Dance of a Burning Sea

by Mellow, E. J.

  You’ve fallen for him.

  Arabessa’s words twisted up in her heart.

  You are more valuable on this plane than I, fire dancer.

  Alōs’s pained gaze as he’d stroked her cheek, bleeding in her arms, gripping her tight.

  She had fallen for him. How could she not? He had proved just how much he had changed from the young man who had once betrayed her. He’d put her life above his own. Had trusted her to complete the final part in saving his home, his brother, without him. He had given her everything as he’d lain on the floor in the giant’s throne room, spoken his heart as he’d held her in her bedroom within the thief palace.

  Yet still, did it change anything?

  He was still a pirate captain, bound for the sea and treasure raids, just as she was duty bound to her family, to the Mousai and her king.

  The emotions she was feeling—relief mixed with anger, joy mixed with confusion—muddled her thoughts even more. All she knew was that something had shifted inside her, had moved out of the way, but she didn’t know what to do about it. What she could do about it.

  She looked up then to find Alōs watching her.

  He smiled, a gentle expression that set a warmth sizzling along her skin.

  “You do realize,” she began, wanting to push away from her confusing emotions, “you have not yet shared how you were able to walk away?”

  “Yes, that—well, I demonstrated my powers.”

  Niya frowned up at him. “But you insisted that we didn’t.”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “And I still stand by that.”

  Niya let out a tired sigh. “Please, Alōs, I have used up my patience today. Speak this next part plainly.”

  “Of course. I apologize.” Amusement danced in his glowing eyes. “After you were taken away, I was put in their kitchens. And let me tell you, that place made their trophy room look like a relaxing bath house. As I stood there watching their cook sharpen knives and mix spices, I decided one thing: if I were to die by their hands, it would only be after the biggest fight of my life. So when the cook was turned, I froze my glass jar, shattering it. As you could probably guess, the cook came running. I knocked him down, however. Their eyes,” Alōs explained, seeming to notice her dubious expression. “They don’t have such thick skin around their eyes. The trick, of course, is reaching them. But yes, I got that one bent over, howling in pain, only for two more to enter, then three. The entire kitchen was taken up by their massive forms as I tried to outmaneuver them, make it to some crack or opening to escape.” He lifted up a vine for her to duck under. “By the end, the entire kitchen was practically covered in ice. I was exhausted, could barely stand for draining my energy so thoroughly. I had been prepared then to feel their heavy palms squash me like the pest they no doubt believed me to be. But then nothing happened, the kitchen was silent, and that’s when I realized the giants were still. They have never seen ice before, you see. Have never felt such chill as what I put into the air. As you know, this is a hot land, made of eruptions in fall and humid summers. Cold is an entirely new invention for them. This is when I saw my in. I was brought before the chief, where I quickly explained my gifts, the benefits of ice—how it helps keep food from spoiling, can feel refreshing on the skin—but what really did the trick was chilling his cup of ale. I have never seen such a large, childish grin. He was utterly charmed. So I made a bargain: my services in exchange for my freedom.”

  “Why not just keep you prisoner to cool them forever?” asked Niya.

  “Their chief had a similar idea. But I quickly showed how long I’d last as a prisoner.”

  Niya studied the red cut Alōs displayed along his neck. “You were prepared to take your life.”

  His silence was answer enough, and Niya frowned as a sliver of distress ran through her, thinking of him in such a desperate situation. “That was a risky gamble.”

  “I had nothing left to lose.”

  “I did.” The words were out of her mouth before she even thought to say them.

  Sapphire eyes snapped to hers.

  Held hers.

  A tension of longing filled them.

  If they had been alone, Niya knew Alōs would have reached out to touch her then. A flutter filled her stomach; she wished he would anyway.

  “What bargain did you make, Lord Ezra?” Larkyra’s voice chimed in from behind. “That would satiate such greedy giants?”

  Alōs dug into his pocket, revealing a green glowing orb.

