Chapter Twelve #2
“Maybe I missed you lot, that’s all,” I said, giving him a cheeky smile.
“Missed us! What with Captain Martin needin’ your attention to various and sundry matters night and day? I doubt that. And weren’t we only lately involved in a terrifying skirmish with the Eloise? And I thank you once again for saving our hides.”
As if on cue, Lahiri came down the steps and made his way over to me.
“Captain’s looking for you.”
“Blast. Can’t he leave me be for a few hours?” I groused.
There was laughter.
“What’s the matter, White? Your arsehole busted?”
More laughter.
I gave a rude gesture to the person speaking.
“My arsehole is fine. Fresh as a daisy and ready for more, as usual.”
“Jesus. Why don’t you put a sign out?” someone muttered.
“Nah. I wouldn’t want to waste myself on you, would I?”
“I heard our resident reformed whore had an invite to the wedding chamber,” said Hale.
I bristled.
“His name is Domingo, and perhaps he did. He’s a friend of ours, so why not?”
“Didn’t realize the captain was running a bawdy house out of his cabin.”
“He ain’t. For fuck’s sake, can’t we have a little fun without narrow-minded comments?”
“Surely, surely.” Hale said, holding up his hands. “What the fuck do I care?”
“Simon White.” My name was spoken in familiar and stern tones from the stairs.
“Fuck,” I said, closing my eyes, and letting Pearl lick at my face whilst I pretended not to hear him.
“He’s over here, Captain. Playing with the mongrel.”
“Traitor,” I whispered to Lahiri.
The captain’s head and shoulders appeared in my line of sight.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m relaxing. What are you doing?”
“Looking for you. I believe we had an appointment.”
Hoots of laughter echoed in the hold. Captain Martin held up his hand, and the sound ceased.
“For a discussion.”
“Is that what they’re calling a hearty fuck these days?” one of the men asked.
“Simon. Are you avoiding me?”
“Of course not. I’m playing with my dog that you gave me as a gift. You wouldn’t want her to be neglected.”
The captain looked at the men gathered nearby.
“Who might be available to look after this dog for the next few hours?”
Several hands went up. I narrowed my eyes and glared at all of them.
“Fine.” I stood and passed the puppy to Squid. “You look after her.”
I turned to the captain, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll come with you, and we can discuss what we’d planned. But I ain’t promising more.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Ever since the rude and terrifying conclusion to our adventures with Domingo, I’d felt cowed and tired and sour. Being haunted by a terrifying sea creature that may or may not be a product of my own imaginings was not helping my attitude.
“Come on, then,” Dinesh said, ushering me out of the hold.
Instead of turning toward our rooms, however, he led me up on deck.
“Wanting to minimize the damage?” I asked.
“What?”
“Well, if this experiment goes wrong up here, at least our chambers won’t be destroyed.”
“If the attempt goes wrong, we shall have more to worry about than the state of our rooms.”
“Aye,” I agreed. I spread my hands out. “Then what are we doing? Is this worth the risk?”
He led me to the quarterdeck and leaned against the mast. “These powers of yours. They are causing you a degree of mental upset. We need to see if you can gain more control so you won’t be wielding such an unpredictable defence. Do you agree?”
“Aye, but—”
“Yes?”
A chill went through me. “What if it backfires?”
“Rooster. You’ve done it before.”
“Twice. I did it two times. In desperate circumstances. I don’t know if I can do it again…”
“Well. That’s what we need to find out.”
I did not feel good about this, but I knew he was right.
“Shouldn’t we warn them?” I asked.
“Who?”
“The crew. Everyone.”
Dinesh shrugged. “That will only worry them. We’re going to do this. If your attempt ends badly, well, there’s nothing we can do about that. I’m betting you’ll succeed.”
“You’re betting I’ll succeed! What about me?”
“I suppose you’d better hope I’m right.” He stood and came toward me, standing directly in front of me, his gaze boring into mine. “Look, Rooster. I have confidence in you.”
“At least one of us does.”
He was right though. He was asking me to do this. I should be able to do it. I was scared, and that was understandable. But at some point, I needed to take responsibility for this strange ability of mine. I needed to learn how much control I had over the magic, if I had any at all.
Only I didn’t know how to begin. In all the circumstances so far in which I’d called upon my powers, I’d been stressed and horrified and worried that either I was going to die, or someone close to me was going to perish.
Or both. So I’d been in a state of agitation.
Perhaps I needed to summon anger or unease as a first step.
I straightened my back and took a deep breath. Dinesh stepped away and watched me with caution. I closed my eyes.
I tipped my head to the sky and brought to mind the swirling storms I’d summoned in the past. Dark clouds and lightning, a maelstrom of violence. I thought back to watching the crew of an attacking ship shoot Donatello at close range, with Dinesh nearby.
The outrage was immediate. I recalled how upset I’d been, how worried about the life of the captain, and the rest of the crew. But mostly the captain. We’d only recently come together, but he’d already made a significant impression on me. I hadn’t as yet been aware of the impact I’d made upon him.
I recalled the desperate feeling when we’d escaped from Cayonne. And then the fear of the violent storm that had assailed us after we’d thought ourselves safe and away, when I had been able to call down my powers with some intention.
And most recently, the ambush on the Eloise.
How frightened I’d been at the docks in Cayonne, and how enraged that the memories of a wonderful evening at the Turnkey with Domingo had been besmirched by a violent attack. The fear as well, of my friends being hurt or killed, as we tried to row the skiffs away.
An invisible flame coursed through me. The magic was there, inside me, ready to be summoned now. I visualized the power flowing along my limbs and into the palms of my hands.
I opened my eyes.
