Emily and the Pirates

Separated from Caelum, Emily now found herself naked and dripping on the deck of a pirate ship, surrounded. The pirates leered shamelessly at her, some licking their lips in anticipation. Terror gripped Emily’s heart, and she worried she might pass out from fear.

But the Stoneshell was warm against her chest, a reminder that she was not entirely defenseless. Quite the contrary, in fact. The pendant’s firepower may have been useless against King Trilato, but now she was on the surface, breathing the salty air, aboard a highly flammable wooden ship.

Her features set with determination, Emily spun her hips around into a sitting position, quickly bringing her knees up to her chest to give the pirates as limited a view of her body as possible. Two of the pirates began to approach her, hands outstretched, practically drooling. She closed her eyes.

Holding her right hand out to her side, Emily ignited a glowing ember in the Stoneshell and directed it to her palm. With a loud whoosh, a great fire erupted from her hand. The pirates cried out in astonishment, taking a collective step back.

Reopening her eyes, Emily smiled as she took in the newly terrified gazes of the pirates. She glanced around at the wooden ship and made the fire in her hand grow larger, keeping it suspended in the air. The pirates exchanged curses.

“Right,” Emily said, letting the word hang in the air for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. “As you may have noticed, I just came from the depths of the ocean. Breathing underwater isn’t a problem for me, and neither is the heat of this magical fire. Both of those things, however, are going to present problems for you if you come any closer.”

The pirates’ eyes widened in horror. “Spare us!” cried out a short man with an eyepatch and a knobbly cane.

“Gladly,” said Emily, surprised at the immediate power of her threat. “But I have a few conditions. First off, none of you are going to touch or otherwise harm me. Second, this ship is going to take me where I want to go. And third, you are going to bring me something to wear!”

The pirates huddled together and murmured amongst themselves for a long time, stealing occasional furtive glances at Emily, each of which was met by an increase in the size of her fireball. A few pirates scurried below deck and returned. Emily waited, clasping her knees to her chest tightly with one arm, drying in the heat of the fire.

Finally, a large, stocky man with a red headband and a fuzzy brown beard stepped forward while the other pirates shrunk back. He looked Emily in the eyes, his face free of emotion. “I am First Mate Gideon and I grant these demands on behalf of the crew of the Sea Serpent.” Then, to a couple of pirates just behind him, he said, “You heard the lady, go fetch some clothes!” The pirates scurried below deck, almost tripping over each others’ feet in their hast.

Emily smiled and slightly reduced the size of the flame in her hand. She hadn’t expected the pirates to cave so quickly and had been steeling herself to burn at least a small part of the ship. The whole thing was a little suspicious, and she briefly wondered if she was walking into some kind of trap. Was the first mate just trying to get her to let her guard down? She would have to keep her fire ready.

Perhaps she would be better off diving back down and seeing if Caelum had managed to fight off their pursuers.

The two pirates soon reemerged from the hold carrying a bundle of leather and cloth, which they deposited on the deck a few feet away from where Emily sat, placing it down and hurriedly retreating as though they were leaving steaks out for a tiger.

The appearance of actual clothes made Emily’s mind up. She would stay on the pirate ship for the moment. Whether Caelum had been captured or not, she could be of no use to him at that time—strong swimmer or not, she would soon get lost trying to navigate the ocean herself, and of course, the Stoneshell’s fire was of no use down there.

Emily’s first priority had to be reuniting with Aria and continuing her training in the Stoneshell’s magic, now with Zephyr’s book to aid her. Finally acquiring an adequate and non-enchanted outfit, while not wholly essential to that aim, would make her feel a lot more comfortable in its pursuit.

Clothes! Emily gazed lovingly at the pile in front of her, already imagining how nice the fabric would feel against skin that had been exposed for too long. The pirate stood around her in silence, maintaining a respectful distance, waiting for her to take the clothes.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Could I get some privacy here? I’m not going to get dressed in front of you all.”

“Certainly,” said the first mate, motioning for the rest of the crew to leave the deck. Once they’d departed, he turned his back to Emily. “Cough when you are done.”

Emily crawled towards the pile of clothes and rifled through it. They were all men’s clothes but in small sizes. She pulled on a pair of brown trousers that came all the way to her ankles, far bigger than the gnome britches she’d been given by the traveling merchant, and secured them around her waist with a ratty old belt.

A billowy white shirt with ruffled sleeves was next. It was enormous and quite shapeless, hanging off Emily like a tent, and most of its buttons were missing. Clucking her tongue with annoyance, she pulled the shirt’s tails together and knotted them firmly. The ensemble left her midriff exposed and framed the Stoneshell with a fair bit of cleavage. But she was decent, and right now that was enough. Perhaps she would ask for another shirt later.

Emily pulled on a pair of socks and brown boots, not dissimilar to the ones she’d had at the start of her journey. In the absence of a mirror, she would have to imagine what she looked like, but she quickly decided that sexy pirate was a look she far preferred to naked fire-witch.

It felt amazing to be clothed once again. Finally, the intimate parts of her body were concealed and with no evil magic at play. Emily spun around with glee, boots thumping against the wooden ship deck. Properly dressed and empowered by the Stoneshell, she felt she could face whatever this strange world might throw at her next. She knelt down and picked up Zephyr’s book, tucking it in the crook of her arm.

First Mate Gideon cleared his throat, and Emily coughed. Before he turned around, she had already summoned a small flame back into her hand, where it flickered around her fingertips. “Thank you, Gideon.”

“At your service, Miss…?”

“Emily,” Emily replied. In lieu of a surname or title, she flared the flame in her hand dramatically.

“Well, Miss Emily, on account of your… credible threat, we are only too happy to accede to your demands. You have your clothes, and you have my word that no member of my crew shall touch even a single hair on your head on pain of drowning. There remains only the matter of where, exactly, you would like us to take you.”

Emily opened her mouth to respond but then realized that she hadn’t actually thought that far. Of course she wanted to reunite with Aria, but she had no idea where the beach on which they had parted was. Did it have a name? A set of coordinates? Emily found herself missing GPS technology.

