I had to be wrong. It was someone else… or I was hallucinating. Yet I could feel her hands on my face. I reached up. I could touch them. They pulled away when I didn’t answer the question.
I jumped to my feet, stumbling slightly as I whirled to face her. She was a vision in violet, with jangling golden bangles around her wrists and hoops through her ears. Eyes of molten amber sparkled through her glittering gold face mask… all exactly as before.
“Bliss?”
She beamed at me and nodded, laughing softly as she watched me weave my way through the clutter of furniture to meet her.
“Long time, no see.”
I laughed, feeling the weight of the past months melt away as I threw my arms around her. She was ok. Briamy was ok. She had re-joined the game, and would be free to join my crew. I could make her co-first mate with Obsidarian, or even replace him. He would be annoyed, but would understand. She was my best friend; and I was never losing her again.
“How?” I finally said, pulling away. “How are you here?”
“It’s the Conclave Saldré, we don’t exactly have a choice.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about. Tell me everything.”
There was a muffled bang from the main room, followed by the roar of the guys entering the Conclave as the music started. Bliss looked toward the door that separated us from the stage, motioning for me to follow her.
“They’re here. Vidan will want us to line up in a moment, might as well do it now.”
“Screw Vidan,” I retorted. “We can go last, or skip the whole thing. It’ll be fun, running around the city while everyone else drinks themselves into oblivion.”
Bliss rolled her eyes and shook her head, leaving me to get a place near the front of the line.
“I knew she’d make you happy,” a low voice said.
Vidan stepped up from behind me to stand shoulder to shoulder with me… or shoulder to triceps, seeing as the mole wasn’t a tall man.
“You haven’t been properly happy in ages,” he continued. “I thought she’d be just the thing to fix the problem, put a little spark back in those eyes before hitting the stage tonight. You’ve been drab since Briamy died; all work, ordering your crew about while you worried about what other pirates thought of you… Word in the street was that you lost your fire powers. You even forgot to be mean to me when you showed up; didn’t call me a single name.”
“You knew,” I snarled softly. “You knew Briamy was alive this whole time and never told me? I should rip your throat out. It’s not like you use it for anything useful. And my fire? I’m not out in that Conclave yet Vidan. I take this mask off and the Griffon will need a new owl-eyed dwarf to hide in the Compound.”
I reached for the strings of my mask, but Vidan waved his hand first. I stopped the motion, letting my arms drift back down to my sides under Vidan’s magic.
“That girl is a gift,” Vidan said, anger beginning to seep through his cool. “If you weren’t so hard-headed you would see that. It’s a different girl wearing that mask, one eager to play her part. Do us all a favor and remember to play yours.”
He walked away, motioning toward me with enough magic to force me to follow him. I edged into a place in line among the other returning performers. Vidan began to speak to the others, undoubtedly explaining how the Conclave would work. I tuned him out, lost as I stared up to the front of the line at Bliss.
She turned and winked back at me, and that’s when I saw the difference: molten amber.
Briamy was a happy girl, but she was sweet and a little quiet. She was cool in the Conclave, with a soft smile and softer voice. This Bliss, she was a little louder, a little stronger, with a passion in her eyes like I had never seen in Briamy’s.
This… imposter; she was supposed to make me happy?
I edged out of line and stood near the doorway as Vidan made his announcements to the men in the main room. As with last year, Bliss took the stage first, heels clacking against the polished wood.
“Men,” Vidan said. “This is Bliss. Does her handler from last year wish to claim her? Same price for the same girl.”
“Aye,” Vinyé called from the base of the stage. “She’s well worth it.”
Vinyé vaulted up onto the stage and grinned at Bliss, dropping a bag of coins in Vinyé’s hands almost absentmindedly.
“1350,” he said. “Same as last year; and for it this Bliss is mine. I’d like to give her the same sign as well, it suits her perfectly.”
The pirate captain pulled an amethyst necklace from his pocket, and fastened the clasp around her neck. Linking her arm through his, Bliss was escorted off the stage.
