by Kell Inkston
“Go on,” she adds, “give me a single damn reason not to shoot him.”
A spry lad scoffs at Colette’s declaration. “Yeah, as if you would! If you shoot that guy, you’re dead!”
Colette’s expression is mixed a moment, but falls to a relaxed smile. “Alright, then I’ll shoot as many of you as I can before I die from your stupid bolts. I bet I can get at least five of you….” She waves her pistol wide across the crowd with a lively smile. “Who will it be?”
The guards, only seven in number, exchange nervous, cold glances. The spry lad, holding down his tremors, grins as widely as he can. “Y-yeah! But you’d still die! No one would be so crazy as t-” The guard stops once Colette draws a sharp, deep breath, and points the gun at her own person.
*BANG*
Colette shot herself in the hand. With a smooth, perfectly composed look on her face, she raises her brows. “Of course. No one could be that crazy.”
Every guard drops their weapon, and the red-handed Colette meets the action with a grin. “Excellent. I’m proud of you all. Now take me to the prisoners,” she says as she takes out The Captain’s bandages and spools it about her wounded hand.
Everyone draws back and exchanges looks of uncertainty. There’s an awkward, palpable feeling of worry flowing through the crowd. The guard captain sighs. “We actually can’t do that for you, Miss.”
“Eh? And why’s that?”
“There’s a force field, and we can’t really… get in.”
Colette looks up after finishing her bandaging. “Explain.”
The guard captain clears his throat. “There’s a Kalamest field that prevents entry.”
Colette squints. “Wait, but how could a Kalamest get through the mansion’s Ganastere field?”
He sighs again, looking aside in embarrassment. “Well, that’s just it. One couldn’t have. It had to be a person who was not a Kalamest, given the magic by a Kalamest. It’s probably someone who works here.”
Colette stares blankly. “So, you’re telling me that the Kalamests did the kidnapping, and had someone who worked for you guys plant all the prisoners in a room that he set the force field on?”
The guard captain nods.
“So, just find the people who aren’t Ganasteres, right?”
“Not quite that simple, Miss. So many generations have passed, no one really knows how much Kalamest or Ganastere blood they have in them.”
“Then let’s find out now! Gather everyone who works at the mansion, and have them try to enter the field!”
There are winces and cringes of discomfort displayed clearly in the crowd. The guard captain shakes his head. “You need to understand, Miss. A force field won’t just bar entry, but it will kill someone if they’re not allowed in. It’s vicious magic, and frankly everyone’s afraid that they have a little in them, most people know for sure that they do, and everyone else isn’t sure; it’s a huge risk.”
Colette sighs. “Then why didn’t you get a person on the outside to do it for you?”
“As I said, Miss, about everyone on this island probably has at least a little bit of each. The only people that could travel through our Ganastere field, and the Kalamest field containing the prisoners, would have to be someone who has neither Kalamest nor Ganastere blood, and my employer requested we keep the information that we were holding prisoners a secret. The public would go nuts.”
Colette laxes and puts away the pistol. “Well, I’m neither. I’m not from this island.”
The guard captain smirks. “Yeah, I could tell that one, Miss. So…” He sighs. “Will you help us deactivate the field?”
She smirks.
The crowd is dispersed, and Colette goes down with the guard captain and a few others. In the basement level, there’s a room with a glowing, script-bound sphere breathing out of it. Colette takes a deep breath, and sticks her hand in. Nothing. There’s smiles and patting exchanged in the group as they watch Colette open the door. Inside the room are several weeks worth of preserved foods, rows of tied up captives, and an unconscious man with a crossbow and a note on his face. Her good friend, Grancis, is nowhere to be seen. She takes up the note, and reads:
My Dearest Cornmuffin, “Captain” Colette,
I took the liberty of acquiring Grancis for you, so that you might have the proper motivation to continue. The man you took this note from is a criminal the Kalamests paid incredibly well to pose as a Ganastere and ferry the captured people in. To release the prisoners, simply tear the spell-slip asunder. It should be located on the criminal’s person. Once you’ve saved them all and are dubbed the hero, come follow the main road to the highest point of the island. It is there where you and I will have our match.
