Cassandra's Pirate (The Atlantis Series)

by Candace Smith

  Damien sighed, knowing it was far too late for that. Ashton had married long ago, and this frustrating game was merely between himself and Vincent LeSeure. Worse, he realized Vincent had accepted this from the beginning.

  Damien’s shoulders dropped and he stepped over debris while he walked below deck to his quarters. He was weary of these battles and tired of chasing an elusive obsession. Next time, he would not try to protect the schooner for capture. All guns would rip through the hull and sink the vessel and Vincent LeSeure beneath the sea. Perhaps, the decade-aged knot in his belly could finally loosen. In his quarters, Damien sipped his brandy in silence, making plans for a final battle.

  He sat back in his chair and sighed. First, he would have to bargain with the Makers for the repair of his ship. The mysterious wizards landed on Aquadea decades ago, and the price for their magic was high. Reflecting on the days before the ancients’ arrival, Damien remembered real grass and trees and the sound of laughter from Royal Ladies. It was all gone, and now the seas were rising. The King refused to acknowledge the destruction and offered the Makers whatever they wanted for the treasures they built for his kingdom.

  * * * * *

  The Makers were ancient wizards from Atlantis; two brothers and a close friend. They spent thousands of years traveling the corrupt system of slip-streams to outer worlds, wreaking havoc. They escaped Atlantis before its destruction after the Magistrates double-crossed them, complacent with the belief that others of their kind could not have survived their treachery.

  When a slip-stream delivered them to the world of Quiseeria, they made a disturbing discovery. Before Atlantis exploded, the people secreted their magic and shuttled a few Atlantians to an outer world planet, Earth, to leave seeds of a new generation.

  The strongest of the mystical line of the ancients were lured to the maze of broken slip-streams leading to different worlds. The streams were erratic, with no distinct map, appearing and disappearing with no pattern. A girl from Earth, Kera, was trapped in one such stream. She found the western world of Quiseeria and no way to return home.

  After avoiding the wizards’ attempts to destroy her in the maze of Quiseerian slip-streams, she tricked them into following her. Kera clutched the cursed scroll containing the wizards’ confession of their misdeeds, and with the gunslingers of Quiseeria taunting and distracting the ancients, she ran through the crystal nelam passage into the water. She tossed the document into the swift current before grabbing an opening leading to the last doorway back to Quiseeria.

  The furious ancients followed the confession to a closing side stream. The scroll remained just out of reach, bobbing on the current. The ancients gripped the closing entrance with their claws, deciding the best course was to stay in the main stream. Their hand scribed confession might wash up on an empty beach… or it might end up in the hands of the only enemy capable of destroying them. After eons of existence, they were not ready to abandon their games.

  The three ancient phantoms careened through the dark caverns, floating down the rushing stream with their long white robes soaked and clinging to their frail bodies. The current drew them faster, sucking the sorcerers down a side stream, and the old men braced for their entrance onto a new world to ravage its resources.

  Quiseeria had been all but a wasteland when they left. Now, a new planet would become their canvas. They would once more become the Makers, adored and revered by the people. And they would create.

  The sea rolled gently with barely a breeze to ruffle white caps across the surface. A single bubble rose, soon joined by several others. The waters boiled and rolled, beating furiously at the surface. Effervescent foam crested waves and separated the surf for a rising sandbar, creating a small island. It consisted of nothing but sands lifted from the ocean floor, and a haphazard grouping of rocks at one end. Within moments, there was the roar of rushing water that gushed from the rocks, spewing into the turquoise waters of the Aquadea Sea.

  So close to the edge, no ships sailed this part of the ocean. The trawlers, frigates, and pirate vessels remained close to Espedene and Rogamis. No one witnessed three ancient men, white apparitions perhaps as old as the planet itself, burst from the water cascading from the rocks and crawl onto the newly formed land.

  One sifted his fingers through the sparkling grains. He looked to the other two ancients, the brothers, and smiled. “Nelam. The entire base of this planet is nelam.” He was the manipulator. With shrewd words he convinced the brothers to follow his lead and share their power.

  Nelam. It almost made up for their uncomfortable panicked retreat through the slip-stream from Quiseeria. This planet was rich in the crystal and could support their need to create for centuries. The manipulator crushed a handful of granules forming a small bead of clear crystal. He tossed it into the sea. Fish swarmed and rose from the surf, melting together before crashing into the waves. A sea dragon formed. The ancients shivered with excitement, climbing onto their creation.

  The dragon swam towards Espedene, the largest island on Aquadea and home to the King. The ancients did not bother to turn and look back. They knew the sandbar had slipped beneath the waves, covering their escape. Far more interesting was the anticipation of the greeting from new Royals.

  They were always the same: greedy, insignificant mortals, willing to unknowingly compromise their planet for a few treasures. The Royals ignored how plants now withered and animals disappeared. The gradually rising seas as the nelam disappeared, went unnoticed. The Makers provided food, rare materials for the new palace, and fine sailing ships.

