I wiggle my fingers. Stretch them. I look it over, front and back. What just happened? I gaze at him, mouth hanging open. Speechless. He doesn’t acknowledge the task he just accomplished. As if it’s no different than spooning your mouth full of oats to feed yourself. Instead, he continues his lecture.
“I would like to guide you. Help you control your destructive outbursts. I offer you amnesty if you will stay under my roof. I can—”
“No!” I shout, despite what he just did for me. And without thinking, I dash for the door.
I manage to open it and escape to the other side. Ellia could have easily grabbed me, but she didn’t. When I realize nobody is going to follow me, the wind leaves my sails, and my rage subsides. But I continue running through the halls with less spark and without direction, through a maze of corridors.
I turn a corner, in full sprint, and slam into someone, knocking us both to the ground. I rub my head as I get up, allowing some time to gather my wits before I focus on who or what I ran into.
Her platinum hair and crystalline eyes are unmistakable. And her fair skin of near perfection with soft, innocent features. There’s not a scratch on her. “A-Astor?”
Despite the growing religion, the war is at large. The crimson shadows bleed from Azure, and survival remains an everyday challenge. Yet I find myself seeking pleasures. Is man so self-indulged he cannot control himself even at the darkest of hours? Or is it instinct? Ingrained within to ensure the longevity of our kind.
26 Stone
“T
hank you, lad, for saving my…uh…for saving my life. I…uh…I know my crude temperament says otherwise, but your actions have not gone unappreciated. I am the way I am because somebody’s got to keep the crew in line. And that includes you. I hope you understand that.” Captain Crowbill opens up.
We’re both leaning against the rail, looking out to the approaching city. The Phish Skooler floats into the Crimson Harbor, the helmsman maneuvering her rather skillfully with all the other vessels coming and going. The Crimson Capital is the central hub of commerce and it’s well on display here at the port. It’s been a fortnight since the gator incident, and the captain hasn’t said much about it since. I don’t know where he stands or whether proving the potential of my talent will reinforce his decision to keep me on his ship. But I have a feeling I’m about to find out.
“You’re not going to cry, are you, Captain?” I ask lightheartedly.
His face gets disgruntled, and an open hand rises in the air, but he pauses there. He lowers it and smiles. “I overheard the crew harassing you. About your past. And…well…I just want to say, I don’t believe Stripe is too far off with his version of the tale. Sailing with a man, even for a fleeting period, can tell you a lot about his character. And I know you had nothing to do with your parents’ deaths. I’d try to help you out, but all I know is baitin’ and hookin’. I don’t know about that whole Shaman talk the crew is mumbling, but I do know whatever you did to me requires incredible talent. And if you faced the Taoiseach once before, then you can do it again. Go in there with confidence, lad, because you have the talent to back it.”
Shaman? Go in there with confidence. “What are you saying, sir?”
“Well, I can’t bloody blackmail you after you saved my life. It ain’t right.” He raises his left arm and wiggles his fingers. “I will never be able to repay you for this.” He places that hand upon his chest. “Or this.” He thumps his hand gently over his heart.
A silent moment passes between us. I don’t know how to tell him. And for all I know, it could change his mind about me. But it wouldn’t be right to let him believe he owes me his life. “Captain, sir. I have something to confess. I didn’t save you.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Captain…I know what it feels like to regenerate the wounded, and it wasn’t the same with you. It…it was different somehow. Not the same as when I regenerated all those small animals as a child or when I tried to help Jay.”
“Lad, I know when I opened my eyes you were the one hovering over me. I don’t care whether you felt all warm and tingly inside or as empty as an angler’s flask when the fish ain’t runnin’. You did something to keep me going, and I’m thankful for that.” Crowbill pauses then opens his mouth to say something more, but he hesitates.
“Sorry for mocking you just now. About crying and all.” Not that his thick skin can’t deflect it, but I feel the need to apologize.
