Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates (35 page)

“And this is the part where I’m
supposed to be all curious and begging you to tell me all about myself,
right?”  Ransom scoffed.  “Forget it.  You can take your supposed secret
knowledge of my past and shove it straight up your ass, because I don’t care
anymore.  Frankly I never
really
cared, only in so forth as it had the
possibility of messing up my
real
life.”

“You were
always
disrespectful
though.”  The woman decided, thinking out loud.  “That much hasn’t changed.” 
The woman started walking again, her footsteps barely audible and seemingly
echoing despite the fact that as far as Ransom knew, they were still standing
in the Wasteland.  But they weren’t on sand any longer and it felt like they
were somehow indoors.  There was no wind.  No other sounds.  And it smelled…
empty.  Like an utter void with nothing else in it.

Something very strange was
happening.

“So… am I correct in assuming
there’s weird magic shit going on here?”  She asked her uninvited guest,
already knowing the answer.

Ransom hated magic.

“I am the most powerful sorceress
this side of The Briary.”  The woman announced with no small amount of pride. 
“Chosen by the Great Silver Wolf to bring about his bloody will.”

“Huh.  Well… your god is wrong.” 
She deadpanned, unwilling to sugarcoat things.  “Sorry if that sounds harsh,
but I’m really getting sick of humoring people and their ontological stupidity.”

“This is
definitely
the
pirate’s influence on you.”  The woman spat out angrily.

“Maybe.”  She shrugged.  “He’s very
supportive of me expressing what I’m feeling.”

“I’ll kill him.”  The stranger said
harshly, more like she was announcing her plan rather than making a threat she
expected Ransom to react to.

Ransom snorted in dismissal.  “No,
you won’t.”

“You’ve forgotten who I
am
,
girl.”

“No, I think you’ve forgotten who
I
am
.”  She moved to her left, circling the woman.  “Pirates fly two types of
flag, did you know that?”  She asked the woman conversationally.  “They can fly
the traditional Black Flag, which shows the captain’s own piratical coat of
arms.  In my partner’s case,” she chuckled to herself, “I’m told it depicts him
standing with Death, sharing a drink and a laugh.”  Her smile disappeared. 
“And they can fly a Red Flag, which is much less fun.  You see, the Black Flag
is communicating that you mean to have your way, but don’t desire a fight.  No
one has to die and everyone can go home satisfied, so long as no one does
anything rash.  But the
Red Flag?
”  She adopted a sad tone.  “Oh, I’m
afraid the Blood Flag communicates something else
entirely
.”  Her voice
took on a threatening edge and she braced her feet, preparing for a fight.  “I
suppose what I’m trying to tell you, is that if you try to stop my pirate from
flying his Black Flag, then I’ll start flying the
Red one
.”

The threat hung in the air, the
woman apparently taking it seriously.  Whatever she thought she knew about
Ransom, it must have been in line with that warning of upcoming violence.

“The Grizzwoodians are a
disgusting
race.”  The stranger announced.  “Not even human, really, just beasts squatting
in the mud and worshipping their heathen gods.”

“Yep.”  Ransom nodded.  “But then
again, he’s not the one trying to eat my internal organs, soooo…”

“I need them!”  The woman screamed,
somehow offended by her refusal to simply hand them over.  “
You owe them to
me! 
And not you, or your little pirate friend, is going to stop me!”  She
stomped her foot on the strange echoing ground.  “I warned you, didn’t I?!?  I
told you what would happen if you crossed me!  Told you for years what would
happen if you tried to be more beautiful than I am and went against my will!”

Ransom couldn’t help but laugh over
the absolute absurdity of that statement.  She began to wish that her partner
were here too, as he’d get such enjoyment over the craziness she currently
found herself embroiled in.  Some strange shit had happened to him over the
years, but she was going to beat him with this one.

She blamed his while “one last
mission and then we’ll admit our love” bullshit. 
Everyone
knew that
Fate was just waiting around for people to say shit like that so it could
royally screw them over in the most ironic way possible.

That was the first rule of piracy!

“But no!”  The woman continued. 
“You
had
to…”

“This is just…”  Ransom began,
cutting her off, then simply threw her arms out in exasperation and began to
walk away.  “I really don’t have time for your insane bullshit, lady.”

“You turned against me!”  The woman
yelled after her, obviously believing that she’d been betrayed.  Surprisingly,
hurt was evident in her tone.

“Yeah, I wonder why.”  Ransom
wondered rhetorically.

Something hit her from behind,
knocking her to the ground and causing her entire back to feel like it was on
fire.

She swore in pain and anger.

She really really hated magic.

“Do you think I’ll just let you get
away again?”  The woman growled, stalking forward towards her.  “After all
you’ve done?”

