“No,” I said, tearing my eyes away from the disgustingly happy couple. “I’d rather pack my things tonight and head out in the morning. Besides, I’m eager to see how much the world has changed since before Volsog’s gates closed.” It wasn’t a complete lie. I was only a hundred and some odd years old when Myva rose up and banished all non-humans to a frozen hellscape. There is no telling how different the world looked after 600 years.
Her shoulders sank. “Right, I guess that makes sense. Damn, first Alexis flies off without so much as a farewell and now you.”
“Not entirely sure we should mourn the loss of a murderous talking sword,” Brie cut in.
Cinnamon shrugged. “I mean, she really only killed people we needed her to.”
“So far,” Brie replied.
“Don’t worry, Cin, I’ll be sure to drop by every now and then.” I bid everyone farewell and headed into my quarters below deck. Packing wouldn’t take long. I had little to my name aboard theBanshee. Any time we went out pirating, I took my share of loot and warped myself back to my castle in Volsog with the power of my Hearthstones. If I left one Hearthstone in the place I had last been, traveling back and forth was always an easy endeavor. So long as no idiot entered my quarters and took the stone from under my bed. Thankfully, no one on the ship was foolish enough to incur the wrath of a dragon.
I threw my sack onto the bed and knelt down to retrieve my stone. The smooth rock felt cool to the touch. Its travel rune was etched in glowing blue letters along the flat side of the rock’s face. I turned to toss it into the sack then reared back at the sight of something darting across the sheets.
My back hit the wall and my horn scraped a gash into the woodgrain. A pure white kitten jumped out from behind my pillow. The tiny creature let off a loud yelp before rolling over onto the sheets. I cursed, irritated. That damn cat could be so unsettling. A slow burn set off behind my eyes and I rubbed my temples to ease the pain.
Every other day the little furball would find its way into my things, leaving me with white fur-covered clothes and a sharp headache. I didn’t even know I was allergic to cats. Maybe I wasn’t. Maybe it was just that little monster in particular.
Rebekah gave off another yowl before trying to claw my bag. I snatched it away from her and shooed the beady-eyed thing off my bed. Not that I didn’t like cats, most of them never bothered me. There was just something about the waythiscat stared directly into your soul that left me unsettled.
I opened the door to my cabin and shouted for Baraku to come get his pet. The orc barreled in from the deck above and thundered to a halt next to my door. He ducked his head low and snatched the kitten from the floor. “Sorry about that, my lord; not sure why she’s taken such a shine to you.” His hands trembled as he spoke. The motion irritated the beast in his grasp and she let off an angry snarl and then bit his hand. Baraku flinched but didn’t let her go.
“You don’t need to call me lord. This isn’t even my territory.” I sighed and rubbed my temples again. Most of the other demons on the ship were used to Fallon’s and my presence. At least enough to drop the formalities. Yet, anytime I spoke to Baraku, he’d end up a shivering mess until he found a way to excuse himself. One would think that after a year it would be obvious that we didn’t intend to kill and eat everyone on board. “It’s fine, just make sure she stays out of my things for another night. I’m leaving in the morning and don’t need the extra stress of a headache.”
He nodded frantically and shuffled off with his pet. Rebekah’s unblinking beady blue eyes poked over his shoulder and watched me as she was carried off.
Such a creepy little thing.
Chapter 2
Cherry
Drowning was getting real old. The familiar rush of panic lit pin needles under my skin. I clawed at the mud of the bank and felt hard grains of soil between my fingers, but I might as well have been grabbing at the sands of time. Searing pain shot through my knee as the creature twisted my leg and pulled me further into the water. I cried out for my sister, as I always did, but the words were torn away in a cloud of bubbles when murky water filled my lungs. Through the haze of thrashing water and pain, I could see Cinnamon dive in after me. She reached out and, for a fraction of a second, hope bloomed in my burning chest. Our fingers brushed, and I kicked harder against the beast in a feeble attempt to grab hold. But, as always, Cin was just out of reach. With another forceful pull, the dog-like creature shredded any hope of salvation.
Screaming echoed against the stone walls of my tower. I lurched out of my sheets with a start, then promptly fell on my face when the fabric tangled around my legs. Not a great start to the day. Sighing, I kicked myself free and stumbled over to the wall, picked up my stone and gave it another scratch. One more tally to mark the never-ending monotony of my captivity. Five years’ worth of scratch marks stretched across the rounded walls before arching over the large window overlooking the sea.