Well, she may not have a phone with GPS, but she did have the Stoneshell, as well as Zephyr’s book. The power of the statue curse linked Aria to the Stoneshell, so perhaps it would be possible to locate her through that link. Emily would just need to figure out how.

“Miss?” asked Gideon.

Emily blushed, realizing she’d totally zoned out and not answered Gideon’s question. “Uh, right. Where do I want to go? Well, the thing is… I kinda still need to figure that out.”

Gideon snorted. “Aye, thou art a woman, of that I have no doubt.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emily asked, scowling. The flames on her fingertips grew in size.

Gideon turned pale. “N-nothing, ma’am. Just that it is the prerogative of a lady to… take her time in making a decision.”

He had a point, Emily had to admit, and the flames receded.

“Perhaps you would prefer to tell your destination to the captain. A meal has been prepared for you in his cabin, and he humbly requests the pleasure of your company.”

Emily’s stomach growled. Between her conversation with Zephyr and her disastrous audience with King Trilato, she had not had time to sample any of the Coral Gala’s banquet. Adrenaline and fear had kept her from thinking about food, but now that Gideon had mentioned it she felt famished. Joining a pirate captain in his cabin was something to be wary of, but between her fire magic and wonderful new outfit, Emily felt invincible.

“Sounds good, I’m starved!”

“Right this way then.” Gideon led Emily across the deck towards the stern of the ship, the deck wobbling and creaking beneath their feet. Fortunately, Emily had never been greatly affected by seasickness.

A few pirates glanced warily at her as she passed, but were quick to avert their gazes if she looked at them. They descended a narrow staircase, the wooden steps groaning under their weight, and navigated through a dimly lit corridor lined with doors.

Finally, they stopped in front of a sturdy oak door, reinforced with iron bands. Gideon knocked firmly.

“Enter,” came a voice from within.

Gideon opened the door and gestured for Emily to go ahead. “Captain Richard will see you now,” he said.

Heart pounding, flames flickering on the ends of her fingers, Emily stepped into the cabin, her face set in a resolute expression. She found herself face to face with the pirate captain, who raised an intrigued eyebrow at the sight of her fiery hand.

“A sea spirit who commands the power of fire,” he said. His tone was haughty, consciously more refined than the rough speech of the other pirates. “A mermaid on two legs. What wonders the ocean shows us.”

The captain bowed deeply, his watery blue eyes fixed on Emily’s. “Captain Richard Stoneheart at your service, Miss Emily,” he said, before straightening up and pulling out a chair at the table behind him. “Please, take a seat.”

Richard was a ruggedly handsome man with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His deep-set eyes seemed to hold all the depths of the oceans within them. His face was rough and scarred, weathered like those of the other pirates, but he held himself with a bearing that spoke of thoughtfulness and breeding. He wore a weathered captain’s coat and a pair of worn leather gloves.

Emily took the seat offered her, allowing the flames in her hand to go out and placing Zephyr’s book on her lap.

Richard sat down opposite her. “I am sorry we could not provide any better clothes than those. They are hardly fit for a lady of such great beauty.” His eyes flicked briefly across Emily’s seated form, undoubtedly savoring the loose fit of her shirt and the copious skin it exposed.

“They’re quite wonderful,” Emily replied, taking a moment to savor the almost novel feeling of fabric against her skin. “Though a shirt with a few more buttons would be welcome.”

“I will have the crew see to it,” Richard said, smiling and meeting Emily’s eyes once more. “Though buttons are hard to come by on the open sea.” He had taken off the captain’s coat to sit, and his own tattered white shirt appeared to be missing a few buttons near the top, where the side hung slightly open, showing a scarred and hairy chest. While not as muscular as Caelum, Richard was clearly a man of action.

So here was her pirate captain, just like in the book she’d been reading before this all started. She didn’t trust him, of course, but it was nice to meet a man who hadn’t already seen her naked. And if he pressed his luck, well, she had a fireball with his name on it.

The meal on the table was a simple affair, consisting of ship’s biscuits, salted meat, and a type of fish that Emily didn’t recognize. It had probably been caught in the same net she had, she mused. Richard poured out two glasses from a bottle of red wine, which glowed faintly in the cabin’s dim light.

Stomach still growling, Emily wolfed the food down quite indiscriminately. The biscuits were a little stale and the meat quite hard and chewy, but the fish was delicious. To her surprise, she also greatly enjoyed the rich and full flavor of the wine, though she was usually more partial to white. Across the table, Richard ate slowly, using a knife in his gloved hands.

“My crew tells me that you seek passage with us,” Richard said. “We are happy to grant this request and would have been so even without your threat of burning the Sea Serpent. It will be my greatest pleasure to see you safely to your destination.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed and she adopted a skeptical expression. “That wasn’t my impression from the way your crew looked at me.”

“Please forgive them. They have been at sea for a long time, far from their wives and sweethearts. After such prolonged deprivation, the mere sight of a lady can make a man mad. Especially one so beautiful as you, in all her natural splendor.”

Emily blushed momentarily but quickly returned her face to a hard expression. “Then you will have to forgive me for keeping my fire handy. A gal’s gotta have her defenses against men who might lose their minds in her presence.”

Richard laughed and took another sip of wine. “Of course, of course. But please rest assured that no man on this ship would be permitted to indulge his madness against a lady’s wishes. I will not allow it.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, not quite believing him. She glanced at her nails, allowing a tiny flame to flicker across them.

“But let us come to the point,” Richard said, waving a gloved hand as if to dismiss the previous subject of their conversation. “Where is it that you seek passage to?”

Emily pondered her response for a moment, biting her lip. “A beach. One not too far from here… I think. It’s a few days’ walk from… House Odonata. My traveling companion will be waiting for me there.”

“There are many beaches on the shores of Thessolan,” said Richard, raising an eyebrow. “And I’m afraid I have never heard of this House Odonata you speak of. Is there a port nearby this beach?”

“I… I’m not sure.”

“Then we have arrived at a difficulty. My crew and I will gladly escort you to the port of your choice, but we must know which port it is, or we cannot help you.”

Emily thought of the book in her lap and of Aria’s link to the Stoneshell. “I have a way of locating the beach,” she bluffed. “Through magic.”