Ransom tried to turn over and
winced in pain.  “I… I have no idea
what
you’re going to do, lady.”  She
started to get back to her feet.  “I don’t even know who the fuck you are.”

“Well then…”  The woman was
suddenly on top of her, pinning her to the ground and holding her hands on
either side of Ransom’s head.  “Let’s see if I can’t fix that for you, my
daughter.”

Ransom opened her mouth to question
that, but it came out as a scream of pain as energy shot through her skull like
fire.  Her head felt like it was being ripped apart and every muscle in her
body was suddenly in agony.

She let out another scream,
flailing her arms… and was suddenly falling.  She hit the sand and scrambled
away from where the woman had been, trying to get a sense of where her opponent
might be now.

A hand grabbed for her in the
darkness and she instantly bent it back at the wrist, intent on breaking it.  It
took her a second to recognize the familiar feeling of her partner’s touch and
she loosened her grip, hoping she hadn’t hurt him.

“Uriah?”  She tried to ask… but
nothing came out.  She tried again, but was met with similar silence.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t speak. 

It was that she couldn’t hear.

She screamed at the top of her
lungs in terror, but couldn’t even hear the sound of her own voice.

She fell to the sand again, growing
hysterical and starting to cry.

Uriah caught her as she tried to
struggle free.  “I can’t hear!”  She said, unsure if she was screaming or
whispering, and no longer able to judge if the words were even intelligible. 
“I can’t…”  She started to sob.

He took her hand and slowly drew a
little heart on her palm with his fingertip, then pressed it to his lips.

Ransom started to cry harder,
unable to even hear her own sobs in her silent and dark world.  She pressed
herself against her partner’s chest, struggling to feel the familiar beat of
his heart.

She passed out.

Seven Days Later

Uriah rearranged his partner in his
arms, trying to find a more comfortable way of carrying her.  She’d been asleep
for a week now, and if she didn’t wake up soon, she was going to miss the fun
and excitement of dying of thirst.

He had absolutely no idea what had
happened to her.  One moment they were talking and the next, she hit the ground
screaming.

And somehow in those few seconds,
she’d been rendered deaf.

Given the strange nature of their
lives and their current enemies, he had a pretty good idea of who might be
behind it though.  And the Adithians were going to be very very sorry they had
touched her.

He’d make sure of it.

But first, he had to make it across
The Great Nothing and get to his treasure.  Which, in his mind, was becoming
more and more a weapon.

He took another step, wincing as
his bare foot sank into the salt again.  It was like walking on hot coals and
he had been leaving bloody footprints in the loose salt for days.  He had lost
his boot in the shipwreck and he’d been unable to fasten a makeshift replacement
which could hold up to the harsh landscape.  So, he’d been forced to walk
barefoot across the salt.

The primary feature of the
Wasteland, The Great Nothing, consisted of over two thousand square miles of
utterly flat salt.  Sometimes packed firm, sometimes loose enough to sink into,
the salt was a nightmare to travel across.  Nothing grew here.  There was no
water.  To make matters worse, the altitude was high enough that it was also
freezing and the air was very thin.  Just moving left you winded.  A cold wind
blew the loose salt into your face, while the intense sun beat down on you from
high in the cloudless sky, somehow doing nothing to warm you.

You froze and burned in this dry empty
hell, cursing yourself for ever deciding to come to the Grizzwood Plateau.

He rearranged his partner in his
arms again, his feet now sinking ankle deep in the salt, which was currently the
consistency of broken glass.

His bare foot was raw and split
open, causing him to fall forward.  He twisted in the air to protect Ransom,
hitting the salt and landing on his side.

He lay there for a moment, staring
up at the empty oppressive sky, hating his homeland.  He’d always hated the
Grizzwood’s trees and swamps, but he was finding his hatred for the plateau
just as bad if not worse. 

Fuck the Wasteland.

“We’re dead.”  Ryle announced,
staggering up beside him.  “Aren’t we.”  It wasn’t a question.

“I’m not dying until I get my
treasure.”  Uriah told him flatly, pulling himself back into a sitting
position, his partner on his lap.  “I don’t care who I have to kill or what
kinds of unholy deals I have to make with which variety of evil spirits, I’m
getting
my treasure.”

“We can’t go on like this, Uriah.” 
The swab croaked, his voice dry and his body visibly shivering in the cold wind.

“I’m open to suggestions on how you
hope to solve our present crisis.”

“I’m not seeing a way out of
this.”  Ryle shook his head.  “We have no supplies left.  How much further do
you think we need to go?”

Uriah looked out over the horizon, then
back to Ryle, as if the answer were obvious.

There were untold miles of nothing
in all direction, the distant mountains to the north being the only visible
sign of anything but salt.  Somewhere in the north-west reaches of that range,
Nar Ta’Tel awaited them.  They were supposed to have sailed to the base of
those mountains, but their shipwreck had ruined that plan and now they were
attempting to walk.