  “A Connection Stone?” Niya blinked up at him. “But you said—”

  “Twice a year I must return and refill their ice supply or be summoned if I fail to do so,” he interrupted her. “Such pain seems a trifle, really.” He shrugged. “For my freedom.”

  Freedom.

  But was it freedom if he was now tied to this island indefinitely? At least with a binding bet, once it was paid, it went away. This, well, this was meant to be forever. A burden he would have to fulfill even when old and unable to sail across such waters. What then?

  Niya looked over at Alōs, wishing to ask, but something in his hardened gaze told her he did not want to speak of it.

  Perhaps because he had already come to such conclusions.

  Sacrifices. These were things Alōs knew. Continued to make.

  Her feelings for him swelled then, blossoming like a midnight orchid under a full moon. He thought her life more valuable than his. For such a notorious pirate, he was far more selfless than any could know.

  But she knew.

  And something about that pulled the man walking beside her deeper into her heart.

  A dangerous sensation, for in the end, both were held to responsibilities that would lead them elsewhere.

  As their group stepped from the shade of the jungle and onto the beach, the aggressive sun had Niya shielding her eyes. The warm breeze was a welcome whip along her sweating skin. In the distance the Crying Queen sat like a black smudge in the otherwise-pristine blue sea.

  Alōs came to her side, and together they stared out to what would bring them to their final journey.

  “I could have left without you,” admitted Niya after a moment.

  “Yes,” answered Alōs. “You could have.”

  But I didn’t, was her unspoken response, which seemed to fill the silence.

  But I didn’t.

  Once this was all over, however, Niya knew she would.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Daggers and knives winked along with sharp snarls as a ship full of pirates stood at the ready.

  The sight momentarily amused Alōs as he slid from the banister to the wooden deck.

  “What a lovely greeting this is,” he said.

  “Captain!” Kintra pushed forward. “You’re alive.”

  “Sorry if that disappoints.”

  “We were coming to save you.”

  “Save me?” Alōs raised his brows. “What nonsense. Pirates are not in the business of saving anyone.”

  “But Niya said you were to be eaten by giants, and then the crew said the Mousai showed up—”

  Her words faded as the aforementioned creatures swung over the banister behind him. Black robes swirled by their feet, hoods pulled up, faces shrouded in gold masks.

  As they floated to his side, his crew tightened the grips on their blades.

  Boman spat onto the deck between them. “How dare you return to this ship, cretins!”

  “We assure you,” came Arabessa’s cool reply behind her disguise, “we are as thrilled to be back here as you are to see us.”

  “Then why don’ts yous jump back overboard?” Emanté suggested. “Or would yous rather we throw yous instead?”

  “I’m sensing some tension here,” Alōs observed.

  “These lackeys of the Thief King knocked us all out,” grumbled Boman.

  “They can’t do that, Cap’n!” cried Bree.

  “Yet it appears that we did,” said Larkyra.

  Though she was masked, Alōs could hear the
smile in the youngest Bassette’s voice.

  “Nobody takes on the Crying Queen without consequences!” Saffi shouted.

  His pirates rumbled their agreement.

  “Then by all means.” Alōs stepped to the side, revealing the Mousai. “Seek your revenge, but know Niya called them to help with similar intentions as all you.”

  “As we told them we were,” said Arabessa. “But I’m afraid you employ dim-witted souls, Lord Ezra; they forced us to fight.”

  “We didn’t force anyone—”

  Alōs raised placating hands, cutting off Saffi. He was too tired for this. “Please, while I’m flattered that so many of you care enough to want to save me, as it turns out, I didn’t need it. I saved myself. Which, can any of you really be that surprised to hear?” He raised a brow.

  “No, Cap’n,” said Saffi. “But . . . that means”—she turned to Kintra, who stood beside her—“Niya was telling you the truth. She did fetch aid like she said she was gonna. I told you she was one of us.”

  Kintra did not reply, merely kept her narrowed eyes suspiciously trained on the black-robed trio.