“That’s something you’re going to have to corral now that you’re in the capital, lad. You’re not angling with a few soggy-footed cutthroats anymore. You’re stepping into the lion’s den where comments like that will leave you belly up in some back alley in a puddle of your own entrails. The Crimson Capital ain’t a place for a high-born orphaned fugitive who’s looking for revenge. Now that it ain’t forced, the offer to continue upriver is, and always will be on the table if you want to be a part of the Phish Skooler.”
“No thank you, Captain, sir. Your crew is nearly enough to tilt my decision, but you…” I place a hand on his shoulder and try to withhold a smile. “…no thanks.” And I disappear into the cabin.
I should still be furious at this man. Only moments ago, I was unsure where he stood with me. He let weeks go by without a word about it. He befriended me, gave me guidance as I continued the duties of deckhand—they wouldn’t let me touch the booms again—but never once did he tell me he had the heart to let me get back to my freedom. I had the impression I would have to risk my life to get off his boat. But somehow, I knew. I knew as the Crimson Harbor came into view I was going to walk off this ship. Not swim. Not flee. Walk.
Whether the crew recognized Captain Crowbill’s extortion or not remains unknown. I pack my few belongings—a cloak, a nearly empty purse, and Life Bringer—and several of the crew interrupt me to say their farewells. It’s a quick goodbye. Fika offered them an afternoon to satisfy their fancies and tidy up their debts before setting off upriver toward the sockeye run. So, many of them eagerly disappear into the horde about the port.
I approach the captain, who’s still holding up the rail, and speak in a somber tone. “I must find my sister.”
“I know, lad. I know. And after all I’ve put you through, you still have quite an adventure ahead of you. Remember, you’ll always have a place on the Phish Skooler shall we meet up again. And a word of advice…”
“Yes,” I say apprehensively.
“Steer clear of the Academy. Those students are the Taoiseach’s soldiers-in-training, and he has a tight leash on all of ‘em. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll be discovered if you get too close. If one of them discovers you, the Taoiseach discovers you. Be careful, lad.”
“I’ll consider your advice, but I don’t know if I have a choice.”
“You always have a choice. Do you have a semblance of where to start?”
“Uh…” I scratch my head and look out over the Crimson Harbor. There are cranes loading vessels, and hand carts transferring back and forth to carriages, unloading and loading goods. Ox-drawn carriages scurry off into the city beyond while citizens scuttle about everywhere—some working, some peddling. And the buildings are large and small, more than I can count. The multitude of it all is overwhelming. I suppose there is much opportunity, but the more people I talk to, the more vulnerable I am. “Uh…the Taoiseach’s Manor,” I answer.
Captain Crowbill bellows out a big laugh. “Yeah, try walking up to those walls and asking to get in. I’m sure they’ll give you a pardon while you’re at it.” He pats me on the back then raises it to twiddle his digits, admiring his newly acquired hand. “How about Madrone’s Mistress. Those girls have an ear for all the sailors and drifters visiting the capital. If your sister is here, one of them is likely to know, but it’ll cost you a rib or two. Here. To get you started.” He tosses me a bag of coin. Judging by the weight, he’s given me enough for multiple visits to Madrone’s Mistress.
“Th-thanks, Captain.”
&
nbsp; “I’m no longer your captain. Call me Fika.”
“Thank you, Fika.” I shake his hand firmly, and he does the same in return.
He pulls me in and embraces me with a sturdy pat on the back. “Thank you, Stone. Thank you.”
I disembark the ship to start my indefinite search for Jaymes.
“Oh…and Stone.”
“Elder.” My brow tightens as I correct him. My alias is a must while roving so close to the enemy.
“Oh, right…Elder Alderock. Don’t try wrangling any alligators anytime soon. You aren’t ready for it.”
“Agreed,” I reply, sensing a mutual respect after what we’ve been through.
The Crimson Capital is a large city located at the southern end of the Supple Valley with the Scarlet River flowing directly through it. It’s a city of the Old Races. There are inspiring structures no man would be able to recreate today and hidden treasures all throughout, but it is also overgrown with filth and maggots.
