Pieces of Jade

by Lani Woodland

  The primates pawed at my clothes and my hair. One caught my arm, twisting it hard. The music stopped and I shoved the monkey away, regaining my smile when the music started again. I slapped at another monkey who tugged at my wreath, changing the key of the music, ruining the song. I pushed back, perfecting the harmony again.

  The music grew into a chest swelling crescendo. The sand beneath my feet jolted and a brisk wind assaulted me, sending my hair flying behind. A monkey grabbed at my waist, pulling my hands from the flower wheel and the music abruptly ended. I sent my elbow flying, hitting the animal and leaping for my flowers, clinging to the wreath of blossoms. The music picked up again, and reached its climax, holding out the last note to complete the beautiful finale. Then the heavens opened, beating down on me a frigid rain.

  My body startled from the dream. My eyes flew open and my jaw went slack. I was standing on the deck of the Promise, not in my bed. It was the middle of the night. And I was dripping wet.

  My heart ached to find myself on the ship and not on the island. The ship shuddered underneath me, in what felt like sympathy, as if it too had been unhappily awakened from the dream.

  The crew, who had formed a circle around me, stared at me, their moonlit faces wearing expressions from exasperation, to anger, and even amusement.

  “What?” I asked, taking a few steps backward. A set of strong hands reached out and grabbed my arms, restraining me.

  My wet clothes clung to me and my hair dripped down my neck, the dribbles rippled a chill across my skin. My teeth chattered and I shook my head, trying to understand what had happened. “What am I doing here?”

  I shook the crewman’s hands off of me and smoothed down my soaked nightshirt, trying to stand regally. “How did I get here?”

  The captain stepped out of the group, holding a dripping bucket, which he dropped onto the deck with a scowl and a raised eyebrow. “You pranced here, giggling and dancing.”

  “I—”

  “Pranced.”

  “Impossible. I never prance.”

  “Oh, but you did,” he assured me. “She did prance, did she not, William?”

  William tried unsuccessfully to smother his smile. “Yes, she did, right out of our room.”

  “So you see,” the captain continued, turning to look back at me, “you pranced your way up here and in the process you knocked out several of my crew.” He motioned to a couple of men who were collapsed on the deck. “Then you took the helm and altered our course.”

  “Altered course?” I asked. “But I thought we were waiting until morning.”

  The captain nodded. “Yes, well, that was the plan. Until you, in record time I might add, managed to move the ship to the other side of the island.” He extended his fingers and pointed to the shore, whose coastline looked different than it had before I went to bed.

  “So quickly? While I slept?” I asked slowly.

  “It appears, woman, that you were sleepwalking.”

  I shook my head. “Impossible. I’ve never sleepwalked in my life. And if I was so loud walking—”

  “Prancing.”

  I scowled. “—and giggling, why didn't you wake me?”

  His eyes lit angrily. “We tried. Anyone who touched you passed out cold.”

  “Oh,” I said sheepishly, crossing my arms for warmth. That explained the monkeys.

  “Here,” William said placing a blanket around my body. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, warming them.

  I spun around and looked toward the island once more. From our current location I was able to see a segment of the magical barrier that was different. The magic reflected differently, a slightly lighter shade than the rest of the shield, a kind of door that could be opened.

  “I think it was a dream from the island.” I pulled the blanket closer around me and contemplated my sleepwalking. “Its magic guided me.”

  “From the island?” William repeated, pivoting so he could stare out at the mystical place.

  “It speaks to the magic inside me.”

  The captain’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “Do you have enough magic to reply? Enough to lower the barrier so my brother and I can go ashore?”

  He wanted to leave me on the ship? My breath rushed from my lungs. I had to go to the island; it was calling for me. And I wanted to protect it from being ransacked by this crew. I worried about the pirates’ intentions and hesitated to aid them if they meant to plunder the birthplace of my ancestors. But the island hadn’t called for me alone; instead, it had used me to bring the entire ship here. I knew enough about magic to know that was significant.

  At this thought a small spark in the protective border lit up and I felt at peace. It didn’t matter what the pirates intended to do. The island would take care of itself. I considered the barrier again. I didn’t know the spell, but somehow I felt that if a drop of my blood touched it, the barrier would welcome me. Now I just had to convince the impossible man beside me of that.

  I bit my lip before answering carefully. “When I moved the ship, I directed it to the only place we’d be able to enter. I will have to take you through it. You’ll need my help.”

  The captain regarded me. “Very well. For your sake, I hope you’re not lying.”

  “You’d know if I was.”

  He smirked. “I know.”

  The men returned to bed, the night watch to their duties, but I stayed on deck. It was the middle of the night and I was dripping wet, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Instead, I tread the cold deck with the warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders to stare at the island that had invaded my dreams. Steadying myself on the rigging, I climbed onto the railing and let my legs dangle over the ocean, considering the birthplace of my ancestors that lay in the darkness beyond. I still couldn’t believe the Isle existed, let alone that I’d be rowing to its shore in the morning. I pulled the blanket tighter around me.

  A hand on my shoulder startled me. I spun around and only William’s quick reflexes kept me from tumbling into the sea.

