Pirate Queen

by H. N. Klett

  Grandmother Rose went inside to check on the servants, making sure that every red-haired one of them was hard at work making desserts for the evening. Hailey used the moment’s distraction to try and sneak off to her room, but her grandmother caught sight of her and called out to her.

  “Young lady, are you going into the house like that?”

  Hailey stopped and looked down at herself. She hadn’t noticed how grimy and sweaty she had become from cleaning the mansion. She looked as if she was wearing years’ worth of grime and neglect.

  Her grandmother came up to her, nose wrinkled.

  “Honestly, Hailey. You smell awful!” Grandmother Rose took Hailey by the arm and marched her out to the bath house.

  “Scrub up for the party. I’ll have one of the servants bring you a fresh towel when you are done, then you can go in and get dressed.

  Heated bath houses were quite the luxury in the colonies, even one as old as this one. Piping in water to homes was simple enough. As tree homes were shaped, they would run water lines to irrigate, so it was only natural and easy to pressurize them and tap them at various places throughout a house, but they were never heated before. To heat water for a bath, one would have to go to the cook house and boil it in a pot over a fire, an often long and backbreaking process, so most just went for cold showers or bucket baths.

  One day Orin returned from a cargo run from the capital with a surprise—one of the magic heating boxes. Hailey didn’t know how he got it or even what one would pay for such a thing, all she knew after her first warm tub was that she never wanted to take a cold shower again.

  Hailey entered the bath house and locked the door behind her, glad to have a moment alone, but it was only a moment. As soon as she slipped into the warm tub of water, her grandmother began to harass her through the walls.

  “Now, Hailey, there will be several guests from the noble houses as well as the Governor. You don’t have to socialize with them long, but I do want them to get a good look at you. There should be plenty of eligible young men your age you can socialize with.”

  Hailey tried to ignore her and enjoy a nice soak before being put on display again. As she’d suspected, this party wasn’t about propriety or altruism after all. It was about Rose’s hunt for the best trophy husband for her granddaughter. One she could brag to the ladies at the tea stand for decades to come. Since Grandmother Rose was in charge of the guest list, only the wealthiest and most ambitious men would be there. How could they say no? In the social circles, this event was like a candle to a moth. What better way to get all the rich prospects in the region to come to them than to host the arrival of the island’s new governor?

  Hailey settled back into the warm tub, letting her ears sink below the water line to drown out her grandmother’s words.

  The party began early in the evening, giving the guests plenty of time to be fashionably late. The colonial mansion was an oddity. It was the only building not made from a molded and shaped tree, instead it was a large white box that looked like someone placed there. It was larger than most of the other houses being that Daden was once the heart of the western exploration and expansion effort of the Crown. It was two to three times the size of that of their neighbors, but even then the party spilled out to the long and lush front and back lawns for those who had tired of dancing or eaten their fill at the buffet.

  Hailey felt uncomfortable in her lacy white dress, feeling like she wasn’t wearing it so much as being possessed by it. Visually it was stunning, complete with a beautiful red ribbon as a flair, but wearing it was torturous to her. It hugged her just enough in some places and was loose enough in others to give her the illusion of an hourglass figure. Moving was awkward, with the clinginess of the top of the dress contrasted by the breezy and flowing bell of the skirt of the dress, though Hailey managed.

  She was lovely, at least that was what every gentleman told her as she and her grandmother greeted them at the door. Her grandmother’s response every time was the same.

  “Thank you, she takes after me.”

  Her grandmother made every effort to introduce Hailey to every eligible bachelor, and after each one she gave Hailey a short, whispered briefing on their status, approximately how much wealth they had, and topics to talk with them about later. Grandmother Rose gave the impression of more being her broker than a matron in those moments, but it was to be expected. As it was taught in schools and in their primers, it was one of the main reasons people went to these events—the quest to raise one’s social status and earning potential through the divine right of marriage. At least, that’s how the Church decreed it.

  After most of the nobles had arrived, Hailey seized on the opportunity to excuse herself from her hostess duties under the guise of going to talk to one of the bachelors. Hailey’s grandmother approved of her prudence, noting that most of the others coming in weren’t much of an advancement for her in wealth, status, or looks and sent her on her way.

  Looking around, the party had proved to be an immense success, but the crowd seemed restless. There were several heads of guilds, wealthy merchants by the score, and nobles from all across the island, but the bishop had yet to arrive.

  Hailey made her way over to the buffet table on the side of the great room. Talking with so many young nobles and pretending to laugh at their corny jokes made her throat dry. She had done her best, though, and the times she saw her grandmother pass by to check on her, she was beaming.

  “Hailey, I need to talk to you.” Hailey felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see her father standing there. She was surprised to see him. Before the party started he had disappeared, called away to the Merchant’s Guild on an urgent matter.

  Before she could respond, someone dressed in the scarlet of the Royal Guard blasted a horn from the door, demanding everyone’s attention. The crowd pressed to the door, all hoping to be the first to greet one of the highest representatives of the Church of the Ancestors. Hailey’s grandmother may have been old, even ancient by some standards, but she was not without strength or motivation. She plowed her way through the pack of well-wishers and arrived at the threshold of the door just in time to greet the bishop.