The density of the city out-measures all townships, villages, and camps in Azure combined. Along the riverbanks is where it’s most dense. All trade, manufacturing, and business of any kind happen along these piers that branch off from the main thoroughfare. Where the money is made also draws the crime. The inner-city slums house all the poverty-stricken and desperate commoners, which borders the markets and warehouses along the main arterial. And any alley straying away from the main artery of the city is layered with the desperate. Although not all commoners are criminals, it’s the popular occupation in Tombtrough, the slums of the city. The few that aren’t criminals are typically preyed upon and taken advantage of, making it difficult for them to work their way into a better life. It’s not a very desirable place to be. And it’s exactly where I’m headed.
When the Captain shared the name and location, I thought I’d be walking into a filthy pillow house filled with gutter rats and parasites. Madrone’s Mistress, on the other hand, is surprisingly elegant and clean, and leaves me feeling underdressed as I step through the door.
I also suspected the venue to be named after the madam of the house, but it is obviously a theme. Madrone trees climb the walls in the lounge, and a handful of branches and roots encroach into the functional space, modified into benches or tables. What’s more appealing is the aroma that fills the air. It’s not of bourbon and coitus, as I would predict, but something fresh and delightful. Strawberries maybe.
After silently approving the establishment, I approach the matron standing behind the bar. She’s a beautiful woman, probably more so in her earlier days, but still appealing to gaze upon with wild brunette hair and a dark-red corset shaping her healthy womanly figure. Although, the façade on her face is a bit overpowering with enough color to pass for a jester.
“Is this the place to come for information?” I ask.
“The place to come, yes.” She bats her colorful eyelashes with a taunting grin. “But you’ve got it wrong, sweetie. This is the place to come if you’re looking to tickle your fancy.”
I can see she doesn’t want any part of my troubles. “Ah, never mind. I’m searching for a missing girl. I needn’t burden you.” I slouch and turn away.
“Missing girl, eh? You’ve definitely come to the right place if you’re looking for a girl. What’s your flavor? Tall? Petite? Rough? Healthy?” She squeezes her bosom and bats her eyelashes again. “Don’t get too excited, lad. I’m not available.”
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I’m seeking a…uh…a friend. Not one of...” I pause and look about the establishment. Several couples are hidden in corners dimly lit with romantic lighting. “Not one of your girls. Well…I hope she’s not one of your girls. Her name is Jaymes. Though…she might be using an alias. I don’t know.”
“Virgin?”
“What? No. I mean…” I lose my words and grow hot.
“A virgin? Are you interested? That usually hooks the tough ones.” She raises a brow and ponders for a moment. I remain silent, unsure what to say that won’t make me more embarrassed. “I’ll tell you what, Ash over there might be able to help you find what you need, but she won’t divulge information so easily. How about I introduce you?”
“Ash? Aren’t pillow names typically something like Cocoa or Honey? Ash just sounds dirty.”
“Dirty if that’s what tickles your fancy, but I assure you she’s as clean as they come. Ashiela’s her name, but she prefers Ash. Interested?”
“Yes, but I’d like to be clear, I’m not here to, uh…tickle my fancy. I only want to talk. I have plenty of copper ribs if that’s what it takes.”
“With Ash, you better plan on giving her more than a few ribs,” the Matron advises.
“Huh?”
She waves the young girl over. My face burns hotter than before, and I can’t seem to stop staring. She poses at a window looking over her shoulder at us. Her petite silhouette is that of an angel, and the slight glimmer from the thunder lanterns above illuminates the soft curves of her arched back down to her legs. A rose camisole enhances her bust, and provocative undergarments barely cover her rear. Undergarments I didn’t know existed. Every curvature of her body is visible. I find myself suddenly warm and embarrassed for staring at her.
“Hello, sweetie,” the Matron says to Ash.
“Hi, Cocoa,” Ash replies as she approaches.
I look to the Matron, ashamed, wondering why she didn’t scold me for my presumptuous comment a moment ago.
