“Must we always practice so far away from camp?” I asked, panting slightly after my run with Obsidarian.
“Piratess, part of being lethal is being in shape; I’m simply putting two workouts into one,” he answered imperiously.
“What is the second workout?”
In answer he tugged a small pouch from his belt, opening it slowly. Inside were the chocolates I had stolen from Tithe; the ones with mint inside.
“There’s mint inside,” Obsidarian explained. “If any person with magic consumes mint it amplifies their power, Captain Mají-jalio and I were hoping that this could help you focus your power. Nothing would be better than to make you live up to that new title of yours Flame. This should give you an edge; help us see what you are capable of.”
He held the little pouch out to me, but I hesitated. I remembered Briamy’s warning from the conclave, about the magic controlling the person who possesses it.
“Is it safe?” I asked.
Obsidarian nodded enthusiastically, “This isn’t a potent form, and whoever you stole it from already diluted it for us. This should only be enough to make you crave more. It’s a test.”
I took the chocolate, savoring its cool sweet taste as energy flooded my body. I felt alive. I reached out to take a second piece, but Obsidarian snatched the bag out of my reach.
“Not yet Piratess, I want you to make me a fire. Put your weapons on the ground.”
I dropped everything and gathered a small pile from the brush around me. I held my palm over the pile and closed my eyes, feeling the energy within me.
“Fire,” I whispered.
The pile at my feet burst into flames. Obsidarian yelped and jumped backward a few feet. I watched the fire, watched it dance as it consumed the small pile before going out. When it was nothing more than a pile of smoldering ashes I held my hand out to Obsidarian, and he dropped a chocolate into it. I stuffed it into my mouth and grinned at him.
“You always underestimate me.”
Obsidarian laughed and yelled into the surrounding forest. “You can come out now!”
Xament stood from a bush and walked into our little clearing, staring at the ashes between my feet. “Do I have to do this?” he asked.
“You will if you want your name to go down in history,” Obsidarian warned. “How many people will get to say they played a part in training Gittoran Flame?”
“I know,” Xament sighed. “It’s just… I didn’t realize there was a chance I may die.”
“I won’t kill you,” I assured him. “It would be like killing the family pet. Cruel, unnecessary, and far too much cleanup; I would be covered in colored dust all day!”
Xament looked worried, but then saw the smile hovering on Obsidarian’s face. “Was she joking?” he asked Obsidarian.
Obsidarian burst into laughter, doubling over as he nodded his head. I walked over to him, trying to help him stand. As I reached out I moved my hand toward his belt and he smacked me away, suddenly serious.
“That’s not going to work on me Flame. You cannot pickpocket me.”
“Can’t I?” I asked, holding out the pouch I already held in my hand.
He snatched it out of my hand, trying to scowl at me. “Can you pay attention to me instead of the chocolate? I want you to set a fire in your hand, one that will not burn you.”
“Consider it done,” I said.
It was easier this time. I closed my eyes for only a moment before the ball of flame sprang into my palm. I opened my eyes and smiled at the little ball of flame. It was warm to my touch, playing along my hands. I tossed it from one hand to the other.
“Catch!” I cried, tossing the ball to Xament. He caught it reflexively, surprised when it did not burn him.
I smiled at him, “Told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”
I held out my hand to Obsidarian, waiting for my chocolate, but he held back. “That was too easy,” he said.
“What next then?” I challenged. “Light up a tree?”
The nearest tree caught fire, sending great plumes of smoke before collapsing in a pile of fine ash.
“Or maybe you want something less destructive,” I mused. “A rope that will not burn? Or would you rather see me walk upon fire as if it were solid ground?”
Within seconds Xament was attached to fiery puppet strings. I moved my fingers expectantly and he dropped into an elegant bow.
“Dress him in something finer and he could be back in Effugere,” I laughed. I flicked my wrist and the strings vanished. I focused on the ground at my feet. A small square of fire appeared. I stepped onto it, and my foot fell through to the earth. I stopped laughing.
I closed my eyes and focused again, feeling for the magic, bending it to my will. I held out my hand and glared at the patch of fire. I bent my knees and leapt onto the fire. I stood on it, a foot above the ground, as if the fire were solid. I grinned and looked to Obsidarian.
