Dance of a Burning Sea

by Mellow, E. J.

  Dead.

  She had killed someone.

  They had killed someone.

  She was terrified.

  She was excited.

  She was . . . she was . . .

  A tingling along her neck made her aware of his presence. She tilted her head up to an empty balcony covered in shadows. Though she could not see him, she knew he was there, blending into the jagged edges of his palace, watching.

  Their king.

  He spoke not a word, but she felt what he did not say—pride.

  That was the night his precious Mousai were born.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Niya tried and failed to ignore the cold stare of Alōs as he sat behind his desk. A full moon framed him from behind as his ice-shard energy filled the room, setting a crackling of frost to stretch along the windows at his back.

  When Niya breathed, it came out in cloudy puffs.

  She had seen Alōs plenty of times in the past days, but it was always on deck, in the open air. She had almost forgotten the suffocation of standing near him in a confined room.

  Burlz’s corpse lay on the ground between them, a large rhino put down.

  Despite Alōs’s obvious rage, Niya did not feel a slip of guilt at seeing the dead man.

  Better to let everyone on this ship know what happened when you tried to hurt her.

  I hurt back.

  Kintra pushed into the room, handling Prik by the collar, before dumping him beside Niya. The man sniffed, head bowed as he cradled his recently knocked-out tooth. Alōs did not spare Prik a glance as Kintra placed a curled wire rope on his desk before standing sentry beside him, arms folded over her chest.

  Alōs’s smooth voice finally broke the silence. “Only a few weeks aboard my ship, fire dancer, and you’re already making enemies.”

  Niya lifted a brow. “I had an enemy aboard this ship before I stepped on deck.”

  “Indeed,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. “Yet it appears you wish to make more.”

  She narrowed her gaze, frustrated at how easily he could incite her. “I have done nothing but what has been asked of me since becoming part of your crew. If that causes bad blood, then I suggest you rethink how things are run here.”

  Alōs tsked, glancing toward Kintra. “Killing a crew member, as well as insulting her captain? How shall she be punished?”

  “Some time spent in the box might suffice,” suggested Kintra, eyes remaining pinned on Niya.

  “Hmm, that does sound appealing.”

  “As I recall it”—Niya’s hands tightened into fists at her sides—“I was sleeping in my hammock when this lot tried to stick me with a dagger. If killing was afoot this night, it was not planned by me.”

  “What say you, Prik?” Alōs finally turned his attention to the reed of a man next to Niya.

  “Lies, Cap’n,” he said, eyes wide as he pointed toward her. “She’s a shifty creature, she is.”

  “Interesting,” said Alōs. “Yet there are other witnesses to Niya’s story, saying you and Burlz were seen approaching her cot as she slept. So either they lie to me or you do.”

  “No, I’d never, Cap’n,” he pleaded, shaking his head. “Sure, Burlz might have meant her harm, but I was just walkin’ through. Off for a bit of winks.”

  “I see.” Alōs studied the man as he played with his pinkie ring. Niya had begun to notice he did that a lot. She also thought it odd he was wearing jewelry at all when he never had in the past, at least none she had accounted for before. “And the Pixie Tail?” The pirate gestured to the wire whip on his desk.

  Prik’s energy fluttered nervously beside Niya. “We all have some protection on us, Cap’n,” he explained. “And a good thing too. She was coming at me with a knife!”

  “After you tried to wrap that Pixie Tail around my neck,” Niya accused. “Not that you managed. How’s that tooth of yours, Prik?”

  The scrawny pirate turned red. “You bitch!”

  “That is enough,” commanded Alōs. “I have heard all I need to in regards to tonight’s events. What I’d really like to discuss, Prik, is how you came into owning this device.” Alōs slid a finger along the sleek silver wire.

  “Yes, well, that . . .” Prik gripped the tooth in his palm tighter. “That I can explain.”

  “Please do, for I remember it being a part of the bounty of the Cax Island raid. But how odd, since that bounty has yet to be divided.”

