Dance of a Burning Sea

by Mellow, E. J.

  He had Esrom to save. His brother to aid. A ship of pirates to command.

  Niya didn’t know what to do. She was stuck, cornered. And at the thought, a ferocious wave of anger rose within her. She loathed being forced into any situation. Somehow she had to regain control.

  “Come on, fire dancer, you always talk a big game. Why not show me what you’ve threatened to do to me for so long?” Alōs’s cool words brought her attention back to him, where he began to circle her. “Or is it that when it comes down to it, you lack the conviction to ever really finish what you’ve started?”

  Icy annoyance prickled over her skin. “What are you talking about?”

  “You have told me many times how you hate me; now is your chance to show me.” He spread his arms wide.

  “Stop this.” Niya frowned. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “Prove that you are the weakest of the three?” Alōs’s features remained a frozen lake. “The one with the most liability? Tell me, have your sisters ever put your family in as much danger as you have?”

  His words fell like lashes to her heart. But she wouldn’t rise to the bait. He was trying to anger her so she would make the first blow. But she couldn’t. They couldn’t. There had to be another way out of this. “Don’t.” She shook her head. “Whatever you are—”

  “Did you know”—Alōs prowled closer, a whisper of his breath along her ear—“when I left your rooms those four years ago, after you gave me so many, many precious pieces of you, I immediately sought the bed of another.”

  Sharp anger erupted, ferocious, through Niya’s body. Her clenched hands heated.

  But she couldn’t reveal her magic. Not now. Not yet. Still, Alōs was toeing too close to a forbidden line. Lies, she thought. These are lies. But the doubts still crept into her heart, wrapped like bladed wire to puncture deep.

  “You see,” he continued in a purr, “while you certainly were a delight, my darling, there are some pleasures virgins cannot satiate in a man.”

  The room disappeared as a roar broke free from Niya, her fist connecting to jaw.

  He stumbled back, head whipping to the side as a distant crowd cheered their excitement.

  Niya gulped in breaths full of rage as Alōs rubbed his chin, his turquoise eyes bright, consuming, behind his mask of cool as he glanced back at her.

  “You call that a punch?” he taunted. “No wonder you rely so heavily on”—his gaze roamed her body—“other things.”

  “Stop!” Niya stomped forward, shoving him. “Don’t do it like this. If you want a fight”—Niya pushed again—“then fight back!”

  “But I would win entirely too quickly that way,” crooned Alōs. “It appears I share a similar trait with our audience: I like to play with my food.”

  The chief’s laughter echoed toward them. “Who knew our unwanted guests could be so very entertaining!”

  His subjects shouted their agreement.

  Niya shook her head, trying to clear away her surging desire to burn. But it spun hot, searing deep into her belly. Reactionary fire. Let us out, her magic crooned. Let us cook him, burn him, eat his flesh from bone.

  “I wonder if any of my crew will even notice your absence?” Alōs taunted. “So many thought you useless, after all.”

  “Lies,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “You are filled with nothing but lies this night!”

  “And you cowardice,” he spat back. “Tell me, honestly, have you ever been able to find another who fills you with as much feeling as I? Or who has filled you so thoroughly as I?”

  The echoing of crude jeers erupted all around as Niya finally snapped. She landed a new blow, then another and another. Left cheek, right, upper jaw. None Alōs attempted to block.

  “Hit me!” screamed Niya as she pounded against Alōs’s chest, broken skin along her knuckles stinging. “Who is the coward now? Hit me!”

  “I am, my sweet.” He looked down his nose at her. “I’m hitting you with the truth. The truth of how inconsequential you are.”

  “More lies!” She spun, kicking him in the side.

  He stumbled.

  The room held its breath along with Niya.

  The first to fall.

  “No!” Niya grabbed his arm, steadying him. “Stand up and fight back! Why will you not fight back?”

  “Because,” said Alōs, displaying crimson-covered teeth with his wicked grin, “you were hardly ever a proper opponent to begin with. How many times have I bested you now?” He gripped her wrist hard, raising her binding bet between them. “I’m starting to lose count.”