Love, The Captain
(P.S. Please bring some crackers and cheese. I’m feeling a tad peckish. It’s the least you can do for putting me through all the bother of manipulating you like the little puppet we both know you are.)
Colette looks up from the letter with a bland, disappointed expression. “Dammit, Salt.” She proceeds now to undo the spell and untie the prisoners, who are incredibly thankful for being released. There is wide-spread celebration as the people march out of their holdings, some there for days upon days. Once they burst out onto the street, people watching question why they were in the Ganastere estate, rather than the expected Kalamest. The guard captain is kept busy explaining to everyone the situation, but they only believe him once he brings out the criminal, the perpetrator of the crime. Casks are burst open, the fine foods are brought out, and the town ascends in celebration. Colette is the only one left uncertain. She taps the guard captain. “Hey.”
“Ahh, hello, Miss.”
“Something’s confusing me.”
The guard captain, sipping at some wine, raises an aged, grandfatherly brow. “Yes?”
“So… You guys had nothing to do with stealing the Kalamest’s gauntlet?”
He looks at her strangely. “Gauntlet? Miss, we did nothing of the sort, and you’re mistaken also, that we only have one. You see, both families have two gauntlets- four in all.”
Her heart skips a beat and her eyes slowly widen. “W… Oh great… oh super… What?”
He nods casually as he takes a few seconds to appreciate the music playing nearby. “Yes. You see, there was this warlock, and a captain from across the waves killed him and forged his soul into two pairs of gauntlets to keep the power balance in check. Kalam, who was the first of the warlock’s two sons, loved him and aided him in his evil plans. The second, Ganas, helped this captain in finding him, because he knew he was evil and all that rubbish. So once the warlock was dead, the captain split the two pairs between the sons, certain that if one had all the power, he would oppress the children of the other. It’s good, then, that no one’s ever gotten their hands on both pairs. Our entire society would collapse!”
Colette’s stomach clenches and she breaks into a sweat. “Wait, so if someone were to get both pairs of gauntlets, what exactly would happen?”
The guard captain shrugs. “Frankly I can’t say for sure, Miss. But I would guess that, because both pairs have a part of the warlock’s soul, they could be re-merged and he could be resurrected. That would be terrible! I could only imagine how bad that would be. But of course, that’ll never happen.”
She takes a sharp, painful breath hearing this. “So… just as confirmation, you mean to say… you mean to say that you have two gauntlets.”
“Yes, Miss. That’s what I said. Weren’t you listening?”
“… Where are they?”
“Oh, in a password-protected room in the manor. Totally impenetrable to all but a Ganastere, considering only the head of the family knows it. He checks on the gauntlets every evening.”
Colette nods blankly, coming to terms with what she’s done; what a horrible, horrible thing she’s done. “Okay then… Thanks for… your time,” she says, turning away from the music and celebration.
The guard captain furrows his brow. �
�Aren’t you going to enjoy the party? You saved the day, young lady!”
“No, I only saved the warlock,” she says, stepping off somewhere.
The guard captain shrugs and goes to dance in the square with the others.
The Captain and Jobber Ketiere Have a Physical Dispute in Which the Victor is not Clearly Decided “Or” The Captain Dies
The wind is high as a burdened Colette steps along the trail to the highest point of the island. The chills racing about her spine won’t stop, and she feels sick to her stomach. The pain from where she shot herself in the hand is not punishment enough for her foolishness, she feels, but she refuses to turn over and give up. Though the fire in her eyes have burnt its fuel, there’s a persistent spark that continues the blaze. She’s confused. She doesn’t know who’s on whose side, or where the lies end and the truth begins, but she is certain of a few things.
Colette is damn well certain she will win the duel with The Captain, get Grancis back and shoot whoever is responsible for this madness. This is like the card game on the ship. She’s been a toy in the hands of professional players all this time and now it will end. This time, she knows their tricks, she’s certain of it.
