by James Maxey
“The midwife vowed to follow his wishes and took the child from his home. Only, she had other plans for the baby. Circuses paid good money for freaks. In the months that followed, she began to display signs of newfound wealth. Father accused her of stealing from him. She confessed to having sold the infant.”
“And you think Bigsby’s that child?” asked Gale.
Brand nodded. “My father kept his secret for almost two decades. He remarried twice, but lost child after child to stillbirths. I thought I was the only child to have survived. But, on what he thought might be his death bed, he told me his dark secret. He knew the name of the circus, and the date the child had been sold. He wanted me to find my missing brother and bring him home.
“Thus began my grand adventure. The circus my brother had been sold to had disbanded years before. The acts had all joined other outfits. It took me several years to follow all the leads. At first, I looked down upon the people I spoke too. I’d lived a sheltered life and been convinced of my superiority to vagabond performers. Eventually, I saw their world was far richer than the comfortable cage of my own upbringing. My father lived in luxury, but had never been happy; the performers lived with hardship, but had joyous hearts.
“I joined the circus, and after I was finally accepted by my fellow performers, I learned the truth of my brother’s whereabouts. He was called Bigsby, and he’d fled to Commonground after being accused of murder. I went to the docks to find passage to the Isle of Fire. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a single coin in my pockets. I had a purse full of moons when I first left home, but as that money ran out, I discovered I could get by with charm alone. I heard rumors that your ship was in port to ferry a passenger to Commonground, but from what I knew of Wanderers, it was unlikely that mere charm would gain me passage. As fate would have it, I also heard that you needed a dryman and decided to take my chances. When we met, I knew I’d be setting sail with you. It was love at first sight.”
“Or lust,” said Gale, crossing her arms. “So, assuming I believe you, why does Bigsby think he’s the princess? Why are you peddling this absurd lie?”
“I don’t know. He suffered severe trauma when Greatshadow attacked Commonground. In his mind, the dwarf known as Bigsby is dead, and the princess has awakened to reclaim her birthright. When I called him Bigsby, he began acting crazy. I mean, crazier. Like he was going to hurt himself. He stays relatively manageable as long as I play along with his fantasy. I’m only hoping that he remembers his true identity before we return home.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“Events have their own momentum. You weren’t aboard when I brought Bigsby back to the Freewind. I wasn’t certain you’d welcome an unpaid passenger who was both a freak and insane. In retrospect, my hopes that he’d stay quiet and hidden until we made it back to the Silver Isles were perhaps naïve.”
Gale sighed, rubbing her temples. “Perhaps. I wish you’d been honest. Things might have worked out differently. As it is... the best I can do is spare your lives. I’ll put you off the ship at the next port.”
“But –”
“This is mercy, Brand. It’s more than I’d show anyone else in your circumstances.”
“So you do still have feelings for me?” he asked.
“If I do, I assure you, they are not feelings you want me to give voice to. For now, be content that you’re merely fired instead of facing sterner justice.”
“I’m more than content,” said Brand. “I’m joyous. I should never have accepted the job as your dryman.”
Gale turned to leave. “Then we’re of the same opinion.”
He spoke before her hand fell on the door handle. “Only if we both agree that there was something real between us. I should never have accepted your offer of employment, since I knew when I saw you I wanted something more. The relationship of a boss to an employee is always going to be tainted by the power one holds over the other. To woo you properly, I must approach you as an equal.”
“You aren’t my equal,” she sighed. “Despite your claims of inherited wealth, you’re a penniless vagabond, while I am a ship’s captain, responsible for my family and my business. Despite my ill turn of fortune from these accursed slave wars, I’m respected as an honest woman. I’ve fought hard to ensure that my name means something in this world. I’m not certain I believe your story, but, if it’s true, you’ve just admitted to pissing away your father’s money and amusing yourself among carnies rather that staying focused on your mission. You’re irresponsible.”
He shrugged, “Opposites attract.”