Richard’s eyebrow raised higher still. “Ah yes, you are a mage. Well then, cast the spell, and we shall follow where it leads.”

Emily’s throat felt dry, so she took another sip of wine. “Right. Yes. I’ll do that. I just… need some time to prepare.”

“Of course, naturally. My crew and I will be happy to aid you with preparations to the best of our ability, though I must warn you that the Sea Serpent is not well stocked with alchemical ingredients.”

“That should be fine. I don’t think I’ll need anything like that. Just some time to prepare.”

Richard took another sip of his wine, regarding Emily with a curious gaze. As he put his glass down, he said, “That is an interesting piece. Your necklace. I have rarely seen jewelry made of stone.”

“It was a gift from a friend,” Emily replied, experience having made her wary of saying too much about the Stoneshell to anyone she didn’t fully trust. “My traveling companion, actually. She’s a… talented sculptor.”

“I can see that,” Richard said, now leaning forward slightly to examine the Stoneshell. “A beautiful piece. It must be very special to you.”

“Oh it is,” Emily gushed. She was feeling lightheaded—the wine was beginning to affect her. Better not have any more, she thought.

Richard stood up from the table abruptly. “Come, let us retire to the parlor,” he said, gesturing at a couch on the other end of the cabin. “I will play for you.”

Emily took Richard’s proffered hand, the leather of his glove cold to the touch. He led her across the room, where she sank into the brown leather couch, surrounded by overstuffed cushions. It was very comfortable, and the wine had made her a little sleepy.

Richard then turned to a corner of the room where a violin rested on an aged stand. The instrument was polished to a shine, its wood glowing warmly in the lantern light. He lifted it reverently and turned to face Emily once more.

As he positioned the violin under his chin and drew the bow across the strings, the first notes floated through the air, ethereal and haunting. The melody was melancholic but quite beautiful. Emily found herself drawn into the music and allowed herself to sink deeper into the couch as she listened. Everything around her seemed to fade away as the violin’s song filled the space. There was a powerful sadness in the music, which contrasted starkly with Richard’s unmoving, unreadable expression.

The piece slowed and finally came to a halt, with Richard grinding out the last few notes and then standing immobile for a moment, frozen in the act of playing. Then he lowered the violin, looked Emily in the eyes, and bowed. Emily smiled and clapped. “Bravo, bravo!”

The violin was placed back on its stand, and all at once Richard was sitting on the couch next to Emily, staring into her eyes. She could smell the wine on his breath and felt a weight resting on her knee.

“Richard…” she began, fighting the drowsiness of the wine and the dim cabin lights, and the oh-so-comfortable couch.

“Emily,” he replied, still holding her gaze. It was the first time he’d used her name. “I want to show you something,” he said, removing his hand from her knee before she could do it for him.

Richard set his lips in a hard line and screwed up his eyes, gazing intently at a spot just below Emily’s eye level. His left hand reached out to the side and he made a grasping motion with fingers, seeming to pluck something out of the empty air.

“W-what are you doing?” Emily asked.

He had pulled slightly away from her and seemed to be looking not at her, but past her. Then he drew his hand back, and Emily felt a sudden jolt against the back of her neck. Before her eyes, the Stoneshell pendant was floating, suspended in midair.

Richard drew his grasping hand in front of himself and the Stoneshell moved in unison. He grinned toothily at Emily, waggling his eyebrows.

“W-what is this? What are you doing?” Emily stammered.

“Sea spirits are not the only beings with a command of magic, darling,” Richard said, his eyes twinkling. From a gentle twist of his fingers, the Stoneshell spun around a few times, braiding the ends of the chain together.

“Stop that!” Emily cried. The Stoneshell began to glow orange, tendrils of smoke rising from its surface.

Richard’s eyes widened. “What’s this? I’m not making it do that!”

“I am,” said Emily. “And I’ll do much worse if you don’t stop this at once.”

“Quick with the threats, aren’t we?” Richard twisted his fingers more forcefully, causing the Stoneshell to spin around a few more times. The chain tightened to the point where it pressed into Emily’s neck.

Fire exploded from the shell as Emily swatted Richard’s hand away. Flame touched the leather glove and Richard cried out in surprise as it ignited. He leaped from the couch, frantically waving his hand in the air and then blowing on it.

Emily felt a little bad watching the spectacle. Perhaps she had overreacted. Sure, Richard was being a little creepy, but all he’d really tried to do was impress her with a magic trick. How was he to know she would take such great offense to him moving the Stoneshell around?

The fire had now been reduced to a cloud of smoke and the smell of burning leather. Richard didn’t appear to be in any pain, so Emily reasoned that the glove had taken most of the impact. Without that, she might have severely burned his hand. “Are you alright?” she asked, biting her lip.

Richard scowled at her and she made an apologetic expression. Her gaze traveled from his face to the charred remains of his glove, which were clinging loosely to—

Emily gasped. “Your hand!”

Blackened, smoking strips of leather fell away to reveal a rough gray surface which instantly brought to mind Aria and the other statues of Castle Elid. Captain Richard’s left hand was made of stone.

He sighed. “I suppose my secret’s out. No point trying to hide it anymore.” With this, he removed the intact glove from his right hand and rolled up both sleeves to the elbow, then held both arms out for Emily to examine.

Each hand was a granite statue in the likeness of a human hand, finely carved but maintaining the natural coarseness of the material. There was a slight mechanical nature to the way Richard moved his fingers, and as he waggled them for Emily, she noted the same look of concentration that she’d seen when he moved the Stoneshell. In retrospect, his violin-playing seemed even more impressive. Each hand terminated in a thick cuff below which Richard’s arms appeared normal.

“What happened to you?” Emily asked. She wondered if the way his hands had been turned to stone was in any way similar or applicable to how Aria had been turned to stone. Could he be of use in her quest to restore Aria to flesh?

Richard sat back down on the couch, looking tired, regarding Emily with an unreadable gaze. “You are not disgusted?”

“Some of my best friends are made of stone,” Emily replied, smiling gently.

