Dance of a Burning Sea

by Mellow, E. J.

  “I’ve missed baths,” sighed Niya. Letting her overworked muscles relax into the warmth.

  “And they very much appear to have missed you,” said Achak, scrunching her nose. “You reeked badly, my dear.”

  Niya splashed water at Achak, but it merely hit up against an invisible barrier of their magic. The sister hadn’t even moved a finger to create it.

  “Show-off,” muttered Niya.

  “Jealousy is a quick sign of weakness.”

  “Yes, well, so is mortality.”

  Achak raised her brows. “How wise you’ve become in this short time.”

  “I would not describe my time so far aboard the Crying Queen as short.” Niya pursed her lips, a twinge of annoyance digging into her chest. “Every sand fall feels like a lifetime.”

  “Then be glad of that. The alternative makes moments meaningless.”

  Niya studied her friend. “I still cannot believe you are here.”

  “Every creature deserves a holiday,” explained Achak, resting her head against the rim of their pool.

  “Holiday? From what?”

  “Our lives, child. Queen Runisha is an old friend of ours. Plus, the people of the valley hold some of the best parties in all of Aadilor. We try to visit often.”

  Niya took an offered bar of soap from a passing servant, whipping up suds in the steaming water. “I didn’t realize your life was so stressful it required holidays.”

  “We’ve helped raise you Bassettes, have we not?”

  Niya gave a snort. “Are you sure it’s not the other way around?”

  Achak grinned. “My brother fights to say his piece, but it would be improper for him to be here, among all these naked ladies.”

  Niya listened to the echoing laughter flowing around the high-ceilinged bathhouse. Therza had dunked Bree into the waters of a nearby pool, the young girl wasting no time to kick her companion’s legs out from under her so she would fall in too.

  “Say something else that will annoy him,” urged Achak. “I’m thoroughly enjoying this.”

  Niya looked back at Achak. While she was close to her sisters, to be so close as to share one body and hear them constantly in her mind seemed a quick recipe for madness.

  Nevertheless, she played along. “I think it’s time he trimmed his beard. It’s looking like a bear has taken up residence on his face.”

  Achak’s body twitched, but the sister tensed her muscles and stayed present. She laughed, the twinkle a mixture of voices.

  Niya settled into the familiar sound with a contented sigh, so long it had been since she had seen a familiar face. “I’m happy you’re here,” she said with a smile, turning to run soapy water down her shoulders. “It has—”

  “Child,” Achak cut her off with a frown, the bath rippling out as she slid to her side. “What happened?” She traced one of the red welts on Niya’s back.

  Niya’s cheeks burned, and not from the steam, as she scooted away. “What it probably looks like. I misbehaved.”

  Achak’s face morphed quickly into the swirling features of the brother before snapping back to the sister. A dual voice spoke. “And who shall we be sending to the Fade tonight?”

  “No one.” Niya shook her head. “At least not tonight, anyway. Alōs has unfinished business.”

  “Your captain did this.” It was not a question.

  “I disobeyed an order.”

  Achak studied her for a long moment, the splashing sounds of the other women around them filling their tense silence. “What kind of order?” the sister eventually said.

  Niya played with the bubbles in front of her. “Evidently, an important one,” she said, hot shame filling her chest at the idea that this would get back to her family. They didn’t need more reasons to believe she could not do as she was told. That she was merely all fire and reaction.

  “Mmm,” was Achak’s only response, the sister’s eyes remaining narrowed as she settled back into the bath.

  “It is in the past.” Niya pushed to move on.

  “As were many of your problems which still affect your future.”

  Niya snapped her brows together. “I am trying to do better.”

  “Your new wounds prove otherwise.”

  “They were worth the bargain,” she ground out.

  “More bargains?” Achak’s eyes widened. “I thought you said you were trying to do better.”

  “I am. This one I shall win.”

  Achak shook her head. “Famous last words of many a gambler.”