  “Where is that girl anyway?” asked Alōs, breaking the tension and feigning to look around the deck.

  “We don’t know, Cap’n,” answered Bree.

  “We searched everywhere,” said Therza.

  “She wasn’t on the boat when I woke up,” Kintra explained.

  “Woke up?” Alōs looked to his quartermaster. “My dear Kintra, you must not have been that concerned if you were able to take a nap before my rescue.”

  “Sir, that is not how it happened.”

  “No? Is that nasty bump on your head how it happened, then?”

  “It is part of it,” said Kintra through grinding teeth. “Yes.”

  “Well, why don’t you tell me all about it after we set sail?”

  “Set sail?” asked Boman. “Does that mean you found what yous was looking for, Cap’n?”

  “Aye, which means we must prepare the ship for Esrom.” He strode through the group, which parted easily as he made his way toward his captain’s quarters. He needed to wash his face and change his clothes and pour himself a drink. No, an entire bottle.

  “Sir.” Boman placed a hand on Alōs’s arm, momentarily stopping him.

  He glanced down to it in surprise—his crew never touched him—before meeting his helmsman’s gaze.

  “I’m glad to hear you got what yous was after,” he said, the earnestness in the old man’s voice settling uncomfortably in Alōs’s chest.

  He still wasn’t sure how to feel about his pirates showing him empathy. It seemed a contradiction to, well, them being pirates.

  Thankfully Boman turned from Alōs, freeing him from a need to respond.

  Kintra came to his side next. “Are we waiting for Niya before we set sail?” she asked. “And what of these three?” She nodded to the Mousai, who stood poised, watching the scurrying crew with curious gazes. None of his pirates dared to get too near. The trio were like carved statues meant to scare away pigeons. And Niya, hidden in the middle.

  Alōs drank in her shorter form. And as though she felt his gaze, from beneath her gold mask, blue eyes collided with his.

  It was like coming home.

  She had come back for him. Had called her sisters to help. Something sharp and hot cut open his heart at the thought. Did he dare hope this meant she now trusted him? Cared for him? As he cared for her. Every muscle in his body was coiled to remain in control, when all he wished to do was pull her into his sleeping quarters and find out. Interrogate her with his mouth and caresses until she was so drunk on her desire for him that she’d be helpless but to answer truthfully.

  As it was, however, he could do none of those things.

  So he shook the desire from his mind, turning back to Kintra.

  “Portal doors are useful for making trades,” he explained. “I have a feeling Niya will be returned once they are.”

  “It was generous of the king to extend such help after everything.” Kintra held his stare. “He will expect the action to be reciprocated.”

  “Yes,” agreed Alōs. “I suspect he will have many tasks for me once all this is done.”

  “And it will be done?” she asked. “The final piece . . . Niya showed me—”

  He nodded. “It will be done.”

  An ever-present tension in Kintra’s shoulders appeared to ease then. A well of emotion filling her amber eyes.

  They had been on this journey together for a very long while.

  And yet, Alōs realized, he still felt no relief with the promise of its end. For it meant the finishing of another.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  The portal door glowed bright, an image of a captain’s quarters on the other side, as Niya stood beyond its light in the Thief Kingdom. The dark city twinkled temptingly below her and her sisters, gathered on a ledge rimming the caved world. Cool air collected in her lungs as she took in her first breath of relief.

  “I truly cannot thank you enough,” said Niya as she handed Larkyra her Mousai disguise of black robe and mask. Underneath she had kept on her pirate uniform, which remained worn and dirt stained from her time on Hallowed Island. She knew she smelled but had now grown used to such characteristics of living aboard a ship among scoundrels. No longer did it bother her. Much.

  “There will come a time when you can repay us, I’m sure.” Larkyra smiled, tucking Niya’s disguise under her arm.

  “For now, though,” began Arabessa, who stood beside Larkyra, her gold mask still on, “take care of the rest of your journey swiftly and safely. You are almost done, sister.” She stepped up to clasp Niya’s hands. “We hope to see you back in Jabari soon.”