Richard’s eyes flashed for the briefest moment before resuming their inscrutable expression. “I was born without hands,” he said, regarding his stony fingers. “I grew up in a workhouse, abandoned by my parents without ever knowing them. The other children mocked me. I was constantly berated for being slow and clumsy in my work, deprived of rations, and given the worst of everything.”

Emily could feel the bitterness in his words and it made her shudder.

“Anger at my treatment fueled me. It made me strong, cunning, resourceful. Over time, I learned to use my stumps, to overcome my limitations, to bend the world to my will.” Here, the fingers of Richard’s right hand clenched into a fist. “I transformed from an object of ridicule into something to be feared, once they learned that a stump could punch just as hard as a fist. The mockery stopped, was replaced with cold silences when I would enter a room.”

Richard stood up from the couch and began to pace across the room. “The masters of the workhouse noticed my effect on the other children. They called me cruel and arrogant. I suppose they were right. To punish me, they gave me harder, more solitary jobs, culminating in a week’s hard labor breaking rocks in the quarry.”

Richard’s eyes locked on Emily’s. “I could not have asked for a greater gift.” He curled and uncurled his fingers, and a small, smooth stone jumped from one of his coat pockets and hung suspended above his outstretched palm.

“Oh, it was difficult at first! The other boys were twice my size, and there I was, trying to swing a pickaxe between my two stumps. It was hopeless, really. After dark on the first day, I stood before the same rock I’d been trying to split all day, worn out and bruised. And I stared at it with such hateful intensity that it just… broke.”

The stone hovering in the air exploded into shrapnel, and Emily ducked reflexively, burying her head in the couch.

Richard laughed. “Do not worry, Emily, I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Emily tentatively raised her head. Small shards of stone hung suspended in the air, one mere inches from her face. Richard closed his hand, and they flew together again, reforming the smooth, round stone.

“I immediately repeated the feat with another rock. And another. Until I was absolutely certain that I could break through solid stone with the power of my mind. It took a few days before I discovered that I could move it as well, even reshape it.”

The round stone floating in the air between them reformed into a cube, and then a pyramid, and then a many-pointed star. Emily gazed upon it in wonder, her own training with the Stoneshell’s fire powers in the back of her mind.

“Once I was confident in my abilities, I left the workhouse. They gave chase, of course, but with a flick of my fingers, the road rose up to meet them.” The many-pointed star flattened out into a thin slab before twisting and roiling like a wave, and Richard grinned devilishly. He had been slowly edging back towards the couch throughout his story, and now took a seat once more, staring intently into Emily’s eyes.

“You understand,” said Richard softly. “I can see it in your eyes. And of course you would! You are a mistress of fire, I a master of stone. We have been set aside by fate for special purposes, great and terrible destinies.”

Emily felt the touch of cold stone on her fingers.

“We are two of a kind, you and I.” Richard’s fingers coiled around Emily’s, firm and rigid, and she felt his other hand against her side. “Conduits for the elements, brought together by fate.”

Before she quite knew what was happening, Richard’s lips were pressed against hers, and then his whole body was on top of her. He smelled of rum and burned leather. Emily went stiff with panic, eyes wide and staring.

Richard seemed not to notice—he held her firm in his arms. She felt the Stoneshell move against her chest and watched in horror as it began to change shape. As it flattened out, five tendrils of stone emerged from it, forming the shape of a hand. A pained scream echoed across Emily’s mind—the Stoneshell was in pain.

Then the hand stumbled forward, its stony fingers stabbing at her upper chest, moving lower, then prodding the softer flesh of her breasts. Richard grunted with pleasure. The tiny hand moved lower until its fingers were on the knot that tied the two bottom corners of her buttonless shirt together. With surprising dexterity and speed, it undid the knot.

That was enough. As if waking from a dream, Emily turned from rigid shock to squirming, trashing terror. “Get off!” she screamed, tearing her face from Richard’s and pushing against his chest. The Stoneshell glowed orange, still responsive to her thoughts in its altered state, and a ball of fire exploded between her and Richard for the second time that evening.

All at once, the weight was off her. Richard screamed in pain and stumbled backward, then tripped and rolled across the floor. At once, Emily was off the couch, on her feet, eyes flashing with anger. Her open shirt billowed around her, but she barely noticed. Plumes of flame hovered above both of her outstretched palms and she readied herself to strike.

“I wouldn’t do that!” Richard growled, scrambling to his feet. Smoke rose from his coat and beard, but he appeared mostly unharmed. “You’ll burn this whole ship up!”

“So what?!” Emily spat. “I don’t need your ship, you creep!”

“You may not, but your friend does.” Richard chuckled darkly, meeting Emily’s furious gaze with a smug look.

Emily’s anger was softened by confusion. “My friend?”

“Stone lady,” Richard continued. “Met her on a beach, not too far from here. She told us she was waiting there for her friend, a girl who had gone to visit the merfolk. Fiesty one, she was. There was a brief struggle. But she was made of stone. Fatal weakness.”

Emily felt sick to her stomach. “What did you do to her?!”

“She’s an honored and cherished guest aboard the Sea Serpent, just like yourself. Though we had to take precautions—can’t have her killing my men, now can I? No matter how much they’ll pay for a specimen like her in Altwern.”

“P-pay?!”

“Yes, pay. I was thinking of giving you a share, before that little outburst.”

The flames in Emily’s hands grew, filling the cabin with light. “You bastard!”

Richard cocked an eyebrow. “We are pirates, love. And again, I’ll warn you to be careful with that fire of yours. The wooden frame of this ship is all that stands between your friend and an eternity at the bottom of the ocean. I know a thing or two about stone and I can assure you—it doesn’t float.”

The fire in Emily’s hands went out and her arms slumped uselessly at her sides. The stone slab, which had been sitting on the dinner table, lifted up and flew towards her, hitting her in the wrist and knocking it back. Emily cried out at the sharp pain.

Another stone slab zoomed out of a set of shelving and hit her other wrist. Then both slabs began to reshape, encircling her wrists and moving them towards each other. The slabs connected, firmly pinning her hands behind her back.

Richard stepped towards her, smirking in triumph. His eyes slowly traveled up and down her body, reminding Emily that her top had come undone and now hung loosely at her sides, exposing both breasts. With her hands firmly secured behind her back, there was nothing she could do to cover them.

