by G. Bailey
“I’m sorry, Everly,” I say, and she nods, still watching me with a slight bit of fear in her eyes. A banging against the front door makes us both jump and Everly motions for me to hide. I go into the under the stairs closet as Everly opens the door. The familiar sound of Miss Drone’s voice drifts to me, and I sigh with relief, leaning my back against the dusty shelves. I open the door and Miss Drone is standing there, her hands on her hips, waiting for me. She looks sorry for me, an emotion I haven’t seen on her face since I was a child. The last time I saw it was when I cut my foot on a bit of sharp wood in the garden. I cried and cried for my mother that day. My father simply told me to grow up and left the house. Miss Drone came a few hours later and looked after me, with that look of sympathy. I was only eight.
“We have to leave, now,” she says. I look her over, noticing the big, black cloak she has on and the large, brown bag she’s holding. I know she would have had this planned for a while, just in case. My father would kill me himself before handing me to the king, that much I know. So, escaping is the only other option I have.
“Where?” I ask, not really wanting to hear her answer, because I know it won’t be good.
“To the sea, to Twogan,” she says, confirming my worst thoughts. It’s the only place I can go, to the sea.
“The Green Sea is full of poison! No one goes that way, Mother. We should send her to Foten, across the Blue Sea,” Everly says in anger. The sea between Onaya and Twogan is called the Green Sea, because it is literally green and covered in fog. If you could get a boat and maybe stay afloat in the rough waters, the fog would make you lost. Foten is no better; the king lives in his castle on Foten, and it wouldn’t be easy for me to hide there. The island is crawling with guards.
“They are looking for her there,” Miss Drone tells Everly, her tone affectionate, and I swallow the bitter feeling of jealously. It’s a pointless emotion to feel when I know I’m leaving them both soon.
“Anyway, your father has a boat ready for you. It’s been ready for years in case something happens. When he hears about you being seen, he will direct attention away from the boat,” Miss Drone tells me. She places the bag on the floor and opens it up. I watch as she pulls out a blue cloak with a large hood.
“Put it on, we don’t have a lot of time. The more time we waste, the more people know about you,” she tells me. I take the cloak from her, looking down at the rough material and knowing when I put this on, I’ll have to say goodbye to my life in this house. I glance around the room, looking at the red wallpapered walls, the piles of books on the stairs, and finally to the painting of some mountains hung on the wall. I wonder if my mother ever looked at these paintings. I’ve wondered about my mother more times than I can remember. Leaving this house feels like I’m leaving the only part of her I have ever had. I look down at the cloak one more time before I wrap it over my shoulders. Once it’s tied and the hood is up, Miss Drone opens the door. Everly goes to walk out, and Miss Drone grabs her shoulder.
“No. This is my risk, not yours, Everly. You are all that I have left,” she tells her, and Everly shakes her head. Her eyes flittering between me and her mother.
“You’re not coming. They would kill you for knowing about me, and I can’t let that happen. I wouldn’t take your mother with me if there was any other way. I want to know you’re safe here, because you’re like a sister to me,” I tell Everly, and she stares at me. She looks down at the floor, a slight sniffle escaping her before she walks over to me.
“I will see you again. The people are so wrong,” Everly says, and she throws herself into my arms. “If you survive this, you will finally be free. Tonight was just a taste of the adventure you can have,” she whispers in my ear, and I nod. I can’t agree with her, because I know there is little chance I’ll survive this.
“Thanks, Ev. I will see you again,” I tell her, not wanting to upset her, and she steps away. She wipes her tears away and gives me a little smile.
“Make sure you kiss that man and live for me,” I say, and she laughs.
“I love you, Cass, and I will see you again. Who knows? Maybe the changed ones won’t always be hunted,” she says, and I can’t answer her as I turn to walk away. I step outside my house and pull the door closed, pausing with my hand on the doorknob. I want to open it and hide in my room, but I know I can’t. I know there’s nothing I want to take with me, nothing other than my mother’s necklace which I’m already wearing. The house is full of old things, but most of them are my fathers’. There are no small paintings of my mother, no childhood mementoes I want to keep.
This house has always been more like a prison than a home for me. I let go of the doorknob and turn to face Miss Drone. She nods and turns to walk down the path to the gates.
“Do you remember what I taught you about Twogan?” she asks as we walk slowly, only the sound of distant owls can be heard in the distance.
“It’s mainly covered in trees. They grow an unnatural pink, like the rest of the plants on the island. There is a small town, and they live off the fruit from the trees, but it causes their hair and eyes to change colour,” I say. There has only been one person who came to Onaya from Twogan, around two years ago. Everly told me about the man’s purple hair, an odd colour. The man told Everly and others about how the animals on the island are different colours, too.
“Yes, so you should be able to find shelter and feed yourself. We know you can defend yourself, if you need to,” she says reminding me of all the training she did with me growing up. I can fight, I’m good with a sword, but I’ve only ever practised against Miss Drone and Everly. They aren’t as strong as most men, and it was never a real fight. I have no doubt I wouldn’t do as well against someone who was trying to hurt me. My father refused to practise fighting with me. I have practised fighting a tree in the garden, but that is of little use.