“Who’s this young one? He looks to be straight off his mom’s teat. Are you old enough to be in here?”
“Err… Yes, I’m old enough,” I assure her.
“Is that so? What can you show me then?” Her hands caress my shoulders and casually run down my chest.
I pull her hands away, instantly regretting it. And hopeful I wasn’t too aggressive with my knee-jerk response.
“Sorry. I’m not actually... I’m only here for…” I can’t seem to speak full sentences. “Err…information.”
“Well, I’ll leave you two to get acquainted with each other,” the Matron interrupts, and she struts back to her place behind the bar.
“Information, huh? I might be able to help, but, umm…” She smiles and forces her hand between my legs. “Ooh!” She squeezes while batting her eyelashes. “Is that what I get in return?”
I retrieve a handful of ribs from my purse and open my palm. To my surprise, there are several gold ribs and a few silvers. I snap my fingers closed and shuffle them back in, scrambling to find a few coppers. I know better than to flaunt coin like that in a place like this. But I never thought Fika would be gracious enough to offer me such a fortune. I hold out three coppers.
She slides her hand from my groin and closes my fist around the coin, looking about suspiciously to see if anyone is watching. “That’s a start, I suppose…” she whispers. “But I’ll need more than that. Follow me.”
I don’t know if I like where this is heading.
Ash grazes my hand with gentle fingers and interlocks them with my own. She examines it momentarily, leaving me confounded, then smiles and leads me up a flight of stairs. She takes a seat on a bed, twisting her fingers in and out of her hair, and motions for me to join her.
“Ash, please, I’m only here to find my sis…uh…a friend, I mean. That’s all.”
“And I’m only here to educate you.” She smiles. “Sit down.”
I submit and take a seat, ensuring there is plenty of distance between us. She absolves that immediately by scooting closer. Her eyes are beautiful. Seductive. Looking into them alone fashions temptation. With her soft, silky skin and revealing undergarments, she is nearly irresistible. Her leg touches mine just the slightest, and my insides flutter and grow warm. She places her hand on my thigh, and I shudder.
“Easy,” she whispers.
I have to resist. I must. I’m here for Jaymes. I can’t spare time for my own desires. I shuffle, nearing the end of the bed.
“I have a confession to make…”
I say, hoping my lack of experience will turn her away. “I…umm…I’ve never been with a woman…before.”
Ash looks at me with a sincere smile and laces her fingers through my own as she scoots closer. She places my hand on her inner thigh. Her skin is so soft and warm. My fingers roam with a noticeable quiver. She adjusts to face me and places both hands on my shoulders, focusing on me. “It’s okay. I’ve never been with a man before.”
Now she just mocks me. I force my hand away. “I’m serious. I don’t appreciate you making light of it.”
“I wouldn’t ever,” Ash replies. She grabs my hand again with both of hers and holds it. “I know you think me a liar, and that is understandable. How could a pillow girl be a maiden, for Susy’s sake? But that is not my role here. I’m honest when I say I’ve never been with a man. My maidenhood has yet to be taken from me and I don’t intend to change that.”
“Then, what are we doing?” I ask.
“Just because I’ve never been with a man in that sense, doesn’t mean I haven’t experienced a man.” She slips off her camisole and pulls my hand to her chest, forcing—or rather guiding—me to caress her breasts. “You want something I have, and I want something you have. It’s only fair we trade.”
The touch of her soft skin pushes me beyond resistance. I surrender to my urges and impulsively squeeze harder.
“Softer,” she commands. I ease up, and a shuddering breath escapes her. She guides my hand down her abdomen until it slips between her legs. She lies back on the bed, her supple figure screaming for me to grab hold.
Utterly confused of what I am expected to do with my hand between her legs, I do what I desire and massage her, attempting to follow her cues until her body tenses and shivers. Eyes closed and her tender lips partly open, she breathes heavily. I cannot resist. I lean over top of her and kiss her lips. And I kiss her neck. I move lower and kiss her midsection, then lower. The taste is suspiciously sweet, like a strawberry.
Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Page 31