  “You may condescend all you like, but I know what I’m doing.” She raised her arm to display her binding bet, which now sat half-removed.

  Achak studied the black lines before meeting Niya’s gaze again. “I suspect this has something to do with why the Crying Queen has come to the valley. Tell me, what is your purpose here?”

  Niya hesitated, glancing to her shipmates in the other pools. While she had promised Alōs she would not tell them about the Prism Stone, she had said nothing about sharing with those off the ship. Plus, this was Achak, not just any passerby. Slinking closer to the sister, Niya lowered her voice as she shared all that had happened since sailing upon the Crying Queen. It felt good to unload, to be in the confidence of an old friend. When Niya was done, Achak’s gaze was far away as they looked out to the cavernous bathhouse.

  “We wondered when this would happen.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The issue with the Prism Stone.”

  Niya stared down her companion. “You knew about this?”

  “We have roamed this world longer than most. We know many things. The stolen Prism Stone was no secret to those like us.”

  Her magic was a flutter of shared shock. “Why did you never tell us about it, then? About Alōs being royalty? That Esrom could rise to the surface within a year if it is not brought back?”

  “A litany of questions.”

  “All deserving of answers,” she said in annoyance. “I shared my knowledge—now you must share yours.”

  “You could never retain all that we know, child.”

  “Achak,” Niya said with a huff, her temper a quickly fed flame.

  The ancient one waved a hand of indifference at her tone. “Alōs’s past was his story to share,” explained Achak. “You never asked of his lineage before, so we didn’t see reason to bring it up. Plus, who he was, not to mention this stone, did not matter to the Mousai.”

  “It mattered to me!” said Niya loudly, drawing a few curious eyes.

  Achak held her gaze, her eyes’ violet hue assessing. “Yes, but at the time would it have changed the outcome of your relationship with the pirate? If you knew him to be a Karēk, a banished prince, would that have helped you resist his seduction? As we know you, once you are set on a decision, you follow through, consequences be damned. Young love is like rain; it falls fast and doesn’t care who it hits in the process.”

  “I was not in love,” Niya hissed. But of course she had been, or had thought she was. A dumb, foolish, naive love. Achak was right. None of it would have mattered. If she had known Alōs to be a prince at the time, and a banished one at that, it would have had her infatuated with him further. What an imbecile she was. Might still be now.

  “Whatever you need to call it,” said Achak, “it has brought us to where we are now. Our paths are paved forward, child, not back. There is no use in questioning what might have been.”

  Niya didn’t respond. She wasn’t done pouting.

  “But the stone, the other half is here, yes?” asked Achak.

  Niya sighed. “The princess wears it in her crown.”

  “Of course,” Achak laughed as she shook her head. “Life is never boring when a Bassette is around. That is an obstacle to be sure. We look forward to the following entertainment. We assume there is a plan?”

  Niya moved her hand in the water, watching as the ripples spilled away from her. “I am meant to talk with Kintra and Alōs before the feast tonight. Evidently, they are
hatching this plan now.”

  She was still annoyed at Kintra for brushing her off earlier in the throne room. She’d approached the woman regarding what they were to do next, given the other half of the stone was sitting a mere few steps away.

  “The captain and I will reconvene and let you know,” was all the quartermaster had shared before she had stayed behind with Alōs as he’d continued to talk with the royal family. The rest of the crew had been shuffled out to wash and prepare for this evening’s events.

  “And are you not to help with this scheming?” asked Achak.

  “I help by being at their disposal,” said Niya, trying to keep the annoyance from her voice.

  “Mmm, an agreement which is part of this new binding bet, I imagine?”

  Niya was tired of discussing binding bets and actions still to come. So instead of answering, she asked, “What I want to know is why Alōs would have stolen such an item from his people if it would put his kingdom at risk of surfacing.”

  “Perhaps he didn’t know that would be the outcome.”

  “But he was banished because of what he did, wiped from the royal line.”