“Can I have the mint now? I need it,” I said.
Still he shook his head, edging away from me. “You have had enough for a day. Clearly you have an unprecedented amount of power for any common pirate. You are Flame. We need to work on something else.”
“But I enjoy this,” I protested. “Can’t I have one more?”
“No,” he said obstinately. “It is too much. You are supposed to be keeping a low profile. We are going to work with your new dagger instead.”
“My dagger?” I asked.
“No, the stiletto blade Captain Mají-jalio gave you, the enchanted one,” he retorted. “Do you even remember what that is? Or does the mint have such a hold that you know nothing but your fire?”
I pulled the stiletto from my sash, and pointed it at Obsidarian. “You cheat me, you said I would get another piece.”
“FINE!” he yelled. “We will do this your way. We will go to the Captain Storm’s camp. You will go in, steal three things from different places, and bring them to me. You will not be seen. No one should know you were even there. Do all of this, and then we will talk of mint chocolates and rewards.”
Obsidarian turned to Xament, but I didn’t catch what was said, I was running though the forest. I got turned around once or twice, but eventually I was crouched beside the moat at Captain Tempest Storm’s camp. I could hear the bustle of pirates inside. The effects of the mint were slowly starting to wear off. I could think clearly after my run. It was a craving now, a want, but no longer a driving need.
I waited until dusk, and then slipped soundlessly under the wall and into the camp. A bonfire had been build up near the front doors, the flickering shadows slid along the walls. The men laughed and stomped their feet. I watched from my place in the shadows as they fought and performed tricks with their weapons, playing without a care in the world. Only one man did not laugh with the rest. I could see Captain Tempest Storm seated on a log near the edge of the group, his hat pulled down to try to obscure the left side of his face. His left hand had the touches of new pink skin, stretched taut over his frame.
His burns were still bothering him. I smiled to myself; it would be his eternal reminder of the girl he threw out of his camp. I left my place near the water and dashed to the nearest building. Edging around, I was able to press myself against the wall and remain unseen to the men at the fire. I found a door to the building, and trying the latch, it was unlocked.
The building was a bunkhouse, with rows of neat bunks lining the walls. Each pirate had a chest and a bunk. Each chest was locked. I drew my stiletto and placed its tip to the first chest, it sprang open. The contents were unimpressive, clothing, boots, a few daggers, and a shark’s tooth on a string. I took the tooth. When I shut the lid, I heard the faintest click from the chest.
I reached to pull on the lid, it was locked again. I left the building and wandered into another, this was a galley. I took the biggest copper pot I could find. That would cause some confusion when the next meal arrived. I needed one more item.
My vision landed on the blue door that marked Captain Tempest Storm’s building. I smiled in the shadows and darted across the yard, slipping inside the building without making a sound. I walked down the hallway until I faced the door to his office, the door with the grey and gold stripe. This door was locked, but only until my stiletto touched the handle. The office had not changed since my first day in the game. It still had the feel of a messy teenage office, wooden desk, wooden chair, wooden crate with bandanas, trophies. I picked up the chair and flipped it upside down, examining its structure. It was built well for a wooden piece, with little pegs holding the frame together.
I rapped the hilt of my stiletto against the little pegs and they moved a bit. I rapped against them again and again until I held four of them in my hand. I pressed on the seat of my chair and it moved by an inch. I pressed from the bottom and it slid back into place. Smiling, I left the room, once more hearing the click of the lock as it closed behind me. Slipping out the door and into the moat, no one saw me.
Obsidarian was waiting in the shadow of the wall outside. “What did you take?” he asked.
I showed him the random objects, he nodded approvingly. “These would certainly create some mayhem if missed,” he agreed. “I will give you what we agreed on.”
“NO!” cried out a new voice. Obsidarian was tackled to the ground. Both men came up with rapiers drawn, but Obsidarian put his away instantly.
“I’m sorry Captain,” he said.
“And you should be,” Mají-jalio snarled. “Both of you come with me, now.”
We followed him a few hundred yards away until he stopped and turned to begin yelling at Obsidarian again.
