Sky Pirates

by Liesel Schwarz

  “Well, bottoms up,” she said. “This probably tastes better hot than cold.” She shut her eyes tightly and took a large bite of the cooling mass of legs and body. She did this deliberately as she wanted to fit as much of it into her mouth as she could. She knew she might not be brave enough to do it twice.

  Roast tarantula tasted exactly how one would imagine a spider would taste. Burnt crispy with a hint of ash on the outside and all gooey on the inside. Elle swallowed, feeling every nerve in her body shudder in revulsion, but she persevered. The spider was food, she told herself. And she needed food to survive. And besides, she was not going to allow Dashwood to show her up.

  She swallowed the chewed mass and opened her eyes. Strangely enough, it really did not taste that bad once you made a point of forgetting that it was a giant, hairy spider.

  Dashwood was staring at her in shock, his own spider still untouched and cooling on the stick in his hand.

  “Is something the matter, Captain?” she said sweetly. For effect, she took a second bite, finishing off as much of her dinner as she could in one big gulp.

  Dashwood had turned a little green around the gills as he stared at his spider. “I was only kidding. You know, doing it to see if you’d scream. I didn’t think you’d actually eat the spider,” he said.

  “Oh no you don’t, Captain. You’ve killed and cooked it, so you had better eat it. Those poor creatures did not just die so you could tease me.” She put her stick aside, immensely grateful that the spider had not been bigger. “Come along now, chop-chop. Waste not, want not.”

  She watched Dashwood, a smile hovering on her lips, as he took a bite. He looked as if he was about to expire with revulsion as he chewed and swallowed and gagged.

  Elle sat back on the platform with a growing sense of satisfaction. What a story this would be to tell one day. If they survived long enough to tell it.

  The next morning, bright, dappled sunshine broke through the chilly mists that lurked on the forest floor.

  Elle woke with her head on Dashwood’s shoulder. In search of heat and comfort, they must have gravitated toward one another during the night.

  “Good morning,” Dashwood said next to her.

  “Good morning.” Elle rubbed her face. She looked about her. “Well, that was rather silly. Both of us falling asleep like that. Who knows what could have crept onto us in the night,” she said, looking about.

  “You looked like you needed the sleep, and I didn’t have the heart to wake you,” he said.

  “How very gallant of you,” she said.

  Dashwood slipped out from under their tarpaulin and stretched. He straightened his crumpled shirt as much as he could and strolled off into the bush to attend to nature’s necessities.

  Elle sighed and pulled out her compass. It was most fortunate that she always carried it in her pocket for good luck, as she would have lost it in the crash if she had stowed it. She stared at the needle as it wound round and found north. Knowing the general direction was reassuring, but without a fixed point of reference she needed to take a bearing, they were still as good as lost. She looked around.

  “So, where to next?” Dashwood said as he stepped out of the underbrush.

  “Well, we have been walking in an easterly direction, sort of. That’s the best I can do,” Elle said. She looked up at the tree that formed the basis of their makeshift sleeping arrangement. The trunk was split into a number of thick boughs that had been most useful for lashing their tarpaulin to. In the morning light the boughs also looked infinitely climbable.

  “I think I’ll go up there and see if I can find a landmark,” she said. “At least we know there are no tarantulas left in the tree.”

  “I’ll give you a hand up,” Dashwood said. He knitted his fingers together in order to form a stirrup for her. Elle clambered up the tree. Higher and higher she went until the branches started bowing.

  “Can you see anything?” Dashwood called out.

  Elle scanned the sky through the boughs of the tree. “Looks like there is a mountain to the southeast,” she said.

  “Yeah?” Dashwood was looking up at her.

  “Let me just take a bearing.” She pulled her compass out and started lining it up with the sun. It was a tricky task as she needed the compass to lie straight, which meant she had to lock her legs in order to let go with her hands. Carefully she wedged her boot into the notch between two thick branches.