  “He must have had a very good reason, then.”

  Despite the price, I ensured both of Tallōs and Cordelia’s children lived.

  Alōs’s words to his brother surrounded Niya, along with images of the scars of Ariōn’s sickness across his hands and face.

  “You know the full history,” Niya challenged. “Why won’t you share it with me?”

  Achak rose from the pool, rivulets of water sliding down her sleek body as she reached for her discarded robe, which sat folded on a nearby stone. “Some history is meant to be told by others. During a time when the past fits better with the present.”

  Niya huffed, irritated. From the years of growing up around her companion, she knew when they were done revealing knowledge they believed better suited for another to share. “You ancient ones are always filled with useless riddles.”

  “Yes, but at least we come bearing gifts.”

  Niya perked up at that. “Gifts?”

  “We had a feeling we would be crossing paths on one of our journeys. We have been carrying a message for you.” Achak removed a small gray rock from her robe’s pocket. The center pulsed with a faint white glow.

  “A memory stone?” asked Niya.

  “From your sisters.”

  Niya’s throat tightened, and she took the stone. “Thank you.”

  “They miss you.”

  They miss you.

  Three words Niya was starved to hear. Starved to say.

  “I miss them,” she said. “Very much.”

  “Come to me after you’ve broken it. We can capture one for them in return.”

  “Have I mentioned that you ancient ones are my favorite?”

  Achak smiled. “Not nearly enough.”

  That night, Niya dressed for the feast that was to be held within the palace. In the quarters she shared with the other female crew members, they were brought a rack of clothes to change into. While many grumbled that they were too “delicate” to be useful, Niya’s skin thrummed with excitement at the prospect of wrapping herself in such finely woven garments. It had been far too long since she had been pampered, and her soul hungered for every bit of luxury she could slip between her fingers.

  Picking a soft frock that wrapped at the waist and was dyed an ombré of yellow to red, Niya ran her hand down the material as it hugged her form. Her feet were bound in soft leather sandals before young girls came to do her hair and paint her skin, as was customary to celebrations in the valley.

  Niya sat, enjoying the tickling of the brushes over her brows and along her arms, the warm glow of nearby fire in brass bowls bathing her in comfort. The room they occupied held no windows, but the ceilings were tall, keeping it from feeling claustrophobic. And drapery hung from corners, creating a tented atmosphere over beds.

  “Do you like, miss?” one of the girls asked as they stepped back.

  Niya peered at her reflection in the mirror before her.

  Her skin looked luminous with the added gold paint swirling over her features, her hair in soft loose waves to her waist. Niya smiled, a flutter of pleasure running through her. She had not felt this beautiful in a very long while.

  “I love it,” she said. “Thank you.”

  The girls bowed before collecting their items and slipping out of the room.

  “You coming, Red?” asked Bree from where she stood by the door with Therza.

  It appeared they were the last of their lot still in the room.

  “I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” said Niya. “I have a few more details I’d like to add to my outfit.”

  “You’re covered in details,” said Therza. “Any more and you’d be hidden away.”

  “Nevertheless, I’ll see you there,” she added, patiently waiting for her companions to finally make their exit.

  When alone, Niya turned back to her dressing table, where her robe from the bathhouse was folded up on the side. She dug into the pocket, taking out the memory stone.

  Her heart leaped as she brushed a thumb over the smooth, glowing surface, and then with a whack, she broke it open on the table.

  A cloud of smoke rose from the cracked center, swirling into a tight ball as two figures came into focus as if captured in the fog.

  “Niya.” It was Larkyra, her white-blonde hair up in braids as she sat beside Arabessa’s darker form on their veranda in Jabari. “We hope you’re alive to get this.”

  “Otherwise it would be a dreadful waste of our time,” added Arabessa.

  They were looking straight at her, as if they were in a portal through the mirror in front of her. Niya ached to respond, to reach out and touch their hands folded in their laps.