“I said work WITH her. TRAIN her, I said. I wanted you to teach her, to use what I gave you to amplify her abilities, to keep her in check when you needed to. I said keep a LOW profile! But what do you do when I let you out in the woods?”
“We were training Captain,” Obsidarian said softly. “I was testing to see how much ability she has, and Captain you wouldn’t believe...”
“SHUT UP!” Mají-jalio roared. “Do you have any idea what could have happened? With two pieces alone she could have lost control, it was a miracle that you and Xament are not dead. Especially you Obsidarian, withholding those chocolates from her when she demanded them. A quarter of a piece would have sufficed; ONE piece. Yet you gave her far too much for any person. Then you sent her off into another camp? It’s a wonder she did not burn the place to the ground. She could have been killed, caught, manipulated or maimed. She could have been found out Obsidarian, and then every captain out there would be screaming for her head!”
“But sir her power…”Obsidarian said, trying to speak.
“I DON’T CARE!” Mají-jalio yelled. “I trusted you to keep her SAFE. And all you care about is her power. Push her farther, push her faster, and bring her out in the woods where you think I cannot see you. You told Xament not to tell me what happened, how she stood on fire as if it were the earth beneath our feet. What other secrets are you keeping from me Obsidarian? How much has she been told? What else have you sacrificed in the name of placing your own name in the history books?”
“I...”
“No, stop trying to act noble Obsidarian. You are a pirate. Everything you do is for yourself, you are still selfish, even when you try to act like this girl’s friend. I know how you see her, your one way ticket to success. You call her “Flame” already don’t you? When I specifically asked you to downplay that, to remind her that she does have a name. She is not a tool, not someone to use. Seeing as you cannot seem to remember that, even when instructed to…”
Captain Mají-jalio turned to me and I stiffened, expecting him to continue his tirade. Instead he reached out and softly ran his hand along my face, his eyes soft and concerned in the moon’s light.
“Gittoran I will be taking over your training for a while, whenever I can. You may still have to work with Obsidarian on occasion, but he will be clearing everything with me. You will not be given drugs like that again,” he said quietly.
I nodded mutely, unable to speak before Mají-jalio filled the silence again.
“Gittoran we cannot have other camps learning of your abilities. I want you to go back inside the camp and replace everything you have taken. They should be asleep by now, and it should not be a challenge. I need to speak to Obsidarian for a while longer. May the Griffon guide you.”
I did not protest. I wanted to hear the conversation, but my Captain’s wrath was not worth it. I ran back to the camp and dove beneath the walls once more, retracing my steps. The pot went back to the galley, the wooden pegs into Captain Storm’s chair. I went to the bunkhouse last, slipping into the dark room to return the shark’s tooth necklace. I paused before I left, taking a moment to examine the men in the crew. They looked less fearsome as they slept. They were… ordinary, the kind of guys that could have sat next to me in a history class, or tried to hit me with a dodge ball during gym. Some of them looked to be as young as thirteen; others were fully grown men, nearing their twenties.
I paced among the bunks, sitting beside one along the far wall. I sat and watched the man on the bunk as he slept, his sandy blonde hair tousled in sleep. I could recognize the face anywhere, even with the blue bandana and resilient coat of grime. It was Red, the guy who had held a knife to my throat before we even came to Effugere. But in sleep, he made me think of all the times we had shared, of the nights he had stayed with me while I was sick, sneaking back home from school to take care of me while our mother worked. She had always been busy, had always tried so hard… but she expected so much of everyone. Max had been there, to remind her of my age, to send me out to play in the sunshine during the summer and drag me up the stairs at bedtime.
In the moonlight I could see a hoop gleaming in Red’s ear, a wide golden hoop with a ruby set into it. It made him look comical, like a child playing dress-up for the first time. I tugged it gently from his ear, making him look more like the brother I had grown up with.
“I miss you,” I whispered.
“Four nights ‘till the conclave boys,” he murmured. “All hands to the walls, raiders to Cap’n Jalio’s camp…”
I stood suddenly, scowling at the man who had spoken of raiding my camp. The man who could never be my brother again.
“Good-bye,” I whispered. I slipped the hoop into my own ear, and left the bunkhouse without a backward glance.