“I think it’s about time for a reunion,” Richard said, grabbing Emily’s upper arm. “I’m afraid you’ll find the holding cell a lot less comfortable than this cabin, but you must understand that I reserve this ship’s few comforts for guests who are a little more… pliant.”

Richard stared pointedly at Emily’s uncovered breasts and she scowled up at him. “That knot was just begging to be untied, you know. Don’t you think it was clever how I turned that shell—ho, what’s this?”

Richard’s attention had moved from Emily’s breasts to the stone pendant that hung between them. It was shaped, once more, like a seashell.

“So this is a magical necklace, then?” Richard asked. “The glow made me suspect it might be, but this confirms it. It would certainly explain why you were so defensive of it. And perhaps…” Richard took a step back and swept up the small book that Emily had left lying on her chair. “The Stoneshell,” he said, flipping through the pages. “Hmm… fire powers. How interesting.”

Richard took a step towards Emily, lifting a stone palm towards her. He clenched his fingers, and Emily felt a sharp pull at the back of her neck. Then there was a small, metallic snap as the chain around her neck unclasped.

Like a piece of metal drawn to a powerful magnet, the Stoneshell shot into Richard’s palm. He grinned toothily as his fingers closed around it, covering it entirely. “I’ll hold onto this for now.”

Emily tried to summon the Stoneshell, but she could feel a force working against her will. The Stoneshell’s influence on her mind, usually a calming, focusing effect, felt panicked and frightened.

“Haha, that tickles!” Richard said.

Emily spat in his face.

“Mule!” Richard cried, yanking her arm so hard it felt like he was trying to dislocate her shoulder.

Emily stumbled forward as Richard marched her out of his cabin and into the hallway. He forced her to walk ahead of them through the hallway and down narrow stairs. The lighting was dim, provided by sparsely placed lanterns, but this did little to conceal Emily from view.

A few times, they passed members of the crew. The solitary ones would leer at her chest, intently watching the movement of her breasts as Richard forced her ahead of him. The groups would catcall and make crude comments to each other.

“Been at sea so long I’d forgotten what those looked like.”

“Buoyant-looking, aren’t they?”

“My turn next, Cap’n!”

Richard ignored them, his face firmly set in a stern expression. Emily wished she could be half so oblivious, but the best she could do was stare at the floor, hiding her blushing cheeks.

As they descended further into the bowels of the ship, the air grew colder and damper, and Emily could feel goosebumps rising on her flesh. The sound of dripping water came to her ears.

Finally, they reached their destination—the ship’s holding cell. Richard pushed open the heavy iron door, hinges squealing in protest, and shoved Emily inside, deliberately pushing her off-balance. She tripped and her body slammed against the cold, hard stone floor.

The door slammed shut. Emily rolled over, wincing as pain shot through her shoulder. Her chest heaved from the rapid march, and her hair fell in front of her face and obscured her vision. The stone restraint still held her wrists firmly in place behind her back. Emily blinked back tears, refusing to break down.

“Who’s there?” someone asked.

The voice was unfamiliar and spoke with an accent Emily had not yet heard anywhere else in Thessolan. It was female and very high-pitched.

“Please,” continued the voice, weak and mournful, “can you do anything to help my friend? She’s not moving.”

With a grunt of effort, Emily rolled over again and hauled herself into a sitting position. With a bit more effort, she managed to stand—this was no easy feat with her hands stuck behind her back. She gazed into the darkness, and the outlines of shapes began to form as her eyes adjusted.

The speaker was a woman whom Emily took to be around the same age as herself, though about a head shorter. She had jet-black hair and dark brown eyes. More noticeable were her pointed ears and her skin, which was a light shade of green and criss-crossed with patterns of leaves. And there was quite a lot of green skin on display, for she was entirely naked.

The green woman gestured towards a tall shape in the corner. Emily recognized its silhouette immediately. The shape was Aria. And with the Stoneshell separated from Emily’s person, she was completely frozen. From the look on her face, she appeared to have been in mid-sentence.

Tears welled up in Emily’s eyes, and this time she couldn’t contain them. She fell to her knees, her whole body wracked in sobs, her throat twisted with cries of deep anguish.

Then she felt arms wrap around her and the warmth of another body against hers. The green girl’s skin was extraordinarily soft and smooth, and her hand made slow, soothing motions up and down Emily’s back. Emily wanted to return the embrace, but her arms were still immobile. So instead, she buried her face in the green girl’s shoulder.

This position was maintained until Emily felt all cried out, which took a while. She had a lot to cry about, after all—her displacement from everything and everyone she had ever known, the dangerous encounters she’d had with strange and evil people, the enormous burden that adopting the Stoneshell had laid upon her, her guilt at allowing Aria to once again become an immobile statue and the constant discomfort and shame of being naked in front of so many.

Maybe this green girl could empathize with her on some of those counts. Certainly the last one. She pulled away from the girl’s shoulder and looked her in the eyes.

“What’s your name?” asked Emily, her throat hoarse from crying.

“Talyndra of the Moss-Whisperers,” said the girl.

“I’m Emily. And as to whether I can help Aria, well, I do at least know what’s wrong with her.”

Talyndra’s face lit up, and she hugged Emily again. “You are Emily! How wonderful! Aria has told me so much about you.” She pulled away and looked searchingly at Emily’s chest. “But where is…”

“He took the Stoneshell,” Emily replied bitterly. “Richard, the pirate captain. He has some kind of magical power over stone.”

“Yes, yes, he cornered me on a stony beach,” said Talyndra. “That is the last time I venture so far from the woods. And he has prevented Aria from using her hands.” She gestured to Aria, whom Emily now noticed had her arms crossed over the front of her body, with the sleeves of her gown drawn up over her hands. It looked like she was wearing a straitjacket.

Emily and Talyndra shared their stories with each other, though Talyndra knew much of what had happened to Emily from Aria’s telling. Talyndra was a wood elf from a common family who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Wood elves were not often caught by human slavers, a fact she admitted with great shame. She had been caught long before Aria. In fact, she’d been on the ship for so long that the leaves of her outfit had rotted away. “This is not usually a problem for us, as we seldom leave our woods, and can refresh our outfits as often as we need to.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” said Emily, smiling sympathetically. “I’ve had a lot of trouble with clothing since I got to this world. Heck, this is, like, the second most complete outfit I’ve had in weeks, sad as that is.” She pouted as she glanced down at her exposed front.

