Spice Box: Sixteen Steamy Stories

by Raine Miller

“You’re an honorable man. Jezebel wouldn’t steal anyone. Now, I…I would chain her to the bar if she walked into a place I owned. But I have a reputation to uphold.” He filled the shot glass and downed it in one gulp.

  “She weren’t shanghaied. She had nowhere to stay. Sure, they’ll see her somewhere safe.” Sally smacked her husband’s arm. “I may ask the union to keep an eye out for her, and make sure if word comes of her needing a job, we get first chance at hiring her.”

  “No place to stay? She new?” He glanced around the bar. “What does this girl look like?” he asked almost absently, making conversation. A girl who mixed concoctions like that might be interesting to meet.

  “She weren’t a girl. A woman. Short, nicely rounded. Really short hair, sorta spiky…interesting face.” Sam polished up the bar, but the captain froze, his shot glass poised at his lips.

  “A mature woman?”

  “I’d call her that,” Sally replied. “I liked her hair. It would certainly be easy to tend to. Most practical. What do you think? Would this work on me?” She held out a large napkin. “I did this sketch from memory.”

  He carefully set the shot glass down, untouched, and took the napkin. He pretended to study the haircut as if sizing Sally up for one like it. But, he was staring at a drawing of the woman who’d been haunting his thoughts. She’d been here the night before, while he’d been wasting time on some sweet-faced whore.

  He set the napkin down as if it burned him. “You ought to do one of yourself with the hairstyle, Sally. I can’t see it from this.”

  “You’re right!” She grinned at him and set about badgering Sam for another of their precious linen napkins to draw on.

  Neither noticed him carefully fold the other drawing and tuck it into his coat. He left a few minutes later. He wondered where they had sailed to…and what it would take to find them.

  ***

  Emily woke up with her head pounding. “Fuck….”

  “Well, that is what it sounded like. Good dreams?” A familiar sounding voice interrupted her moaning. Perhaps from the night before? Some blonde beanpole with a totally inappropriate name.

  “What?” She raised her heavy head and eyed the top of a blonde head to her right. When she twisted, the hammock swayed, making her belly swirl unhappily. Tink sat on the floor, going through the contents of her pack. Yes, Tink, that was her name. “Hey! Oh, shit!” Emily put a hand over her mouth.

  “Yeah, don’t throw up on me. Behind you, on that stool, there’s a hangover remedy. Shut up and drink it. Trust me, it will help.”

  Slowly, Emily turned her head the other way to see the stool. And a mug of something still steaming sat upon it. Her hand trembled as she reached for the remedy. She knew from past experience that moving slowly was the best way to avoid nausea. She tried to sit up and floundered, but a steady hand from Tink gripped the netting of the hammock and held it still insuring the drink didn’t spill.

  She’d slept in a hammock?

  Inhaling gently, Emily closed her eyes. “It smells good.”

  “It is good, and it will do the trick. Mama Lu’s cures work. Drink it, Pawes.”

  Pawes? Oh, yeah. She’d given her bartender name. Tom used to call her Crewperson Pawes when they played at pirate, a reference to the ring of paw prints on her right bicep applied when she was eighteen, in memory of Magic, her dog. When she met Tom Pawes, it fit twice—seemed like fate.

  She never yet found a hangover cure worth much, but she’d try anything once. It was years since she’d drunk enough to earn one. Halfway through the remedy, she realized the headache was fading. When she drained the last drops, her stomach settled. She set the empty mug back down on the stool. “I’m impressed—and get out of my stuff.”

  “Trying to find some clue to where you live.” She held up a driver’s license. “Emily, or Pawes if you like, you’re a long way from home. You found a portal, didn’t you?”

  “A what?” Emily slowly maneuvered herself to one side of the hammock and sat up.

  Tink tossed the card back in the pack and handed the bag to Emily. “How else did you get to Tortuga?”

  “Tortuga? Listen, I went to the pirate festival yesterday. Today is…where am I?” Emily looked around the low-ceilinged room. “And why is this room moving?”

  “Well, because we’re at sea. I didn’t intend to steal you away. Once we were back on the ship last night, I had command—Jezz and Mick being busy in their cabin. She sure liked your rum sunsets. Put her in a real sweet mood. I spied Silvestri’s ship and knew the best course was to get out before Mick fucked up.”