A storm gathered above me. Purple and cobalt clouds, swirling directly overhead.
I looked at the captain.
He stood there, his hand on the mast, gazing at me with something like awe. He nodded and tried to smile as if he was unable to say the words I needed to hear.
That’s right. You’re doing fine.
So I pretended he had said them.
That’s right. You’re doing fine.
I closed my eyes and tipped my face upwards. I lifted my palms and splayed my fingers. I remembered the words to the chant, and spoke them:
“Bring me the fire and the flame,
O’er the ocean, in my name.
Give me the lightning and the storm,
From the heavens, let it be borne.”
I recalled the next part of the verse spoke to wanting to smite my enemies, and we were not being attacked at the moment. What might occur if I only spoke the first verse?
The energy swirled inside me—a warm glow in my belly, radiating outward to my limbs, not completely unlike the sensations I experienced whilst under Dinesh’s erotic spell, but stronger and without any lustful component.
I opened my eyes again and gazed upwards.
The storm raged directly over me. The wind whipped my hair and assailed my skin.
I caught the scent of imminent rain and a coming deluge.
A drop of rain landed in my eye, making the lid squeeze shut and causing me to turn my face down.
After a moment, I looked at Dinesh, blinking the rainwater away as the torrent coursed down my face.
The captain stared at the roiling clouds over my head without distress, his expression one of fascination instead.
The rain fell on him, but he didn’t appear to mind. He lowered his gaze to mine and we stared at each other for several moments, until the heat in my palms became too much and, instinctively, I doused the flame.
The clouds and the lightning and the rain folded themselves up as if in a pop-up book that had suddenly closed. White clouds drifted in a calm blue sky.
I was soaked from the rain, and so was Captain Martin.
We gazed at each other, and then he smiled and ran to catch me up in his embrace.
“Rooster, you did it! You did it!”
I couldn’t help but grin as he lifted me and swirled me around, holding me close. I became aware of the muttering of crewmen nearby who must have seen a little of what had happened.
Dinesh let me go and stepped back. He grabbed my wrists, turning my palms up. They were only a bit red.
“Do they burn?”
“No. They’re a bit itchy, that’s all.”
I turned them back and forth, still amazed by the fact that the heat had vanished so quickly. I had summoned my powers again, and I had somehow remained in control the entire time. Nothing destructive had occurred, so I was relieved.
Wise to stop the incantation when I had. And perhaps the key was only using that final verse when we were threatened.
I thought about the words I’d left out:
Smite those who threaten what’s mine.
They’ll not have anyone this time.
Let the sea and the flame rejoice.
Let the ocean and sky make the choice.
Perhaps the words were the key. But I had so many questions.
Could I replace the word ‘smite’ with something a bit less…destructive? If I left out the final two lines, would that make a difference? If I changed the words, would that have any effect?
The idea was something to think on.
At the moment, I was dizzy with the impact of my success. I could hardly believe my triumph, after all.
“How are you feeling? Did the incantation tire you overmuch?” Dinesh asked.
“No. I feel all right, actually. Could use a cup of tea though.”
Dinesh laughed and clapped a hand on my back, whilst the men around us applauded and praised me.
“Well done, lad!”
“Amazing talent.”
“Unbelievable. If I hadn’t seen it with me own eyes…”
The captain took my hand.
“I shall get you your cup of tea. We need to tell Domingo and Guthrie and Squid and all the others.”
“Aye,” I said, letting him lead me, lightheaded with the implications of what had happened.
What I’d done.
What I’d been able to do.
***
“You called your powers down without us even noticing?” Domingo exclaimed, gazing about him at the galley as if surprised that the space was all of a piece and not disturbed.
“Well, I only called down a few clouds and some rain,” I muttered, uncomfortable with all the attention.
“The entire scene was tremendous,” Dinesh said, his eyes full of admiration and pleasure. “Rooster was in control the entire time. And his palms are barely red. Show them.”
I obediently lifted my hands and showed them my palms, which were not red at all now. I brought them close to examine them. “Well, not anymore.”
“Eh, that’s wonderful, Simon,” Mr Guthrie said, giving me a pat on the arm. “Tea, did you say? Coming right up!”
“Aye.”
“You all right?” Domingo asked.
I rubbed at my forehead. “Fine. In body, anyway.”
“Tired?”
“Not overly. Simply…overwhelmed by the thought of what I was able to do. My mind is…going places I’d rather not revisit, that’s all.”
They gazed at me with concern.
“Never mind. I’ll be all right,” I said, with a blitheness I didn’t particularly feel but was determined to fake.
***
Whilst disrobing for bed later that evening, I admitted something to the captain.
“I feel like… I feel like I should have tried to control my powers long ago. And then perhaps I would have been able to wield them with more preciseness when…” I trailed off, staring at the wall, remembering.
Dinesh came over and took my hands in his.
“No. Don’t you dare. How could you have?”
I shrugged. “You saw what I was able to do. And the whole procedure…truly wasn’t even that difficult…”
“Simon,” he said. “You’ve no one to train you in this…art…or skill…or whatever I should call your abilities. Perhaps your mother could have, when you’d gotten older. Perhaps she meant to. Only…”
“Aye,” I said, blinking back tears. “She never got the chance.”
“No,” he agreed.
I had told him long ago about my mother.
How she had had powers of some kind, but my horrible father had murdered her in their bed, and when I’d woken and discovered his dark deed, the flame had risen in me for the first time, and I’d destroyed everything—my mam’s cold corpse, my father, the house we’d lived in.
I’d been the only one left standing.
“Simon, what’s done is done. Leave the past alone. You can’t change what’s already happened.”
He was right. Still…