  The room became very still as Alōs’s blue gaze pierced Prik’s.

  “Is this your way of saying you’re of a rank to pick your prize first?” asked Alōs.

  “No, Cap’n. Never! I just—”

  “Have you decided we are all now allowed into the treasury to pocket whatever we wish, whenever we wish it?”

  “No, no! I—”

  Without standing from his chair, Alōs flung out the whip so fast Niya hardly felt the energy Alōs gave off picking it up.

  She watched as the wire encircled Prik’s neck with razor sharpness before the pirate lord tugged hard, sending ribbons of blood to gush from the thin man’s throat as he was decapitated. Warmth splattered along Niya’s cheek. Prik’s head hit the wooden floor with a sickening thunk and rolled, eyes bulging, before the sight was covered up by his body falling on top.

  In the next breath, Kintra threw down a large blanket that had been resting by her feet, Prik’s pooling blood from his severed neck turning it a deeper shade as it became soaked through. The quartermaster quickly and dutifully gathered up all the parts of the thin pirate into the cloth and, with a grunt, swung the sack over one shoulder.

  “Captain hates a mess,” Kintra explained to Niya, then shuffled past and through the door, but not before calling back, “I’ll grab Burlz next, Captain.”

  With a buzz in her ears, Niya returned her attention to Alōs, who had remained seated behind his desk this entire time.

  She did not need to look down to know Burlz’s body, which remained in the center of the floor, would be covered in the blood of his friend.

  Niya had experienced Alōs’s cruelty firsthand, but not his lethalness—until this moment. Rumors abounded, of course, but such things were hardly reliable sources. And if it weren’t for Niya’s own years of experience with torture within the Thief Kingdom, what she had just witnessed would have reduced her to a blubbering mess.

  As it was, she stood firmer in the face of such a threat.

  “I may employ thieves,” said Alōs, his voice even as he cleaned off the Pixie Tail with a handkerchief, “but I shall not tolerate stealing aboard the Crying Queen.”

  “Noted,” said Niya.

  Alōs looked up from his task, penetrating gaze meeting hers. “Do you understand why?” he asked, placing the whip down.

  Niya shook her head, eyeing his every move, every breath. The way his angular features shone predatory in the candlelight.

  He is just as feral as me, she thought. Unpredictable.

  “It is not that it would be stealing from me,” he explained, “but stealing from the crew. From the men and women that have done equally hard work aboard this ship. If I allowed thieves to roam here, there would be no order, no common goal. Just chaos. A ship cannot sail long in chaos.”

  How odd that these words echoed her father’s. Though the reason the Thief Kingdom existed was to keep chaos in.

  “But you are pirates,” said Niya. “Are you not meant to create and thrive in chaos?”

  Alōs folded his arms over his broad chest as he leaned back in his chair, eyes assessing her. “Perhaps in time you’ll come to learn we are more than that.”

  She gave him a dry look. “Says the man who just decapitated someone beside me.”

  “To the woman who just killed a man below deck.”

  “He started it.” Niya crossed her arms.

  “Someone always does.”

  They held each other’s stare, a beast and a monster.

  And for the first time in many years, Niya was reminded of how simil
ar they were.

  It left a bad taste in her mouth.

  “You’ll be taking over Burlz’s duties until his role is replaced.”

  Alōs’s words gave her a jolt. “What? That’s not fair. He’s the one—”

  “It is not up for discussion.” He cut her off. “This is the law aboard the Crying Queen, and as one of her pirates, you must abide by it.”

  Niya pressed her lips shut, her nostrils flaring. She was not used to taking orders from any but her king, her father, and perhaps, begrudgingly at times, Arabessa. It took all her strength not to try out that Pixie Tail for herself.

  Alōs seemed to understand her struggle, for a dark grin edged his full lips. “You’ve got a bit of blood here.” He pointed to his own cheek. “And here.”

  “It’s not the first time,” she quipped, not moving to remove it.

