t believe me. He thought I was lying.”