  She was so engrossed in her compass that she did not notice the green snake she had disturbed with her boot. Silently, it slithered up the branch next to her.

  “Got it!” Elle called down as she placed her compass in her pocket. She put her hand out to steady herself and it took her a moment to realize that instead of the branch, her fingers were wrapped around the cool scales of the snake.

  “Whoa!” Elle called out in fright as she let go. The snake hissed at her and Elle reared backward, losing her foothold. She let out a scream as she tumbled to the ground.

  “Elle!” Dashwood yelled as he ran over. He leaped up onto the platform and grabbed her as she fell. They both landed heavily on the bamboo, while the snake dropped into the undergrowth and disappeared.

  “Ow,” Dashwood said as soon as he managed to catch his breath.

  “Ow indeed,” Elle said. She found herself on top of Dashwood, chest to chest, with his arms around her shoulders from where he had caught her. “Thanks for breaking my fall, just the same,” she said.

  “You’re welcome. Did you get bit by that snake?” He made no move to get up.

  “No, just got a fright.”

  The moment stretched out between them and suddenly things were awkward. Elle started to struggle, pushing herself up and away from his chest.

  “Easy there,” Dashwood said as he started moving away too, but their platform had not been built to absorb the shock of heavy falls, and in that moment, the rope and vines they had used to lash the bamboo poles together slipped and gave way. With a groan and a crack the platform collapsed and they both rolled over and tumbled into the mud. To add insult to injury, the water that had accumulated in the tarpaulin above them splashed to the ground, drenching them completely and extinguishing the embers of their fire.

  “Get off me!” Elle rolled Dashwood off her and sat up. In addition to being soaked, she was now also covered in the most foul-smelling mud imaginable. Dashwood, on the other hand, had missed the worst of the mud altogether.

  “And thanks for breaking my fall,” he said. His teeth were very white against the general dirt on his skin.

  He held out his hand and helped Elle up out of the mud.

  “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” he said.

  “No, I think the snake got a bigger fright than I did. Apart from a few scrapes and a bruise or two I think I am still in one piece.” She wiped the mud off her face and despite herself, she started laughing. It was the kind of uncontrollable hunger-and fatigue-filled laughter that welled up from deep inside. The kind that cannot be suppressed. She laughed and laughed until she was bent double and gasping for air.

  Dashwood started laughing too.

  Eventually Elle managed to straighten up. She wiped some of the mud off her brow and flicked it onto the ground. “Well, at least it will deter the mosquitoes,” she said.

  “I think it might do more than that,” Dashwood said. “We had better get you washed off. Even small cuts can get very nasty out here if left untended.”

  “Well, Captain, then I suggest we follow my bearing to the mountain. That way,” she said, pointing ahead of them. “We will either find people or, at the very least, we will be up high enough to spy where we need to go. What do you say? Are you with me?”

  Dashwood gave an exaggerated sigh for effect. “Against my better judgment, Mrs. Marsh, I choose to be with you. But if you end up getting me killed, I am going to be very annoyed with you.”

  She stuck out her hand and shook his. “Then we are agreed.”

  He wiped off the mud from his
trousers which Elle had transferred to him. “A pact sealed in mud,” he said.

  She pulled out her compass and studied it for a moment. It had, mercifully, survived her fall from the tree. “It’s that way,” she said.

  Dashwood peered into the jungle. “Well, one guess is as good as another right now, so that way it is.” He picked up his machete. “Lead on, Mrs. Marsh. Let’s hope we can find a nice hotel with running hot water along the way.”

  CHAPTER 22

  The trek toward the mountain through the jungle was not easy, for woman cannot travel on roast spider alone. As the day wore on, it became hotter and hotter. Humidity rose up from the ground, steamy and dank, and threatened to suffocate them. Thirsty and weak from hunger, Elle found that she had little energy for banter. They slashed their way through the never-ending mass of undergrowth and vines with a grim determination, always heading uphill and always keeping an eye on the compass.

