Dance of a Burning Sea

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Dance of a Burning Sea Page 36

by Mellow, E. J.


  “I’ve instructed the crew of what’s to come once the sun sets.” Kintra appeared at his side, her gold earrings winking in the bright day.

  “How much guff did they give?”

  “Not much, which was surprising. But perhaps the reputation of the island’s inhabitants silenced anyone who might be annoyed at staying on board. A few still question how valuable the plants truly are, though, to have sailed nonstop for the past fortnight. Especially when none of us are lacking for coin.”

  “We have not become the most profitable pirate ship by being lazy,” Alōs pointed out with a frown. “So now they complain of being too successful?”

  Kintra leaned a hip against the railing beside him. “I think they are tired. And honestly, I was going to wait to say anything, but . . .”

  A prickle of unease ran through him. “What?”

  “A few have grown suspicious regarding our random choice of destinations over the past months,” Kintra explained. “Even you must admit our usual pace of travel is never like this.”

  Great, thought Alōs, exactly what I need right now, a ship full of pirates asking questions. “Yes, well, usually we are not hunting down an object that continues to slip through our fingers,” he bit out, a new tension setting in along his shoulders.

  “Usually you are not,” Kintra clarified.

  He met his quartermaster’s brown gaze. “So what do you suggest, then? It’s not as if I can change where an old lady has dropped a necklace, Kintra.”

  “No,” she agreed. “But perhaps it is time we tell the crew.”

  He slammed his brows down, her words threatening to push him back a step. “Are you mad?” he hissed, glancing past her to make sure there were no nearby pirates.

  “I don’t mean every detail,” said Kintra. “Merely that you need to find an item lost that holds importance to your old kingdom. Despite what you may think, many of us aboard this ship care for you as you care for us. I truly believe they would assist their captain in a task that was important to him. After all, you have helped many of us at one time or another. Or have you forgotten?”

  Of course Alōs had not forgotten. Many of those deeds were what had had those aboard agreeing to become a part of the Crying Queen. But still . . . what Kintra suggested was madness. Wasn’t it? Alōs glanced to the island in the distance. There were already too many unknown variables ahead; could he really add on the unpredictability of pirates learning what he was after? An item he needed more than the ship beneath his feet or the entire lot of them.

  Despite his crew knowing his old standing in Esrom, this particular secret he had held so close for so long he did not know how to even begin to set it free.

  “It’s too risky,” he found himself saying.

  “More risky than a crew no longer believing in their captain?”

  His magic chilled along his skin at her words. “That is not what is happening.”

  “Not yet,” said Kintra before raising her hands in submission at his sharp glare. “I merely ask you to think about it.”

  Alōs sighed, his sudden rage leaving him like the waves crashing away along the side of his ship. “I have no energy for this today.”

  “I know.” His quartermaster drew closer, in the way that a friend would to comfort another merely by letting them know they were there.

  “Saffi said you wished to see me?” Niya’s voice sounded from behind him, and he and Kintra stepped apart, turning to watch her approach from the main deck. Her hair was pulled back into its usual braid, tinged rust colored in the open air, and she was back in her weathered outfit, her blades strapped to the holster at her hip. She was again a soldier of the sea.

  He and Niya had interacted little since their time in the Thief Kingdom, and what words were shared did not touch on what had happened there.

  Still . . . Alōs knew neither of them had forgotten. He caught the flame of the memory in her gaze whenever it met his across the deck, the way she lingered on him and he on her. Their opposing energies also no longer pushed against one another but circled, a heated glide of two apprehensive beasts finding the other now familiar. But were they now friend or still foe?

  Alōs knew his answer, but he was patiently waiting for Niya to reveal hers.

  “Yes.” Alōs looked behind Niya, to the furtive glances from Therza and Boman as they walked by. A few have grown suspicious regarding our random choice of destinations. Kintra’s words played through his mind. “But let us go to my quarters,” he said. “I have no patience for eavesdroppers today.”

