by C. Vandyke
“Miss Kate?” She turned and saw one of the pirates cautiously approaching. “Miss, we don’t want any trouble, we’ll not seek revenge, you’re free to go . . .”
She took a step towards him and noted with satisfaction how he and the others moved involuntarily backwards.
Marie called over, “Kate, we must leave soon if we are to get back in time.”
Katharine’s mother’s words came back to her then. “If you want to get married.”
Free to go?
Yes, she was, wasn’t she? Dizzying elation washed over her as she contemplated the Black Raven, the ship that had belonged to Ivarr Bloodyhand. Katharine smiled, feeling absurdly energized. She ran the distance to the nearest rowboat on the beach and put one foot up on its wooden frame. The men kept a careful distance, eyeing the rapier still in her hand.
“No more of this ‘Miss Kate’ nonsense! Call me Captain!” she called out with a feral grin. “Are you with me?”
There was a pause as the crew considered their options; considered twice as hard the body of Ivarr Bloodyhand. Then there was a resounding chorus of “Aye, Cap’n!” and the men swarmed to Kate, knowing that their futures depended on a good relationship with her.
Amongst them were Dil and Crafty Rod, but Marie hung back.
“I must go tell your mother,” she said apologetically upon seeing Kate’s hurt expression.
Things suddenly fell into place. “It was you? She’s always known?”
Marie shrugged. “Your mother hired me to be your friend as much as your maid. But she did hire me, and I kept her informed on your activities, yes. But she doesn’t disapprove. She wanted revenge for Isabel, too. And she’s more like you than you know. She just was born at the wrong time. But she’ll want us to keep in touch with her, so she can hear of your adventures.”
“Us? You will join us then? But how will you find us once we’re at sea?”
“Drea,” said Marie simply.
Of course. “Very clever.” Kate was confounded. She’d never suspected such connivance. Not once.
The enormity of what she was about to do both excited and terrified her. But knowing her mother was on her side gave her strength. She clasped Marie’s hand.
“Then tell mamá I will . . . miss her, and will see her when I can.”
Marie waved farewell, and then she was gone. Kate turned back to her new crew and called for quiet.
“Let’s get going—I need to learn about my ship!”
Creators of the Sea
Illustrated by Katherine Ellis
BOOK 2: PIRATES OF THE FANTASTIC
Map of the Archipelago
Illustrated by Michael D. Nadeau
The Elysium Proposal
A.E. Bross
Why tonight, of all nights?
The pounding on the door came again, more insistent. Kyle snatched her trousers up, cursing the five-button fastening. Who puts five buttons on trousers? Her fingers fumbled to secure them as she scrambled to find the rest of her clothing.
Teague was in a similar state of rush beside her, though with far more grace, sliding effortlessly into a pair of trousers that might as well have been painted onto their shapely legs. “What trouble did you bring to my door, Ky? Can we not have one normal evening to ourselves?”
Kyle flinched. She could hear the frustration in her lover’s voice. They weren’t wrong. Kyle, much like her father, seemed to have trouble irrevocably lodged in her shadow. It followed her everywhere.
“I thought you found it endearing,” Kyle quipped, finally obtaining victory over her trousers and spotting her undershirt and blouse.
They shot her a cutting look, and Kyle was feeling less and less like she had ever been endearing to them. Then the glare faded into a grudging smile. Teague could never stay mad at Kyle, and Kyle knew it. Teague’s softening expression vanished the moment the knocking came again, hard enough to shake the door at the hinges.
“Who the hell is looking for you?” they asked, dark eyes widening, real worry seeping into them.
Kyle shrugged as she pulled on her shirts, jamming the loose fabric into her waistband. “Damned if I know, but I don’t mean to stay and find out.”
“Ah, yes, leave me to clean up the mess,” Teague said, though their voice was only half-sarcasm. The other half, the half that made Kyle’s heart beat just that little bit faster, was sadness.
