The Pirates of Moonlit Bay

by Samaire Provost

  Kym blushed.

  “Actually,” said Christianne, her expression sober. “Chimeras are quite rare. If anyone knew Kym’s true form, they’d be quite eager to steal her and sell her at the market, or to one of the sheikhs.”

  I looked at Kym silently, digesting this. Christianne was right. Kym had made short work of Malík, but the guards had all been sleeping off their drunkenness, and she’d had the element of surprise on her side. If the sheikh’s men had known what she was, they would’ve been sure to leave her heavily guarded. Not even her chimera form would be a match for a full continent of armed soldiers.

  I grabbed Kym in a bear hug. “Tell me what you discovered, Kym” I said, kissing the top of her head.

  Kym looked quite pleased with herself. “First of all,” she said, looking over at Christianne, “I did not change into my natural form. I was able to search the area, and I did not see anything. I searched all the way to Kadeem’s camp. They seemed fast asleep, too.” Looking at her, I could see how she could move nearly unseen. Her coal-black skin was very nearly invisible in the night, and her clothing was dark brown. No wonder. I smiled.

  I look up at the sky. “It’s still very early. Let’s get out of here. Whatever bespelled us is hopefully gone, but I want to put miles between us and this place.”

  I thought for a moment, then took the warestone from my pocket, and crouched, and buried it deep in the sand. Brushing my hands off as I got to my feet, I felt satisfied.

  We were packed and mounted and silently on our way in a few minutes.

  We trotted the horses and Kym’s pony kept up so well that we made excellent time. The sun had barely risen over the horizon when we got to the well Khepri had mentioned earlier. After drinking deeply and watering the horses, we refilled our waterskins and were on our way again. We covered ground easily with the desert horses, who were very used to the sandy terrain. Trotting ate up the miles.

  I stopped just after midday to confirm our direction.

  “We’ve ridden quite a way: nearly 50 miles so far,” Khepri squinted at the horizon.

  “How far can the horses go in a day?” I asked.

  Khepri smiled. “These horses can travel several hundred miles in a day, if pressed. They’ve been bred for extreme endurance, and they also have a magical fortitude bred into them.”

  “Our horses in the northlands cannot run that long, but they can easily survive in the snowy climes we have,” I said. “I guess it depends on where an animal hails from, what their abilities are.”

  I idly wondered if we humans had many magical abilities. The sound of Tupu’s voice brought me back to the present.

  “Maybe another 60 miles to the Tambibo market,” Tupu said, looking to the northeastern horizon.

  I looked at her. “Will you return to your village?” I asked, curious. Tupu had been a great asset to us since we’d left the Abdü compound.

  Tupu look thoughtful. “I’m not sure. My cousins are still at the sheikh’s compound. My grandmother will kill me if I return without Tikiko and Pala.”

  I nodded in understanding, then turned to Khepri. “How far is the Mare Internum from Tambibo Market?”

  “Moonlit Bay is just over the ridge from the market. The ships dock there, and merchants bring their wares down a road to the market, It’s maybe a mile or less.”

  Hmmm.

  We continued on, eager to arrive at the market. I wanted to get word to my parents that Caroline and I were safe, and that we might be able to get home before the worst of the rains. Traveling north was a wet business during the summer months. Most of the distance could be covered by ship, but there was a two-day journey by horseback through the Catrana mountains that I’d always hated. No matter how I would try to keep dry, I always arrived with a wet head and muddy, shivering feet. Ugh.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Bandits

  Khepri sidled up to me as we rode.

  “Charlotte, I was talking with Kym, and she was telling me about what she found when she went scouting.”

  I felt my eyebrows lift.

  “I think I know what bespelled our camp,” she continued. “I think we were camped near a nest of Naga. The babies emit an electric signal suggesting sleepiness, especially while the mother is away. It’s a defense mechanism to protect the newborn Nagas. The parent always leaves the nest for eight days, to hunt. The young are buried about fifteen to twenty feet down into the sand. I’ve been thinking about Kadeem’s camp being under the spell, too. I think that hill between our two camps was the nest mound of the Naga neolates.”