Gale closed her eyes and took a deep breathe. “I enjoyed you, Brand. It’s been ten years since Rudder passed away. Oh, there was a man.”
Brand nodded, though she couldn’t see it.
She continued, “I’ve had no time for romance since he died. I’ve had quite a few Wanderers court me – good men, good captains. But I’m too old to entangle my life with a man my age, with his own family and ship. I’m proud of the life I’ve made for myself; I’ve no interest in starting anew.”
“You deserve to be proud,” said Brand.
Gale shook her head. “I don’t deserve anything. Nothing good can come of me thinking the world owes me some reward.”
“The Gale Romer I know wouldn’t indulge herself with pity.”
Gale turned from the door to face him once more. “Pity has nothing to do with my feelings. Unlike you, I’ve experienced genuine love. Rudder was my life. Love wasn’t merely sweet whispers or shared desire. We were bonded so strongly we felt like one being. We were two halves of the same whole. You can’t know what losing him felt like.”
“I don’t pretend I can,” said Brand. “But no matter who you were then, now, you are your own woman.”
“Am I?” She crossed her arms. “My dryman at the time of Rudder’s death was a man five years my senior named Hunter. We had a completely professional relationship. He would never have violated my trust. We worked together on running this ship side by side, day after day. We were the best of friends. And then... then one night, I was a little drunk on wine, and I decided we should be more than friends.”
“You sound so guilty about it,” said Brand. “But you were both adults. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“In your eyes,” she said. “We kept our relationship secret for a time, unsure how my children would react. But, you know I enjoy... I like....” Her voice trailed off.
“A little role-playing,” said Brand.
Her cheeks flushed red. “We were in the galley. We thought all the children were above deck. Hunter had me pressed up against the pantry with my arms bound behind my back with my blouse. I was making mock protests as he explored my body. And then... and then Levi walked in.”
“Your oldest son.”
Gale nodded. “I... I know how it must have looked to Levi. But... he’d known Hunter for years. He should have trusted that Hunter was no rapist. Instead, he grabbed a butcher’s knife from the block and plunged it into Hunter’s back.”
Brand rose from the stool and looked as if he were going to hug Gale. She pressed her right hand into his chest and forced him back down.
“I lost a son that day. I was so angry with Levi that he ran off. He now serves with the Stormguard. The Stormguard! My mortal enemies!”
Brand shrugged. “But this was before the Pirate Wars started. He wasn’t betraying you then.”
Gale gave a small, bitter laugh. “Oh, Brand. Listen to me, still talking about Levi. He’s dead to me. Dead.” She gave him a stern look. “And he wasn’t the point of my story at all.”
“Then what was your point?” Brand asked.
“My point is that you are an attractive man who smells fantastic and happens to be a genius in the sack. I liked playing with you. But the only reason I’ve let you in my bed is that you aren’t my equal. You’re so obviously a toy. A trinket.”
“A treasure?” Brand offered.
“A diversion. You’re som
eone I could play with. Your presence might embarrass my children, but it didn’t threaten them. They knew I wasn’t taking you on as their new father.”
“I’m not sure Mako felt that way.”
“Mako’s young. He’s still trying to figure out how to project strength so that he can one day command his own ship. One day, he’ll figure it out. Meanwhile, the rest of the Wanderer clans might hear that I was fooling around with you, but they wouldn’t be gossiping about how families might get woven together and shipping interests merged. There are no political repercussions to bedding you. If you’d been my equal, Brand, I wouldn’t have wanted you. I could only let you touch me because you were so inconsequential.”
Brand’s shoulders sagged. “You really are an expert with your tongue, aren’t you?”
“You and the dwarf can bunk in the forecastle until we get back home. Keep out of my sight. The less I see you, the less I’ll be inclined to change my mind about you.”
“And take me back?” asked Brand.
“And keelhaul you,” she said.
With this, she turned, and left her cabin.