I couldn’t believe it. Her handler couldn’t tell the difference? Vinyé was a decent sort of guy, for a pirate of course. He had all of the ambition and cutthroat instinct to run his crew, not to mention pulling the trick against me with Flint, but he didn’t seem cold. I had hoped that he… cared? I was hoping he would know somehow… that he had gotten a sense of the girl behind the mask. But the replacement seemed good enough for him.
Five other returners went then, with two others picked up by their former handlers. When Ivi was led off the stage by Tempest Storm, I realized I was standing in the doorway. One of the other girls nudged me forward. My steps were noiseless, but the cheers were deafening. I wanted to retreat back stage. I wasn’t ready for this, not yet, but my pride kept me in place. I’d rather remain of my own free will then have Vidan magic me to the spot in the center of the stage.
“Does her handler from last year wish to claim this girl?” Vidan called.
“Mají’s dead Vidan. You know that!” Obsidarian called back.
“Yea!” another guy laughed. “That Flame chick did us all a favor. His crew’s broken. They’re letting in girls now, and first years. Not only that, but we’ll all get another shot at this one!”
“Would you like to open with your offer?” Vidan asked.
“700” the guy said.
The men around him laughed. It was a low price.
“Are you blind?” another pirate called. “Or already drunk? 1000 even is a proper opener for her. She’s a former nameless after all, we all know she’s worth it.”
“We went over this last year,” Obsidarian called. “Mají put up 2000 for her last year. I’d be willing to match that.”
“Saldré was worth 2200 last year,” Vidan corrected. “It’d be an insult to his memory to undercut that.”
“Then double it,” a new voice called. “4400 for Saldré.”
Hundreds of pirates fell silent for a full five seconds. The owner of the voice began to push through the crowd, as the muttering rose from the crowd like the buzz of angry hornets. It was understandable. At the time, most pirates had considered anything over 2000 an outrageous price for a girl, and the only reason people left Mají-jalio alone about it was because he was… him. He had the money, and at the time I was a hot commodity because I was nameless. But now… I don’t think I would have given Flint that much, even if I’d meant for him to outbid the others.
My new handler opted to use the stairs on the side of the stage instead of vaulting up like most pirates tended to. It gave me a good look at his face as he approached Vidan with his staggering bag of coins. He’d had to sling it over his shoulder, like a robber from a cartoon.
This man, was a total stranger. He certainly wasn’t from my crew, and he wore neither the blue bandana of Storm’s crew nor Vinyé’s green belt-sash. Yet he was not a man that would have blended in with a crowd. His hair, while long like most pirates with experience, was tied back from his face. Not only that, but he must have had five different belts and bands that crossed his body and hung about his hips. Of course, the magic of the Conclave prohibited weapons, but this guy must have carried every scrap of steel he owned when he crossed the threshold. And of course, there were his markings.
There was of course the normal marker, a swirl of black and blue fighting dragons with multicolored fire that spiraled into a yin and yang. That was on his left shoulder, as every person’s tattoo was. But he had another set of markings, on his face. They were bold, black triangles that began just underneath his eyes and extended down to a point at his jaw. They gave him a permanently pissed off expression, the kind that would mark a man as dangerous even when he was smiling.
He had paid and was standing before me when I’d finished my appraisal.
“Would a hoop work?” he asked quietly. “I don’t want to give you something you hate as a sign, and I think the hoop will remind them you’re a pirate. You’re the only girl in here that still looks dangerous after all, but if you hate it I’ll give you something else instead.”
“You’re asking?” I said.
He shrugged slightly and I shrugged back, unable to stop myself from smiling at the gesture.
“This one claims Saldré!” my new handler announced. “And with this hoop as a sign, for though she is a pirate, she is mine!”
He opened his hand and revealed a mid-sized gold hoop. I moved to take it from him, but paused when I realized it had no clasp. There was no way to attach it. My handler smiled at my confusion before carefully threading the thing through my ear.
“Don’t move,” he warned.
I felt heat against the back of my ear, but only for a moment. His hands pulled away a moment later, and I reached up to feel that he had essentially welded the earring shut, heating the metal until it fused in a single spot. My handler pulled my hand back down a moment later, clasping my hand in his as he escorted me from the stage and through the pirates nearest the stage.
