The Kraken's Mirror

by Maureen O. Betita

  She nodded and Mick let her go. She turned away from him, gazed out across the pond, and slowly let the heat work its way into her bones.

  Silvestri used her? Or had this woman who cursed him used her? Mick was supposed to be here, but not her. Because of the bitch in question? She lowered her head and thought. Her heart ached, too confused to make sense of it. Mick said to wait. Fine, she could do that.

  It wasn’t long before she heard Mick leave the hot pool. He spoke to someone while she rubbed at her feet, her face, and finally her circulation returned to normal. They were surrounded by ice. How in the hell did a hot spring exist here? Her shoulders sagged. Mad, this was too insane to understand.

  “Pawes, your clothing is here.”

  She turned reluctantly toward his voice to see that a woman stood next to him, a pile of fur items in her arms.

  “I can’t wear fur,” she objected.

  “Why not?” He gestured to her. “Don’t be stupid. You have to wear something other than the rags you wore.” He lifted up her shirt, nearly transparent in the bright white light of the ice world. “You’ll freeze again.”

  “Fuck.” She slowly climbed up the rocky steps, trying to keep some modesty, an arm across her breast, a hand to her pubes. She gave up after a moment, too hard to walk and be concerned about nudity. “Where do I dry?”

  Mick, already dressed, gestured toward several hissing vents. “Hot air.” He bent toward one and went to work on his long hair. She could see the sense of it. Wet hair here would be dangerous. She gingerly stepped to the vent across from him and quickly did what she could to wipe any remaining water from her body, let the air do the rest. The woman with the fur stood, waiting.

  Emily bent over to work on her hair and the woman moved in, set a fur piece around one of her legs and wrapped it securely. After the initial shock of the intrusion, Emily accepted her assistance. The fur felt nice…and her legs were feeling the cold. Once both legs were covered, a sleeveless piece that worked like a Diana Furstenberg dress came next. It fell well past her thighs. Her arms were taken care of, lastly her feet with the fur traveling all the way up to her calves. She supposed to guarantee no ice reached her feet. It was warm, and that was all she presently cared about.

  Mick snickered.

  “What?” Emily glared at him.

  “You look like a shapeless bear.”

  “Yeah, well, I bet I’m warmer than you are.”

  “That may be true, but my coat works well enough.” He slid a hand into his pocket. A look of confusion crossed his face, but passed after a moment. Emily waited for him to share. Her helper finished and disappeared while Emily was looking for her shoes.

  “Mick, where are my sandals?”

  “Fell to pieces, Pawes. You were overdue a new pair of shoes.”

  “Oh, damn.” She looked up when Mick held out his hand. “What now?”

  He dropped the Kraken pendant in her hand. “Put it on. I think it’s going to help us.”

  She gazed at the carved necklace a moment, nodded and slid it over her head. He reached over and tucked it underneath the fur.

  “Now, follow my lead. Dangerous ground, capice?” He raised his eyebrows at her and wouldn’t release her gaze until she nodded.

  “Now, our guide is up at the top of the stairs. Be polite.” He gestured at her to lead.

  She paused. “Why are you trusting him? I thought you hated him?”

  “Something he said made sense, luv. Suddenly a great many things make sense. Explanations will wait. Oh, eat little from her table.”

  With a sigh, she climbed the steps, tired, but at least she was warm.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Silvestri walked away from the steam pools with a weight of worry settling on his shoulders. She’d done it—she’d brought Emily here. At least Mick knew where he was, what Glacious was. Hours of talking over bottles of rum educated him enough to take care. Emily didn’t know. He needed to trust that Mick would tell her enough to keep her satisfied. And careful.

  By the time the two joined the dinner table, the cold was growing inside him. It usually did when she prepared to pull the pain of the year before from him. He shuddered, trying not to anticipate that terrible glory. It never failed to heat him up to a near fever. An unholy sort of welcome that melted the ice away.

  He almost loved her when she did it. And hated her moments later. For now, she toyed with him, pretending a simple sort of delight at the company. She’d known they were coming, but she didn’t know what he planned. He hoped.

  When the door at the end of the great hall opened, he fought not to turn. He wanted to know she was walking, that her hand was bound, that she was warm and comfortable. If he betrayed any of that concern, Glacious would use it against him. Against Emily. But would Emily understand?