  “You scared me,” I accused.

  “I noticed.” He leaned on the railing next to me.

  “Pretty amazing we’re here, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” I breathed in the night air. I wanted to share my secret with him, to tell him who I really was. If he knew my real identity I could share with him how much coming here meant to me. But I didn’t let that truth pass my lips. “It’s a shame the Emmía never got to see this.”

  “It is.” He leaned forward letting his elbows rest on the rail. “I think about her sometimes. The role my brother played in her tragedy. I feel sorry for her.”

  “Me too. Even if she does deserve to die, I—”

  William swiveled in my direction. “What?”

  I jerked back. “I feel sorry, too, even though she deserves to die.”

  “For an accident?” He shook his head and sighed. His breath left a white mist in the air. “You can’t really believe that.”

  “Her medallion fell off.” I tilted my head to gaze at the stars.

  He turned to face me. “You say that like it explains everything.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  “Maybe the medallion judged the action, but it didn’t judge her heart.”

  Waves broke against the side of the ship, their white spray standing out in the darkness.

  “What does that mean?” I finally asked.

  “It means that the medallions aren’t perfect. They judge the letter of the law, not the intentions of the person. Both should be taken into account.” He rested his chin on his fist. “If a running child accidently trips another who falls and dies, does the first child deserve death?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “It was an accident.”

  “So is what happened with the Emmía. Clay saw the whole thing. He said August was an idiot for approaching her from behind. It happened fast. She’s not guilty of anything except making a mistake. And I personally would never want to live in a society that
would kill someone for making mistakes.” He faced the ocean again.

  “You really believe that?” I shifted my seat on the hard railing.

  “With all my heart.” He yawned. “I’m for bed. We’re making an early start tomorrow. You coming?”

  “Not yet. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  I‘d never heard someone speak about the medallions that way. But then, hadn’t Lady Meredith and Pearl made similar arguments? Were they right? I didn’t move until the sun peeked over the horizon; even then, I still hadn’t made up my mind.

  The next morning, a thick fog hung in the air as the dinghy was lowered into the water. It brought back a sharp memory of when I had left the ship with James in a similar manner only weeks before. I shook it away and focused on the task before me. William and the captain rowed without a word, the gulls and the waves filling the silence.

  William sat across from me, his leg brushing mine as he pulled. I scooted sideways but he shifted, maintaining the contact. With each turn of the oar, his thigh pressed against my skirts. I inched away and he gave me a sideways grin, the skin around his scar pulling taut. “There’s a chill in the air, I’m trying to stay warm.”

  My mouth fell open. Was he flirting with me? Despite the chill, I suddenly felt warm. I turned away so he wouldn’t see my grin.

  The captain's brow furrowed as he looked over his shoulder at the shore, and I wondered what he must be thinking, now that he was so close to his goal. I fiddled with the gloves William had given me that morning, in case they needed my help rowing.

  “Witch, stop throwing yourself at William and keep a sharp eye out for the opening,” the captain said suddenly, and I started at the sound of his voice. “I don't want to be killed smashing into the boundary.”

  “You can’t see it?” I asked in surprise, and the men shook their heads. “Then how did we avoid hitting it with the ship?”

  “We’d been warned where to stop. Then to be sure, we fired a cannon at it and watched where the ball rebounded,” William explained.

  I laughed. “What an ingenious solution. Whose idea was that?”

  “His,” William said, tilting his head toward the captain.

  My smile faded. “Oh.”

  I peered at the thin purple barrier, unsure how the magic connected to it worked. Obviously it could be dangerous. I had the instinctive knowledge that my blood would let us pass but no real plan of how to apply it. Were there words I needed to chant, did it have to come from a certain hand, be applied in a specific manner? If I applied it wrong, would we be killed? I had felt so exhilarated at the pull of the magic that I hadn’t considered the possible danger. A breeze brushed my cheek and with it my mounting fear waned, it would be all right. The island wanted me here.

  “Stop,” I commanded, holding out my hand, and the two dragged their oars until we stopped.

  “Are we at the door?” William asked.

  I nodded as we bobbed near the entrance. Up close I could see a patch in the glistening surface, shaped like a hand.

  “A dagger please.” I held out my hand. The captain eyed me warily as he pulled a knife from his boot, but he handed it to me without arguing. “Excuse me. I need to get by.”

  The captain grumbled as I maneuvered past him and William so I could reach the front of the boat. I leaned forward over the edge and the boat rocked dangerously. For a moment I feared we would all be flipped into the water, but William grabbed me around the waist and steadied me.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” William asked, in a worried voice. His fingers squeezed my hips, his thumbs stroking my back. I almost dropped the knife. He chuckled. “Careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Her?” The captain grumbled. “What about us?”

  I peeled off my gloves and tucked them into the pouch at my waist. Taking a deep breath, I pricked each of my fingers with the tip of the knife, releasing a single drop of blood from each. “Move us a little closer. Slowly.” I sounded more confident than I felt. The captain slipped his oars back into the water, sliding us closer. Grateful for calm seas, I placed my hand against the shimmering patch.