  Niya growled her frustration, shoving him away.

  “Tell me, Chief.” Alōs turned to the old giant. “What seasoning will you use on the female when you cook her?”

  The chief’s grin was ear to ear. “Oh, she looks like she’d be good spicy.”

  “Right you are,” agreed Alōs. “But you see, I’ve tasted her and can also attest to her sweetness.”

  All thought drained from Niya, her gaze tingeing red as she charged him, spin kicking Alōs across the face.

  Alōs’s head snapped back, but his returning smile was maddening as he wiped the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, only to lick it from his finger. “And I suggest you save her most ample bits for last,” he went on, staring straight at her. “I could have savored her breasts for sand falls.”

  “You bastard!” Niya’s vision warped, pulling in all her magic to converge into her booted foot as it connected with his chest.

  Alōs soared, landed on his back, and stayed there.

  The room exploded in cheers as the faint sound of the chief’s voice declaring her the victor filled her whirring head.

  Niya blinked, her rapid anger knocked away as the reality of the situation slammed down upon her like boulders from a mountaintop.

  “Alōs!” She ran to him.

  His face was cut and bleeding, one eye already swelling shut as she cradled his head in her lap. Niya had done this to him. Claws of guilt gripped her throat, threatening to strangle it closed.

  “Why?” demanded Niya, her voice breaking. “Why did you not fight back?”

  Alōs’s one good eye locked on hers, the center of a flame still burning. “Because, fire dancer, how do you fight someone who is no longer your enemy?”

  It was as if someone had squeezed her heart so it could no longer beat.

  “But we were meant to.” Niya shook him in frustration. “You forced us to.”

  Alōs’s pained features softened. “Yes, and it was far more important that you win.”

  Win.

  The word felt gross and heavy. This was no win. Everything about this screamed loss.

  “You are more valuable on this plane than I, fire dancer.” Alōs touched her cheek, and she leaned into the soft caress, so different than her pounding fists. “Your sisters need you. The Thief King needs you. I could not allow the Mousai to end this night.”

  “You fool,” she cried. It was as if the very air around Niya were drowning her. “This is not the time for you to become a martyr. What of the Crying Queen? Esrom? We can run. Fight. Now, we can—”

  “No.” Alōs trapped her shaking hands, which had begun to glow. His gaze darted to the giants, who were moving in around them. “You must find control. If you show you have gifts, they certainly will not let you leave. Deal or no.”

  “I don’t care!”

  “Listen to me, Niya,” Alōs said, speaking past her. “If there’s one thing I ask of you, it’s that you finish this. Take the pieces back to Esrom and finish it.”

  Everything inside her was cracking and shattering. “Alōs, stop—”

  “Kintra knows what to do once there. She will be captain now. Do you understand? I know you still do not forgive me for what I have done to you, and I will take that to the Fade, but please say you will do this for me.”

  Niya’s vision blurred, but she refused to let a single tear fall. “I do forgive you, Alōs. I do.
But we will both take it back to Esrom.”

  “Stubborn until the very end.” He smiled before wincing in pain.

  Niya’s heart clenched as she wiped strands of hair from his face. “I refuse to have this end this way.”

  “Then let us remember it differently.”

  Alōs pulled Niya down to him and kissed her, his other hand gripping her hip. He tasted like iron, but Niya didn’t care about the blood, because she also knew he tasted like the first cool glimpse of stars at night, the piercing white dusting of infinite possibilities.

  Niya realized in a horrible desperation that a world without Alōs Ezra would be a terrible one. A boring one. And if there was one thing Niya despised most, it was boring.

  Large, rough hands pulled them apart. Niya was pushed into a cage.

  “Thank you for visiting us here on Hallowed Island,” said the chief as she was lifted. “It was most entertaining.”

  Niya pressed against the glass, staring down at Alōs bleeding on the stone floor far below.

  “Finish it!” he called to her. “Finish it and be free.”