  It didn’t matter; she must be kept safe. Hopefully, he could explain later. The words of Mama Lu played through his mind. You’ll know the right moment, the right thing ta do. Ya pay attention and accept opportunities. Follow instincts. The Old Monster gave you a vision. Follow it!

  The dreams came two days after the Kraken’s touch. Visions of the palace crumbling, of bloody hands united and a great roar. He didn’t understand any of it, but he watched and waited.

  “Dear Captain March! I see our fragile sailor has regained herself. What do I call you, dear?” Glacious played at being gracious.

  Mick answered, interrupting Alan’s attempt to downplay Emily’s position. Alan said she worked the sails on the ship Mick sailed. But Mick overrode him. “This is Mrs. Pawes. The talented bartender of my lady’s ship, the Cursed Quill. She also crafts books of unique workmanship.”

  “A bartender on a ship? I thought you sailors drank rum and only rum.” She laughed, and Alan again held back a grimace.

  Emily spoke up, “Generally, that is what they drink, Ma’am. On board. But when they go ashore for relaxation, I mix what I can from the local brews.” She did play the awkward sailor well, keeping her eyes downcast. A glance darted his way hidden under the unruly mop of her hair.

  “Ma’am? I am the Lady Glacious, my dear.”

  “Pardon me, Ma’am. I didn’t mean to offend. Uh, Lady Ma’am. Lady…I, uh, don’t often spend time with quality, Ma’am.” She shook her head. “Lady…Ma’am.”

  Alan almost laughed when Glacious reacted with shock to Emily’s play at titles. He shot a glance at Mick, lips twitching also. A warmth grew in his heart. The possibility of having Mick as a friend again, and as a brother, gave him hope.

  “You must pardon her, Lady Glacious. She is nothing but a simple woman, come to our ship with no home left to her. Captain Jezebel took her on and has made a sort of pet of her.” Mick set his arm around Emily’s shoulders and led her to a chair. “Sit and be quiet, all right, dear?”

  “Okay, Captain March. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend. I mean….” Emily wrapped her arms around her chest and rocked slightly.

  Excellent portrayal of a simple-minded woman. Alan relaxed slightly.

  Glacious turned to him. “How do you know this stupid sailor?” The look on her face spoke volumes. She knew how well he knew Emily.

  His belly twisted, heat growing above his groin.

  “Oh, Captain Silvestri often enjoys the company of sailors from the Quill. I think it’s his way of poking at Jezebel, who chose me over him some years ago,” Mick commented, taking a seat next to Emily.

  Glacious tilted her head. “Truly? I didn’t know you pined for the captain of the Quill.”

  “It was a long time ago,” he lied straight faced, and the burning eased.

  She took a seat and he followed, relieved. Until he glanced across the table to see a tear trail down Emily’s face.

  Mick took up the conversation, obviously attempting to keep Glacious’ attention away from Emily.

  It worked for a short while.

  ***

  She wouldn’t react. She couldn’t react, couldn’t let this monstrous woman know w
hat she was feeling. Was any of that true? Alan wanted Jezebel? Well, it made sense. Jezebel was a younger, nubile woman. Her bright red hair, her figure…of course, they fought over Jezebel.

  No one ever did battle over Emily Pawes. She blinked back tears, suddenly convinced none of his passion was real. No, it was all about striking back at Mick and Jezzie. She’d been used. He fucked her and won her to get to Mick. He knew Mick would react to one of Jezebel’s crew taking up with the enemy. Mick would be bound to take action, and she’d been the new one. The one susceptible to his charm. He’d been so cool about Mick. Now it made sense. Mick won Jezebel. Silvestri wanted vengeance! And now Mick was falling for the monster’s charm. Her heart pounded erratically. Too much to figure out.

  Emily fought exhaustion until a sort of lassitude blossomed in her. She welcomed it; it was easier to bear than the hurt. Must be from being possessed. She snorted softly. The food before her was colorless, tasteless, and quite easy to pass on, despite the hollowness of her belly. Her hand ached, and after managing to take a bite or two of something crunchy, she set her hands in her lap. Her head hurt, but what was the sickness at her heart? It couldn’t be hurt. No, she’d be angry—he’d used her. Glacious wanted to use her, too, just to egg the men on. Then she’d be tossed aside. Bait no longer needed. Mick was dismissing her. Anger would be better; it would keep her from breaking to pieces in front of all of them. Three schemers, they deserved each other!

