Chapter Twenty-One
Whenever Emmaline’s mind wandered, she always found her way to the ship’s rail.
She stood there now, her crossed arms resting on the wooden beam, watching the sun dip below the horizon and turn the waters orange.
It was their last night at sea. Tomorrow, they would dock, make arrangements to bring the supplies up the mountain, and be another step closer to home.
“Good evening, princess,” a deep voice said behind her.
She turned to find a young man with reddish-gold hair and refined features.
He stood with his back straight, chin slightly tilted, and arms clasped behind him.
Finnegan Blake, a gentleman merchant, and Echo’s newest persona.
The nickname rolled off his tongue smoothly, no trace of Echo’s mischief, as if he was truly greeting royalty.
“Good evening, Mr. Blake,” she replied, dipping into a short, perfunctory curtsey. “What brings you out on the deck on this fine night?”
“I heard a rumor there would be music,” he replied, a twinkle in his deep green eyes. “The crew is celebrating something, I believe.”
My departure, Emmaline didn’t say. They both knew that once the ship made landfall, she would head up the mountains, while he headed … well, she wasn’t sure what Echo’s next mission would be. When she’d asked, they’d simply clucked their tongue and scolded her for trying to steal their secrets.
“Would you care to dance, my lady?” he asked, offering his hand.
At that cue, music began playing in the background. It was slower than what they’d danced to before, belonging in a ballroom rather than on a ship of rowdy sailors. He’s really getting into his role. Giggling, she accepted his hand. “I’d be delighted.”
Echo—Finnegan—settled his other hand on Emmaline’s waist and whirled her toward the clear spot on deck designated for the dance floor.
Though she didn’t know the dance, he led her expertly through each step, gracefully weaving between the other couples.
“Where did you learn how to dance?” She wasn’t sure who would answer, the actor or the character. She hoped it would be the truth.
“My mother,” he replied. “When she was a girl, she liked all sorts of stories—with villains and heroes, magic and swordplay. For some reason, of all the things she admired, she decided to learn how to dance.” He grimaced playfully.
“Imagine having the choice of learning how to cast magic or fight with a sword but in the end choosing to learn how to sway to a beat.”
“We’re doing more than swaying,” Emmaline replied as he spun her in an elegant twirl.
He hummed in agreement, then settled her in his arms again. “She gave up her love of adventure before having me, more’s the pity, but she never gave up her love of dancing.”
Emmaline thought of everything leading her to that moment—all the deceit, treachery, and bloodshed. “She may have a point. I’m not sure a life of adventure is for me either.”
He looked into her eyes and even though they were unfamiliar to her, she knew it was Echo staring back. “I know, that’s why I …”
The song ended and Echo didn’t finish their sentence. They stood frozen in the middle of the dance floor until Silas approached them and asked, “May I cut in?”
Echo bowed and passed Emmaline to him, then walked away from the dance floor entirely.
“I hope I’m not overstepping,” Silas said as he guided Emmaline into the next dance.
She forced her lips into a smile. “No! Of course not. I’m happy to practice what I’ve learned with a new partner.”
Silas’ lips quirked and he said, “I’m not as good as your last one, I’m afraid. I haven’t danced in years.” Just as he finished speaking, he accidentally stepped on her foot. A blush tinged his ears, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “My apologies.”
She laughed even as her toes stung. “At least now I won’t feel bad when I inevitably do the same!”
They danced without conversation for several turns until Silas finally said, “Your mother would understand if you chose not to return home.”
Emmaline’s eyes widened in shock. “What do you mean?”
“If you wanted to stay here on the ship,” he said gently. “Become one of Captain Moira’s crew.”
She searched for Echo, but they were nowhere in sight.
Sighing, she turned back to Silas. “I want to go home. I miss Mama terribly and need to see for myself that she’s safe.
Even if I didn’t …” She sighed. “I’m not ready for this life, Silas.
