The Pirate's Wish

  “I could,” the man said. “But then I wouldn’t be able to take my revenge, would I? Besides, do you really want a man at your side who doesn’t love you?”

  I trembled. Behind him, Marjani said, “Ananna, don’t you dare listen to him. He’s spinning a web–”

  “Shut up!” The man whirled around and struck Marjani in the stomach. I lunged at him with my sword, which did nothing, and for a moment or two Marjani stared stricken at him, like she couldn’t believe he had hit her. And then she pulled out her pistol and shot him through the heart.

  The man roared with laughter. “How many times will you two try to kill me? You know it won’t work–”

  Light flowed across the deck of the ship.

  It knocked me and Marjani over, stunned us both. Naji, I thought. He came after all–

  “Yes,” the man from the Mists said. “He did come. Hello, Naji of the Jadorr’a.”

  My whole body turned cold. Marjani grabbed my arm. “Don’t be stupid,” she said, voice slurring a little. “Don’t be–”

  I scrambled away from her. Naji was floating above the deck, his body contorted in pain. And the man was laughing.

  “Stop it!” I shouted.

  The man looked at me. “I knew that would draw him out,” he said. “Putting you in enough danger. Frightening you enough.” He laughed.

  “Why didn’t you kill him?” I shouted at Naji, who just screamed and writhed in the air.

  “Because even the people of the Mists have charms of our own.” The man smiled at me. Then he walked up to Naji and pulled out his starlight knife. Naji moaned. My heart damn near stopped beating.

  Charms of our own.

  “Ananna,” Marjani said, her voice faint behind me. “Don’t rush into this.”

  The man dug the knife into the left side of Naji’s face. Naji screamed and kicked. Blood splattered across the deck of the ship. Magic surged through me, a rush like the sort you get before battle. Marjani grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

  “Think,” she said roughly, her mouth close to my ear. “He has a charm. Something the other one didn’t have.”

  “The knife.”

  “Yes. But it’s too obvious. Something on the knife.” Marjani jerked her chin toward the man, the man and Naji. More blood splattered across the deck. My stomach lurched. “Look at the hilt. It’s wrapped in enchanted silk. I’ve seen that before.”

  “You’ve been to the Mists?”

  “Of course not. It’s not Mists magic.” She shoved me forward. Naji’s pain was starting to intrude onto me. It started in my head, but now it was a stinging in my face, a ghost of a wound lining my left cheek. “Get that charm off the hilt.”

  I ran toward Naji and the man. I didn’t let myself think about what I was doing. I just ran forward and plunged my hand through the man’s back. A half-second of resistance and then it slipped through as easy as it had the day I punched Echo. The man hardly had time to react when my hand shot out the other side and I grabbed hold of the knife.

  Naji gasped and landed with a sickening thump on the deck of the Nadir.

  The man whirled around and snarled at me, his teeth like daggers. A pop of a pistol and his chest turned to mist. Marjani. It wasn’t enough to disperse him back to the Mists, but it gave me enough time to see that the hilt of his knife was wrapped in stiff silk that smelled of the sap from the trees of the ice-island. I yanked on the silk, balled it up and tossed it in the sea.

  “I beseech your help!” I screamed. “Waters of the ocean! Please accept this gift–”

  The man from the Mists growled and snarled again. He looked less and less like a man and more and more like a beast from a temple painting. His eyes glowed with starlight. His skin was gray and pale, the color of mist.

  “What are you doing?” he howled.

  “Waters of the ocean!” I shouted, tears streaming down my face. “I beseech your help! Take this man away from the Nadir and her crew!”

  Naji lifted his head and stared at me. His eyes were so dark they looked like holes in his face. His mouth opened and closed. I could feel him – fear and panic and despair. I pushed it all away.

  “Waters of the ocean!” I screamed. “Please!”

  A shadow fell over the boat.

  For a long terrible moment the entire world seemed to freeze. Then the Nadir tilted backward, and a dark ocean wave rose up against the bright sky, the water throwing off dots of light.