Kyle hopped, using both hands to hastily pull on one boot, then the other. The banging came again: more insistent and accompanied by raised voices, shouting to be allowed entrance. Kyle continued to ignore them as she bundled her belt and coat together in her arms. She moved to the window, which meant standing on the bed, and threw it open. She grinned at the blast of salty air and fog that rushed in.
This was it. This was the moment. Not how she’d imagined it would go, but she could feel it. She turned back to smile at Teague, who had dressed and was preparing to deal with whoever was on the other side of the door. “Come with me.”
Teague froze, dark eyes wide. “What?”
“Come with me, vanimelda,” she repeated, the elvish term of endearment rolling off her tongue as she stretched a hand out.
Teague looked at Kyle, then back around the small room, taking it all in with their surprised gaze. The door once again shook on its hinges, and the knocking was now continuous. Then the sound of splintering wood sliced across the quarters and decided it for them. “Gods damn it,” Teague breathed, reaching out and taking Kyle’s hand. “You’d better protect me.”
It was easy to slide out of the window and onto the roof of the inn, and Kyle hauled Teague up, closing the window behind them. “Don’t worry,” Kyle whispered, stealing a quick kiss, “I’ll be your big, strong pirate.”
The sound of the door finally giving way and the men crashing into the room that they had just escaped pushed Kyle forward. As swiftly as she dared, Kyle guided her companion across the roof, avoiding the other dormers on the cramped building. The slate tiles were slick with the damp night air, but the escaping couple managed not to slip before making it to the far end and the short drop to the connecting roof of the one-story tavern attached to the inn.
Kyle lowered Teague down, then followed, stumbling but landing safely. The two of them hastened to the edge of that building with all the stealth they could manage and repeated the process, finding themselves back on terra firma, or close to it, in the alleyway. Lucky for the two escapees, it was a raucous night in the tavern and no one had heard their escape.
The air outside smelled of grilled meat, seaweed, and stale spirits. All the things Kyle would expect from one of Saltskiff Bazaar’s less reputable areas. Still, they couldn’t linger long. Slipping towards the front of the alley, Kyle peeked out. It was late. The dock was sparsely populated. Not a good thing. If there had been more of a crowd, they could have slipped away far more easily.
As if cued by her thoughts, she heard the pounding of feet from inside the tavern. Shouts and disgruntled bellows accompanied by the hard clatter of boots on rickety wood. Whoever had broken into the room had obviously found it abandoned. Kyle shrank back into the shadows of the alley, her hand moving to find Teague’s. When she did, she tugged gently and nodded in the direction that sank deeper into the alley. “This way.”
“Kyle Talos, if you get me killed…”
Kyle winced. It wasn’t her full name, no, but it was what Teague knew, and had the sting of being called by an angry parent. Kyle knew she was in for trouble, and it had nothing to do with the people who were chasing the pair. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”
The western docks of the Bazaar were quiet. Kyle made it a point to pay both her crew and the dockhands a little extra, and for that, she was rewarded with good behavior. Add to that a lack of taverns so close to the docks, and there was a certain peace that nowhere else in the bazaar could boast of.
Feeling confident they had slipped away from the pursuers, Kyle led Teague towards her ship, The Stargazer, anchored on the far docks. Once t
hey were beside the ship, she issued a shrill whistle. “Ahoy, night watch, the gangway.” She couldn’t remember who had been assigned for the on-deck night, but they wouldn’t hold it against her.
The gangplank lowered, and Kyle turned to Teague, grinning from ear to ear. “Your chariot, my liege.”
“You are ridiculous, you know that?” they replied, but they were smiling. Relief and exhaustion showed on their face before they hurried delicately up the gangplank. Kyle breathed a small sigh. She not only orchestrated an expert escape from unknown pursuers, but managed to bring Teague and coax them into a smiling mood. Kyle had a question for them that she felt hinged on Teague being in a good mood.
After all, very few people agreed to marriage when they were upset.
Hopping off of the gangplank and onto the sturdy decking of The Stargazer, Kyle landed just behind Teague. She was about to speak when she noticed her partner’s posture: ramrod straight, frozen in place.
Behind Kyle, the gangplank vanished, pushed away and clattering against the dock below before it plunged into dark waters.