At the top of the point, The Captain, his rifle holstered around him as if he were dressed for an inspection, peers out over the wide forests of the island. It’s obvious he’s already lost a good deal of sand from the knot she tied into him- he’s drooping a bit, like a deflating balloon.
“Looking for me?” Colette asks, pulling something from her pockets.
“No, actually,” he says as he continues to look out. “Just wondering where they could be hiding now that they have all four gauntlets.”
Colette sighs. “You know about that?” She asks over the gusting breeze.
“I do indeed. You’ve placed this island in quite the matter. Perhaps you’re not ready to be a captain at all,” he says as he slowly turns from the cliff. Instantly, he’s met with a box of crackers striking his face.
“Well it’s not like you helped. I don’t even care what you think, you sandy dick.” She says this, throwing the bar of cheese as well, which also hits The Captain square in the face.
“I’ve helped you more than you know, my oatmeal.”
“That’s not even a pastry,” she snaps back.
The Captain shrugs. “Well perhaps I don’t even care what you think,” he says, pointing thoughtfully as he crouches to the ground.
She steels herself in frustration. “If you knew about the plot, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I had to learn this on my own, and so do you. Thinking on problems creates valuable self-reflection… Besides… I didn’t know myself,” he says as he reaches down and picks up the cheese and crackers. He unwraps the packaging and begins stuffing bits of each in between his bandages. “Oh, this is delicious!”
Colette scowls. “But you did know who the bad guys were! Why are you so damn cryptic all the time?! You could have been like ‘Oh, I actually already knew the Kalamests were evil and trying to revive this ancient warlock the whole time.’ But noooo! You had to ‘teach me a lesson!’ Does it ever occur to you that I’ll learn this stuff just by watching you do your work? Do you really have to make me shoot myself in the hand to get the point across?”
“Yes,” The Captain says, his body making a very strange, inhuman grinding sound as he devours the food. “You see, dearest Miss Ketiere, the best teacher of the captain is pain. I can tell you all the truths of the universe, but you won’t believe any of it until it bites you in your imperious little ass… Now, for your benefit, while you did complicate this considerably, I still have this completely under my control… and you are under my control as well, of course.”
She steps forward. “No, Captain. I’m not. I’m myself. I make my own decisions. You can try to manipulate and trick me all you like, but you’ll never have me do something I didn’t intend to. I’m not a crook like you.”
The Captain laughs. “My dearest Ketiere, manipulating people isn’t necessarily wrong; it’s only a tool of the intelligent. Rulers, leaders, employers, even captains are manipulators of other humans. The difference in skill is whether or not the people being manipulated notice or mind that they are being controlled.”
“Then you must be pretty shitty at manipulating people, Salt, ‘cuz I mind a lot.”
“The minding and noticing parts are… interchangeable- but enough of that. You’ll learn it all in time. I’m actually quite confident that you’ll do the right thing, simply because I’m confident in my ability to train upstanding humans like yourself. I think it’s time for you to try and take the reins of The Nocturna from me.”
Colette’s quiet and slowly places her hand upon her revolver inside her coat. “What do you mean?”
The Captain nods. “Just as I said. Miss Ketiere. You seem ready to kill me. To accept your place in the procession of commanders upon The Great Vessel of Ghosts,” The Captain says, taking up his rifle and placing it on the ground. “If you kill me, you get my ship, my gun, and of course, my beloved hat. An exciting proposition, no?”
She squints at her commander. “You’re joking, right? I don’t actually want to kill you. You might be a major saltass, but I’m not just going to kill someone who’s unarmed.”
The Captain laughs, a very unnerving sound for Colette. “Yes, I imagined such, which is why I prepared a countermeasure.” Colette squints in uncertainty, and The Captain takes that as cue to continue. “Just two meters below us, is an unconscious Miss Vereyrty. She’s in peril. Such peril that you’re going to want to kill me once you know just how endangered she is at this moment. And I’m going to try to kill you, because of how I know you will react,” he says, placing the cheese and crackers aside on a rock.