He pushed his way through the front throng of pirates, surprising me by pulling me along the front of the stage instead of heading toward the lounge areas near the bar.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll try to make it up to you later, but the angry whispers about me tonight are only beginning. I have my orders.”
“Orders?” I asked. “You don’t wear a crew marking… and you don’t look like a rogue. I mean, the wearing every weapon you own is rogue-ish, but still…”
“I’m too clean to be one of them,” he laughed. “Though, I’m honestly a little relieved to hear you say that. It means I’ve chosen the right girl.”
His mouth continued to move, but no sound came out. He frowned, pressing his lips in a thin line as he thought for a moment before trying again.
“Most guys don’t notice,” he began. “But Vidan doesn’t usually change a girl’s hair color. He might highlight it, but his changes are minimal. He counts on the fact that most men aren’t looking to see their crewmates in the girls dancing before them. So… a person who was looking for someone specific, a fire user maybe, could find the right girl if he knew her hair color and some of her personality. Whereas Flame’s crew is so thick they probably wouldn’t recognize her even if one of them did manage to buy her.”
I narrowed my eyes at my handler, taking a minute step backwards. He knew. He had sought me out, and now he was letting me know that he knew. Yet I had never seen this guy before. I would have remembered him.
“You haven’t told me your name yet,” I said after a moment. “I’m at a bit of a disadvantage here.”
“You’re at a disadvantage anyway,” he reminded me, lifting his arm to show me the thin gold band around his wrist. “But the name’s Kleon. For the moment, that’s all you need to know.”
Kleon then turned to face the stage again, studying another returner who had walked onto the stage. Her blonde hair was dirtier than my own, but she was pale, and dressed in a pale green dress with a swishy skirt. Vidan introduced her as Lilyah.
One of Vinyé’s pirates opened up with a bid of 200, and the bids that followed crept up by the 10’s. Lilyah stared fixedly ahead, and I felt a rush of pity for the girl. She was pretty, but in a sweet, take home to mom sort of way. She didn’t look like she belonged in any sort of club, much less the Conclave.
“800” Kleon said.
Laughter followed his sentence from the pirates that were too far away to realize who had spoken. 800 was a high price for someone like Lilyah. Yet Vidan didn’t close the bid right away. He looked around the room trying to single out the men who had previously bid even though he couldn’t make out faces while he was on the stage.
“Do I hear 810?” he called hopefully. “Anybody? Anybody going once….. going twice?”
“Sold,” Kleon muttered, grinning at me before he pulled himself on stage.
“No man has ever done this before” Vidan said, a note of warning in his cool tone.
“There are no rules against it,” Kleon said, shrugging as he pulled a second bag of coins from a pocket in his pants that looked too small to hold such an amount. “It’s all there.”
“I’d always hoped to see some man try,” Vidan admitted. “But I never would have guessed it would be you.”
Kleon smiled at Vidan and fastened a small silver locket around Lilyah’s neck.
“With this token I take Lilyah as my own!” Kleon called out as he led his new prize down from the stage to meet me.
“I will explain later,” Kleon promised again when he returned to where I was standing. “But for now, if you two could talk quietly between yourselves for the moment. It won’t be so easy now.”
By the time every girl had found a handler, Kleon had five of us, all blondes. There was Glace, Alura, and Sanrisa, in addition to Lilyah and myself. Kleon now made a faint jingling set of clinking noises whenever he moved his right hand. He led us back and into one of the little lounge areas. He sat down first, and Lilyah, trying to gain favoritism, wiggled past me to sit on Kleon’s lap. But Kleon had different ideas. He placed his ankle on his opposite knee and lightly pushed Lilyah to the side, seating her beside him. I took the space on his other side, while the three newer girls crowded near his feet.
“Now,” he said. “I’d like you all to listen well, because I’ve never liked repeating myself.”
“HEY YOU!!!”
I felt the couch beside me shift as Kleon jumped slightly, but to his credit, the surprise didn’t cross his expression. Red stormed toward us, finger pointing at my handler.
“What was that all about?” he demanded.