Not good.
Kyle pulled Teague behind her to shield them and drew her weapons. Four guards, weapons drawn, had them pinned against the rail. Elven guards, wearing the colors of the Sixth Court of Elders. Kyle felt her heart sink. They were surrounded. Despite the odds, she had her xiphe and parrying dagger at the ready. Perhaps she could buy enough time for Teague to get—
“Enough,” came a loud, quick, and authoritative voice, interrupting her thought.
The guards lowered their weapons and stood at attention as footsteps sounded behind them. They moved aside to reveal a regal Elven woman with sharp, severe features. Her silver gaze found Kyle in an instant, and she sneered. “Peredhel,” she said, her head canted to the side.
Kyle had to keep from rolling her eyes. If she had a gold piece for every time she had to deal with uptight elves calling her ‘half-elf’ as an insult, she would be a truly wealthy woman. She straightened, sheathing her weapons to return the greeting with an exaggerated bow of her own. “Auvanëa,” she said, unable to stop the childish insult to the woman’s looks from sliding off of her lips.
The other woman’s countenance lost its smug amusement to a flicker of anger. When she spoke again, she no longer used Elvish. “I shouldn’t have to deal with such filth.”
Kyle shrugged. “Neither should I.”
From behind her, Teague whispered, “What in the seven hells is going on here?”
Kyle didn’t know the what, but she certainly knew the who. “Teague, this is Vána Raudnost of the Sixth Court of Elders.” She tried to keep her tone light. She didn’t want to worry them. “My mother’s mother.” Turning to Teague, she smiled. “Vána, this is my partner, Teague Dailann.”
“Pleasure,” murmured Teague, their voice expressing precisely no pleasure.
“Silence,” Vána all but spat, stepping up behind her guards and gesturing for them to give her a wider berth. “I’m glad I found you before others did. I thought for sure the men your father sent would have gotten to you and made our meeting impossible.”
Kyle cursed herself. The men at the inn had been there to help her? Of course. How was she supposed to know they weren’t someone she owed money to?
“It’s fortunate because you and I, Kalina, are going to do something that others have only dreamed of. We are going to pierce the eternal storms of the Elysium—”
“Kyle.”
Vána started at the interruption. “Excuse me?”
“My name. It’s Kyle.”
The rage that flitted across Vána’s face was near terrifying. “Whatever you call yourself means little to me. Your Elven name is Kalina, and that is what I shall use.” Gone was any grandeur to her words. She was all business now, steely eyes flashing. “You are going to take me and mine to the Elysium Cove.”
Kyle scoffed, stopping just short of outright laughing at the woman. "Me? What would you want with a small time, half-elf embarrassment's ship, when a word from the great Vána can command Elven fleets?" she asked. Teague clenched at the fabric of her jacket, twisting it as if warning Kyle not to push her luck. Kyle had to remember that she wasn't alone, so perhaps riling a member of the upper echelons of Elven society wasn't the wisest choice.
"My reasons are mine—"
"Not when you're trying to forcibly commandeer my ship and my crew," Kyle spat, cutting off the words. "Where’s my crew?"
Vána waved a hand dismissively. "Below decks, being kept under watch.”
“They had better be safe.” The ‘or else’ was implied.
“How dare you speak to me like this.” Vána’s face flushed, and anger sparked in her eyes. “You have no right, you absolute worm. No one does. I am Vána Raudnost of the Sixth Court of Elders, and I will be treated with the respect I deserve.”
“She came to the bazaar for respect?” Teague breathed the question, their breath warm against Kyle’s ear.
Jesting aside, Kyle had to admit that it was odd for Vána to be here, attempting to commandeer her ship. Why wouldn’t she simply request and be granted a fleet of ships from the Court? Then it struck Kyle, and she had to keep from outwardly smiling. She knew, or at least thought she knew, why the elder elf had come. "You were refused what you needed for a venture to the Elysium Cove, weren’t you?" Kyle was stunned. “You’re going after the Well of Eternal Life without the blessing of the Elven Courts? Hell, against their wishes?”