  “Whoa. That’s intense.” I thought for a moment. “What do the Nagas eat?”

  I wondered if we’d been in danger from the nestlings.

  “The adult Nagas consume moonlight as their primary food,” Khepri said.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Not kidding,” Khepri smiled.

  “But I was told that Nagas are a dangerous foe. My tutors taught me about every magical creature known to science.”

  “Nagas are indeed very dangerous, they fight to the death, which is why we were especially lucky to cross their range while they were away. Although we’d have been warned off by the adults’ fierce hissing long before we would’ve encountered them.”

  “Huh. Baby Nagas. They almost sound cute.” I turned my head so Khepri could see my wide smile.

  “They are definitely NOT cute,” Khepri said firmly. I laughed out loud.

  We rode at a trot until sundown, then made camp as the horizon gleamed a fiery orange. My sides hurt from the all-day motion, but the horses seemed none the worse for the miles we’d covered. I’d never traveled so far on horseback in a day.

  I would have stopped sooner, but Khepri and Tupu assured me the horses could go the whole day, and they were right.

  That night, as we gathered around the small, smokeless fire we’d built, we talked.

  “I think we rode a good 90 miles today,” Tupu offered.

  “No wonder my body hurts,” Caroline groaned.

  I agreed with her: Everything was sore.

  “Tupu, why’d you say ‘we are in grave danger’ last night during the bespellment?”

  Tupu chewed on a skewer of dried meat she’d toasted over the fire. “Oh, well, I knew it was a Naga nest. My uncle was caught in one once. Unfortunately, he was out alone, hunting, just ten miles outside his farm, when he was caught.”

  I waited while she drank deeply from her flask of water.

  She continued eating.

  “Well? What happened?” I finally asked.

  Kym and Christianne leaned forward, and I could see Caroline was riveted as well.

  “Oh, well, we found his empty torso. The baby Nagas ate his innards and his brain.”

  WHAT??!

  Khepri chuckled. “I told you the adults consumed moonlight. The babies eat anything they come across, especially organ meats.”

  Lord almighty…

  Tupu chimed in, “Oh, yes, definitely. In fact, the younger, the more newly hatched Naga babies are the deadliest. And they move like lightning.”

  “Khepri,” I asked. “I thought you said the Naga nest is buried deep in the sand.”

  “I said fifteen to twenty feet. That is deep to us, but not to the Nagas. The young move especially easily through the sand. Like little rock toads.”

  “Rock toads move faster than a running human,” I said.

  “Mmmm, yes,” Tupu said. “Very fast. We were in quite a bit of danger. It is a good thing we got out of there.”

  Kym spoke then, “Charlotte, do you think the baby Nagas ate Kadeem’s men?”

  Oh, gods …

  “I hope not, sweetheart. Kadeem might have been nosey as hell, but he never threatened us. I wouldn’t ever wish death upon him or his men,” I said.

  “Especially the death from baby Nagas,” said Khepri.

  “Exactly how big are these creatures?” Caroline asked.

  Tupu held her arms out, her palms facin
g in. “The newborns are about this long, and they grow slowly. I believe they take a year to grow to adult size.”

  Khepri swung her sword in an arc. “The adults are twice the size of a horse, and move very fast. Faster than the young.”

  “I hope we never see a Naga,” said Christianne.

  “I hope we never see a Naga nest, they seem worse,” said Caroline.

  “How many babies are in a Naga nest, Tupu?” asked Kym.

  “About thirty or so,” Tupu answered.

  “Good lord, we were in danger,” I said.

  Khepri chuckled.

  “Yes,” Tupu said. “We were.”

  I finally fell asleep, after taking first watch for a few hours. Khepri relieved me at about two am. I slept heavily until just before dawn, when I was awakened with a start.

  “Am I ever going to get a full night’s sleep?” I mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  “What’s going on?” Kym asked beside me.

  “Oh, oh, no! Miss!” Caroline exclaimed.

  “I see them, Carrie,” I said quietly.

  Bandits.