Menacing-looking waves crashed against the rocky bank of my captor’s island. No matter the season or time of day, the surrounding sea never let up its harsh assault against the shore. Or, at least, that’s how it was ever since I attempted to escape by raft four years prior. When I first arrived here, I could have sworn the waves weren’t that violent. Then again, I’d been stuck here for years. It was entirely possible that I was simply going mad.
Chilly morning breeze sent chills down my arms as I sat on the windowsill. “Good morning, asshole,” I called down to the dragon below. As expected, the scaly blue dickhead didn’t respond. Or move, for that matter. Day in and day out, the massive creature remained coiled around the base of the tower. Leaving just enough room at the front door for his little frog-like minions and me to slip through. For the most part, my captor didn’t mind me wandering around the island, but if the tower was empty too long, he’d come running.
It was kinda funny in a way. When I was a little girl, my ma used to read me stories every night. Some were epic adventures with high stakes and exciting twists while others were of princesses trapped in towers guarded by fierce dragons. The pitiful princess would be stuck inside all day pining for her Prince Charming to come and save her. I always hated those princess stories. I couldn’t imagine why the lazy thing didn’t just get up and leave. Ironic, since I was now stuck in that same situation. Turns out, when a dragon holds you hostage, he doesn’t just let you get up and leave.
Who knew?
The sound of pattering feet in the kitchen below alerted me that Amanda, the head frog, had already started on my breakfast. I had no idea if her name was actually Amanda, but it felt rude to keep calling the creature that cooked for me ‘frog 1’. If she minded the name, she said nothing. Well, in common tongue anyway. She and the others did a lot of croaking I couldn’t understand. They could be calling me every curse in their froggy language for all I knew. It’s not like I did much else but insult their lord and pitch fits when my escape attempts fell through.
Freeing my hair from its wrap, I snatched up my comb from the dresser next to the window and began the morning ritual of styling. A few hair supplies, travel rations and a change of clothes was all I had in my satchel the day I was taken by that water monster. It was better than nothing, but– hot damn– the crimes I would commit for a freaking book.
“I’m thinking of bubble pigtails today. What do you think?” I called down to the dragon, knowing I’d never get an answer. Yet hurling insults and one-sided chats at him was the only conversation I ever got in this place. It had only taken about a week of silence until I had begun talking to myself like a madwoman. Then to the walls, then to the dragon, then I tried imitating the croaks of the frog people I’d seen skittering about. Judging by the angry hisses I had got in return, they did not appreciate my efforts.
The dragon below remained as silent as stone. With any luck, he was finally dead and I could leave. Unless the frog people were forcing food into his mouth, there was no way he’d eaten in the last few weeks. The damn dragon did little else but sit around and sleep. Which, I guess, was better than him trying to eat me. But it still made me wonder why he even cared if I escaped. Thwarting my attempts at leaving his island was the only time I’d ever seen any pep in his step. Well, that and the time he murdered a kraken that got too close.
If I were to try another escape, the crashing waves would still be a problem. It wasn’t much, but at least the raft I was building was twice as sturdy as the haphazard ball of twigs I had tried the last time. If I played my cards right, and used up every bit of luck I had, it might just be able to make it out to sea where the sailing would be smoother.
Twisting the first bubble of my hair into a gold hair tie, I reached for another band and contemplated finding a stick to poke that dragon with later. If he didn’t move, then I’d try finishing up my new raft.
On clear days like this one, I liked to imagine my home just beyond the horizon. With fall well underway, the trees lining the lanes of my family’s farm would be a sea of yellows and reds, lighting up the canopy in a blazing display. My siblings and I would fight over who grew the largest pumpkin before we harvested the seeds into salty treats. Cumin always won. But we tried to beat him every year, anyway. As soon as I found a way back, I’d twist his arm until he told me what witch he paid off every year to make his crop grow so fast.
Glancing around my room full of scratched up stone, I finished my hair with grim determination. I’d try again today whether or not that damn beast was alive. I would not die stranded on this fucking island. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the weather was perfect for sailing. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing the Fates to grant me favor. “Please let today be the day. I don’t care what it takes, just let me leave this place.”