  She would avoid falling prey to any softer emotions or other explanation for her presence. Maybe she was having a heart attack. Maybe her mental breakdown was evolving into a real medical crisis, and soon she’d wake up long enough to see the doctors laboring over her. Such a tragedy.

  A fragment of the talk around drew her head up. Brother? They were brothers? She focused on what Glacious was saying. She was an incredible-looking woman. Emily kept trying to decide if the hair was glacier blue or arctic blue.

  Distraction. Yes, she needed other distractions to focus on. Not her heart. She could feel its steady beat where the fur was snug at her neck. She was okay. She knew the score. Fuck it. What did Glacious just say?

  “I understand your claiming his portion of my gift, dear Captain Silvestri. He is your brother. And he marked you.” She reached out to touch the curved scar at Alan’s cheek.

  Emily shuddered, the bitch considered the damage done by the curse to be a gift? Sick!

  Ah, she’d wondered where that came from. It must be when Mick attacked him.

  “But he should carry a reminder also.” Her black eyes danced to Mick.

  “Ah, dear lady, I do. Nothing romantic like Alan’s. Only modesty keeps me from showing it to you.” Mick grinned, and winked at Alan.

  Too many jokes. Why was she here? Emily picked at the bandage on her left hand. It unwound and she let it. The cold air felt good on the raw tissues. She could feel the Kraken’s pendant at her chest, heavy and cold. Why was it cold? Even against her chest and buried in furs, it radiated chill. The rest of her was warm, almost too warm.

  “Now, what did you bring me this year?” Glacious left her seat and walked to where Alan sat. Standing behind him, she set her hands at his shoulders, and bent over, the swell of her white breasts on display for Mick. “You’re always careful, but I know my gift struck true. I felt it.”

  Emily watched her hands grip Alan’s shoulders, and he groaned, while sweat beaded his face. He appeared to be in pain. A pain Glacious absorbed so that it shone forth from her. It was obscene, intimate, and impossible to look away from. Emily shuddered.

  She’s a vampire! An actual emotional vampire!

  Glacious crooned, “An entire galleon, Alan. What a wonderful thing to bring me!” The icy blue woman flushed, head bowed.

  Alan tried to jerk away from her grip on his shoulders and partial succeeded.

  One hand still touching him, Glacious looked up straight into Emily’s eyes. “And why did this one escape my gift? A sister? No, you’re not that twisted. You know that isn’t allowed.”

  She dropped Alan. He hauled himself erect, though the effort obviously cost him. The lines on his face truly betrayed his age. The vitality faded. He gasped, “No! I will pay for that! She didn’t mean to fire that pistol! It was an accident, and she is an innocent!”

  “You are gallant, dear Alan. Very well, this last time.” Glacious gestured at him and he jerked violently and fell from the seat. Emily stood up and hurried to the head of the table to help him. Why she cared enough to go to him was beyond her. Instinct, probably. She paused as he climbed back to his seat before she got there. He held his right hand close, blood dripping from it.

  His knuckles were pitted with bits of metal and black with powder burns. Her pistol that exploded? His palm was gouged and bloody with mangled flesh. He met her eyes and hissed, “Get away!”

  Emily stopped dead in her tracks.

  Glacious ignored the drama, gliding to the other side of the table to confront Mick, also on his feet. “You seem a most practical and pragmatic man, Captain March. I am done with Alan—his luck has run out. Would you care to strike a bargain with me? Bear the gift of good luck while you sail the seven seas of the world?”

  “Bad idea, Mick,” Alan muttered. “I should know.”

  Emily turned her attention to Mick and watched in disbelief as Jezebel’s man bowed to Glacious. Emily grimaced, appalled at the idea.

  “Dear Lady, what a gracious offer. And terribly tempting….”