In the hall, she met Mako, who was closing his door behind him. Mako grinned as he gave a nod of greeting. It was obvious from his satisfied expression that he’d heard every word. Gale scowled at him. If her eyes had been daggers, Mako would have bled.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SOULS SNUFFED OUT
I FLEW BACK into my wooden body as the two Romers marched into the room. Without pausing for pleasantries, Mako grabbed Purity by the hair and pulled her head back so that she faced Gale. He tugged with such force that the front two legs of the wooden chair lifted up.
Purity’s eyes remained dull as she stared at Captain Romer, who stood before her with her hands clasped behind her back, in the same formal posture she’d used when addressing Brand. The room was lit by a single whale-oil lantern above Purity’s head. The reflected flame danced in Gale’s eyes.
“I threatened to keelhaul you in the Sea of Wine,” said Gale, in a cool, firm tone. “I may yet. However, you’ve so far had the good luck not to inflict a single substantial injury to any member of my family. We’ve killed a dozen of your minions and captured the rest. Given the pathetic nature of your menace, if you cooperate and answer our questions, I’ll spare your life.”
Purity’s unfocused eyes showed no hint of understanding.
Gale tried her speech again, switching to Skelling. The woman still didn’t react.
“She has no reason to answer us,” grumbled Mako as he let go of her hair. He came around and grabbed Purity by the chin and turned her gaze toward his. He pulled his lips back to reveal his toothy jaws. “She’ll be more cooperative if you let me chew on her a bit. Maybe her left ear should go first?”
“Stand aside,” said Sorrow, pushing Mako away. She crouched before the woman and looked deeply into her eyes. She shook her head slowly. “Something’s wrong. I’ve seen this look before.”
“Where?” said Gale.
“Among the Skellings. I told you I’ve traveled to the Isle of Grass. I barely survived my visit. Among the Skellings, women are treated as little more than cattle. There are no words in their language for romantic love. Marriage is indistinguishable from a master/slave relationship. I tried to help these women escape their oppressors, but couldn’t. They’d endured such abuse that many of these women have literally had their souls snuffed out. They become empty shells, alive on an animalistic level, but devoid of free will.”
“The other women we’ve imprisoned do seem unusually passive,” said Gale.
“They’re despondent in defeat,” said Mako. “They were active enough when they were trying to chop our heads off.”
I once more leaned against the wall and leapt from my body. All living things possess an internal light that my ghostly eyes can sense, though it’s often so faint that I don’t notice it in good lighting. Here in the dimly-lit hold, everyone in the room possessed a spiritual aura save for our captive. Her body gave little more light than the chair she was tied to. Her aura was a faint, flickering indigo.
I flashed back into my wooden body just in time to catch it before it toppled over.
“I can verify this woman has no soul,” I said.
“How can you know that?” asked Mako.
“My eyes are different from yours.” I didn’t want to hint to Sorrow that I could escape her cage at will.
“Soul or no soul, if she’s wilful enough to attack our ship, she’s wilful enough to avoid pain,” said Mako, gnashing his teeth. “She will answer our questions.”
Infidel interrupted. “Hey, what happened to her sword? I grabbed it off the deck earlier.”
“We secured it while you were unconscious,” said Mako.
“Bring it here,” she said.
“You’ve no rightful claim to it,” said Gale. “It was used in an unjust assault on this ship. By the code of the Wanderers, the sword is mine.”
Infidel closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m not trying to take the damn sword. I’ve got a hunch. I’m the only person on this ship who regularly fights using a weapon crafted from the body of a primal dragon. When I use it, I feel... it’s tough to describe, but it’s like an energy flows into me. I can feel it all the way to my toes. And it’s not just a physical thing. For lack of a better description, I feel it spiritually as well.”
“What’s your point?” asked Mako.
“Since the Ice-Moon Blade is part of Hush, what if it does something similar? What if... I don’t know... it empowers Purity?”
Gale nodded to Mako. “It’s worth a shot. Bring it.”