Momentarily, Emily thought of asking Talyndra to tie the ends of her shirt in a knot again but then felt guilty about it. How could she ask Talyndra to help her preserve her modesty when the poor girl had nothing to wear herself? Instead, Emily voiced another thought that had just occurred to her. “How come your hands are free and mine and Aria’s aren’t?”

Talyndra smiled devilishly and gestured at a coil of rope piled in the corner of the cell. “I held my wrists slightly apart when they first captured me so that the rope would be loose. They have tried to tie my hands a few times since, but they have no appreciation for the suppleness of wood elf wrists.”

“Brilliant! Wish I could have done something like that against Richard’s stone magic, but these are stuck tight.” Emily grimaced as she made a futile attempt to move her wrists inside the stone restraints.

“Could you not use your own magic against him? Aria told me of the Stoneshell’s powers.”

“I…” Emily’s voice dried in her throat. Richard had caught her off-guard when he mentioned Aria, filled her mind with terror at the destructiveness of her own power. So much so that she had given up without a fight. Maybe she could have done better.

“N-never mind,” Talyndra said hastily, placing a comforting hand on Emily’s shoulder. “I’m hardly one to talk. A majestic wood elf, captured by brutish, lumbering humans—no offense.”

Emily cracked a smile. “But tell me what you really think.”

Talyndra and Emily talked long into the night, exchanging stories of their worlds, each of which was equally strange and fantastic to the other. Every now and then, Emily cast a sad glance at Aria, standing motionless in the corner, and wondered if she could hear them. Whatever it took, she would get the Stoneshell back.

When their yawns finally overtook their words, Emily and Talyndra retired to a pair of dirty, threadbare mattresses that lay at one end of the prison cell and attempted to sleep. With her hands still stuck behind her back, Emily had to lie on her front, which didn’t help matters. But eventually, sleep overcame her.

The next morning, Emily was awoken by jeers. The voice that spoke to them was cruel and coarse. “Eat up, curr! Get your face in it, you filthy animal!”

Staying motionless, careful to give any indication that she was awake, Emily peered carefully through the lids of one eye. In the center of the cell, Talyndra crouched on her knees, a ceramic bowl on the floor a few inches in front of her. She appeared to be making the best of a highly undignified position.

The source of the voice was a pirate who stood at the door, watching her intently. “Come on, eat! Let me hear you chew! Get that butt up in the air!” Talyndra flinched a few times but did not otherwise react to his taunts.

“The stone bitch is real quiet today, why is that?” the pirate asked. “The new girl too… what did you do to ’em, Elfy? Some woodland devilry, I’ve no doubt.”

Talyndra made no response.

An indistinct voice from somewhere above them shouted incoherently and a slightly panicked expression crossed the pirate’s face. “Can’t get a bloody moment,” he muttered under his breath before turning tail and slamming the cell door behind him.

Once the bolt had been drawn on the door and the pirate’s footsteps had disappeared, Talyndra arranged herself into a cross-legged sitting position. Balancing the bowl on her ankles, she reached for a discarded spoon. Then, looking Emily straight in the eyes, she said, “Ah, you’re awake. Sorry you had to see that.”

Emily sat up on the bed, trying to stretch before being instantly reminded that her arms were still stuck behind her by stone restraints around her wrists. Her arms and shoulders hurt considerably.

“Come sit here, I’ll feed you,” Talyndra said, picking up a second bowl and waggling the spoon.

Being spoonfed by Talyndra was a little weird for Emily, but it seemed preferable to sticking her face in the bowl like an animal. The bowl’s contents were some kind of thin and bitter gruel, quite unlike the dinner she’d shared with Richard the previous evening.

“I hate that man,” Talyndra ranted. “He’s always making me do these sorts of humiliating things for his amusement. Maybe next time I will try to be asleep as well.”

“But aren’t you afraid he might…”

Talyndra scoffed. “Oh, he is too afraid of the captain for that. All the crew are. And too superstitious about wood elves. Humans believe some crazy things about us. But in this case, it is to my benefit.”

Emily was prevented from asking about what any of those crazy beliefs were by a spoon of gruel slipping into her mouth. “Ulp!”

“We must figure out some way of summoning the Stoneshell, Emily,” Talyndra said. “Not only will it bring Aria back to us, but it is the key to our escape. You told me last night that you have summoned it to you in the past—that this is some special property of its Mer origin.”

“Yes,” said Emily. “I tried to summon it back after Richard took it from me, but his magic was too powerful. And now it is so far away… I don’t even know where it is!”

Talyndra looked Emily sternly in the eye. “Do not speak with such despair. You are the Stoneshell’s bearer. I know little of magical artifacts—we wood elves have no use for them—but I know that the chosen bearer of an artifact has a special connection to it, one that transcends time and space. Emily, it is clear to me that you were called out of your world by the Stoneshell. And if that is so, then to summon it from another deck of this ship should present no challenge.”

Emily frowned. For Talyndra to express her ignorance of magical artifacts and then confidently make wild conjectures about them in the same breath was quite absurd. But she wasn’t confident enough in her own knowledge of this world’s magic to offer any kind of rebuttal. If only she’d been able to read some of Zephyr’s book before it was taken from her!

“I will help you,” said Talyndra. “If you can see the Stoneshell, perhaps you will be able to move it. So I will help you to see it.”

“But how?”

“Watch.”

Talyndra closed her eyes and began to hum a simple melody. She raised her hands and started to trace lines through the air. Green light followed her fingers, and a picture began to form as the lines joined together. Then the picture began to grow, taking on a life of its own, as Talyndra’s humming increased in intensity. It took on the shape of a ship’s cross-section, with all the decks, corridors, and rooms detailed. Little points of light moved across the decks and through the corridors, while others sat motionless.

Emily’s eyes expanded to take it all in. “Wow, Talyndra, that’s amazing!”