  Niya nodded, the thought of returning home now an abstract desire. The acute ache that usually accompanied the thought no longer as great. But she forced away what that possibly meant as she said, “I will be back as soon as I am able. And tell Charlotte she better have a basket full of sugar rolls waiting for me when I return.”

  Arabessa huffed a laugh. “I’m sure she and Cook will have all of your favorites piled high in the kitchen.”

  “Good. It will take a proper month to rid my body of the slop I’ve had to endure on that pirate ship.”

  “I’ll be staying in Jabari until you return as well,” said Larkyra. “I would not be a proper sister if I wasn’t there for your welcome party.”

  Niya’s chest tightened, tears threatening to break free once more. She was becoming a right emotional mess these days. “Thank you,” she said, hugging each of her sisters.

  “One last thing,” said Arabessa as they stepped back, glancing to the awaiting portal door. “Regarding your pirate.”

  “He’s not my anything,” corrected Niya pointedly.

  “Don’t be daft. You both are keen on one another, and it wouldn’t take a senseer to know that,” explained Arabessa. “Just be careful there, okay? Before you fall too deep, it might be best to know his intentions when all this is said and done, and what you are willing to give up to meet them. Our lives in Jabari are flexible, but remember, our duties here are not.”

  The sharp grip to her heart again. “Yes, I know.”

  “He is different than Larkyra’s husband. He’s settled in one place, whereas a life of a pirate—”

  “By the lost gods, Arabessa,” breathed Niya in horror. “I’m not going to marry anyone. Now I must go, before you insult me further.”

  “I just—”

  “Nope!” Niya covered her ears as she backed toward the portal. “You’ve officially ruined this farewell. I will look forward to you making it up to me later. Now, goodbye!”

  She turned, slipping from the Thief Kingdom and back into the warm cabin aboard the Crying Queen. Scooping up the portal token, she slammed the portal door shut behind her.

  Two sets of eyes and the muffled sound of lapping waves greeted her.

  “Welcome back,” said Alōs from where he sat behind his desk
, amber glass in hand. Through his windowpanes rested a dark sea, the moon only a crescent of light.

  Kintra was in one of two chairs across from him, ankle on knee, sharing a similar drink.

  She eyed Niya suspiciously as she drew near.

  “Come, sit with us.” Alōs poured Niya a glass from the bottle on his desk, sliding it toward her.

  She took it, slipping into a chair.

  Alōs was freshly washed, his inky hair sweeping his shoulders, pristine black shirt rolled up at the sleeves and hugging his broad chest.

  The blank line of their binding bet was now reduced to a mere square on the top of his wrist. Niya forced herself not to look at her own, to see the last mark that bound her to this man.

  Free.

  Soon she would be free.

  The word no longer seemed to hold its sweet allure.

  “We are having a celebratory drink,” said Alōs. “Also one of clemency, for it appears there might be some . . . retained hostility between you two.”

  Niya raised her brows, looking at Kintra. “If there is anger in the air, it is not coming from me.”

  “You used your magic on me, again,” said the quartermaster, fire in her brown eyes.

  “Yes, because you were trying to skewer me with your knife. I told you the truth about trying to help Alōs. It is not my fault you wished to not believe me. If anything, it is I who should be angry with you.”

  The quartermaster snorted her incredulity before tipping back the rest of her drink and slamming it onto Alōs’s desk. She stood. “I find this useless, Captain. Can we just agree that she and I will not be chumming it up anytime soon? Plus, she’ll be leaving. There is no point in it.”

  There is no point in it.

  The words hit up against Niya, tangling with her own uncertainties regarding her and Alōs.

  I’ll be leaving. There is no point in it.

  A squeeze to her heart.

  “Listen, it’s obvious my presence offends you,” she said to Kintra. “But perhaps it has less to do with me and you and more to do with you and Alōs.”

  Kintra glared down at her. “And what does that mean?”