“If I make it across the sea,” I say, replying to her answer as she closes the gates behind us.
“I never told you about the changed ones. The stories that are told of your kind,” Miss Drone says as we take a sharp right down a deserted road. I can hear shouts in the distance, making me nervous. This road is quiet, with no houses and just trees on each side.
“The changed ones were not always feared. They were worshipped like gods. They say their powers were tied to elements, and they looked after the land,” Miss Drone says, shocking me. I glance at her, but I can’t see her in the darkness. I can just about see the path in front of us, thanks to the stars.
“What happened then?” I ask her because I cannot believe that people used to like changed ones. I know nothing of my kind, other than the stories about the one who destroyed everything.
“Something went wrong when one changed one decided to misuse his power. No one is sure why he did, but there was little left after he destroyed so much,” she says.
“Do you know what it was like before?” I ask her.
“The islands used to be two large lands, and the seas were travelled by many. Not just the pirates,” she says as we approach the wall. The wall towers into the sky, made of thick wood, and I have no idea how she plans for us to get out. The only way I know of, is the main gate, but there is no way we would be able to get past the guards. Miss Drone pulls out a lantern from the large bag she has, and I watch as she lights the candle inside with a matchstick.
She lifts the lantern up as she walks over to a part of the wall. It has a small blue flower painted on it, but you can’t see it unless you’re close. She pushes against it with her shoulder, and it opens. I would have never guessed there was a door there. I follow Miss Drone through the door, and she shuts it behind her. Only a blue flower shows where the door is; the wood just fits in perfectly.
“The land was destroyed, millions of people were killed, and the few changed ones that were left, were killed by order of the new king. I don’t know what you could become,” Miss Drone says to me and turns to walk towards the water. A boat is tied to the edge. It looks old a
nd not safe as the waves move it in the water. There’s a small sail and two oars in the boat. She puts the lantern and the bag in as well, and then steps back.
“I believe this is just your beginning. I never spoke a word about you, never a word, because I’ve always known we need the changed ones back,” she tells me, coming over to me and placing her hand on my shoulder.
“Why do you want us back when we destroyed the land and killed so many?” I ask, not understanding her logic.
“There is evil in every person, but there is also good. It is which part of ourselves we choose to side with that decides our future. Choose good, Cassandra, and the Sea God will reward you,” she says and steps away. I watch as she walks back to the wall and disappears through the door. I turn back to the Green Sea, the smell of salt water being carried in the breeze. The sea looks as awful as I could expect it to. The waves splash harshly against the rocks, and the fog makes it impossible to see much. I could sail straight into a rock and not see it coming. My hands shake a little as I watch the sea, knowing this is my only chance, and I force myself to remember that people have survived this trip before me.
I walk into the water, holding my dress and cloak up, but they still get wet as the waves splash, and I have to let them fall to hold on to a rock. My flat shoes are useless on the slimy rocks, and the water feels cold as it splashes against my legs. The wind howls, whipping the hood off my head, and my hair flicks around my face.
I climb into the creaky, old boat, every creak sounding louder than it should. After I undo the rope tying the boat to the shore, I undo the sail. The wind catches it and pushes us out to sea way too fast. I can’t even hold on to the rope to steer it and just manage to tie it to the wooden post on the boat. I guess going straight forward is better than nothing. The fog is awful as the boat pulls us through it, and I can’t see a thing as I put the oars in the holders at the sides of the boat to try and steer. I have no idea what I’m doing. I can’t see anything other than white fog and thick, green water. I try to look up, hoping to see the stars, but even the stars are lost to me.
My heart pounds when I see a massive shadow in the fog, right in front of me. I expect it to be a large rock, and I desperately try to untie the sail, so I can steer the boat out of the way. When I look up, I can see a mermaid statue attached to the front of a large ship as it appears through the fog. It’s so close, too close. The rest of the massive ship comes out of the fog as my boat seems to shoot towards it with the wind. I wrestle with the rope only to have my finger cut. It’s too tight, and the wind is too strong. I know I can’t move the boat in time. My small boat smashes into the side of the ship, the force knocking me out of the boat and straight into the cold water. The boat follows me under, smashing to pieces, and a part of wood catches my arm. Another bit of wood catches my necklace, ripping it off, and I reach to catch it, only to fail.
I panic as I flail my arms around, trying to get to the surface, but I can’t swim with the pressure of the cloak. The cloak pulls me down by my neck as I struggle to undo the clip, but the weight is too much. The thick, green water burns my eyes as I try to open them, and I can feel the water choking me with every breath. Just as I nearly get the string undone, another thick piece of wood slams into me, and my hands drift to my sides. The sea pushes me from side to side as I watch the top of the water. The green haze and the dim stars give off a certain kind of beauty. The last thing I see is a dark shape heading straight towards me as everything goes black.
6
Cassandra
“Did she drink a lot of the water?” a soothing, male voice asks, and I struggle to pull my eyes open as I hear another voice talk. The room smells like herbs, and it’s unfamiliar, but there is another smell that reminds me of the sea.
“No, I believe she will be fine. Have you ever seen a female changed one before?” another man replies. His voice is deep, and it sounds familiar. I try to pull myself awake to look, but I just feel sick instead.