  And then all Niya could see were the backs of giants as she was carried away, and her surroundings ceased to have meaning.

  Niya was deposited at the edge of the jungle.

  She didn’t even know if it was the right part of the island.

  Nor did she care.

  Her entire body was overtaken with rage. Desperation. Anguish. Her magic swam dark. Go back, her powers coerced. Let us see how tasty their meat is. I bet it burns easy. I bet it burns bright.

  Enough! she silently commanded.

  The only thing keeping her from obeying was the lump in her pocket. She had felt Alōs place it there when they’d kissed, his last graze of fingers against her hips.

  Stumbling through brush, she stepped onto the beach and collapsed in the cool sand, pulling the stone free.

  The last piece of the Prism Stone felt small and insignificant in her palm. The dark red matched the dried blood staining her shirtsleeve. Alōs’s blood.

  She looked into the creeping dawn on the horizon, a barely discernible speck of a ship in the distance.

  Finish this.

  Alōs’s last words seemed to echo in the crashing waves hitting shoreline and the boat that had been left there.

  Finish this.

  And be free.

  Niya would.

  But not yet.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Niya’s hands ached as she climbed the ladder on the side of the Crying Queen, leaving her rowboat tied and fighting the waves that smacked against the side below.

  “They’re back!” called Bree to the rest of the crew as Niya landed on the foredeck.

  “Where’s the cap’n?” asked Boman.

  “Did you see any giants?” questioned Therza.

  “Did you get back what the cap’n needed?” wondered Green Pea.

  Niya answered none of the pirates as her gaze momentarily met Kintra’s above her on the quarterdeck, before she strode past the group toward the captain’s quarters.

  “Keep back, rats,” instructed Kintra behind Niya. “I’ll get all the gossip to satisfy your appetite.”

  Niya pushed through the door at the end of the dark hall, only to stop as the lingering sensation of Alōs’s magic enveloped her. The cool threads danced over her body. Covered everything in the room. A chilled whisper of power. Mine.

  Niya hated how comforting that whisper now felt. How it brought welcome goose bumps to her skin, followed by sharp dread.

  Niya forced herself forward, rounding Alōs’s desk. The early sunrise streamed through the paned glass at her back, painting the wood in a honey finish.

  “Where is he?” Kintra stood in the doorway, watching as Niya fumbled to open his locked drawers. “What’s happened?”

  “We were caught. He’s to be eaten.”

  “What?” Kintra shut the door behind her.

  “I know you have the keys to this.” Niya kicked the sturdy desk in frustration. Her magic couldn’t do so much as loosen a hinge.

  “Niya, stop,” said Kintra, approaching.

  “You don’t understand!” Her gaze swung to the quartermaster. “We don’t have much time. I must get help.”

  “Get help?” Kintra frowned. “Look around. We are help.”

  “Pirates will not help here. We need magic. A lot of magic.” Niya strode to the bookshelf, pulling out spines, searching behind them.

  “By the stars and sea, will you stop?”

  Only because she had never heard Kintra raise her voice before did Niya obey.

  “Thank you,” huffed Kintra. “Now, tell me what you are looking for.”

  Niya ran a hand through her hair, a tangling mess coming out of its braid. “A portal token. I know Alōs must have some in his personal bounty, which he keeps in this room, yes?”

  Kintra eyed her suspiciously. “Perhaps.”

  “And you have the key to it, being his most trusted second-in-command.”

  Kintra didn’t answer.

  “Well?” Niya shoved out her palm. “Don’t just stand there like a statue for the birds—hand it to me.”

  “You truly must be off your sails if you think I’m to give you Alōs’s treasure with barely an explanation.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? He’s to be eaten!”

  “By giants?”

  “Who else would be able to stomach such a sour soul? Yes, giants. We found the final piece.” Niya fumbled in her pocket, her fingers trembling with barely contained magic as she revealed the small shard of the Prism Stone. “And then were caught.”

  Kintra stared at the gem, the red reflecting in her dark eyes. “You got it.”