“Mapping has always been a strength of mine,” Talyndra replied, having stopped humming for the moment. “Now, look closely, and tell me if you can see the Stoneshell. We are here.” Talyndra pointed at two glowing dots near the bottom of the ship.

Emily screwed up her eyes and peered at the map, trying to recall where the captain’s cabin was. After a moment, she felt her eyes being pulled towards one particular spot on the map, a room containing a single glowing dot—the captain’s cabin. “There,” she said, using her chin to point at the spot.

Immediately, silvery light in the outline of a seashell appeared at that spot on the map. Emily gasped.

“That wasn’t me,” Talyndra said. “But I think you’ve got it.”

“What about the captain?” Emily asked.

Talyndra glanced at the glowing dot next to the shell. “He’s asleep.”

Emily exchanged a skeptical glance with Talyndra but was met with only a reassuring nod.

“The map contains subtle details that only elf eyes can appreciate. Now, see if you can move the shell.”

Focusing on the silvery light, Emily held an image of the Stoneshell in her mind and willed it towards her. At first, the shell seemed not to react. But as Emily continued to stare, she thought she saw it move. It was almost imperceptible at first, but then undeniable.

“Haha, yes!” Talyndra cried, pumping a fist in the air. “Bring it here!”

The silvery shell outline slipped from the captain’s cabin and into the hallway. Emily maintained focus on it as she moved it along a winding route, across corridors and down staircases. Every time it came close to one of the moving dots, she froze, her heart jumping into her throat, and waited for the dot to move a safe distance.

Sweat beaded on Emily’s forehead, and she could feel that the effort was draining her, but she persisted, thinking of the stone statue behind her. It was amazing to her that she was even able to use the summoning power from such a distance.

Finally, after what felt like many hours and far too many close calls with pirates, the Stoneshell reached the door of their cell. Emily’s breaths came in short gasps, her energy nearly spent. But the sound of the Stoneshell clattering against the wooden door energized her and with one last mighty pull, she drew the Stoneshell up from the floor and through the bars in the window at the top of the door.

The stone pendant sailed into the cell, chain trailing behind it, and clattered onto the wooden floor just in front of where Emily had fallen to her knees in exhaustion.

“I did it,” Emily gasped, her eyes glued to the familiar stone pendant, hardly believing it was here with her again.

With a wave of one hand, Talyndra dispelled the map. She scooped up the Stoneshell and, beaming from ear to ear, brought it to Emily’s neck and fastened the clasp behind her. The familiar weight felt good against Emily’s skin.

The moment the Stoneshell’s chain clasped around Emily’s neck, Aria’s stone form shuddered. Particles of dust fell from Aria’s frame as she moved, stumbling forward, eyes wide and rapidly blinking.

“Aria!” Emily exclaimed, rushing to her friend’s side.

Aria looked around, confusion giving way to recognition. “Emily? Is that really you?” Her voice was weak but filled with relief. “Talyndra? What happened?”

Emily attempted to wrap her arms around Aria but was quickly reminded of the stone restraints that bound her wrists. “Long story short, I’ve been captured by pirates, just like you two. But I’m so happy to see you again, Aria.”

Aria blinked a few more times, still clearly disoriented. “How was your meeting with the Merfolk? Did you learn anything useful?”

Emily told Aria the story of everything that had happened to her in Aquius, and all that had transpired since, with Talyndra chipping in at the very end.

“We have to get that book back,” said Aria. “As long as the captain has it, he knows more about the Stoneshell than we do. From what you’ve told me, he sounds like a formidable mage. I shudder to think of what use he might put such knowledge to.”

“Well it’s not going to matter, because I’ve got the Stoneshell back now,” Emily said defiantly. “And I’m definitely not going to let him trick me again.”

“Are you hoping to distract him with your breasts?” asked Aria.

“What? Oh!” Emily glanced down, reminded for the first time in a while that her shirt was hanging open. “That… I didn’t mean to wear it like this. It was his doing. I just can’t fix it with my hands tied behind my back.”

“I see,” said Aria, winking. “It is nice to see you mostly dressed, Emily. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Emily blushed. “I’m, err, hoping to make a habit of it.”

“Oh Emily!” cried Talyndra. “Why didn’t you say anything? Here, let me fix it for you.”

Talyndra pulled the two bottom corners of the shirt in her hands and tied them together, much as Emily had done in the first place. Emily breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her. “I felt bad asking you, considering you’re, well…”

Talyndra glanced down at her body and shrugged. “Can’t be helped. I’ll find something when we escape.”

Emily cocked an eyebrow and cast Aria a meaningful look. “When?” she repeated.

“You have the Stoneshell now,” Talyndra said, pointing at the pendant. “Use its magic and get us out of here.”

Darkness clouded Emily’s brows. “It’s not that simple,” she said. “The Stoneshell creates fire. It’s… difficult to control. If I start throwing fire around indiscriminately, I could burn this whole ship up. You would drown, and Aria would be trapped at the bottom of the ocean!”

Talyndra nodded solemnly. “I understand. But can you not use a small amount of fire? A few controlled blasts. Just enough to burn through the door and take out any pirates who get in our way.”

Emily bit her lip and exchanged glances with Aria.

“You have been developing more control in our recent sessions,” said Aria. “I’m sure you’re capable of what Talyndra suggests.”

“Maybe,” replied Emily. “But it’s difficult even in a no-pressure training situation. This is way higher stakes. And what’s more, I don’t know how I’m going to blast pirates out of our way with my hands stuck behind my back.” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis.

Aria’s eyes widened and she started muttering to herself. “Oh my. This whole time… why didn’t I think of that? What a silly mistake…”

“What are you talking about, Aria?”

Aria laughed her musical, wind-chime laugh. “Oh Emily, I’ve just realized that we’ve been training all wrong! No, no, don’t give me a look like that, it’s a good thing!”

“How is it a good thing?” Emily yelled.

“Up until now, I’ve been instructing you to summon fire from the Stoneshell into your hands. But that’s not the only way you can use the Stoneshell’s power. You can summon its fire anywhere on your person, you certainly don’t have to use your hands!”

Emily gasped. “You mean… wait, okay, I have an idea. Stand back, Talyndra.”