  Alōs’s gaze sparked, amused. “No, I don’t suppose it is.” Bending toward one of the drawers behind his desk, he pulled something free. “Seeing as you managed to kill without them, I see no reason why you shouldn’t have them back.”

  Niya snatched her holstered blades from the air as he threw them her way.

  She felt over the worn leather sheaths, running fingers along the detailed carved handles of her knives, before looking back up at the pirate, pulse quickening.

  More tricks?

  “You have always known I do not need a blade to be lethal,” she said.

  “Do you wish for me to remain their master, then?”

  Niya gripped her blades tight. “No.”

  “Then I believe a thank-you is usually the proper response to such a gift.”

  “It is not a gift when they were always mine.” She narrowed her eyes, distrust still clawing in her chest.

  What is he up to, giving these back to me?

  “You and I both know that in thievery, ownership is fleeting.”

  She held back her reply, not wanting to give Alōs any more ammunition to test that theory. Her blades were back in her possession, and that was all that mattered. As she strapped them around her hips, a calmness settled over Niya at feeling their familiar weight. Hello, old friends.

  “Get what rest you can,” said Alōs, the moonlight behind him outlining his large form in his chair. “In addition to acquiring Burlz’s responsibilities, I will need you when we dock at our next port tomorrow.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. “Need me for what?”

  “It’ll be explained tomorrow.”

  “When we dock where again?”

  “A place we all can have a bit of fun,” he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now go; these antics tonight have set me back in my work.”

  Despite being shooed away like a bothersome child, Niya did not argue. She was all too happy to leave the pirate lord’s suffocating confines. Wherever they were going tomorrow, she’d find out then. Tonight, she had done quite enough, learned quite enough. She desperately wanted to get back to her hammock and sleep.

  Though there was one stop she desired to make first.

  After traveling through the tight dark hall that snaked from the captain’s quarters to stairs leading on deck, Niya breathed easier as she stepped into the cool night air.

  The stars were bright pricks of light as they spanned the endless black sky, the sound of waves hitting up along the ship loud in contrast to the quiet deck.

  The calm sea must have only required a thin crew this evening. She was thankful for the restful energy floating around her; it allowed her gifts to settle from the earlier scuffle with Burlz and Prik.

  Speaking of, Niya glanced over the ship, hoping she wasn’t too late. As she found Kintra’s familiar silhouette at the far starboard railing, relief washed over her. The quartermaster was talking to Boman, the Crying Queen’s main navigator, who was a burly, gray-bearded old man who seemed to prefer responding in grunts rather than in words.

  At their feet rested a stuffed sack.

  Prik, thought Niya with a smile. She started toward them. Despite how the slimy pirate had completely and utterly repulsed her, she couldn’t help but notice his rather darling leather vest. A vest that she believed worked much better with her outfit than with his. Now with Prik dead, he had little use for such an item. And as Niya had learned early and practiced too often, bloodstains could be cleaned.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Alōs glanced up at the tangled mess that was Barter Bay. Which, in fact, wasn’t actually a bay but what it would look like if every sailing vessel on the Obasi Sea had come crashing together to make a floating city. Massive clusters of ships, knotted and roped together, some stacked five stories high, rose proudly from the water. Crisscrossing hanging footbridges decorated the skies, helping civilians get from one destination to another. Boats were hoisted up by winches to the sides of halls. Others sat beneath oared awnings, creating vendor stations that lined the river avenues. Trinkets from all over Aadilor dangled off fishing line, while shop owners shouted competing prices at the boats that clogged the snaking waterways, carrying visitors. Others turned to call out to those who walked along the boarded sidewalks above.

  It was a massive anthill of movement, and though thousands of anchors held it to the seafloor, Barter Bay still had the tendency to drift, making its location a hunt every time. But Alōs knew these waters better than most and could predict the currents well enough to find the city in one go.