  The tiny spots of blood connected with the wall, each soaking in before stretching out like rapidly growing vines, tracing thin glowing lines up, down, and around the magical seal. In a burst of power the web-like pattern spread until the whole barrier shone like lightning. It rippled, its vibrations rumbling through me, and the brightness dimmed into a mad twinkling, that glistened and blurred before collapsing like dust. The brothers gaped, open-mouthed; apparently even they could see what had just happened.

  A rush of power blew past me in a ferocious gust of wind. An immense amount of magic had been released, but it didn’t dissipate. I could feel it gathering, coalescing, forming. In a sudden insight I knew it was preparing to raise the barrier again. The currents of magic charged the air and raised my hair like static electricity.

  “It’s re-forming! We need to get past it,” I said, in a hurried voice. “Hurry, row forward. Now!” The men obeyed and the boat surged through the water.

  “Hurry! I’m not sure how long it will stay down.” I bit my lip. William and the captain worked, their muscles bulging as they heaved the oars through the sea. With a crack and burst of light the barrier sprang up inches from the back of our boat.

  “We made it!” My hand rose to cover my racing heart. “That was close.”

  William and the captain eased up on their frantic movements, letting us glide along the water as they caught their breath.

  “Well done, Sheridan!” William beamed at me. “You did it.”

  The captain snorted. “Except the part where we were almost killed. That much magic could have sliced us in half.”

  I ignored his complaint and let my eyes wander toward the beckoning island.

  The mist had burned off and the sun dazzled the sky, reflecting off the clear water and the white sandy beach. The rhythmic beat of crashing waves and the exotically scented breeze greeted us. Vibrant flowers and lush greenery surrounded tall swaying trees laden with ripe fruit. As we reached the shore, I stepped out of the boat, letting the warm water soak my shoes.

  “It’s beautiful.” I smiled at my companions who dragged the boat onto the sand.

  The smile died on my lips, however, when the captain shrugged, his glance sliding past me, inspecting the beach. How I wished I could share this moment with Pearl, my brothers, or my parents, instead of my pirate brother-in-law who wanted nothing more than to plunder my ancestral home. At least I could share it with William.

  My coarse hair fanned gently around my face as I inhaled, and a strong humming pounded in my veins. The wind tugged at my skirt and nudged me softly from behind.

  The men stumbled over their feet and the captain swung around with a growl.

  “I was just pushed.”

  I laughed. “I think the island wants us to go this way.” I gestured toward a path.

  “Oh the island does, does it?” The captain shook his head, but followed the wishes of the wind and allowed himself to be guided forward.

  Overgrown vines and branches encroached on the worn trail as we moved down the lane. We walked in silence as the trees grew denser and the soft sand underfoot gave way to hard-packed earth. Soon the foliage became so dense we could no longer walk through, and the men pulled out their swords to cut a path, sweating from the effort. I followed after them, grateful to let them do the work.

  “May I help you over the trunk, Sheridan?” William asked, as we reached a thick fallen tree in the path. Before I could respond he lifted me over it, holding me by my waist. He put me down slowly close to him. So close I could see flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. The lurch in my heart surprised me.

  “Are you going to help me too, William?” Clay asked climbing over the fallen tree.

  “Thanks,” I said to William, stepping back willing my face to not flush. Eventually, the thick growth gave way to a clearing and we all stopped, g
aping.

  In front of us stood what once had been an elegant town, each home constructed of black volcanic stone, mortared like brickwork, with weathered roofs of braided palm fronds and windows with rotted oilcloth still flapping in the wind. The weather-beaten homes were laid out along the contours of the land, blending in naturally with the surrounding beauty.

  I could almost see my ancestors there, transparent but living phantasms, bustling about their day’s work as the children played. The empty houses filled me with an indescribable sorrow. How sad that a plague had destroyed all who once lived here. Then my eyes landed on something in the house nearest to me, something I must be imagining.

  I stumbled toward it, my eyes fixed on the spot of dull white reflecting grimly in the sun. I braced myself against the rough stone that framed the door and peered down at the floor, lost in revulsion.

  The skeletons of an entire family lay there. The father, I would guess, lay across the threshold of the door, as if to protect his family. But that’s not what had drawn me here. It was the sword still stuck through the bones of his ribcage, pinning what was left of his corpse to the ground. Time had eaten away his flesh, and the sun had bleached the bones of his outstretched arm, leaving it a much lighter shade than the rest of his skeleton. The rest were huddled in a corner, the arms of a larger skeleton enclosing the frames of three smaller ones in an embrace. The skull from what had to have been the mother rested several feet away, its empty eye sockets staring up dully into the roof of their home.

  Someone had murdered this family. But why? And why had no one buried their remains? How could they find peace in the next life without burial?

  The captain appeared at my side. He kicked at the sword’s hilt, making it tremble in the air. “That sure doesn’t look like death by epidemic.”

  The sounds of footsteps crunched behind me, and I heard William swearing as he absorbed the scene in front of him.

  “Come with me, Sheridan,” William said at length.

  “We can’t leave them like that. Their souls aren’t at rest until they’re buried.”