Vána's eyes flashed, and Kyle could see the muscles in her jaw twitch. There it was. The truth laid out for all to see.
Attempting to breach the storms of the Elysium Cove was suicide, regardless of how much one might want the Well of Eternal Life. What good was it if one died in the tempests surrounding the island? Kyle would not risk everything for it. "If the Court refused you, what made you think I would agree?" she asked, trying to sound more confident than she felt as she scrambled to put together an escape plan.
It had been the wrong question. Kyle knew that the minute Vána's face settled into a calm, almost serene expression. She gestured to one of her guards. The soldier nodded and moved, vanishing below deck. There were a few moments of awkward, tense silence between them all, but it was soon filled with the sound of the soldier's return. It also sounded as if they were with someone else, though the second set of foot falls were much less sure, and more than once there was a clattering as if someone fell but was forced back to their feet.
Someone emerged from the steps down into the ship, except it wasn't the soldier. The man—tied at the wrists and covered in cuts, scrapes, bruises, and blood—was pushed so forcibly that he tripped on the top step and fell to the deck, landing hard on elbows and forearms. Kyle recognized him immediately, though she could only catch a quick flash of his face as he fell. "Dad!" she said, starting forward.
“Kyle, no,” he groaned as he tried to right himself. The guard put a foot to his back, forcing him down.
One of the other guards shot a hand out to stop Kyle, but she took it and twisted hard, bringing it up around his back and shoving upwards without mercy. She heard the shoulder pop out of place just before the guard screamed his pain. She put a foot in front of his and shoved forward, eliciting another pained yell as he fell to the deck. Before she could draw her sword and dagger, though, a blade was leveled at her throat.
Vána's icy gaze met Kyle’s over the shining metal of the thin sword. "Now, you will take me and my men to the Elysium Cove. We will break through the storm, and I will get everything I have coming to me. The alternative is that I kill your partner, your father, your crew, and you, then take your ship and leave your bodies to rot with the rest of the refuse in this disgusting place."
Kyle glared at the woman, but knew she had no choice but to acquiesce. Angrily, she nodded, moving her hands away from her weapons.
"Good," Vána said, sheathing her own blade. "We sail for the Elysium Cove. Now."
The Stargazer was not an overly large ves
sel. A brigantine ship, it was sleek and trim, made to carry an eighty-ton burden. Counting Kyle, The Stargazer’s crew numbered twenty-four. The ship was fast and lighter than most. That’s what Kyle had fallen in love with when she first set foot aboard, at the age of four. Kyle’s father, Phaidan Talos, had commissioned the ship with the inheritance that had been gifted to him by his parents. They were alive and well, they just saw no reason for Phaidan to wait until they sailed on past the end of the world.
Now Kyle wondered if she would ever see her paternal grandparents again.
She could do with seeing much less of her maternal grandmother.
For the most part, Vána and her guards left the crew to its work, which was a small relief. She had, of course, claimed the captain’s quarters as her own. Kyle and Teague were relegated to the crew quarters, and Phaidan had been taken to the hold. Kyle tried not to worry for her father. He had been on many an adventure on his own, and he could hold on until Kyle figured out some way out of this one.
The crew quarters were dark; one lantern, turned low, hung at the far end. Even in the low light, Kyle could see the guards standing erect, eyes forward. Their presence grated on her as she lay, watching them from her hammock. Prisoner on her own ship. Her father a hostage. It was hard to imagine Phaidan Talos as being anything but the victor in any struggle. The man was a hero. He had made enemies, surely, but the list of friends he boasted meant he should have been safe from harm. Or maybe it was simply that a girl didn’t like seeing her father powerless. Before Kyle had struck out on her own, it had just been her father and her. He had given her the strength and confidence to stride out into the world.
A whisper interrupted her thoughts.
The hammock above her own rocked gently, and Kyle could make out the shape of Teague peeking over, large dark eyes showing endless depth in the low light. They gestured down to Kyle, a gesture that Kyle instantly understood, and nodded her agreement to. Quietly, Teague slipped out of her hammock and down into Kyle’s.