  “Hold on!” Marjani screamed. “Knot a rope around yourself! Ananna!”

  I didn’t move. The wave wasn’t for me. It wasn’t for anyone human.

  A wall of ocean water crashed over the ship. For a minute all I knew was water and salt and light. I couldn’t breathe. When I opened my eyes I saw Naji floating through the murk, his hair streaming out from around his face, his eyes on mine.

  I screamed his name. Nothing came out but a stream of golden bubbles.

  And then the ocean slipped away.

  I slammed down onto the deck. The whole world was lit up in white sunlight. I squeezed my eyes closed and pressed my back against the wood. Crewman shouted and sputtered, their feet pounding against the wood. The sails snapped, the masts creaked.

  “Ananna?” It was Marjani. “Ananna, wake up. Are you alright?”

  I lifted my head and blinked at her. She was soaked, her hair plastered against her face. Behind her, the crew scrambled and crawled across the deck, rubbing at their heads.

  “Where’s Naji?” I asked. “Where’s–”

  “Over there…” Marjani pointed. Naji was sprawled across the deck, his chest heaving. “The man from the Mists is gone.” She gave me a short smile. “Didn’t know you could work water-magic?”

  I pushed myself up. My head spun. The ship was undamaged from the wave; the masts stood straight and true, the sails fluttered in the breeze. Everything was wet. That was all.

  Marjani helped me to my feet. My body ached, but I ignored the pain as I limped over to where Naji lay. I wasn’t sure if it was my pain or Naji’s anyway.

  “Ananna,” he said when he saw me.

  I knelt beside him and pressed my hand against his forehead. The ocean had washed the blood off his face, but the cut was still there, a dark jagged tear that would add another scar to the lines of his features.

  “I saved your life again,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  Naji laughed, though it came out choked and short.

  “You didn’t catch the curse again, did you? Cause I’d feel right bad about that.”

  Naji shook his head, wet hair flopping over his eyes.

  “Good to hear.” I stroked his hair, squeezed the saltwater out of it.

  “That was… impressive,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Just gotta know what to ask.”

  His eyes brightened. For a minute a tightness pinched in my chest. I thought about the man from the Mists smiling for me like he was Naji. But he wasn’t Naji. Because this was Naji’s smile.

  “Are they gone for good?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Naji said. “But you scared him worse than I ever could.”

  I laughed, heat creeping up into my cheeks.

  Naji lifted one trembling hand and tucked it against my face. “Thank you,” he whispered, and then he drew me down for a kiss.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  We sailed into Jokja water a few weeks later, on calm seas and high winds. A trio of royal ships were waiting for us, the Jokja flag fluttering against the bright blue sky.

  “What the hell?” I asked. Me and Marjani were up at the helm, looking out for the sparkle of Arkuz on the horizon. Marjani smiled.

  “Saida,” she said.

  “You sure? I dunno, I usually see navy ships, I either fire the cannons or run.”

  Marjani laughed. “I don’t think either of those actions will be necessary.”

  We sailed up alongside the closest of the navy ships. The crew lined up along the railing and shouted and waved. Marjani shouted and
waved right back.

  The captain showed up, his green sash rippling like the sea. He gave us a wave. “We’re here to accompany you back to land!” the captain shouted, his voice rising and falling on the wind.

  “Why?” I shouted back. “So you can arrest us?”

  Marjani smacked me on the arm.

  The captain shook his head. “By orders of the queen!” he shouted back. “She wanted to see you safely returned, and your boat docked with the royal fleet.”

  When I looked over to Marjani she was glowing.

  “Royal fleet, huh?”

  “That’s why I’m handing her over to you,” Marjani said. “I don’t imagine this ship sitting well next to a bunch of Jokja schooners.”

  I laughed at that, but really my stomach was turning somersaults at the thought of Marjani giving me the ship. She hadn’t made it official yet, hadn’t told the crew or nothing. I still didn’t see how this could go too well.