  The predawn sky was just starting to glow a golden-pink, and the bandits showed as black silhouettes against the sky. I counted eighteen of them, and they were silent as ghosts, but surrounded us, weapons drawn. The leader kicked sand into our faces to wake us.

  “Oh, stop it, for god’s sake,” I yelled grouchily. I’d been having a good, deep sleep, needed rest, and I was not happy at this intrusion.

  I did not know why, but these bandits did not scare me.

  They should have.

  The leader screamed a long string of syllables in an Arabic dialect I did not recognize, and brandished his scimitar at us, scowling dangerously.

  “Oh, no.” Khepri looked worried.

  “What?” I asked. I was in such a foul mood, I felt like I could strike them interlopers down where they stood, with my mood alone.

  “Charlotte, they are threatening to kill us if we don’t stand and come with them,” Tupu said quietly, not taking her eyes off the bandits.

  Oh, fineeeeee …

  I stood and faced the filthy men, who looked worse than savages. Their scimitars are sharpened and gleaming, though, I thought. Something to pay attention to.

  They poked and prodded us with their swords and lined us up, they began rifling through our bags.

  I nodded to Caroline, then leapt at the man standing closest to me.

  “ARRGGG!!” I cried as I jumped on him, my momentum taking us both to the ground. The knife I’d drawn from my boot was sharp, and I felt joy when I stuck it in his side.

  He screamed, blood appearing on his lips.

  The leader, who’d been the first at scavenging our belongings, whipped around, and cried out a name.

  “Uh oh,” Tupu said as she fought the man she’d jumped on. “That’s his brother.”

  “Good,” I said, viciously. I twisted the blade in the body before withdrawing it, and was rewarded with a last gurgling cry before he went silent.

  The leader was at me in a second, along with two others, and I found myself brandishing my knife at the three as we circled each other. They began to close in.

  “Charlotte!” Kym cried, running toward me.

  “Kym, NO!” I could see the edges of her outline shimmering in the growing predawn light. She was transforming.

  Kym jumped at us, and mid-air, transformed into her Chimera form. She landed in the middle of the circle we were slowly moving around, and the three men sprang back, surprised. Two of the men began to speak rapidly to each other, gesticulating animatedly.

  Kym growled menacingly.

  Tupu said, quietly, into my ear. “Kill them. They were sent here to kidnap you, and they’re now planning to also kidnap Kym.” She sliced her scimitar in a long swipe, and her opponent fell heavily to the ground. “We’ve got to kill them all, now. Every last one,” she said before swinging around to another bandit.

  Kym roared into the sky, having overheard what Tupu had said. She brought a massive lion paw down and around and all three men who’d been circling me fell to the ground, two with their heads hanging by a thread.

  I looked up at the chimera and gave her a thumbs-up, then spoke quietly, “Now change back, hurry!”

  Kym shimmered once more, and the chimera disappeared. In the place of the massive beast stood a small six-year-old little girl. Her eyes looked angry.

  “Kym, do not do that again,” I whispered hurriedly, glancing about. From the looks the other bandits were throwing our way, they had all seen.

  Well, what can you expect? She’s a very noticeably large beast, there’s no hiding that. And the roar… it was… LOUD.

  We turned to the others, there were nine left, so we were still outnumbered.

  Oh, gods … we don’t have time for this…

  I felt so angry at these common thieves, bothering us as we slept. I guess I was still feeling grouchy at being awakened.

  No, I thought, it’s more than that. I did not appreciate all the trouble we seemed to be running into in our escape. It’s almost as if we’re being targeted, I thought.

  Mentally shrugging, I let out a savage scream and leapt toward the two bandits who were both attacking Caroline.

  “EEEYAAH!” I brought my scimitar I held in my left hand down sharply, and sliced the man on the left from neck to nuts. He screamed and fell, writhing in agony.

  As I landed that blow, I also brought my right hand forward with my boot dagger, burying it deeply between the ribs of the man on the right. I quickly withdrew it, slick blood running down my wrist.

  “Oh, yuck,” I mumbled, and quickly stuck the sharp blade into the sand beside me, then out again. Must remember to use the whetstone on that blade.