  Once below deck, Alōs leaned into his chair, letting his muscles dissolve into the hardy wood.

  By the lost gods, he was tired.

  Kintra and Niya stood waiting while Alōs ran his gaze over the map spread out on his table.

  Niya had returned to the Crying Queen with it, along with a litany of information regarding the island. The best shore to row into, the quickest path to the giants’ dwellings. He knew she had been called to see the Thief King but had been less than pleased to learn she had told him what they sought. And more so that he had helped.

  “You had no right to tell him,” growled Alōs as she presented him with a map of Hallowed Island.

  “We need all the help we can get,” argued Niya.

  “Not from him. By the lost gods, Niya, what keeps him from retrieving this piece of the Prism Stone for himself to hold at a higher ransom?”

  “He will not do that.” She shook her head.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I do.”

  “Reassuring.”

  “He is my king, Alōs.” Her hands fisted at her sides. “If he asks me a question, I cannot lie.”

  “And I am your captain; you swore your loyalty—”

  “To regain all of the pieces of the Prism Stone at whatever cost. This helps us, so it is worth whatever we must pay.” She slammed down the map she had been holding on to his desk, unfurling it. “It’s not much, but it’s better than that sad old map you’ve got. You should be grateful.”

  Alōs ran his gaze over the detailed markings of her map, details that had most certainly been lacking on the one he had acquired in town when in the Thief Kingdom. His mood plummeted further. “That’s my point.” He looked up at her. “Now we are indebted to him.”

  “You are a fool to think you ever were not.” She stepped back, regarding him through narrowed eyes. “He did you a favor by removing the bounty on your head for my identity. Those who blackmail the Thief King only ever end up screaming in his dungeons before begging for the Fade. I know. I’ve put many there. We both are in his debt. But if you do not want to use this stupid piece of parchment—”

  “Leave it,” he said, stopping her from rolling it back up.

  Niya gave him a long look then, one that ended with her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she said, “Aye, Captain,” before stomping out of his quarters.

  Now this same map lay between them, their only real lifeline. Niya had been right.

  It had helped them plan which side of the island to anchor near, which plants his pirates could busy themselves pruning while he and Niya sneaked off to travel the straightest path to the giants’ dwellings.

  Whatever the Thief King might want in return for this, Alōs decided he would worry about later. For as it was, the lost gods knew he had enough on his plate at the moment.

  Steepling his fingers, Alōs took in Niya and Kintra before him. “You each know the task ahead,” he began. “And the threats. But I’d like us to go over everything one last time. Niya, if you want to start?”

  “As long as you don’t interrupt me like you did last time,” she said, smiling a bit too sweetly.

  “I won’t need to if you get the details right.”

  Her grin flattened before she stepped forward to point at the map on his desk. “After nightfall you and I, along with Kintra and another small boat of the crew, will bridge the beach on the western shore. There are watchtowers rumored to be on
the four corners of the island, so we must be sure our boats remain out of their glow. While Kintra and the crew pick along the foliage growing here”—Niya slid her finger to a dense area circled with various markings and names of plants—“you and I will slip off to enter the path said to lead through the forest here.” She indicated a thin line that twisted and turned toward the center of the island. “Once we get to the giants’ homes, we’ll start our search first where the chief resides”—she tapped a finger on one of the larger buildings drawn—“and then pray to the lost gods we find the Prism Stone right as we walk in so we all can sail away to live happily ever after.” She stood back, plunking a hand on her hip, pleased grin present.

  “Cute,” said Alōs dryly.

  “She does have a point,” said Kintra. “The next part of the plan is all rather . . . vague.”

  “I think the word you are looking for is ‘nonexistent,’” suggested Niya.

  “The next part of the plan,” said Alōs pointedly, “is to be adaptable. If we don’t find what we’re after with the chief, we’ll reassess.”

  “Reassess to what, though?” asked Niya. “To search every giant’s dwelling on the island? Track back to where we think the old queen was when the necklace fell from her?”