  It took another hour to sail to the Azende Palace docks and get the ship tied down. Just as we were finishing up, a pair of palace guards showed up on deck and snapped their blades into a salute the way they did up at the palace.

  “Can I help you?” Marjani asked.

  “The Queen sent us,” the older guard said. “We’re here to watch over your ship.”

  “Don’t need you,” I said. “Some of the crew’ll be happy–”

  “Ignore her,” Marjani said, and she had that glow again. I wondered if that was what I looked like every time Naji came around. I hoped not. “We’ll be happy to make use of your services.” Then she turned to me. “Go tell the skeleton crew they have free run of the city. But,” and she touched me lightly on the arm, “they have to be back here at sunset, same as the rest.” She smiled at me, and the rest of that sentence hung unspoken on the air. For the exchange.

  I sighed, but I did as I was told. The crew was certainly happy about it.

  Marjani was waiting for me on the dock along with Naji and another pair of palace guards.

  “Let me guess,” I muttered, “more accompaniment.”

  “Life at court,” Marjani said. “You’d get used to it, I imagine.”

  “It wasn’t this bad before.”

  Marjani shrugged.

  We made our way through the palace gardens and into the queen’s sun room. She was pacing in front of the big open windows when we walked in, the sunlight setting all her jewels to sparkling. When she saw Marjani she cried out, lifted up her skirts, raced across the length of the room, and caught Marjani in her arms.

  “Jani,” she murmured, burying her face in Marjani’s shoulder. “The fortuneer said you were drowned – she saw a wave crash over your boat. I sent out men to look for you, but we hadn’t heard – and the sentries were only there on the off-chance–”

  Marjani cupped Queen Saida’s face in one hand and kissed her, gentle and soft. Saida gazed at her, tears sparkling on the ends of her lashes. For a moment, no one in the sun room moved.

  “I really thought you were dead,” Queen Saida whispered. “And it was like when you left before, only worse, unending–”

  “I’m not dead,” Marjani told her.

  “It’s going to be like this every time you–”

  “I won’t be leaving again,” Marjani said.

  Queen Saida pulled away, stared at her. “I thought you were a… a pirate now.”

  Marjani smiled. And then she shook her no. “No, I was never a pirate. Not really.” A long breathless pause. “I’m staying.”

  My guts twisted up when she said that, not cause of her making me the new captain but because I wanted Naji to say those words to me more than anything, “I’m staying”, and he wouldn’t, I knew he wouldn’t. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye: he stood very still, his face a mask even though it was uncovered.

  “You’re staying?” Queen Saida trembled. “You’re really staying?”

  “Really. I’m really staying.”

  “Oh, Jani, this is marvelous news!” She threw her arms around Marjani’s shoulders and kissed her. “I’ll tell the kitchens right away. We should have a feast–”

  “I doubt the kitchens will be able to prepare a feast in the next few hours,” Marjani said. “And even if they could, it would be far too much work–”

  Queen Saida ignored her; she just turned to one of her pretty attendants and said, “Send Najala up to meet with me. I want to discuss the menu.”

  “Of course you do,” Marjani murmured, low enough that only I could hear her.

  “Aw c’mon,” I said. “Not many of us get feasts thrown in our honor.”

  “Yes, I suppose that does make the two of us members of a very particular club.”

  I laughed. Marjani just shook her head.

  But then Naji caught my eye, and my good mood evaporated. His expression was like the night sky during a full moon, dark dark dark, but in some ways bright enough to cast shadows.

  I could feel Marjani looking at me. I knew she knew something was wrong. But she didn’t say anything, and Queen Saida was calling her away for preparations, and I slipped out of the sun room and down to the garden.

  Naji knew not to follow.

  The feast wound up being postponed, cause, like Marjani said, the kitchens didn’t have time to prepare everything to Queen Saida’s liking. All that meant was that Naji and me couldn’t stay for it. He needed to leave, needed to go back to the Order, back to Lisirra. And truth was I didn’t much want to stay in Jokja any longer anyway. Partly because seeing Marjani and Queen Saida made me sad, but partly too because of the way I’d missed the sea so bad during all my times on land. Papa used to talk about it with Mama, the way the sea meant more to him as he got older. Mama always said it was because of the sea’s magic, that he was finally feeling it.