  Emily stared at the woman who was still sitting cross-legged on the floor. Slender to the point of too thin and very tall, from what she recalled of the night before. With a talent for cursing. Why they called her Tink was beyond comprehension.

  Turning her head, Emily gazed at a small square of bright light. She slid off the hammock and slowly approached it. What it framed made her heart stutter. The sea, not the murky, deep blue of the Pacific, but the clear, turquoise blue of the Caribbean. She’d been there and recognized the hue. She reached out a hand, hoping to find a window or a screen, but instead she felt the spray of the sea on her fingertips.

  She fell back on her butt, accepting that she was on a ship. Moaning, she turned to Tink. “What the fuck! What sort of nasty trick is this? How the hell did you get me here? And why? I’m not worth that much!”

  “Yeah, but you make some mean drinks.” Tink uncoiled from the floor—no, the deck. She stooped to avoid the rafters at her head, gazing over at Emily. “Listen, you found a portal. I don’t know where or how…I’d guess at this festival you mentioned. Don’t get your panties in a knot about it. Portals are actually fairly common back in Tortuga. We’ll find it for you and get you back, if that is what you really want to do. Most people who find a portal arrive where they actually have reason to be.”

  “I have reason to be in San Francisco today!” Emily refused to believe what this strange woman said.

  “Well, instead you’re aboard the Cursed Quill, sailing the Caribbean, and it’s 1697. But be cool—it’s not like you think. Come, let me show you the head.”

  By the time her tour of the Cursed Quill was done, Emily was convinced she’d lost it. They possessed a shower and a modern kitchen, along with a clever flush toilet that Tink said composted. A good-looking sailor walked by her with an iPod strapped to his arm. Yet, there was no doubt they were in the Caribbean, and to all outward appearances, the ship was a period sloop.

  Tom also dreamed of sailing and spent long hours building models. She knew ships from years of his talking about them. No real pirate ship would have this many modern conveniences, unless it were one of those tourist excursion ships. That had to be it.

  But after crawling over the lower decks and finding no engine of any sort, she gave up. Either she was indeed insane, or a group of pirate enthusiasts took the game too far, and she was the captive of a group of completely mad re-enactors. She searched for hidden cameras. Was it a reality show? Shanghaied by Pirates?

  Three days later, Emily stopped looking for any other explanation. She dined with the women she’d met at the festival bar, meals she knew no period ship would serve. Mick tried to describe the situation to her and only confused her further.

  It was Captain Jezebel who finally explained it in a fashion she almost believed.

  “The best I can figure…Tortuga, this Tortuga, fell through a sort of time tunnel. It’s the center of this universe. And everything that is lost or thrown away finds its way here. Like the island of lost toys in the Christmas movie…?”

  Emily nodded. “Okay. People and iPods and refrigerators?”

  Jezebel shrugged. “Inventions that got lost or never happened. Hey, I’m not a scientist. I suffered misery in my own world, then fell here thirty years ago and made myself at home. Most of the crew can tell a similar story.”

  “Not me, I wasn’t…too miserable.” Emily sighed. “Hell.”
/>
  “Yeah, hell. Think about it. We’ll get you back to Tortuga, and you can look for the portal you fell through and decide to stay or go back. You want to stay? We’ll find work for you. We make out pretty good, raiding the occasional Spanish ship. The Spanish here carry a lot of booty and very few weapons. The French merchants beg to be robbed. I swear they line up for it—easy pickings.” Jezebel held out the bottle they’d been sharing. “Or stay on Tortuga and work as a bartender. You’re good at that. But there’s real benefit to being part of this crew, as you’ll find out.”

  The captain looked away, and Emily figured there were still secrets not being shared. Fine, she’d wait. Or not. When she got home, she’d have a wild story to tell, about the hallucination she suffered at the pirate festival.

  Her ass hurt and she shifted, looking for a more comfortable position before replying. “I still think I’m totally bonkers, but when I was younger, I read some fantasy where things like this happened. So, I’m going to wait and see. If I’m crazy, I’ll embrace it and enjoy the pleasant aspects.” She claimed the bottle and took a swig. “I’m sure I’ll meet the unpleasant, eventually.”