  After what felt like an eternity of green foliage, the thick undergrowth opened up quite abruptly. Elle and Dashwood stumbled into a clearing, both of them hot, sweating and gasping from exertion.

  Elle looked around. Most of the vines were missing, perfectly rectangular rocks were tumbled about as if they had been left there by a giant and in the clearing were some of the biggest trees Elle had ever seen. Between their thick, drooping roots, Elle could make out delicately carved stone arches.

  “It’s a building,” Elle said as they stared at the ruins.

  “Looks like a temple,” Dashwood said, stepping over a fallen branch.

  “Do you think it might be … ?” She did not dare say the words. Things never happened that easily. At least not to her.

  Dashwood shook his head. “No, I think it’s probably another abandoned temple. Looks old, though.”

  Elle ran her hand over one of the carved lintels. “People lived here,” she said. Seeing evidence of other humans suddenly seemed very strange and incongruous here in the middle of the jungle.

  Dashwood cocked his head, listening.

  Elle strained to hear too. Alongside the relentless din of jungle noises there seemed to be another sound in the clearing too. She could detect a soft hissing on the periphery of her hearing that had not been there before.

  “I think I hear water,” Dashwood said. “It’s this way.” He started walking along, following the sound which grew steadily louder.

  They clambered up some steep rocks and stood in awe.

  “Would you look at that,” Dashwood said, panting for breath. Before them, a wide waterfall, about fifty feet high, splashed over fat, dark rocks and into a pool that arched out gracefully before them. A fine mist spread out, covering everything in soft coolness.

  “Look at all that water,” Elle murmured. At the sight of it, her skin started to itch from the layers of sweat, mud and insect bites that covered her. “And a mango tree!” she exclaimed. To the side of them was a smallish tree, drooping with greenish yellow fruit. “Pass me the knife!”

  She ran up to it and pulled the fruit off the tree, using the blade to slice off chunks of mango then biting into the juicy fruit, eating it straight out of the peel.

  Dashwood joined her and soon they were both covered in sticky yellow juice.

  “I think that’s probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Elle said, swallowing.

  Dashwood did not answer her, for he was too busy stripping off his clothes and boots.

  She looked away quickly, only to see his dirty shirt and trousers land on one of the rocks beside her.

  “Perhaps—”

  She did not manage to finish her sentence because Dashwood gave a loud whoop and ran toward the pool.

  “I was going to say perhaps we should check the water for snakes or crocodiles, or deadly rocks first!” she called after him, her back still turned away from the water. “Also, you’re not supposed to swim directly after eating.”

  He did not answer. All she could hear were the delicious splashing sounds of someone swimming.

  She turned round.

  Dashwood was immersed up to his neck in the pool and he was busy scrubbing the dirt from his face and hair with much vigor. She could see the sunlight playing on his broad shoulders and farther down his torso as it refracted under the water.

  He stopped washing when he noticed her staring at him.

  “Oh, come on, Mrs. Marsh. Are you seriously going to play the prim matron? After all we’ve been through in the last few days?”

  She snorted. “I assure you, I am far from prim. In fact, I could probably teach you a thing or two, Captain.” She immediately regretted her reply, for out loud it sounded so much more provocative and flirtatious than it did in her head.

  “Only one way of finding out,” he called back. “All joking aside, this water is the best thing ever. And there are no snakes or spiders. Not as far as I can see. Just clean, pure water.” He scooped up a handful and drank it down.

  She took a step closer. The pool did look very inviting.

  Dashwood started laughing at her. “Are you really that prudish? I promise you, you don’t have anything I’ve not seen before.”

  His taunting annoyed her. “Standards are standards, Captain. Without them, we would descend into chaos. Please turn your back until I am in the water.” She started unbuttoning her shirt and tugging at the laces of her corset.

  “Are you serious?” he said.