  And maybe I was finally feeling it too. I’d saved Naji with the sea’s magic. I’d saved him, just so he would have to leave me again.

  I stayed out in the palace garden all afternoon, listening to the jungle creeping up along the other side of the fence, chatting with the guards as they changed positions, taking cover underneath the banana trees when the rains came. Naji never came around. I told him not to, in the whispers that still bound us together by blood and magic. I told him I wanted to be alone for a while, to think. And he honored that.

  Although in my thinking I did, at one point, see just how well we were connected. I thought maybe it would come in handy, once he left and I sailed off to the merchant channels or the ice-islands or Qilar. It was during the rainstorm, and I was stretched out in the grass, rain beating against the wide, flat banana leaves. Everything smelled like soil. I closed my eyes and reached out with my thoughts. It didn’t take long.

  He was in the palace library, pouring over some old Jokja text. I saw him like I was standing in the doorway, but he didn’t look up, didn’t greet me, at least not in the physical. Instead, I heard his voice in my head.

  I thought you wanted to be alone.

  I am alone. So are you.

  For all I knew he was still reading that stupid book, but when I thought that he smiled. Just for a second.

  Not so alone, he told me. You’re here.

  Not really.

  Your thoughts are. It’s the same thing.

  No it ain’t. Except I didn’t say it, exactly, nor did I think those specific words. I just… disagreed with him.

  We can do this across the seas, he went on. You do know that, right? We won’t really be splitting apart–

  Out in the garden, I sat up, knocking my head against the banana leaves. Rain soaked through my hair, though my clothes. The image of Naji in the library was lost. His voice in my head was a whisper: Ananna? Where’d you go?

  I shook my head, trying to knock him out. It didn’t work. So I focused on the sound of the rain as it pattered across the garden, and in a few minutes I was alone again.

  Won’t really be splitting apart.

  I curled up beneath the banana tree, tuckin
g my chin onto my knees. I knew he was right, but–

  I just didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about anything.

  At sunset, I walked down to the Nadir alone. She was waiting for me in her place at the docks, her sails drawn up tight, her pirate colors fluttering like they were the Jokja flag. In the golden light of day’s end, she looked like something out of a dream, like something out of one of Echo’s visions.

  Almost too perfect for me.

  “Ananna!” Marjani leaned over the railing and waved at me. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.”

  “Got lost in the garden.”

  She laughed. I wondered if Queen Saida was gonna be on board, surrounded by her attendants. If there was gonna be a line of guards watching as Marjani told the crew I was their new captain.

  But there wasn’t. It was just Marjani standing there in a simple blue dress, and the only person by her side was Naji.

  His eyes crinkled when he saw me, and at first I wanted to ignore him, pretend he was just another scummy among the crew. But when he held out his hand I took it, and I let him drew me close and kiss me softly on the mouth. And I knew then that I’d missed his touch.

  “Alright, men,” Marjani hollered. “I made you all come back here for a reason.”

  “We leaving?” called out Bashar. “Finally sailing off to Lisirra like you promised?”

  “You are,” Marjani said, and the crew whooped and hollered without thinking on what she might’ve meant by that.

  “In fact, you can leave tonight,” she said, and the cheers picked up again. “Assuming that’s what your captain wants.”

  That got their attention. Finally.

  “And what do you want?” somebody called out.

  “I’m not your captain anymore,” Marjani said.

  Silence. My palms were sweating, and I wiped them on the edge of my dress.

  “You saying he is?” Bashar asked, pointing at Naji. “He ain’t no captain. He don’t know his way around a boat–”

  “I’m saying she is,” Marjani said.

  Every eye on that boat turned to me. The silence was even thicker than before, so thick I choked on it like Otherworld mist. I realized, standing there, that I’d expected to be jeered, but this silence was worse.