Chapter 43: Children of Strife

“Some women want nothing but power, or status, or money. The ones who believe they stand for something greater are far more dangerous.”

-Blood Witch Amkara, 175 U.E.

Tee and I were born to a normal family. Well, as normal as you get in the Free Cities. Our dad was a pirate. Bordo Wenezian. Captain of his own vessel, the Dancer.

Tee was more of a momma’s girl, but Dad was my hero. He was gone more days than he was home, but I’d always wait for him by the window, dreaming of whatever adventures he might be on.

Dad had a friend. His most trusted. The Dancer’s first mate, Legarius Rand. He was pretty much like our uncle. Had an easy way. Everyone liked him. Whenever Dad set forth an idea, a crazy scheme, Rand backed him up.

The two were blood brothers. Mom was always joking that Bordo and Rand would run off together as lovers, leaving her in the dust.

And on it went for many years. Dad and Rand, they ran the Dancer together, snatching prizes from the Concord, the LIS, the Ashlands.

That all changed one day. Dad came home with a fabulous treasure—a piece of a map that he claimed would lead to a great prize. It was only one of many, so Dad hid the thing away and forgot about it, just another trinket of his long career.

But Rand didn’t forget. His heart burned with greed, as it always has, just beneath his false smile. For weeks, he bided his time. Did what he does best—spin a story.

We were having dinner, the whole family—bugshark stew—when the crew of the Dancer came around the house, Rand at their head. They were armed. Started smashing up the place.

Rand was spitting lies, accusing Dad of stealing from the crew, withholding the treasure from them.

Dad wasn’t about to take this sitting down. So he stood, drew his revolver, and put himself between us and the crew.

“Whatever grievance you have,” he said, “is between us. “You shame yourself by dragging this in front of my family. All of you should be ashamed! I thought you men of honor!”

I still remember that moment, clearer even than the day it happened. It’ll be etched into my mind until the day I die. The back of my dad—tall, proud, shielding us with his body.

Rand drew his gun, but Dad didn’t shoot. He trusted his friend too much. He must’ve thought there was still a way to resolve things.

A moment later he was on the floor, and I had his blood and brains all over my shirt. His revolver slid across the wood, hitting my foot.

Mom was crying at that point. Screaming. She threw herself at Rand, clawed his face, but he slapped her aside. The crew ransacked the house looking for that fucking map.

When they didn’t find it, Rand threatened Mom. Turned the gun on her. Told her to point out the hiding place, or she’d go the same way as Dad.

Mom didn’t say a word. Maybe out of spite, or maybe she was just in shock. To this day, I don’t know. Rand wasn’t so happy with that, so he turned to Tee instead. Took my sister and put a knife against her throat.

“Start talking, or I swear by every god on Solam I’ll cut her open,” he said.

The crew grumbled. They were there for treasure, not infanticide. But they’d already come this far under Rand’s lead, and with Bordo’s head burst like a melon, it was too late to go back. None intervened.

Mom said nothing. The look on her face was… I didn’t know a human could make a face like that. Eyes bugging out so hard I thought they’d pop out of her skull. Lips peeled back, teeth grinding. Like a dog that’s been beaten so bad that all it knows is pain and rage.

She lunged at Rand again. Someone shot her, I don’t know who—but she fell down with a dozen bullets through her, bleeding out next to Dad.

Rand was going to cut Tee’s throat and be done with it.

I picked up the revolver at my feet. It was heavy, but the fear made me move quickly. I’d never fired a gun before. I closed my eyes when I pulled the trigger. But I got lucky, hit Rand in the leg. He fell back, slicing Tee’s throat as he went.

“Kill the little creatures!” he wailed, holding his leg.

But the crew didn’t move. They’d lost their appetite for destruction. Even in Tumba, there are lines you don’t cross. Killing children is one of them.

They carried Rand out of there, no piece, no nothing. Left me there with the mess they’d made.

Tee bled a lot. I held her throat and whispered to her. I promised her it would be alright, even though I knew it wouldn’t. I promised her she’d live, even though she already had that same dead look in her eyes as Mom and Dad.

But we got lucky. The governor’s men found us eventually. They brought us to the fort, and a surgeon there pulled my sister back from the brink, patched her up. Once I knew she’d live, I headed back into the city. I knew where Dad had hidden the map piece. It was kept in a pit dug under the foundation of the house. I took it and kept it close. Whatever happened, I vowed to myself, I’d never let Legarius Rand get his hands on it.

We spent the next few years in the care of the governor. It wasn’t exactly first-class treatment, but it was better than the street. Old Chaesim didn’t do it out of kindness, though. It was an investment, and he expected us to pay back every standard he spent on us, with interest.

Needless to say, we racked up quite the debt over the years. And like any hot-blooded youth in Tumba, I thought the best way to earn some hard cash was to become a pirate.

So I convinced Chaesim to fix me up a ship, adding the cost onto my debt. I slowly built my crew—you know who you are—and set out to finish what my dad started, tracking down that treasure. At this point, Vormor was in our lives, and she helped us where she could. Keeping a roof over our heads, helping Tee with her magic.

Once that treasure is ours, once Tee and I are free, I’m going to find Rand. And I’m going to kill him.

*****

Quintilla fell silent. No one else spoke.

Yin’s heart was pounding, mind racing. If Rand had done all that to get his hands on the treasure, why not hire a boy to befriend and squeeze information out of a gullible little girl?

No, she thought. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was honest with me. He must’ve been. The alternative is… I don’t want to think about that.

The alternative was that she had revealed vital intel to the crew’s greatest enemy.

The captain dismissed them, and Yin ran to ship, which sat near the bottom of the hill, and hurried to her cabin. She curled up in bed and clutched the flower pot with Torch’s ashes to her chest.

“What a mess…” she whispered. “I can’t believe you’re gone, Torch. What a stupid way to die.”

There was a gentle knock on her door.

“Yin?” Stephan asked. “Can I come in?”

“If this is about Wil, don’t bother,” Yin said, stifling a sob. “I already know I’m an idiot.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot. We don’t know anything for sure yet. Maybe he wasn’t acting on Rand’s orders. Although…” He paused. “I’ve got to take this to Quintilla. You understand that, right?”

Yin wiped her nose with the back of her hand. She sniffled. “Yeah. I know. Could I… ask you for a favor?”

“Anything, sweet pea.”

Yin padded over to the door and opened it. She ushered him inside and closed it behind her.

“Okay, what can I—” Stephan started.

She hugged him. He stroked her hair as she cried into his bloody suit.

END OF 'THE LOVE BOAT' ARC