Kleon shrugged, “I wanted to see if it could be done.”
Red snorted and rolled his eyes, shifting his accusatory finger in my direction. “If you wanted to see how many girls you could collect you wouldn’t have wasted thousands on that one, and if you were trying to get all of them, you would have started sooner. So what’s your real game?”
“It’s none of your concern. You can do nothing about it, because these women are mine. You know it’s impossible to make them do something they don’t want to do, so what are you so afraid of?”
Red’s eyes flickered to me for the briefest of moments; I could see him scrambling for a valid answer.
“No decent sort of pirate needs more than one girl,” he said lamely. “I don’t want to see anything bad happen when there are already too few women to go around.”
“She’s in good hands.” Kleon assured.
“I hope they are,” Red said quietly, taking that as his cue to go elsewhere.
“As I was saying,” Kleon said, continuing as if Red had never interrupted in the first place. “I don’t have a nefarious scheme concerning you lot. I was just curious about how outrageous a price would have to be to automatically win a girl, and how that varied depending on the kind of girl. But now you’re all stuck with me, so we’re going to have to work together. I want this to be as painless as possible for you. My rules are simple. I want you to be independent. Do what you want, when you want, with who you want. Trust me when I say I won’t get jealous. I’ll take care of anything you need, and any problems you might have with anyone else in here. You shouldn’t feel the pull of magic unless I absolutely need to talk to you and can’t find you for some reason. Understood?”
We all nodded slowly, understanding what he was saying but not why he was saying it.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll let you all go then, but you must promise not to tell anyone my name.”
He laughed. “I’m enjoying the ‘mystery guy’ thing, and would like to hang onto anonymity for as long as possible.”
We promised, and the other girls went on their ways. I stayed with Kleon, guessing he had something further to say to me. After all, he hadn’t mentioned his “orders” to the other girls, or the fact that he had deliberately sought me out.
“It was a partial truth,” he said, answering the question I hadn’t yet asked aloud. “There’s a plot in motion, to overthrow this stupid system by freeing all of the girls, giving them a single handler. It would have to wait until next year of course. But I was ordered to buy you, and a few decoys, to see how the whole thing works. If you five work out alright, I wouldn’t mind some financial help from Gittoran’s crew next year. We don’t have the resources to buy every girl, but I think Gittoran does.”
“And if you’re my handler this year you can prove that you can be trusted with all of the girls,” I said, finishing the idea. It wasn’t a bad plan, and it was definitely one I wouldn’t mind helping bring to effect next year. But I wasn’t going to tell him that, not yet.
“I’ll think on it,” I promised instead, getting up and leaving my handler on the couch as I made my way to the bar.
I didn’t actually drink, unlike most pirates; I appreciated my developing teenage brain cells. But the bar was the only place a pirate could hang out without being expected to talk to people, or in my case, dance. Bliss and I would usually manage to waste an hour of each Conclave at the bar, tucked away on one end, running up a tab under Vinyé’s name. Bliss normally drank this butterscotch stuff, while I preferred firesweet, a syrupy sweet drink of my own creation.
There was only one bartender, a redhead, that knew how to make my drink, and she was working down in the corner nearest the stage. She already had a few spheres of firesweet made when I sat down on the short end of the corner, my back to the stage. She left me alone, and for a minute I was content to let the music wash over me as the familiar giddy rush of power from the firesweet swirled around inside me.
That was when I saw the imposter, the stranger masquerading as Bliss. She laughed as she whirled around the dance floor, never more than three steps away from her handler. I scowled at her, the power suddenly sour in my stomach as the guilt rushed in.
It was my fault Briamy was gone, me and the sphere I was currently drinking from. Briamy had practically been a pacifist, yet had taken my red-hilted dagger after drinking firesweet for the first time. I knew what it did to me, and I was already a little wild and aggressive, to someone as sweet as she was… it was too potent, and ruined her. And for my mistake, another girl now danced as Bliss.
The new Bliss noticed me at the bar, and waved enthusiastically. I gave her a small wave back and vainly hoped she would remain with Vinyé. But she came over to meet me as soon as the song was over.