Colette smirks with a gaze that oozes sarcasm. “Yeah, cool. Don’t lie to me, Captain.”
“And after I kill you, I’m going to take your best friend, and she’ll be helpless to resist,” The Captain says in a completely serious way.
“Yeah? Take her where?”
There’s a slight pause as The Captain reiterates. “I am going to take your best friend, Miss Ketiere. She’s skin’s quite smooth, and I like that.”
There’s a part of her that’s sure he’s lying, but the rest of her is crying out for action. “Th-that’s not even remotely funny, Captain,” she says, hair raising to their ends as she tightly grips the handle of her gun as if it were Grancis to keep her safe.
He leans his head forward in the most thug-like way Colette’s seen him. “Who the hell’s joking, ship hand?”
Her breathing picks up. Her guts churn in disgust and pent up anger. “You’re… You’re nuts. You can’t even physically do that. You’re just a bunch of stupid goddamn sand!”
The Captain chuckles, draws out a knife and runs it across his bandaged face. “You think I was talking about sex? How very childish. How perfectly base and expected of a sub-intelligent primate like yourself. Oh no-… I just like slicing people up.”
Her entirety’s shaking now as she draws her gun. “You… you wouldn’t!”
“Why else would I take up two useless girls on my ship like you two?”
“T-… to make us better! To teach us!”
The Captain laughs. “You idiot! I adore seeing people crushed. I saw the sparks in your eyes, the innocence. I just knew I had to save you both and then take it away. To nurture it for a time, and once I saw the childhood in your eyes being revealed to me, the trust, I’d crush it completely. I’m going to kill you like one captain to another, but little Grancis, your dear friend, I’m going to take my time with her. I heard her cry out in pain once in the kitchen when a pot fell on her foot, I could hardly keep myself from bursting in there and vivisecting her while telling her that everything was going to be okay. I wouldn’t have told you, and I was going to cook her up and serve her to you, only to have you connect the dots later that night.”
A few seconds pass as Colette struggles to s
tand her ground. “You… y-yo-you-you you bastard!”
A grin forms under The Captain’s bandages as he juts his body forward in a deadly stance. “Oh, yes~ This is going to be good! It’s been years since I’ve gutted some high-schoolers!” He says as he cracks his knuckles. Colette feels the brain-etched fear overcome her, hearing those black sand knuckles somehow crack, but she can’t be his pawn. She’s not going to let him do as he pleases to Grancis.
Colette aims her gun at the approaching Captain…
*BANG*
…and shoots him square in the head.
It tugs his full wrapping of bandages as the hole spews black sand, every grain blowing away on the high, direction-changing wind.
“Is that all, my little fruit? Is that all you can do to save poor little Grancis?”
*BANG BANG BANG BANG… BANG*
The Captain, filled with holes, grins widely as his body quickly loses strength, the sand blowing out all across the island. Boris’ knot plan worked, be it to stop him, or kill him. “Well, look at that. Maybe you are worth something after all.” He then reaches for his bandages, and finds they are not there. He looks to Colette’s hand, and sees the bandages that are wrapped around it. He laughs as the rest of the sand blows out of him into the air; she thinks she inhaled a little. The Captain’s clothes collapse to the floor harmlessly and his hat is slowly flapping across the ground by the breeze. Colette takes it up and places it securely on her head. She stands there a moment, listening to the wind, and then she hops down over the point to a lower ledge. Grancis isn’t here, but there is a note.
Dear Miss Ketiere,
Miss Vereyrty is safe and sound back on the Nocturna. Did you really think I would do such a thing? For shame- how degenerate!
I recovered her last night and made sure that the criminal involved wouldn’t get up until you were on the scene the next day. She’s happily cooking with Boris in their little culinary wonderland as they usually do, so since you killed me, you’re actually the last of the crew left on the island. Of course, if you’re reading this, I can only assume that I’m still super good at making you do exactly what I want you to, even when I’m dead.