  Jezebel laughed and returned to the wheelhouse, leaving her to sit on the steps and watch the beautiful men as they hauled lines, tightened knots and polished bits of brass to a high shine.

  Tink sauntered over and sat next to her. “Still convinced you’re insane?”

  “Partly,” Emily replied.

  “Partly? You’re in good company!” Tink snickered. “We’re not going straight into Tortuga. Silvestri should be gone, but until we’re certain he’s out for the duration, we’ll be careful.”

  “This Captain Silvestri? Mick scowls and snarls when I ask….”

  “Mick ain’t reasonable about him. You see, Silvestri’s cursed, and it isn’t safe to fixate on him. Mick danced around that curse for nearly ten years, staying close enough to benefit from it. The curse finally turned on him and Mick got away with his life, but it were close. Mama Lu warned Jezzie that it’s still waiting to land on Mick, but he thinks differently. He wants the Immortal.”

  “Okay, what curse? And Immortal what?” Emily figured another pirate story wouldn’t be amiss. She didn’t believe much of what she heard, anyway. Especially the stories about Tortuga. The place must be huge to include everything the crew hinted at. A swamp? A forest full of wolves? A castle on a hill?

  “The Immortal is a ship. And years ago, it belonged to Mick’s father. He sailed off one day, and when the ship returned, Silvestri captained it. At first, Mick accepted that his father had returned to England, but then he changed his mind. He won’t say why. Now, the curse—Silvestri is cursed with good luck.”

  “Uh huh.” Emily turned to look at the quartermaster, Tink’s job on board the ship. It seemed to be something like a union leader, far as she could tell. “And how is good luck a curse?”

  “It’s a curse if it comes at the cost of every bit of good luck belonging to those around you. Think about it! He isn’t welcome to stay anywhere for long. Can’t get close to anyone. Mick managed by dancing close, then darting away—like some insane game of tag. Silvestri knew what Mick was doing and didn’t discourage it. Probably the closest thing the man knew to a friend in decades!” Tink polished her dagger, using a scrap of fabric looped around her belt.

  Emily considered the information. “He knows what his good luck costs others?”

  “Oh, he knows.” Tink admired the shine of the blade. “It’s not a bad curse, for a pirate, I mean. Most of our good luck comes at another’s bad. But his knows no boundaries—friend or foe pays. His crew seems to be immune, but they are a coldhearted bunch and not much company for the captain.”

  Her heart sank. “Oh, what a misery.”

  “He doesn’t look wretched, so don’t go feeling all sorry for him! The only one who seems close to him is Mama Lu. The curse is probably too frightened of her to attempt taking payment.”

  “Mama Lu is the potion woman? Why would a curse find her frightening?” Emily lifted the bottle at her side and took another swallow. She was drinking too much, but it numbed her confusion—and fear.

  “Oh, you’ll see when you meet her,” Tink said mysteriously, then shot to her feet, yelled something at one of the men in the sails and took off, climbing easily to the first cross brace.

  Emily envied Tink—her own knots weren’t tight enough to be trusted anywhere on the ship. Helping out by washing dishes each night was not a terribly glamorous way to spend the rest of her life—if she didn’t find a portal home.

  She pulled her leather pack close and peered into it. She kept checking her cell phone, some perverse part of her still thinking it might work. Rolling her eyes, she tossed the device back into the bag. Damn, the stickiness of sweat and salt spray coated her body, although she took a clean cloth and wiped herself down every day. They boasted a shower, but were stingy with it. She couldn’t blame them. The sponge bathing helped, but her scalp was driving her crazy. Janey, the bosun, promised her a showering slot if she signed on with them.

  Tink said she ought to rent time in the bathhouse back in Tortuga. “The cash Sam gave you for helping out at the bar is a fair cut. If you need to, you can get new clothes, a bath, and a few things to make your cabin more comfy. If you stay, of course.” The woman laughed at her.

  They all appeared to find hilarity in her reactions. But it wasn’t mean spirited. Emily supposed they’d heard attempts to rationalize what was going on many times, from others who fell into this freaking looking glass world…looking glass?