  Hailey and her father watched mutely. Neither of them could get a look at him through the crush of the crowd. Hailey hoped the distraction would last just a bit longer, but her father would not wait. He turned her away from the crowds and spoke in a low voice.

  “Hailey, where is it? Is it here?”

  Her mind flashed instantly to the book. She had hidden it in her room before the party, unable to keep it on her in such a form-fitting dress. Her father had gone through her room in the past, she was sure of it, but he had yet to find her secret hiding place.

  “Is w-w-what here?” she stammered.

  “You know what. The book.” He glared at her.

  A new voice, one she had never heard before, came from directly behind them.

  “Books? Oh, I simply love books!”

  She turned to see her grandmother standing there on the arm of a tall, slender man with high cheekbones and a light brown complexion. He was dressed in a dark, rich blue jacket and pants accented with woven gold on the sleeves and collar. It was the dapper man she had seen the day before, both in the market as well as on the boat. Not only was he wearing the same outfit, he still held that creepy smile with almost too many teeth.

  He smiled at Orin and said, “So do you, from what I hear.” He cocked his head at Orin, leaning in. “At least, that’s what Captain Langen tells me!” And then he winked mischievously at him.

  “Bishop Graver, this is my son, Orin Heartstone, and my young granddaughter, Hailey,” she said proudly.

  Orin and Hailey stood there, stunned. Rose cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows at them to snap them out of it as the bishop stood there, still grinning. Orin gave a slight bow and Hailey gave a curtsey. The bishop’s gaze, still locked on Orin, then shifted to Hailey, giving her the impression of a lighthouse beacon swiveling to catc
h her in its sights. She tried to avoid his eyes, but he stepped closer to her.

  “Yes, a lovely young lady!”

  He looked at her for a long moment. Almost too long. Hailey felt as though he was examining her instead of greeting her. Suddenly and quickly, he pivoted to her grandmother, saying, “She must take after you, naturally!” He had more than just a little twinkle in his eye when he said it. Having her line stolen, Rose could only force a laugh and nod her agreement.

  Graver swiveled his attentions back to Hailey, taking her by the hand. She stood there trapped, caught in a grip that was just gentle enough but certainly firm. His eyes never left her face, as if he were searching for something.

  “Bishop Jacob Graver, at your service.” He bowed to her hand. Hailey blushed and didn’t know what to do, so she looked to her grandmother for guidance. Rose raised her eyebrow at Hailey and mouthed the words, “Pleased to meet you” at her.

  “Pleased to meet you?” It came out like a question, though Hailey didn’t intend it to.

  The bishop smiled brightly and let her hand go as he straightened up.

  “The pleasure is all mine!” He smiled at her with his toothy grin, making Hailey feel uncomfortable. The man was a bishop for the Church of the Ancestors, one of the leaders of faith and education. They were the embodiment of propriety and one of the most powerful allies the Crown had ever known. The Crown controlled the magic and the markets and the Church controlled the printing of books and the faith of the flock. The marriage between the two powers signaled the consolidation of the Queen’s ambitions to control the hearts and minds of her subjects.

  Though this man was supposed to be a shepherd to the faithful, she didn’t like the way the bishop looked at her. She didn’t feel like a member of the flock. She felt like prey.

  “Back to books,” he said, addressing Orin. “I know you are quite the fan of literature. Good taste, mind you. I’m sure that you have passed on that passion to your daughter. In fact, just yesterday I saw her in the market reading when I went to have tea.”

  Hailey’s grandmother looked horrified. “Sir, you astonish me! I had no idea you had arrived! Had I known, I would have welcomed you sooner!”

  “Don’t trouble yourself, madam. I didn’t let anyone know I was here. I like to walk around in the crowd unnoticed. It lets me see things more clearly, see how things are. I had to tip my hat to your young daughter yesterday,” he said, turning his head back to Orin, addressing him but still facing the rest of his body toward Hailey. “She was so engrossed in reading she hardly noticed anything around her. It was only by chance that she looked up and saw me.” He turned to Hailey. “So what book had you so fascinated?”

  Hailey had to think fast. Something in his gaze told her that he knew something, and she was in great danger. She couldn’t break eye contact with him and she felt her father’s and grandmother’s eyes on her.

  She said the only thing she could think of.

  “I was reading my primer.”

  It was a response that seemed to surprise both her father as well as Bishop Graver.

  She forced her shoulders into a slight slump. If she was going to sell this, she would have to play the part well. She let her cheeks drop and her body cringe slightly as she broke her gaze with Bishop Graver and looked at her grandmother as she spoke.

  “I was supposed to read my primer on my trip and I didn’t. I was trying to catch up before the party.” She lowered her head to her grandmother as if to apologize. She hadn’t completely lied, but the discomfort she displayed was real. She didn’t like to lie, even a little one, but in this case she had to.

  “I see. Good to see such a keen interest in such an important book. It gives such a wondrous comfort. Unfortunately, in my haste to get here I forgot mine in the palace in the capitol. Perhaps I can borrow yours?”