  “Yes, we got it.”

  “It’s over.”

  “Not quite. Kintra, please, where does he keep his bounty?”

  “But you escaped? Not Alōs.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Niya felt Kintra’s quick movement, the singing of her blade as she unsheathed it.

  “What are you doing?” Niya spun, placing the desk between them.

  “Do you think I am a fool?” Kintra’s gaze was an aimed arrow as she held her knife at the ready. “You want a portal token to escape after feeding Alōs to the giants.”

  Niya slammed her brows down. “No. That is not—”

  “You cannot kill those who hold your binding bet with your own hand, so you found a way around it. And to think I was beginning to believe you were one of us.”

  “Kintra, listen to what you are saying,” Niya said in an exasperated breath. “If I were planning to walk away now, why would I have told you about the Prism Stone? Why would I have come back here at all?”

  “Because it’s the only way to leave.”

  “We don’t have time for this!” Niya threw out her hands, frustration boiling over. “Alōs could be getting chopped to bits right now!”

  Kintra glanced to Niya’s wrist, to where her debt was inked. “No, unlucky for you, my captain still lives.”

  Niya hadn’t thought of her band disappearing as a sign of Alōs’s death. With a fresh shot of panic, her powers vibrated along her veins. Another unknown sandglass flipped over.

  “Kintra, I do not want to use my powers on you, but I will if you do not shut up and stand down.”

  Kintra lunged at her, but Niya knocked away her daggered hand. Spinning, she jumped atop the desk and pinned the quartermaster to it.

  But Kintra was a pirate of the Crying Queen and easily slipped from her grip.

  She attacked Niya again.

  “I’m . . . giving . . . you . . . one last . . . chance . . . to stop,” Niya warned, blocking blow after blow, making a point not to extend any blows back. She had inflicted enough pain this day.

  A vision of Alōs’s bruised and bleeding face filled her vision.

  Niya’s desperation soared.

  “You know,” said Kintra while attempting an uppercut, “he was beginning to trus
t you too.”

  “And you know what?” asked Niya after dodging it. “This is growing tedious.”

  Spinning like a gust of wind, she shot out a red wave of her magic. It blazed against Kintra, sending her flying against the bookcase.

  Heavy tomes fell, plunk, plunk, plunk, atop her head as she slid to the ground, unconscious.

  “I’m sorry.” Niya crouched beside her, feeling under her clothes. “But I did warn you.”

  She pulled a chain from around Kintra’s neck. On it dangled a group of small keys.

  “One of these should work.” She tugged them free.

  Rounding Alōs’s desk, Niya began to unlock drawers, rifling through them as her desperation climbed. But then her fingers stilled, heart lurching, as she found one with a false bottom. Sliding it to the side, she revealed a heavy onyx chest.

  She let out a shaky, hopeful sigh, but as she grabbed the box, a consuming cold burned her fingers.

  Niya hissed, dropping the chest.

  A defensive spell.

  “Clever, pirate,” said Niya before pushing flames awake along her palms, protective gloves of sorts, to grasp the box once more.

  This time her hold held, sending steam sizzling through the air as the conflicting magic collided. Fire fighting ice.

  She settled the chest on the desk with a heavy thunk, quickly trying each key again on the chain. Finally an unlatching click as the lid swung open. “By the lost gods,” she breathed.

  Atop Alōs’s desk an array of precious gems, gold coin, and silver winked out like a temptress. Niya opened a felt bag resting on top, finding the other pieces of the Prism Stone.

  She swallowed down the rising ball of anguish as she added the final one. They each glowed bright for a grain fall, a whispering sigh of relief to be reunited, before fading to dark.

  It was done. The pieces were collected. But Niya’s sense of accomplishment was void. There was much still to do.

  Pushing aside the bag, Niya fingered through the rest of the bounty, searching for the one thing she needed more than any of the riches before her. “Please be here, please be here, please be—aha!” Snagging up a silver portal token that swirled black in the middle, she kissed it. “Always a sight for sore eyes.”