They weren’t going to make it.

The boy let out a long breath.  “Well,
this
was a great idea.”

“Your other option was being
tortured to death by the Adithians.”  Uriah reminded him.  “Or being eaten by
my people.”

“Good point.”  Ryle crossed his
arms over his chest, trying to stay warm in the icy and abrasive wind, his skin
cracked and dry from the burning sun and salt.  “How’s she doing?”  He asked,
concern in his voice.  “Any change?”

Uriah glanced down at his partner,
pulling his jacket around her tighter.  He’d wrapped her in it several days
before, hoping it would keep her warm and protected.  “She’ll pull through.”

“How do you know?”

“I know my partner.”  He told him
flatly, his voice in danger of breaking.  “She simply won’t quit.  Not ever.”

“Well… good.”  The boy nodded.  “We
need some good news.  Because we’re still days, if not weeks from anything and
we’re almost out of water…”

“
The water is hers.
”  Uriah
growled threateningly, staking claim to their supplies.  “Do you have a
problem
with that?”

The swab was silent for a moment,
not intimidated, just considering something.  “No.”  He said softly.  “She can
have mine too.”  He handed over his small bottle containing at most a swallow
of liquid.  “Give her whatever she needs.  I’ll get by.”

Uriah took the container, his
sudden anger gone.  “Thank you.”  He whispered, genuinely grateful.

“I had a wife, man.”  The boy
shrugged.  “I know what it’s like.”  He started back to help their clients. 
“Take care of her for as long as you can.”

Uriah began to carefully give his
partner some of the precious water.  “Everything in me that is in any way good,
you put it there.”  He whispered to her, gently pouring the liquid into her
mouth.  “I breathe only for you, do you understand?  There
is no
me
without you.  Both metaphorically and literally.”  He started softly petting
her hair and making comforting sounds as he cradled her in his arms, her head
resting on his chest.  “I know you’re afraid right now.  I’m afraid too.  I
can’t even imagine what you’re going through.  And once again, I’m helpless to
stop it.”  He kissed the top of her head.  “But you are the
center of me,
Dove. 
The center of my world.  The only thing keeping me together.  And… and the
center
has
to hold.  Or…”  He trailed off.  “Well, just please hold on
for me, okay?  Please?” 

“I refuse to die until we’ve had
sex.”  She croaked weakly.  “Especially after that speech.”

“Dove?”  His heart soared.

She swore, pressing her hands to
the side of her head and gritting her teeth, as if in pain.

“What?”  He asked, worried.  “Are
you okay?”

She swore again, rolling off his
lap and crawling several feet away.

He hurried over to her and knelt
down beside her.  “Dove?”

She continued swearing softly,
sounding terrified and pained.

He put his hand on her shoulder. 
“Are you…”

She snapped something in Adithian,
her voice vicious and angry.  Her words translated to something like: “Don’t
you fucking touch me, pirate!”

“Whoa…”  He removed his hand at
once.  “Hey, it’s me?”

She took several deep breaths,
trying to get a handle on herself again.

A new fear took hold of Uriah. 
“You remember.  Don’t you.”  It wasn’t a question.  Somehow his partner had
gotten her memory back and whoever she had been… she didn’t want Uriah touching
her.  He closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer that he hadn’t lost her, but
recognizing that he already had.

“I’m fine, Uriah.”  She assured him
weakly, apparently guessing what he was thinking.  “Still me.”

He leaned closer to her.  “Are you
sure?”

“Pretty sure.”  She sat up, wiping
her face.  “Only
I
could put up with a stupid question like that and not
stab you with something.”

“Very true.”  He let out a long
thankful sigh, so relieved that he might cry.  “You’re speaking Adithian, you
know.”

“I am?”  She sounded surprised.

“Yes.”  He leaned closer to her.  “What
do you remember?”

“Everything.”  She breathed.  “Well,
almost everything.  There are still some spots, thankfully, but I remember.”

He nodded.  “And are we happy or
unhappy about the return of your memory, Dove?”

“I…I don’t want to talk about it.” 
She whispered, her voice breaking.

“Ah.”

That told him more about her
memories than anything else.  Whoever she had been, it wasn’t something she was
glad to remember.

“Well, if you ever do…”  He began.

“I won’t.”  She cut him off.  “I
don’t dwell.  I’m not a ‘cry and scream and throw a temper tantrum’ type of
girl.”  She stood up.  “You’re the melodramatic one in our partnership, ‘Rai.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m the only
one willing to admit I actually
have
emotions.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”  He got to his feet so
that he was standing next to her.  “Besides, I seem to you recall doing a fair
amount of crying recently.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she swatted at him,
“shut up and bring me up to speed here.  How we doin’?”