  “Achak thinks they’ll be seeing you soon to give you this,” explained Larkyra.

  “And you know if Achak believes something to be true, it must be,” said Arabessa.

  “Have you gotten us into more trouble?” asked Larkyra.

  “She can’t answer us, dear, remember?” admonished Arabessa. “We just have to talk at her.”

  “What a novel idea,” mused Larkyra, thumb to her chin. “Niya unable to talk back?”

  “Shall we say words to incite her?”

  A spark of mischief lit up in Larkyra’s gaze as she said, “I hope you don’t need us to come save you again.”

  “Or pay any more of your debts.”

  They each grew quiet then.

  “We do hope you are well.” Larkyra leaned forward, brows coming together. “And that you haven’t singed too much of Alōs’s ship with your fire.”

  “Or not enough of it.”

  “Oh yes,” said Larkyra. “I like that better. Burn it all down and come home! The house is too quiet without you.”

  “The kingdom not nearly as dangerous.”

  “Father won’t let us perform.”

  “Which is best.”

  “Yes.” Larkyra nodded dutifully. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  “But as soon as you’re home . . . ,” Arabessa added.

  “As soon as you’re home,” echoed Larkyra.

  Niya swallowed, tears threatening to break free. She wanted to gather her sisters in her arms and never let them go.

  “Darlings?” a deep voice called from out of frame.

  “We are on the veranda, Father!” Arabessa turned, looking through a faint door behind them. Niya could just make out the manicured bushes that lined their glass doors.

  “My songbird, my melody.” Her father walked into view. “I was seeing if you girls wanted to come with me to—oh, Achak, I didn’t realize we—”

  “We are making a memory stone for Achak to give to Niya,” explained Larkyra. “Say hello, Father.”

  Niya couldn’t stop the tears now. They streamed, unchecked, down her face. She’d known she missed her family, but she hadn’t realized just how badly until she saw them. Saw
them, but could not touch, could not hug.

  Dolion bent down between the girls, face bulging forward at where Achak must be sitting tranced and listening. “The flame of my heart,” he said. “I hear you have gotten yourself into quite the pickle with a pirate.”

  “Father, you needn’t be so close to Achak.” Arabessa tugged the large man back. “Just sit right here, between us, yes, like that. Perfect.”

  All three of them peered at Niya then, Dolion squeezed in between her sisters. They looked happy. Niya pushed away the prickle of jealousy. She’d be with them soon enough.

  This was the first time Niya had seen her father since her betrayal had been revealed. A wave of shame and longing flowed through her. What did Dolion truly think of his careless daughter who’d broken the only rule they ever were meant to follow?

  “I am not angry with you, my flame,” said her father, as if reading her thoughts. “I know any punishment or disappointment would be nothing compared to what you have already put yourself through for all these years. I merely wish you had come to us earlier. I taught you girls to take care of yourselves, but that does not mean you need to do everything alone.”

  Alone. But that was how Niya always found herself. Alone in a room. Alone with her mistakes.

  “When is your magic most powerful?” he asked the group.

  “When we work together,” Niya replied in unison with her sisters.

  “Indeed,” said Dolion. “Now, my flame, I hope you’re keeping your wits about you. Your head held high. Pirates, especially aboard the Crying Queen, are a slippery lot. They are ruthless and cunning, and while they can grow to be your friends, do not forget who their captain is. Lord Ezra is duplicitous, to be sure, and has a very, very long history of doing whatever it takes to get whatever he wants.”

  “I know,” Niya couldn’t help muttering to the empty bedchamber.

  “But you know this.” Dolion leaned back. “Just remind yourself often.”

  “We love you, Niya,” said Larkyra, her gaze pained.

  “Very much,” added Arabessa. “If Achak does end up crossing paths to give you this, force them to make another for us.”

  “Oh! And the next time we are together,” Larkyra added, “remind me to tell you about Arabessa walking in on Zimri—ow! Father, did you see Ara just hit me?”