  What was I thinking? I sharpened my blades every night.

  Smiling, I swung around and chopped sideways at a bandit who was threatening Christianne.

  “Hey, that was mine!” called Christianne, laughing. I grinned.

  We had routed every last man in the next few minutes.

  “We’re getting better at this, I think,” I said cheerily, kicking at a still form on the ground.

  “I think we are,” Khepri agreed.

  “Okay, ladies, let’s move out,” I said, wiping my blade off. Fighting bandits was messy business. I looked at my scimitar blade, checking it for nicks. Might have to get a new one at the market, I thought. Maybe something made from better steel.

  “If we hurry, we can be in Tambibo by midday,” Tupu said, excited.

  “Listen, I think we’re in need of better weapons,” Caroline said.

  “You read my mind,” said Christianne.

  “I’d like several new blades,” I said.

  “How are we going to pay for it all, though?” Khepri asked.

  Hmmm.

  I could not answer that. Back home, I was in possession of artwork and jewelry that might have been traded for a small fortune here. There were pieces of my wardrobe that would have fetched an outstanding price: enough to purchase all that we’d need.

  Looking down at the dust-ridden pants and blouse I wore, I put my finger through a particularly ragged hole I’d acquired during the last fight. I looked up again, wishing I had answers.

  Khepri spoke up, “we could earn money by trading healing gifts, and Kym has second site; I know tarot readers who make a tidy profit from such gifts.”

  “There is no need to worry about that,” Tupu said, holding up a small sack. “I lifted this off Malík’s corpse before we left.” She dipped a finger inside and pulled out a gold coin. My eyes widened. The small sack bulged with its contents. She was right, there wasn’t any need to worry. I smiled at her, and she winked back at me, tucking the coin purse back into her belt.

  We rode on, all of us lost in thought.

  After several hours of dusty riding, we approached Tambibo. We could smell the sea and Moonlit Bay from over the hill. We met several other caravans, all larger than
our own, all traveling to the marketplace. This was a central meeting area, and everyone we met on the road was in high spirits, laughing and excited at the prospect of both selling their wares, and discovering what treasures they might find.

  “Many from the outlying farms make the trip to Tambibo several times a year,” Tupu was saying. “Some who live in settlements farther out come only yearly. It is said that you can find nearly any exotic treasure at the marketplace. Ships come from as far as Jambudvipa and beyond to dock at Moonlit Bay and sell their wares at Tambibo.”

  “I’ve been there exactly four times,” Khepri said. “The first time, I was a young girl, about 10, accompanying my uncle and his family. This was before he became sheikh. I remember seeing a magician who could blow fire into the sky from his hand, and a giant bird emerged from the splash of flame. It had blue and red feathers, and it flew up into the sky and off across the ocean, and set the sky on fire.”

  “The second time, I was fourteen and with my mother and brothers. We’d been sent because my uncle, who by this time had become sheikh, had heard of a fabled animal that was so fantastic, he just had to have it. This was the trip where my youngest brother was crippled. You see, the animal uncle wanted so bad? Was a shadhavar, a kind of unicorn.”

  At this, Tupu groaned.

  Kym listened raptly; her eyes wide.

  Khepri continued her tale.

  “Shadhavars are notoriously violent and refuse the touch of most men. My brother was an arrogant fool, and thought that all he had to do was hand over the gold to the merchant, and the animal would be his. Little did he know.”

  “He arranged to have the shadhavar delivered to our camp outside the city, and at nightfall, the beast was delivered. It rode in a heavily fortified wagon made of strong wood reinforced with iron banding. The beast had been sedated for the transport and was groggy. We were told he’d been given three times the dose that would normally put a bull elephant into a weeklong sleep, but this thing was only drowsy.”

  “We should have known it was not a normal creature. Well, long story short, my brothers all celebrated the acquisition of the shadhavar by building an enormous fire, roasting a massive pig, and drinking themselves into a stupor while dancing around the pyre. The beast slowly came out of its drowsy state and became agitated by the fire, which by that time had reached twenty feet into the night sky.”