  Alōs let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know yet. I just—”

  “Um, we’re about to have more company,” interrupted Niya as she glanced to his closed door. “A lot more from the feel of it.”

  A knock sounded.

  What now? thought Alōs in annoyance.

  “Enter,” he commanded.

  “Captain,” greeted Boman as he stepped in, before Saffi and Bree and Emanté and Green Pea and Therza and—by the Fade, who was still on deck sailing his ship? “We don’t mean to disturb,” continued his helmsman as the group filled up his quarters.

  “But it appears that you do,” said Alōs coolly. “What is this about?”

  “Well, sir, you see . . . the crew . . . we’ve, uh . . .”

  Alōs stared Boman down. He had never known the man to mince words, which showed his nerves. But nerves regarding what?

  “Spit it out, old man,” said Alōs in irritation. “Or have one of your companions do it, for surely they are here for similar reasons as you.”

  “We know we ain’t here for no plants,” said Therza beside Boman, before quickly adding, “Cap’n, sir,” as she took in his piercing glare.

  Alōs leaned back in his chair, invoking the forced composure he often displayed for his crew. “And?” he asked.

  Therza shared a quick look with Boman. An encouraging nod was given. “And,” she said, “we feels we’ve gots the rights to know the real reason we’ve sailed like the possessed to this island. We’ve all heard the rumors of the giants who live here, using human rib bones to pick their teeth.”

  “I hear they like to eat us raw,” added Green Pea from where he stood crammed between two other crew members. “Pluck us straight from the ground, like ripe tomatoes, they do, and toss us in their mouths. Crushing bone and skull and guts, slurping us down.”

  Murmurs of anxious agreement flowed through the group of pirates.

  “So we’s wondered,” continued Therza. “Why would our cap’n sail to such a place? And like a storm be chasing us? We knows something went down in the valley. Not all of us were in our cups the entire visit. And we’s pirates, of the Crying Queen; we can smell scheming riper than when Mika passes wind. Normally we leave you right be with this business, Cap’n, you know that. But then we’s come to thinkin’, why is Red in on it but not the rest of us?” The stout woman pointed a finger at Niya, who stood off to the side with Kintra. “Especially when she’s the guppy on board?”

  Niya’s gaze swung to meet his, a ripple of unease in the air.

  “What about me?” asked Kintra with mock offense, folding her arms. “Do you not care that I might know what’s going on?”

  “Pshaw.” Therza waved her hand. “We all know you and the captain are thicker than lard from a pig’s rear. Ain’t nothing new there. But Red, here . . .” She pursed her lips, assessing her. “Changes have been afoot since you’ve stepped aboard, girl.”

  “I would hope so,” said Niya coolly. “Most of you didn’t know how to properly use soap before I arrived.”

  Despite her line of questioning, Therza responded with a chuckle.

  “We don’t ask many questions of ya, Captain,” Boman chimed in, seeming to have now found his words. “You’ve never led us astray to need to. And we trust whatever’s brought us here is for a reason, an important one. More important than some silver gardening weeds can fetch us. We want ya to know ya can tell us, and that we can help.”

  Silence followed as Alōs slid his gaze over his crew, each waiting for his reply. Some twisted their caps between their fingers, others glanced to the ground, and a few brave souls looked him square in the eye.

  It had taken courage for them to come here, and a part of him was damn proud of that. He did not employ cowardly pirates. But at the moment he could have done without all of it.

  Yet still, the usual rage he would expect himself to feel from such insubordination was void.

  Instead he only became more exhausted.

  More confused.

  Despite what you may think—Kintra’s words from earlier awoke loud in his mind—many of us aboard this ship care for you.

  His eyes roamed over his crew once more, an odd feeling slithering in his chest as he took in the men and women he had lived beside for years now. He knew most of their scars, warts, missing teeth, and individual odors better than any of the people from the kingdom he’d once called home.