  To the Royals it was all about power; something the ancients understood well. For generations the Realm thrived with new treasures, as the planet wasted. With the rising Aquadean seas, small settlements and islands sank beneath the waters, with no interest or alarm from the Realm. The Royals paid homage to the Makers, denying them nothing in return for their wondrous creations.

  The Makers stood in their nelam chambers with insane happiness lighting their ancient eyes. The two brothers created for the King and his subjects, while the other worked on the androids. His land creations for Quiseeria, the stershions and whores, would not be practical on this world of ocean. The mermaids continued to intrigue him, and he slid another down a short slip-stream leading to a pool on the other side of the planet. When ten settled in the shallow pond, they would awaken and swim to Espedene.

  The Makers sucked the nelam from beneath the waves on the ocean floor surrounding Espedene and Rogamis, causing rising seas and leaving the islands wastelands. When the crystal was gone they would travel over the edge and begin creating on the other side. Their obsession with building made them forget about Kera, or the possibility of another Earthling carrying the ancestral genes being lured to Aquadea.

  Chapter III

  Caleb stood in the doorway, watching Cass through the distortion of foggy bubbles imbedded in the fiberglass shower door. Her slender tan body stretched while she lathered her dark hair. The ends whipped around her waist, touching the top of her bottom. Caleb rubbed his fingers together, remembering the sensation of the soft skin and how Cass squirmed when he touched her there.

  She cupped her full breasts, soaping them up before sensing him watching her. Her nipples tightened, and she turned to face him. “Hi, hon. I’ll be out in a minute.” Cass rinsed off and climbed out of the shower. Just before she turned the blow-dryer on, she heard Caleb pop the tab on a beer. Shit. She hoped she was not in for another marathon drinking jag before he climbed into bed.

  They moved in together the summer after high school and not much had changed since then. Caleb’s priorities still circled around his buddies, only they traded in baseball bats for cue sticks. He worked at the garage and would not take the evening classes at the technical school he needed for a raise.

  Cass was promoted to manager at the discount store and sold a few things on-line. At the ripe old age of twenty-two, she was trying to decide between continuing on with the store to district supervisor or
expanding her own business. She wished Caleb would look towards their future, whatever it might be. He was pressuring her for marriage and babies, because that was what his buddies were doing. Cass refused both until Caleb would get serious about work.

  She did not mind living from paycheck to paycheck; it just seemed like more of the paychecks were hers. Cass walked out to the living room where Caleb sat on the sofa watching television with the sound turned down. She stretched out and laid her head on his lap, letting her towel drop so that the edge barely covered her nipples. “You’re home late.” She brushed her fingers down his belly. It was a little fuller and softer than it had been when he played baseball.

  “So?”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything, Caleb. I figured you might be working late.” Cass hated when he got on the defensive.

  “No, I wasn’t fucking working late. You know George cut back my hours.”

  Cass studied his eyes a little closer, and she realized they were not exactly clear. She sat up. “Dammit, Caleb, you’ve been at the pool hall all night?”

  He shrugged. “George let me off at two. I lost track of time.”

  “You’re losing track of our money too. With your hours cut back, we’ll barely make the rent.” Cass saw his jaw tighten and she rose to straddle him, trying to lighten his mood. She traced her fingers down the tense muscles of his jawline. “If you get the transmission certification, George would give you a raise and he sure as hell would not be cutting your hours.”

  “I’m not going back to school, Cass. I already know how to fix that stuff.”

  “I know you do, but without the paper you aren’t getting paid for it.”

  “Shit, is that all you think about? Money, money, fucking money. We can’t get married because we don’t have a freaking future planned out until we’re seventy. No kids… un, un. Might not be able to put fucking toys under the tree.”

  “Caleb, stop. I’m sorry. I’m just not ready for that yet.” She was getting damn sick of waiting for him to grow up and get ready. She was also not into fighting. Cass leaned forward to kiss him, and he eyed her irritably and pulled away. “Come on, Caleb. I said I was sorry.” Cass reached around and rubbed her hand on his crotch. It surprised her that it took a bit of coaxing to get him hard. She stood and pulled him up, swinging down for the remote to click the television off.

  “We have to talk.” Caleb found himself pushed down onto the bed, while Cass worked his clothes off him.

  Cass so did not want to have the kids and marriage argument again. “Fuck now, talk later.” She dropped to her knees and pulled down his underpants.

  “Oh shit, Cass.” Caleb brushed his fingers through her hair.

  When she decided he was ready, Cass rose and let the towel drop to the floor, smiling at the desire in his eyes. Her eyes gazed into his as she lowered herself onto him. Caleb was not inventive, and he seemed happy to let her lead. This was another area she decided he needed work on. Just once, she would like to feel his lips on something other than her boobs or mouth.