  As they squeezed by other vessels traveling in the tight waterway, hungry seagulls squawked overhead, mixing with the soft lapping of waves against his rowboat. Alōs sat on the back bench, Kintra beside him, along with Saffi and Boman—his helmsman—rowing. Niya sat at the bow, the afternoon light painting her red hair a warmer amber as she took in their surroundings. By the way she studied the intricately stacked ships, peered into every vendor’s stall, and asked Boman and Saffi more than a dozen questions, he could gather this was her first visit.

  “You’ll draw us a pickpocket looking so doe eyed,” grumbled Boman in response to another one of Niya’s queries, his gray hair tangling in the sea breeze. “Haven’t you seen a city before?”

  “Certainly,” replied Niya as she stared up at a woman who leaned out of a port window they rowed past, breasts bursting from her low neckline, enticing customers inside, “but that doesn’t stop my wonderment when visiting new ones or old.”

  “Well, at least put on a scowl along with that wonder whatchamacallit,” grunted Boman. “We’re pirates from the Crying Queen, for the Obasi Sea’s sake. We can’t be seen looking so green.”

  “I think Niya can handle herself just fine,” said Saffi. “Or did you not hear about Burlz?”

  Alōs had told his master gunner that she had lost two of her artillery team last night. But not surprisingly, Saffi had taken it in stride. She had seen and lived through worse, after all. She would certainly live through this. It also helped to hear that Niya would be working double duty until they could find replacements. While Prik’s execution would go unquestioned by his crew, seeing as he’d stolen from the lot of them, it was not Niya’s place to take Burlz’s. Sure, he’d attacked her first, but the appropriate punishment for such action was saved for the captain and crew to vote on.

  She would have to learn their ways and accept them if she wanted such a night not to be repeated by others.

  “I could have taken that squid,” Boman snorted. “All hot air and thin skin, he were.”

  Alōs bit back a grin listening to the old man. Boman had perfected the art of a displeased mutter. A quality Alōs found rather charming. It was almost an added bonus that he also happened to be the best navigator on the southern seas. He had been the first and only one Alōs trusted to sail his beloved Queen.

  “I’d have paid to see that,” laughed Saffi.

  “Then show me your coin, girl, for if that corpse still be on board, I’ll happily prance with his shadow.”

  “Save your energy for tonight’s task, old man,” Alōs said to Boman as they came
to dock at their stop. “Afterward we can talk of you dancing with the dead.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” said Boman, tying up their boat before they each stepped onto the wooden walkway.

  The sun had dipped beneath the jagged stacked buildings, casting a pink hue to the small sliver of sky visible in the tightly built city. Lanterns were being lit, twinkling honey gold along port windows and guiding their way up the planked path.

  “Saffi and Boman.” Alōs turned to them. “Make your way to Fate’s Fall to secure what we need. We’ll meet you there later tonight.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.” His pirates departed down a side street, disappearing into Barter Bay’s labyrinth.

  Alōs led the way down another busy street, Niya and Kintra following in silence as they walked a thin alley. The planked floor wobbled up and down with each of his steps as it sat above the flowing sea beneath. After ascending a spiral staircase at the end, Alōs stepped onto the second street level. This area was even more crowded, the sea air mixed with the heavy scent of bodies. It was the Trinkets and Trades District, a place where citizens from all over the world came to pawn items, make deals both legal and illegal, and trade in materials and knowledge. Barter Bay was a city where things were brought so they could be left, ties to the original owners wiped away, all for a promise of sailing away with fatter pockets and a clearer conscience.

  Alōs had been one of these patrons once, which was why he had to be smart with how he was to get what he needed tonight. The item he hunted was from a trade many, many years ago, and he’d meant it never to be traced back to him. He hoped the information he had procured was true and the trader was still in residence here, but more importantly, he hoped that her nightly vices had not changed.

  “Where are we going?” Niya appeared at his side and kept pace with him as she eyed a group of Pilgrims, men and women dressed in red robes, loitering along a wall. They chanted the teachings of the lost gods, or what they believed them to be, while blowing the ash of burned prophecies from their palms. A large cloud struck a passing woman, and without pause, she turned and punched the nearest Pilgrim in the face.