“Saldré!” she exclaimed, squeezing me in an eager hug. “So… you have to tell me everything. Your new handler, I’ve never seen him before. Is he like, super kinky or something? What does he need all of you for? And why are you all blonde? If I’d known he was collecting girls… well, actually I guess I couldn’t’ve done anything could I? Vinyé always gets first dibs, and he’ll never let me go. Not that I’m complaining or anything. He’s a great handler, and I’m lucky to have him. It’s great having a captain, the whole crew sort of has to watch out for me. But I guess you know that, being with Mají last year and all.”
The red headed bartender froze, butterscotch drink in hand, eyebrows raised as she waited for Bliss to draw breath. I laughed softly, relieved that someone else finally noticed the difference, the touch of exuberance that my Bliss never showed. The new Bliss reached her hand over the bar and took her drink from the bartender, draining her glass in a few seconds.
“Man that’s good stuff!” she said, smacking her lips. “Totally hits the spot after all of that dancing. Thanks barkeep! Oh, and Saldré, Vinyé says you should come out and dance, like we used to. He already says it’s cool.”
Bliss waved again, and returned to her handler. Our bartender stared after her.
“Barkeep?” she repeated. “And when did she start using the word ‘totally’ in a manner beyond its intended definition?”
“Meet the new Bliss,” I sighed.
“I miss the old one, and I wasn’t even all that close to her. It must be hell for you, to see her dressed up like your friend. Do you need a drink? A real one? You look like you could use it.”
I shook my head slowly, giving up on my half-finished firesweet and pushing it away.
“You know I don’t drink. I like my brain cells, and it wouldn’t be smart anyway. I don’t want to be coerced into something because I’m drunk. And there wouldn’t be a point anyway. I would get used to it, but wouldn’t be able to drink when I get home, so where’s the point? The way I see it, I can’t miss what I haven’t tried.”
“You’re full of crap,” she said, smirking. “I hope you know that. But if you insist on following one of your remaining morals, I’ll circumvent the alcohol thing. There are other ways for someone like you.”
She snatched up my firesweet before I could give her an answer, retreating to some back room beyond my sight. She returned a few minutes later, with a bowl of new chocolate spheres, these ones carved with triangles. My half consumed firesweet she placed before me.
“This” she began.
“Hey! Bartender! We’ve been here for two minutes!”
The red-head snapped her head to glare at the men a few barstools down. Unfortunately, they took this as a go-ahead instead of a warning, and began rattling off their respective drink orders… simultaneously. She sprang into action, pulling down bottles and mixing drinks. The men had drinks in hand within a minute. She took their coins and pocketed them, ignoring their protests for change with the word “pirate”. A third man sat down beside them, signaling for her attention. But she ignored him, rolling her eyes as she turned back to me.
“Now,” she said. “Let’s try thing again, we might have a full minute before that pansy drums up the courage to call me out and order his fruity drink. This… is kingsweet.” She smiled, gesturing grandly to the sphere between us. “Because it’s a drink fit for the king… not that I would know who that is. Alcohol-free; it’s a bunch of sweet stuff, like your firesweet. It should make you feel better. Now, drink up. Tell me how I did.”
I lifted the half sphere to my lips with every intention of drinking it slowly, I wanted to think about the sensation, to give the bartender a detailed description of what it was that she had made. But the moment the kingsweet touched my tongue, I was hooked. I drained the rest of the half-sphere, going so far as to stuff the chocolate shell itself into my mouth to get the last remnants of the drink.
I could taste the firesweet within the drink, the mixtures of chocolates, caramel, butterscotch, and cherry cordial, but there was something more, a piercing sort of cold within the drink that identified it as kingsweet. When I breathed after drinking the kingsweet the air seemed to have fallen a few degrees, despite the heat I knew was radiating off of the people around me. That’s when I identified the new ingredient for what it was: mint.
It should have worried me. Mint was the only magical drug in existence, and I’d never had positive experiences with it. It made a magic user desperate for their next hit as soon as the taste left their lips. On top of that, it amplified magic while making the magic user suggestive. If I had too much of the stuff, and someone complained that they were even slightly chilly, I’d probably burn the building down in an attempt to heat them up.