  Fucking Caleb had become something like using a live doll for her release. His technique had barely changed from the fumbling attempts of his teenage years. Tight hands gripped her waist, forcing her up and down motion. Cass rubbed against his groin, remembering the few times she had moved his hands were she wanted them, only to have him move them back to hold onto her again. At last she felt him begin to pulse, and she was surprised at herself to realize she was pleased it was over.

  Cass dropped down beside him and they scooted over to the pillows. She kissed him and rolled over, and turned out the light. After a few minutes, his arms did not wrap around her. In the darkness, she heard him say, “Cass, we need to talk.”

  “Tomorrow, Caleb. I’m tired.”

  There was a stretch of silence. “I won’t be here tomorrow, Cass.”

  The tone of his voice did not make it sound like he was going on a road trip with his friends. “What do you mean, Caleb?”

  Oh shit. “Look, I don’t mean to hurt you, but…”

  Something inside her gut froze. “But what, Caleb?” He was silent again, and then it dawned on her. “Are you screwing someone else?” She heard him sigh, and tears filled her eyes. In the back of her mind she thought how stupid that was, because things had been falling apart for a while.

  “Darla Mason.” Might as well get it over with. “She’s pregnant, Cass.”

  Pregnant? Darla? Cass rose and grabbed her pillow. “I figured you might look further than your best friend’s little sister.”

  “Cass?”

  “Just get your shit out of here while I’m at work.” Cass stretched out on the couch and stared into the darkness. She did not cry, but she could not go to sleep either.

  At the end of the month, she held a garage sale and sold all the furniture and junk she and Caleb had collected. The girls at work threw her a going away party and gave her two hundred dollars to help her get settled. Cass loaded up her car and stopped by Darla’s on the way out of town.

  “You look good, Darla.”

  “God, Cass, I’m so sorry it worked out like this.”

  “Are you and Caleb happy?”

  “Yeah, we found out it’s a boy.”

  “That’s good, Darla. Caleb and I weren’t happy for a long time.” Cass smiled. “I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t pissed off. You know… the shot to my ego at being left for a younger woman, and all.”

  “Oh Cass, I felt so guilty.”

  “Not too guilty to make a Caleb junior.” Cass immediately regretted the sarcastic remark. “Look, I’m sorry. That was a cheap shot. Caleb and I were together for six years, counting high school. It wasn’t working any more, and I’m glad he’s going to get what he wants.” Cass held out an envelope. “This is half of what I got for the garage sale. I know Caleb won’t take it, but I want you to have it. It might help with the baby.”

  “Thanks, and I’m not too proud to take it. George has cut his hours back.”

  Oh Darla, you are in for a long haul. “Well, this should help then.” There was an awkward silence. “Look, I gotta’ get going. Say goodbye to Caleb for me.”

  “I will.” Darla held up the envelope. “And Cass, thanks.” Darla was getting ready to call her dad to borrow money for food when Cass pulled up.

  Cass sat behind the wheel and cranked the engine. It was the right thing to do, she told herself. Inside, she was screaming and cursing both of them as she left Henryville behind.

  She drove all night and made it to Meredith in the morning. After settling in a motel she slept a few hours. Cass spent the afternoon investigating the larger town and locating Larson Industries. She had an interview in the morning for a job in an entry level position in marketing.

  At sunset, she sat on a park bench overlooking the lake. A heavy burden lifted and Cass realized she felt free. She decided she was going to like building her new life here, away from the snickering whispers and questioning gossip of Henryville.

  “Stop.”

  Cass turned her head at the panicked demand. A woman pointed to a man dashing by Cass’s park bench. “He grabbed my purse.” The woman was walking quickly, but making no effort to kick off her heels and chase after him.

  Cass sprinted after the man, kicking in gear from years on the high school track team and her continued morning runs. He followed the footpath, and Cass cut across the park. She wound up in front of him and balled her fist. He never stopped running and raised his arm to bat her away when her long leg reached out and she kicked him in the groin.

  The man dropped like a sack of potatoes, and Cass grabbed the purse while he moaned and cupped his balls. “You move, and I’m pounding them up your ass.”

  The woman appeared, surprisingly winded from her walk. She glared down at the thief. “How dare you?” She looked Cass up and down and grabbed her purse. “Thank you.”

  Cass felt as though she had been scrutinized and filed away. “Check and make sure your wall
et is still in there. Sometimes they toss them out and go back for them later.” At least, Cass had seen it on a crime show before.

  “Everything’s here.” The woman called for the police, and then berated the thief. “Who do you think you are, picking on a defenseless woman?”

  The man was still rolling in agony. “Defenseless my ass, bitch.”

  After he was taken away, the woman held out her hand. “I’m Adelaide.”

  Cass noted the careful manicure and expensive ring and jewelry. “Cass. Does this sort of thing happen often?”

  “You aren’t from here?” Addie noted the t-shirt and faded jeans. The tennis shoes the woman wore looked like men’s and were beat up from use.