  She reached into her bag and withdrew the mirror. Examining it carefully, she wondered if it were somehow responsible for her being here. Not that she fit through this glass. It was too small, and she was too big, and there was no bottle to drink from. Yup, no drink this potion that she remembered.

  “Fuck, I’m going bonkers.” She pulled out her scarf and wrapped the mirror.

  “Hey, that’s a nice bit of swag.” Mick bent over to examine her find. “May I?”

  She handed it to him. “Got it at the fair I was visiting.”

  He held it up and stroked the tentacles that formed the handle while admiring himself in the glass. He turned it around. “I like this. Looks like him!”

  “Uh…like who?”

  “Well, the Kraken! The elder Kraken, of course. They only turn this fine white as they age. The youngsters are still green and a bit slimy….” His voice trailed off at her expression. He tilted his head at her. “Don’t believe me, do you?”

  “Okay, I figured it was a Kraken. I’ve heard of the Kraken…but to hear him…her…it referred to so causally is a bit startling.”

  Mick handed her mirror back, stepped to the railing and leaned on it, looking out at the water. “Well, you’re right. I’m not sure if the Kraken is a he. Since there are young, seems likely it’s a she.”

  “Maybe it’s a hermaphrodite.” Emily snickered at Mick’s startled expression. She noticed it was possible to tell who stepped through a portal and who was born here by how they reacted to certain words. “Or maybe the younger is a clone. Some technology to clone may have fallen here.” She chuckled when Mick tried to look like he understood her. She pushed to her feet. “Never mind, Mick, I’m being silly. You ever meet this Kraken? Is it fierce and hungry all the time, or is it a friendly beast?”

  “Depends on whether it had eaten recently. I met a youngster, after it consumed a full meal of sperm whale and it was kind enough to haul my cutter to a nearby island for me. The trick is never assume one way or the other. I was told if you do good to them, they’ll return the favor. That young one could have made me desert, but took me to safety instead, so perhaps that is true.” He eyed her speculatively and set a hand near hers on the rail. He wasn’t flirting, she knew that. He was a touchy-feely sort of man.

  “You would be welcome to stay.”

  “Yeah, I know. Everyone says so. I have to see if I can get back, Mick. I’m not done with my
life there.” She pulled her hand away, spun the wedding ring on her finger and his eyes darted to the movement. Emily stopped immediately. Mick was likeable and easy to talk to, but her past heartache wasn’t his business.

  He wisely said nothing. She moved up next to him at the rail to gaze out at the sea and thought about Krakens.

  CHAPTER 4

  Tink led her over the crest to look down on Tortuga. “Good, I don’t see the Immortal. I’ll send Chester down to let Jezzie know she can bring the ship in. It will take till the late afternoon for her to anchor. It’s a steep path to town, but at least it’s downhill. Let’s go.”

  Emily put a hand on her side, gasping for breath. She glared at the tall pirate.

  “A bath?” Tink spread her arms wide, posing like she was presenting the prize on Wheel of Fortune, and Emily nodded. She was weary, but the thought of a soak in a tub of hot water gave her energy.

  It took an hour to hike down to the city. And it was a city, no small village or settlement. Her eyes scanned where it wound around the steep hillsides, spreading in multiple directions away from the bay. Mist clung here and there, which confused her. Mist? In the tropics? But she didn’t nag Tink about it. For all she knew, the haze was perfectly normal. And if it wasn’t the case for her reality, was it natural for this reality?

  Her head hurt.

  But the bath made the walk worthwhile. Tink left her at the bathhouse, saying she’d be back in an hour or two and not to wander far if she finished early. Emily sank into the suds and swore she’d never get out. Every ache from the last few days faded away. She washed her hair three times, scrubbed her feet till they tingled, and lounged until the water grew cold.

  Finally, she crawled out of the tub, not terribly eager to change back into her filthy clothes. One of the women noticed her reluctance and offered a skirt for a price. Emily took it, packing the filthy pair of breeches into a ball and using a sash to tie the ball to her belt.

  “You have a shirt, maybe?”

  “Sorry, luvy. But you can get one down the street. The Silk Emporium is bound to have something you’ll like.”