“I will ask the others, but no, I haven’t. Well, other than the queen,” the man with the soothing voice replies. The room feels like it’s spinning just before I hear a door shut. I wonder why the room smells like herbs. I force myself to blink my eyes open and see I’m lying down on a small bed, the sheets are white, and the pillow is soft under my head. My hair feels slightly damp as I lift my head a little. The room is all wooden, and the small, circular window gives me the biggest hint that I’m on the ship I crashed into. It must be a pirate ship. I move the covers a little to see that my dress and necklace are gone. Instead, I’m wearing a long, white shirt. I can’t believe they changed my clothes, but I don’t feel like they have hurt me. Other than the dizziness, I feel fine. I sit up quickly and look around the dimly-lit room, seeing the light is coming from the small window.
“Be careful,” the soothing, deep voice of the man from before warns, and I shoot my gaze to the light-blond-haired man sitting on a desk on the other side of the room. He looks around my age, wearing a dark red shirt that shows off the middle of his chest. The shirt is tucked into black trousers, and he has a black bandana tied around his neck. He also has a necklace on, it’s long and has little white shells hanging from the silver chain. His hair is medium-length, tied low at the back of his head and pulled away from his handsome face.
The man is a pirate, not handsome.
“Who are you?” I ask as we both watch each other; his face is blurring a bit, and I know it’s from falling in that sea.
“Chaz, and you are?” he asks.
“Leaving,” I mutter and try to stand up off the bed. I fall straight to the ground with a smack. My body feels so weak, and the room blurs again. I hear Chaz as he jumps off the desk and runs over to me. He sighs before he picks me up and lays me back on the bed. He hands me the blanket and looks me over.
“You’re weak, but it should wear off soon. I gave you some paste for your arm, it’s where the sea has given you an infection,” he tells me, and I look at my arm. It’s tied up with a white bandage. I quickly move away from him and to the other side of the bed. The room spins as I do so.
“Here, have this,” Chaz says as he picks something up off the small dresser by the bed, his bright-green eyes locking with mine.
“What is it?” I ask, looking at the small, black cup he tries to hand me.
“Water, what else?” he says with a tired smile.
“You’re a pirate. Why would I trust it not to be poisoned?” I ask him. I watch him closely as he shakes his head at me. I don’t know why, but I feel slightly guilty for asking him that. I know he must have looked after me, but I just feel . . . I feel scared, and it’s not something I’m used to feeling.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do, changed one, but I suggest that not all rumours are true,” Chaz tells me. I frown at that. It’s well known that pirates do whatever they want. They own the waters, and they trade passage for food and treasure, but end up killing the ones who are careless enough to make a deal with them. They kill anyone they want and take what they want. Even the king trades food and gold with them, so they leave him alone.
Then again, the changed ones are meant to be all-powerful with the power to destroy the land and seas. I don’t have an ounce of power, and I’ve been hidden all my life for nothing. I guess if they wanted me dead, I would be. I wonder if it was Chaz who pulled me out of the water.
I take the glass, and he nods at me, his eyes looking me over before he steps away. I drink it, discovering that it is water. I feel a little silly for reacting so badly to him.
“Rest, I will keep you safe,” he tells me, his words soothing but protective. This pirate doesn’t know me, so why would he speak to me so kindly. I look over at him in confusion. I don’t get why they would save me from the water, why they would bother keeping me alive?
“Why?” I ask him.
“I may be a pirate, and you may be a changed one, but we are all still people. All people should know kindness, and I doubt you have had much of tha
t in your life,” he says, then walks away. I watch him pull a book off his desk and sit in the chair next to it to read.
“My name is Cassandra,” I tell him as he takes his seat, his deep-brown eyes meet mine. I don’t know why I told him my name, but I feel safe, if only for a second around him.
“Rest, Cassandra,” he says softly, his words having the reaction he wants as I drift off to sleep, his deep-green eyes haunting my dreams.
7
Cassandra
The sound of a pencil scraping across paper wakes me up from my dreams of the sea and brown eyes. I move slightly, feeling that I’m still in bed and still smelling the strong herbs. My arm burns a little now, and I place my hand on it. It feels warm, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing. I move so I’m lying on my side, and so I can see the room. It’s night now, and the room is lit by two candles in lanterns.
Chaz is leant over the desk, writing something quickly. I don’t have many options, but I’m not senseless enough to stay on a pirate ship with a load of pirates I don’t know. I would have more chance of living in the sea. If this pirate is being nice to me, there is every chance he wants me for some reason. I have no intention of sticking around to find out what that reason is when I feel better.
I slide off the bed slowly, my feet touching the cold, wooden floor, and it creaks. Chaz lifts his head and his eyes meet mine.
“There is a toilet over there,” he points to the door near his desk and turns back to his work. I smile internally as I spot the heavy-looking book next to my bed. I slide it into my hand and hide it behind my back as I walk over to him. I pause a little, feeling unsure about hurting him. It feels wrong. I force myself to remember all the stories about pirates that I’ve heard, the stories my father has told me, and I ignore how I feel.