“Not good, I’m afraid.”  He let out
a sigh.  “We are currently stuck about thirty miles into the Great Nothing.”

“Uh-huh.”  She started dusting
herself off.

“Anyway, it’s basically… nothing.  About
500 squares miles of it.  As far as you can see.”  He reached down to
straighten her coat.  “To the north are the mountains which separate the
plateau from the Grizzwood swamp, and every other direction will lead to the
sea.  Eventually.”

She swatted his hand away.  “And
what the fuck am I wearing?”

“A coat?”

“Am I wearing the fucking corpse
coat?”  She arched an eyebrow.  “Because I’m not going to be happy if I am,
Uriah.”

“Well, how do you feel about
freezing to death without it?”  He asked her.  “And having your skin torn off
by a sandstorm of salt?”

She considered that for a moment. 
“Pont taken.”  She snuggled into the garment, seemingly finding it comforting. 
“You don’t need it?”

“I’m fine.”  He assured her.

“If you get too cold, just tell me
and you can have it back.”

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t sound entirely
convinced, but kept the coat on.  “How long was I out?”

“About a week.”

She frowned.  “Wait…”  She turned
around to face him.  “You carried me through the desert?  For a week?”

“It’s not technically a desert,
it’s a salt flat plateau.”  He corrected.  “It’s a bit of a geological mystery
how that happened.”

“So…
up a mountain
and
across a desert?”

“Essentially.”  He nodded.  “Yeah. 
What else was I going to do?  It’s not like we have a horse and I didn’t trust
the Swab to do it.”

She stalked towards him and he
wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do.  She opened her mouth to say
something, then closed it.  “Thank you.”  She said softly, her voice filled
with emotion.

He shrugged.  “Well, I just
wanted…”

“Please don’t say anything
sarcastic or something designed to ruin this.”  She whispered.  “Just let me be
grateful.  I owe you that much, at least.”

He shifted, feeling awkward.  He
wasn’t used to praise.  It felt… weird.  “But I’m so good at ruining things,
Dove.  I have to play to my strengths.”

“Direction?”  She asked, wiping her
face again and trying to focus on the matter at hand.

“Can I touch you?”  Given her previous
reaction to him, he wasn’t sure what she’d do if he put his hands on her.

“H-h-how?”  She stammered, sounding
afraid for some reason.

“Just your shoulder.”  He
promised.  “I’ll show you which direction we’re going.”

“Okay.”  She whispered.

He gently put his hand on her
shoulder and her entire body stiffened.

“It’s this way.”  He turned her around. 
“We’re headed north-west.”

She nodded silently, then paused. 
“I’m sorry.”  She said softly.  “It’s not…  It’s just that…”

“I know.”  He assured her.  “Don’t
worry.”

She put her hand up to her temple. 
“I’ve got a lot of stuff going on up here and…”

“I know.”

“The memories are…”  She
swallowed.  “But it’s not
you
, okay?”

“I know.”  He nodded.

But it was.  He knew it was.

She sniffed, trying to get control
of her emotions.  “What’s it look like?”

“Blue sky, white ground.  Nothing
as far as the eye can see.”

She frowned in confusion.  “Wait…
the ground is white?”  She sounded like she was desperate to change the subject. 
“How can snow and salt both be the same color?  One is wet and one is dry! 
That doesn’t make any sense!”

He started after her.  “It makes
perfect sense.”

She snorted in dismissal.  “Only to
you.”

“Only to the sighted.”

“Colors are weird.”  She decided.  “And
confusing.  They adhere to no logical rules and I
honestly
think they’re
just arbitrary.”  She shook her head.  “I don’t like them.”

“You don’t remember them?”  He
asked.  “Even with the new memories?”

“I don’t…”  She started, then
trailed off.  “I remember those memories like all the others, just sounds and
stuff.  I remember things happening and I remember seeing, but none of the associated
visuals.  And I don’t… I don’t want to think about it anyway.”  She cleared her
throat.  “I can only remember actually seeing one thing.”

“Which is?”

“None of your business.”

“Ah.”  He tried not to smile.  “You
do love your air of mystery, don’t you?”

“She’s alive?”  Ryle asked,
stumbling up beside them.  “Wow.  Was not expecting that, I gotta admit.”

“I’m touched by your faith in me.” 
Ransom snarked.  “Are you the idiot who let my partner lead us all the way out
here?”

“No, your partner would be that
idiot.  He deserves 100% of the credit for this plan.”  Ryle informed her. 
“I’m the idiot who followed him.”

“Come on!”  Uriah threw his arms
out.  “Buck up!  Last week, you were saying how you didn’t want to drown, and
now I’ve given you the chance to die miles from any form of water, and you’re
still
not happy.”