However, I wasn’t worried at all. The jittery rush that normally accompanied mint was accompanied by the sweeping confidence and power of the firesweet, and the combined effect left me with an almost painfully large smile on my face.
“It’s perfect,” I finally said in answer to the bartender’s question, grabbing a second sphere and biting into it. “How much more of this stuff do you have back there?”
“Enough,” she said shortly. “But no more for today. I do have a limited supply of the stuff. It’s not easy to come by, but I thought you could use a pick me up.”
“Bartender?” The third man called from down the bar. “You never got me my drink? I’d like vanilla rum please?”
She pulled a bottle from one of the lower shelves, blew the dust off of it, and practically threw it at the pirate.
“I hate my job,” she muttered. “I understood last year. Vidan says 14 is too young, and I get that. But at 15… I’m getting tired of these guys, and it’s only the first Conclave. That and I’d like a name. Not having one gets really old.”
I drained my second sphere, absentmindedly nodding in agreement as I picked up a third one.
“We could dance here,” I said. “He can’t stop us!”
I stood and began to dance, half empty sphere in hand. I opened my heart to the music, but the sounds were… strange. I could hear the layers of music, the places where the singers had been auto-tuned, the repeated tracks of the instruments. The effect was overwhelming, and I felt as if different parts of me were trying to dance to different layers within the music. I probably looked like someone had electrocuted me. Luckily Bliss grabbed me, restoring equilibrium to a world that I hadn’t noticed beginning to tilt. She spun me around with her, and I was able to sloppily follow her movements until one turn made me tip my sphere of kingsweet.
The syrupy substance began to run down my arm, and I lapped it off my skin before it could make it down to my elbow. Bliss laughed, and I glared at her, feeling my body begin to heat up. Didn’t she see what she had almost done? That drink was more important than her life, and she had almost made me waste some. Had I dropped it while dancing, I probably would have had to kill her.
I pulled myself away from her, turning to grab a fourth drink, only to find that the red-headed bartender had whisked the bowl from the bar and moved it onto a back shelf.
“Bartender!” I called, putting as much authority into my voice as I could muster.
I debated climbing over the bar, but the bartender, looking hassled, returned from the back.
“I need another one,” I explained.
The bartender shook her head, looking distractedly at the guy still whining about his lack of service and demanding vanilla rum.
“I need it,” I repeated, checking to make sure she had heard me. She must not have, or she would have gotten me my kingsweet. It was important.
“You’re cut off,” she said. “It’s too potent.”
“I’m fine!” I protested.
“You’re burning the wood of the bar… through the polish.”
I lifted my hands from the bar, to find that she was right, but that didn’t matter. I reached out anyway, as if force of will could summon the bowl to my hands. The bartender picked up the bowl and took a step away from me, toward the other customers. The unserved pirate took this as his cue to redouble his attempt to get a drink.
“HEY LADY THIS VANILLA RUM ISN’T COLD AND IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE COLD. I’D LIKE A NEW ONE, AND I THINK IT SHOULD BE ON THE HOUSE!”
I saw the bartender snap before she moved. Her grip on the bowl tightened, and she took the five step gap between her and the pirate in two strides. She smashed the ceramic bowl over the unfortunate pirate’s head.
“On the house,” she growled.
She then climbed up onto the bar, shoving the now unconscious pirate’s slumped form onto the floor with a booted foot.
“The next man who decides to throw a tantrum because his girly drink wasn’t on ice can yell at someone else!” she called. “I’m done!”
She turned to look at Vidan, who had emerged from the lounge and was now standing in the corner of the stage.
“I know you wanted me here another year, but I can’t handle it. I’ll dance. I’ll have a handler, and I’ll dance for him.”
Vidan shrugged, already beginning to wave his hands towards the girl to change the appearance of her mask, and subsequently, her entire appearance. For the moment, she was in a purple sort of haze as her black uniform was replaced by her costume.
“Your name,” he began.
“My name is Shade.” The girl announced. “And you can start the bidding at 1000.”