  Emily couldn’t stand it. Her loyalty toward Captain Jezebel reared up, overcoming her confusion regarding Alan. She reached out with her right hand, grabbed a handful of blue hair, and yanked, jerking Glacious away from Mick. The hair broke off in her hands. “Leave him be, you bitch! He is spoken for. He’s Jezebel’s.” Shock traveled through her system. The strands she held sliced into her hand, wires of frozen ice. Screaming she backed into Alan, who kept her from falling.

  Glacious turned to her. “Not so stupid are you! Simply ill-advised. No woman’s claim supersedes mine.”

  Mick opened his mouth to reply when a shock traveled through the palace. A muffled cascade of booms could be heard.

  Glacious swiftly turned her head toward the other end of her hall and threw up a hand. The wall of ice instantly grew transparent and showed a ship, firing at the glacier.

  Mick grinned. “Jezebel! My dear captain!” He sounded both relieved and proud.

  “The Quill?” Emily wept at the pain in her hands. The left palm now dripped blood from where she’d hit it on the side of the table trying to get away from Glacious. Both hands ached and bled red to stain the pure white world.

  “Oh, too many stupid women today!” Glacious leaped to the tabletop and strode toward the transparent wall. It fell with a gesture when she walked to it, melting to a sudden rain of water. The chill outside rushed in. Emily cried out when the ice queen shouted out to the giants, “See that ship sunk!”

  ***

  Alan shivered as the icy wind dried the sweat of Glacious’ earlier attention. He clung to Emily, trying to help her with the newly wounded hand. Mick hurried to them. “Now what? She’s going to sink the Quill!”

  Alan’s vision blurred as he held Emily’s hand, trying to fashion a bandage from a scarf. The fever from having his victim’s pain pulled from his soul made it difficult to remember where he was and why. But a vision rose in his memory from his dream of the Kraken taking down Glacious. He kissed Emily’s forehead. “Where is the pendant?”

  “My neck.” Emily tried to get to it, but only smeared blood on the white fur at her throat. “It’s cold!”

  Mick gently pushed her hands away and slipped the chain out, leaving the pendant at her chest where it pulsed and glowed.

  “Mick, bloody your left hand and take her right. Emily? Hold on to us. We’ll see you safe!” Alan took her left in his right, mingling blood.

  Mick slid his left palm across the sharp edge of the table, hissing as he did. With blood flowing, he took up Emily’
s right hand. Alan turned, and they gazed across the open water to the transparent ice wall where the Quill fired her guns, dodging chunks of ice falling around them. The ship couldn’t last long! The ice would eventually strike it and take them all down.

  ***

  The cold that traveled through Emily froze her solid, but this wasn’t the cold of the glacier. This was the deep cold of the ocean, mixed with the warmer water of more temperate climes. Every ocean in the world pulsed through her. She suddenly stood up straight, hands locked to the men, power flowing through her. Alan felt it, and he was certain Mick also felt it.

  Alan spoke first. “Come on, Old Monster! We cleared the way! Follow your agents!”

  Mick chuckled. “Old Monster, reclaim what is yours.”

  Emily felt the force rising from the sea floor. The entire ice structure shuddered from a massive collision. The three of them staggered.

  Glacious spun, glared at them. “No!”

  “Yes!” Emily shouted, hearing the words deep inside her head. A voice with a slight accent, like that of the old woman in Tortuga, whispered at her what to do, what to say. “Though the portal, straight to this frozen heart! Come, Old Monster! Old Monster, come!” The pendant at her chest exploded with impossible tentacles, sweeping out at Glacious. The queen of the ice palace screamed and ran, a Kraken slithering after her. Emily glanced down at the pendant. “Wow.” It was just a pendant now. Her clear head fought with the physics of what just happened. Why didn’t she fall back?

  Then the water of the bay exploded with great tentacles of every color and size. Massive white suckers, the size of elephants, rose around the dining hall, enlarging cracks as they pushed through. They crashed through the ice and everything solid fractured. The physics of gravity became paramount.

  The ice wall between the Quill and the enclosed bay disappeared, falling to pieces in the water. Emily roared with energy, no longer cold, tired, or confused. She was jubilant! Alan pulled the three of them out of the crumbling hall. They stumbled to the top of the long stairs. Ice melted everywhere, making the way treacherous.