  Hailey froze. The Church printed the primers and taught from them on a daily basis in their schools and churches. He had access to any number of primers. Why would he want hers?

  She could see it in his searching eyes. This man didn’t want her primer. He was after the book. A cold chill hit her as she realized that she had to do everything she could to be sure he didn’t get it.

  The Crown had too much power. Power they wielded like a hammer to any that would stand against them. At first they used their magics to decimate those that resisted their order, but that had changed when the Veiled Queen took the throne. Hailey knew from her father’s books that after taking the throne from her late husband, the Queen learned to control the people through a more subtle and insidious method.

  The Crown gave the colonies magic devices that controlled everything keeping the towns going. The lights, weather forecasters, miracle medicines, even the devices that brought water into their homes. It was a wonderful boon to the colonies, and they flourished because of it, but it all came with a price. If you displeased the Crown in any way, they would remind you of life before their magic, forcing you to live like a primitive. The Crown no longer had to threaten to attack and invade the colonies as they had 100 years ago, all they had to do was withdraw their magics and the people would beg them to come back.

  She knew then that her book had power. A raw, living power the likes of which the world had never seen. It gave the user an Ancestor-sized view of their living world and hinted at treasures beyond imagining. The idea of giving this over to the Crown bothered her more than any amount of lying. She couldn’t let another powerful tool fall into the Queen’s clutches. She had known firsthand the terrible things the Queen could do to people. She had seen it with her mother’s death.

  Her father picked up on her distress and leapt into the conversation.

  “It was her mother’s,” he said, and Rose shot him a look of surprise, but didn’t say anything. “It was passed down to her after her mother died at Cowl’s Ridge. We thought it would be a good way to bring her closer to her mom.”

  At the mention of Cowl’s Ridge, the bishop wisely did not reply. He simply allowed the moment of gravity to settle and, after a slight pause, carried the conversation away from the topic.

  “Ah. How unfortunate. Well, no bother. It’s a fine thing when a young lady carries on tradition and decides to take an interest in the teachings of the Ancestors on proper etiquette,” he said, then took another tack. “Perhaps one day you will join me during one of my private tea parties?”

  Hailey’s grandmother gasped in surprise.

  He continued. “I usually host a small reading circle with a few select people. Granted, the books aren’t as engrossing as the primer, but we manage.” He tried to sound casual. “I can send you an invitation the next time we get together, if you like.”

  Hailey’s grandmother, anxious to take back control of the situation, leapt in.

  “She would be delighted!” she said, positively beaming at the bishop. She hadn’t quite gotten his attention away from Hailey, so she gently turned him towards her son.

  “Now, Bishop…”

  He turned to her and playfully said to her. “Oh, please, call me Jacob.”

  She blushed and tittered, “Oh, well, yes, Jacob. My son, Orin, is the head of the Merchant’s Guild here in Daden. Being that you are the chief Crown representative, I am sure that you two have much to discuss.”

  The bishop turned and began to speak with Orin, and Hailey took that as her cue to go. She left the two men to their conversation, her grandmother hovering and holding back the line of people who wanted to see the bishop and shooing away anyone who tried to interrupt.

  Hailey had to get to the book. To check on it. To make sure it was safe. It was a compulsion, like a compass that pointed her to it.

  If Bishop Graver really knew she had the book, it would only be a matter of time before Crown troops would come to search their house, as they had the Arrow. She had to make sure it was safe. She could still feel the bishop’s eyes following her as she snaked her way through the crowd, so she avoided going out the main door and slipped out
through the pantry and into the backyard. There were a few people on the lawn, but they were so engrossed in their conversations they took little notice of her.

  She slipped around the hedges that encircled the mansion and made her way down the empty streets back to her home.

  There were no lights on in the house and she knew the doors would be locked, so she made her way around the large tree. After checking to make sure no one was watching, Hailey kicked off her shoes and started to climb. She was just as nimble making her way up the tree as she had been on the rigging, but this time she had to take her time getting up the tree because of her dress. She didn’t want to have to suffer her grandmother’s wrath for getting it dirty or ripped, so she tried her best to scale the tree branches without getting anything on it. As she climbed the branches, she couldn’t help but feel as though there were eyes upon her. She reached the window, climbed inside, and looked back to see if anyone had seen her.

  Satisfied no one was there, she closed the window behind her. She padded across the room and quietly turned the lock on her door. She touched the light globe in the wall and it began to fill the room with a soft glow. She could see the symbol of the Crown and Veil at the base, mildly glowing its constant reminder of who the light came from.

  She slipped out of her dress and put on a simple white shirt and tan long shorts before she went to retrieve the book from its hiding place.

  Hailey hoped it would be hours before either her father or grandmother noticed she wasn’t at the party anymore, being so tied up with the bishop and all of the guests. She needed the time alone to figure out what to do next.

  She had to consult the book.

  Chapter 9

  Her mind raced as she knelt before her dresser and dove her hands beneath it to recover the book. It was still there. Simply touching it gave her a slight sense of relief. The book seemed to know what was going on. Maybe it could tell her what to do? She rocked back on her knees and pulled it out. It was as if the skull was looking right up at her.