If I really wanted to join Moira’s crew”—if I wanted to hunt down my father and ensure he never hurt anyone again—“I’d need to earn my keep. ”
“Medics are useful,” Silas replied.
“Fully trained medics are useful,” she corrected. “I’m a half-trained medic who has barely learned how to manifest a mental shield to defend herself.”
He watched her carefully for a moment before asking, “So, what do you plan to do?”
She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “I’m going to finish my medic training, and then I’m going to have Mama teach me magic. How to summon storms and other ways to protect myself.” And to protect others.
Silas smiled, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Maybe you’ll inherit your mother’s title one day. The Witch will strike fear in the hearts of villains everywhere for another generation.”
Emmaline didn’t necessarily want people to fear her, but she understood the value of her mother’s reputation.
“It’ll take years though,” he added quietly.
She pursed her lips and nodded once. ‘Years’ may be a generous timeline. Most mages spent decades studying their craft.
The song ended and they parted. “Thank you for the dance, Em. Now, why don’t you go spend some time with your pirate.”
Before you part ways tomorrow. He didn’t say the words, but Emmaline heard them anyway.
It didn’t take very long to find Echo. He stood at the same rail where he’d found her earlier, gazing out at the horizon. “I want to ask you to stay,” he said without looking at her, “but I already know your answer.”
“So ask me something else,” she replied, stepping up next to him, brushing her shoulder against his.
He turned to look at her. The glamour remained the same, but she could no longer think of him as Finnegan. He would always be her Echo. He raised a hand to her cheek and whispered, “Can I kiss you?”
After all his outrageous flirting, the simplicity of the question surprised her. She smiled up at him and teased, “All right, I suppose you may have one kiss, Mister Blake.”
His lips quirked, then he leaned forward and tentatively brushed his smiling lips against hers. A light, tender kiss, as sweet as any storybook. “Hmm,” he said as he pulled away. “That’s not quite how I imagined it.”
Emmaline’s eyebrows bunched together in a mix of anxiety and offense. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Here,” he said, then removed a golden hoop from his ear.
Instantly, Echo’s features shifted, their hair turning pale blond, their eyes transforming from green to hazel.
“Let me try that again.” They wrapped an arm around Emmaline’s waist and pulled her tight against them.
This time, when their mouth descended on hers, there was nothing light or sweet about the kiss.
It was hard and claiming, their tongue pushing past her lips to tangle with hers.
By the time they pulled apart, Emmaline was breathless and a little dazed.
“Better?” they asked with a smirk.
“I don’t know,” Emmaline replied, the words barely audible. “You might need to try again.”
“Perhaps as a woman?” they suggested. One of their hands left Emmaline, and then they shrank to her height and smirked at her from their favorite lady persona. “So you can have the full experience?”
Delighted, Emmaline giggled and leaned forward to kiss first the lady’s right cheek, then her left, before dropping a quick kiss onto her lips. After peppering her with kisses, she hummed thoughtfully. “You know, I think I like the real you best.”
The glamour dropped away and Echo grinned at her. “I always knew you had excellent taste, princess.”
“Not a prince—” They cut off her protest with another kiss. She wrapped her arms around their neck and held them close.
When they finally parted to take a breath, Echo leaned their forehead against Emmaline’s. “We’ll see each other again,” they promised. “Even if I have to search the whole mountain range for you.”
Emmaline gazed into their hazel eyes and smiled sadly. “I know. When that day comes, no matter what you look like, I’ll recognize you,” she promised, caressing their cheek. “I’ll know you by your eyes.”
Echo snorted and said, “Or because I’m the only one who calls you princess.”
Emmaline shook her head in exasperation even as she smiled. “That too. Now, are you going to brood all night, or are we going to dance?”
“I can do both,” they said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back toward the dance floor.
As Echo led her in another dance, Emmaline knew she would miss nights like this, but she didn’t regret her choice.
Emmaline wanted to see her mother again, but she knew she would see her father again. And when that day came, she needed to be strong enough to face him. To make sure he, and any other villains like him, could never hurt her or her loved ones again.