  They were now his family.

  The thought unsettled him. Despite how long he might have known it. Silently, in his cold, dead heart, for this way only lay more duty, more vulnerabilities.

  Could he risk letting these pirates get any closer?

  Despite what Kintra declared, could those like himself really put aside their own ambition to care for others?

  The riffraff. The abandoned and banished. The immoral and selfish.

  The monsters.

  Alōs looked to Niya then, a now-familiar warmth blooming in his chest.

  Yes, a voice whispered in his mind. Here is proof someone like yourself can care about another.

  A vision of Ariōn swam before him next, then his kingdom.

  All these pieces he had seen as weaknesses, but for the first time Alōs now understood how they were strengths. They were reasons to burn bright, mighty, just as the fire dancer did so openly for her family—for they were people to fight for. Purposes to live for.

  We want ya to know ya can tell us, and that we can help.

  Were his pirates searching for this purpose? A family to protect, a reason beyond treasure to remain sailing the endless sea? Or had they already found it? And Alōs was the last of their kind to see clearly.

  It was a lot to reconcile, years of calluses to soften from the fated aftermath of the hand he’d been dealt, but nevertheless he found himself turning to his awaiting pirates, and whether it was from these new realizations or because he truly was at the end of his rope, Alōs threw away careful planning in substitute for what felt right in the moment.

  Which was a version of the truth.

  “You really want to know what brings us to these waters?” asked Alōs, leaning forward. “Fine, I’ll tell you lot, but I can’t tell you everything. And I don’t want to hear any sniveling about that.” He looked each one in the eye, receiving quick nods of understanding. “And when I’m through telling you what I deem enough, I don’t want any more questions. Perhaps in time, if events turn out, I will, but for now this isn’t story time. You hear?”

  The room was filled with aye, Cap’ns.

  Alōs stood then, and as he did, he sent a wave of his cool magic through the space. A bite of cold, of intimidation. Remember who’s in power here, the gesture silently said.

  He turned to look out
his window, to the blue expanse lit by the morning sun. The water glistened brightly, a merry dance of light that sparkled in stark contradiction to his somber thoughts. “I look for an item that is important to Esrom,” he began. “Important to prevent a death that I cannot let happen. I may no longer live there, but this I am duty bound to fix more than any other atrocity I have ever committed in Aadilor.” He turned to look at his pirates. “And you all know what sort of actions I am capable of.”

  He watched Bree and Green Pea share a glance, shifting feet.

  “My time is running out, however.” He gestured to the silver sandglass on his desk, to the never-ending trickles of grains counting down his failure. “Which is why we’ve been sailing like storms were chasing us, as you put it, Therza.” He looked to the woman, who stood listening intently. “The item is said to be on this island, and since we are no longer standing on pretenses, I of course will not ask any of you to come ashore. But I must, and will, alone. Well, alone, except for with Niya.”

  All eyes turned to her then, which she met head-on. A warrior.

  If Alōs were in a different mood, he would have smiled.

  “As you know, she is blessed with the lost gods’ gifts, as gifted in powers as I.”

  One of her brows arched as she met his gaze. “I’d beg to argue a bit more gifted in powers than you.”

  “Yes, you would beg that,” he replied, knowing silent amusement danced in his features, before looking back at his crew. “So she has the abilities needed to get what I seek. She has been brought here to help,” he explained. “In ways unfortunately none of you are able. This is my burden to fix, you see. I have merely hoped to find advantages for all of you along the way. Once this is done, well, if you want off this ship, I will not stop you. But know all that I have spoken is true, and currently it is all I can share.”

  The room filled up with silence then, a tense vibration of blinking eyes and steady breaths.

  Here it was—the most Alōs had ever confided in his crew, the most he had ever put on the line in front of them.

  His heart pounded with uncertainty the longer everything hung in silence. But he was used to starting over, if that was what his current actions caused, having his pirates sail all over Aadilor for his needs and his needs alone—so be it.

 

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