Talyndra did as instructed while Emily turned to face the door of the cell. The Stoneshell felt warm against her skin as she began to summon its flame. With a series of deep, deliberate, and carefully measured breaths, she drew the flame from the Stoneshell and into her chest, into her lungs, and up, up, up. Warmth surged up through her throat.

Then she breathed out.

A jet of bright orange flame burst from Emily’s mouth, aimed directly at the door. Talyndra jumped even further back, putting a forearm in front of her face to shield it from the heat.

Once the breath had fully left Emily’s lungs, the fire stopped. There was now an enormous, smoldering hole in the middle of the door. Emily smiled back at the other two, tendrils of smoke rising from her nostrils. “Never thought I’d take up smoking.”

“I’d advise against it,” said a stern, very familiar male voice. “The ashes get everywhere.”

Standing just beyond the destroyed cell door was Captain Richard, smiling haughtily and holding a book in his right glove. He lifted his left and opened his palm towards Emily.

This time, she was ready. She felt the Stoneshell rise from her chest but stopped it from moving further by focusing on it, bending her knees, and rooting herself to the floor.

Richard grimaced, made a straining noise, and then gave up, allowing the Stoneshell to fall back against Emily’s chest.

“You’re not doing that again,” Emily snarled.

“Perhaps not,” Richard replied. “But, as we discussed earlier, it would be terribly tragic if you allowed your little necklace to destroy this ship. The statue and the elf certainly wouldn’t survive, and you’d have only yourself to blame.”

“Shut up!”

Richard raised the book in his hand and flipped through its pages. “I’ve been doing some reading about this Stoneshell of yours. A powerful and special artifact it is. In the right hands… well, the possibilities are endless. And did you know it was a betrothal gift?”

“What’s this got to do with anything?” Emily didn’t like the funny look on Richard’s face.

“Oh, it just means that to unlock the true power of the Stoneshell, the bearer must… consummate. Then the Stoneshell’s power will extend to both.”

Emily deepened her stance and narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to say, exactly?”

The book snapped shut and Richard bowed his head to step through the hole in the door. With a small shriek, Talyndra jumped behind Aria, covering herself with her arms. Emily readied herself for a fight.

But instead of attacking, Richard got down on one knee. “Dearest Emily, I want to give you the world. Together, we could rule an empire. I feel a powerful bond with you, and I know you feel it too. Emily, would you offer me your hand in marriage?”

Emily’s jaw dropped.

“Oh! How foolish of me!” Richard said. “How can you offer me your hand when… let me fix that for you.”

With a small gesture from Richard’s chin, Emily felt the stone restraints holding her wrists behind her back crumble into dust. She sighed with relief and brought her hands in front of her, rubbing the stiffness out of each wrist in turn.

“Now, let me try that again.” Richard pulled off his leather gloves, exposing his granite hands.

“Your hands!” Aria exclaimed. Talyndra peeked out from behind her back.

Richard ignored the other two, having only eyes for Emily at that moment. He reached out and grasped her hands in his. “Emily. Would you be my wife?”

A burst of flame exploded between them, knocking Richard back against the wall.

“Does that answer your question?” Emily wondered how many times she would need to do this before Richard finally got the message.

Richard drew himself up and dusted off his clothes. He gazed at Emily blankly, but soon cracked into a smile. “I suppose that is to be expected. I’m disappointed, of course. But I have a second proposal.”

Emily had already summoned fireballs in both her hands.

“So feisty! I do love a feisty woman. And I’m sure you’ll love this.”

“Out with it, then.”

“I’m a sporting man. I may be a pirate, but I live by a code of honor. I treat my crew well, and they will die fighting for me. You will sooner burn down this ship than get them to surrender.” He emphasized this final sentence with a pointed look at the fire in Emily’s hands. “I don’t think you’re a killer, Emily. I’ve met killers.”

Emily hardened her expression. She couldn’t let him see how much he was getting to her.

“So let’s not do anything we may live to regret. Instead of attacking me and destroying both my ship and your friends, I propose we fight a duel. Magic, of course.”

“A magic duel!” Aria repeated. “It has been many years since I last witnessed a magic duel.”

Richard cast Aria a fleeting glance before turning back to Emily. “Well, aren’t you lucky? Here are the terms of our duel: a one-on-one battle between myself and you, Emily. If you win, I will give you and your friends your freedom, and control of my ship. You will become the new captain.”

Emily allowed the fireballs to dissipate slightly as she considered this.

“If I win, you will give me your hand in marriage.”

Emily scoffed. “What? You’re joking.”

“I never joke about matters of the heart. Consider it, Emily. Win or lose, your friends will survive. Reject the offer, and… well, it won’t be pretty for any of us.”

“I c-can’t believe you’re just asking me to burn you to a crisp,” Emily said, a crack in her voice betraying the smug tone she was going for.

Briefly, Richard looked confused, then stated matter-of-factly, “Lirethel rules, of course.”

“That means the duel ends after one combatant falls over,” Aria interjected.

Richard’s eyes sparkled. “I wouldn’t want to do anything to spoil my prize, now would I?”

Emily made a face.

“On the contrary, think of it as friendly sparing. We’ll go multiple rounds, to avoid either of us winning or losing by fluke.”

“How many rounds?” asked Talyndra, poking her head out from behind Aria. There was a look of excitement in her eyes.

Richard smiled impishly. “That’s the best part. A little addition I just now thought of, inspired by you, my green lady.” He steepled his fingers, chuckling at his own brilliance. “The loser of each round will remove an item of clothing. The duel ends when one is fully naked.”

Emily sighed deeply, clasping the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Of course that was Richard’s brilliant idea, something involving nudity. Her luck in this world seemed to run in a single direction.

“The crowd is going to love it.” Richard clapped his stone hands together with a loud bang. “I’ll give you some time to think it over. Have an answer for me when I return.”

With that, the captain turned on his heel and climbed out of the cell through the hole in the middle of the door, whistling a jaunty tune.

Once he was gone, Emily exchanged a long, thought-laden glance with the others.

“Emily… you don’t have to—” Aria began.

Emily raised a hand for silence and turned her face away from her friend. She had already made her decision.