Mako left, muttering, his eyes narrowed. He returned moments later with the blade in his hand.
“I feel nothing when I hold the blade,” he said, though his breath came out in a fog.
“You have a strong soul,” I said. “Maybe its effects can only be felt by the weak.”
“Careful,” said Sorrow, taking the blade after coating her hands with silver to insulate herself. She knelt and placed the blade on the first band of negation. Nothing happened. Methodically, she moved the blade closer. The final band was only three inches from the captured woman’s foot. As the barest edge of the blade crossed this threshold, frost suddenly painted the walls of the room.
The bound woman inhaled deeply, lifting her sagging head. Her irises, dark brown moments before, were now pale blue. She chuckled softly as her eyes fixed on Infidel.
“Ivory Blade,” she said, smirking. “I never doubted you were on board.”
Infidel stepped closer to Gale, so that Purity could better see her.
“People call me Infidel, not Ivory. If you really want to talk to Ivory, you’re going to need a necromancer.”
Purity pressed her lips tightly together, looking confused and disappointed.
“Why did you want Ivory Blade?” asked Gale.
“He stole the Jagged Heart from us! We cannot rest until it is recovered.”
“The Jagged Heart didn’t belong to you,” said Infidel. “It belonged to the ice-ogres.”
“It belonged to Hush,” said Purity. “I am her final prophet.”
“Hush is a dragon, not a god,” said Gale. “What use has she for prophets?”
“Hush isn’t a god,” said Purity. “She’s the god. She’s the great unifier, the secret truth beneath all of creation. She is eternal silence and eternal peace. It’s my sacred duty to usher in her final reign.”
“The ogres worship Hush as a goddess as well,” said Infidel. “I was friends with the priestess you stole the Jagged Heart from. If you both worship the same god, why couldn’t you just have asked politely to use the harpoon?”
“The ogres are unworthy, impure beings,” said Purity, wrinkling her nose. “I tolerate them merely as pawns. They know nothing of Hush’s true peace.”
Gale shook her head. “If you value peace, why attack my ship unprovoked?”
“If you’d turned Ivory Blade over to us, no on
e would have been harmed.”
“You do see the underlying flaw in that argument?” asked Infidel.
“I have only your word that Blade’s dead,” said Purity. “Assuming it’s true, I would also assume that you are now my most likely lead to reclaiming the Jagged Heart.”
Gale and Sorrow remained poker-faced. Infidel looked like she was about to say something, then didn’t. She frowned slightly. If we’d been playing cards, this would be the moment I went all in.
Apparently I wasn’t the only one good at reading her expressions.
“It’s here?” Purity asked, as passion returned to her voice. She sat fully upright in the chair. “The Jagged Heart is aboard this ship?”
“No,” said Infidel. “I don’t know where it is. Blade was already dead when I took his armor.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” said Purity.
“And you’re tied to a chair while your followers are confined by manacles,” said Gale. “Infidel isn’t the one being questioned here. You are.”
“Ask what you wish,” said Purity. “Only the guilty have anything to hide.”
“First, who are you really?” asked Sorrow. “Why does everyone call you Purity? Purity was an ancient witch, but I found her grave. She died ages ago.”
“Ancient?” Purity chuckled. “Do I look ancient to you?”
Sorrow shook her head. “No. You’re what? Thirty-five? Forty? And, if you were the real Purity, you wouldn’t have needed the sword to do your ice magic. You’d have the power embedded in your skull. But I’ve felt your scalp. There’s not a single nail in it.”
The bound woman laughed.
“What so funny?” asked Sorrow.
“You and your ridiculous scalp, studded with nails. You truly believe these to be the source of your power?”
“I’ve empirical evidence that they work, yes.”
“You know nothing of true magic,” said Purity.
“Enlighten me,” said Sorrow.
“True magic is passion. True magic is hatred and anger and the thirst for revenge. This is the power that binds me to this world two centuries after my first death.”