  “Yes, absolutely. I don’t want you seeing me and then having all kinds of lascivious thoughts every time you look at me afterwards. Especially since I don’t know how long I have to be stuck out here with you. And besides, I am a married woman, so no peeking.”

  Dashwood sighed with exaggerated exasperation and turned his back to her, continuing to scrub himself.

  Elle pulled the last of her laces free, unpinned her hair and stepped out of her clothes. Using her hands to cover herself as best she could, she gingerly stepped across the rocks and pebbles toward the edge of the pool.

  The water was cool at first, but she sank into the pool with a groan of relief. Dashwood had been right—the water was like a soothing balm over her skin. It fizzed and whooshed around her with an energy that replenished her tired body. But Elle was too enthralled by the luxurious feel of the water washing over her to care about any errant Shadow tricks, and with great satisfaction, she ducked her head under the surface, feeling the cool against her face.

  “See? Was I lying?” Dashwood said as she emerged. He swam up to her, stopping about a foot away in the water.

  “Yes, you were. This is even better than you said.”

  She turned away and ducked her head underwater again to rinse the sweat out of her hair.

  But something under the surface made her want to open her eyes. Here, the water was flecked with gold light. It moved and caressed her body with an exquisiteness she had only ever experienced in the Shadow realm.

  Was this a place of magic? she wondered as her head broke the surface of the water. She took a deep, cleansing breath to fill her lungs with the cool, rich air.

  Shadow and Light be damned, she thought. Right now she honestly did not care one jot about the two realms and all the problems that surrounded them—all she wanted was to bathe here in this place for as long as she could.

  She swam across to the waterfall with slow strokes, her body slipping through the water with a sensuous ease. At the edge, she found a rock that had been worn smooth by the water and carved out into a hollow where she could sit. She ducked her head under the splashing water, allowing it to run over the contours of her body and through her long hair, snaking the auburn tresses in rivulets over her pale breasts. Elle lost all sense of space and time and, for a few exquisite moments, she became one with this place. She stayed under the pounding of the waterfall until her skin could take no more. Slipping out from under the spray, she ducked into the water, down into the colder depths of the pool and up again, her sensitized skin relishing the feel of the sun-warmed surface.

  “Y
ou are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” Dashwood said softly.

  Elle opened her eyes and found herself face-to-face with him. She had been so caught up in the magic of the water that she had completely forgotten about the fact that this man was here with her. But there he was, his large, warm body in the water next to hers.

  She started to say something to rebuke his rather obvious flattery, but something in his expression stopped her.

  He was being completely and utterly sincere.

  He reached up and ran his hand under her floating hair, admiring its red-gold hue with a reverence which made her ache inside.

  She swallowed, suddenly overcome with an irrational and urgent desire for him. “I—” she started saying, but he interrupted her by placing his lips over hers.

  The touch of his mouth on hers felt seismic. The shockwave of their connection seemed to come from the water itself, fracturing her inhibitions. All the emotion she had been holding back for so long thundered through her like a tidal wave, ripping away all the careful, protective constructs she had built up inside.

  Elle was swept away by the deluge; her only lifeline was the man holding her and she clung to him like a drowning soul.

  Somehow they found themselves back on the hollow seat, the cool rock against her back as they touched with warm hands and mouths. Then he was inside her and she welcomed him, opening up to him with an urgency neither of them expected. They moved together, the exquisite friction building until she gasped and they both climaxed with such force that Elle could feel the water vibrate around them.

  Afterward, he carried her to a sun-warmed rock where they lay in the golden light until they were dry.

  “I don’t really know what to say,” Dashwood murmured. He was lying stretched out behind her, his fingers lazily combing her hair.

  “Shh. Don’t say anything. Sometimes it’s better that way,” Elle said softly.

  Dashwood kissed the top of her head. “Let’s leave this jungle. Forget about the lost city. Come away with me. We can find another ship. Crew it up and fly. We can go wherever you wish.”