Pieces of Jade (Pirates of Orea) (11 page)

“Maybe
I
can get it back,” I said quietly. “The wards won’t detect me.”

“Now you're talking reason.” Dorian rubbed his hands together. “I have to take you with me, anyway. I’m delivering you personally to the king.”

I shuddered.

James must have told his father the truth. The king had always seemed to hate me. I’m sure his mouth practically watered at having an excuse to order my death. He’d probably want the joy of killing me himself, of making an example of me. I could almost hear his words about how no one is above our laws and morals. Words that sounded eerily like James’s had.

“I promise to help you get the medallion back and then return to the kingdom with you,” I vowed. “Then you can personally take me to the king for your reward.”

Dorian's eyes lit up, but the rest of his face was still cautious. He pursed his mouth as if considering. “Will you make a blood oath on it?” If broken, a magically sealed blood oath would kill the person who hadn’t fulfilled their end of the bargain.

“Yes, gladly. If you swear on that oath to keep Pearl safe.”

He gave me a quick nod.

Dorian wasn’t gentle when squeezing the cut on my palm, twisting my still bound hands awkwardly. It didn’t take much to make it bleed again, since he’d recently re-opened the wounds. Still, it hurt. I managed not to whimper and closed my eyes, forcing my mind away from the present, away from the pain. When I opened them again I watched Dorian slice his own palm without so much as a flinch, and put it against mine.

We each made our promises and then I murmured the spell that bound us to the oath. When the ritual was complete, a clap of magical thunder burst around us. Dorian pulled his hand away and wiped it on the folds of his dark cloak. “We have three months. That's how long they gave me to find you.”

I nodded. “Then let’s go. Will you please untie me? I won’t cause any problems.”

He held up his still bloody palm. “I guess I can trust you now.” He cut me loose and helped me to my feet. My legs threatened to give out but I managed to stay upright. I felt like a piece of dough that had been kneaded too long. Everything hurt, from my stinging palms to my throbbing neck where he’d choked me. After wrapping my palms in handkerchiefs, I bent and returned everything to my satchel.

“What’s our destination?” I asked.

“
Castleport. It’s the nearest town and I’ve heard they have a witch.”

The witch in
Castleport? That was exactly where Lady Meredith had wanted me to go, and the letter she’d entrusted me with still lay hidden in my blouse. She’d said it was important. After the risk she’d taken for me, the least I could do was deliver it for her. And if the witch could be trusted, maybe she could help ensure Pearl’s safety. Besides, I had no choice but to go with Dorian now. Our fates were intertwined for the time being.

He pulled himself onto his horse. “I’ll ride; you walk.”

“Could I have some water?” I licked my chapped lips. “Please.”

He frowned as he handed me his canteen. “One sip.” I took a long, greedy drink and bit back a sigh when he forced it out
of my hands.

I really hoped
it hadn’t been a mistake to bind myself to this Hound. But if I wanted to save Pearl, what choice did I have? I’d do anything to save my sister.

Chapter 10

As I trudged beside Dorian with the sun beating down on me, I found myself surprisingly grateful to be headed toward the pirate ship again. Maybe I could find a way to not only retrieve the medallion, but to make the captain pay for all of the misery he’d caused. I could actually carry out my threat. This dark thought kept me moving.

Dorian rode in silence, only breaking it to order me to keep up. The sun hung low in the sky when we arrived at the distant outskirts of a town. A
savage
town. My suddenly sweaty palms had nothing to do with the heat. Were we really going to simply walk into the morally decrepit village? Shouldn’t Dorian have his sword drawn? I suggested that to him and he snorted in response.

As we drew near, I peered at the town curiously, but from my vantage point I couldn't see more than blurs of color. I didn’t know what I’d expected to find but it wasn’t this. It looked so normal, neither savage nor depraved. The town was not as sophisticated as an
Orean one would be, but it wasn’t a habitat for barbarians either.

The homes were simply made, but sturdy. Despite the arid environment, everything was kept neat, clean, and well cared for. Dorian seemed to know his way and I followed beside him.

The people stared as we passed. Dorian stood out with his fine horse and tack. A few sent suspicious glares at him before returning to their various tasks.

I was grateful they couldn’t see my eyes. They would know my identity right away and I feared they would tear me limb from limb for a drop of my blood. I put a hand on Dorian’s horse, knowing the
Hound would keep me alive. At least, for now.

We stopped in front of a cottage situated in the heart of town. Gooseflesh prickled up my arms as I studied the house. Something about the house was different. It had the same faded wood, tilting slightly to the side, as the ones surrounding it, but it somehow felt different. Was I
feeling
magic?

“Go knock on the door,” Dorian ordered. The magic didn’t seem to disturb him in the slightest. “I’m going to see to my horse.”

Sweat trickled down my back and my palms were clammy as I knocked. Dorian stood by his horse and checked the cinches on its saddle. I found myself wishing he were beside me. Scuffling noises came from the other side of the door, and I took a step back, my courage failing. With a squeak, the door opened.

A woman stood there, wearing a worn cloak, her face hidden in the folds of its hood. I thrust her the note, unable to speak. She took it in hand, and her fingers paused before she unfastened the seal with a lacquered nail and began to read, bringing it closer to her face.

She poked her head out of her door and glanced up and down the street before she motioned for me to come inside. I stepped over the threshold and glanced around the tiny, dusty home. Aside from a pot-bellied heater and a wooden rocking chair it was empty. She didn’t speak, but walked down a short hallway and then veered to the left. Doors were open on the floor and an unstable looking ladder rose between them. She climbed down the ladder into a pitch-black cellar until the light of the hallway no longer reached her and she vanished from sight. I hesitated at the top.

“Follow me quickly,” her voice called up from the gloom.

It didn’t make sense to follow a witch into the dark. I would be stupid to, and yet I trusted Lady Meredith. That faith gave me the courage to descend.

Something snapped and lights blazed to life when my feet touched the ground. My eyes widened as I took in my surroundings. I was in the middle of a thriving garden, where a man on his knees was pulling weeds. The place felt cheerful and alive—hardly what I’d expected for a witch. Through some enchantment, it felt like the sun surrounded us, touching the plants, flowers and trees. They were identical to the ones I could spy from my bedroom window at the palace.
The ones that my blood nourished.

My knees threatened to buckle as I realized this witch had access to my blood.
But how? The panic and confusion gave way to anger. I had bled for my kingdom, for my people, not so it could be used by this witch for her evil spells. Who was she?

The witch had already walked through a rounded brick entrance. I cast another glance at the plants and hurried after her. I stopped short when I found myself in the middle of an elegant parlor. This cellar, or underground cave
, was also a house, a beautiful one.

The witch dropped her cloak and my eyebrows rose in surprise. I knew her. She had the same regal bearing, the same long neck, and the same raven hair.

“Lady Meredith?” I asked, rubbing my eyes in disbelief.

“No, but many have made that mistake,” the witch said in a melodious voice that reminded me of Meredith’s.

It wasn’t James’s stepmother. Although she looked just like her, she felt different to the rest of my senses. This couldn’t be the witch, could it?

She untied her cloak and laid it over the arm of a chair. “Is that man outside with you?”

“Yes. He’s a Hound who—”

“Darrell!” The man from the garden stuck his head out from the entrance we’d just come through. “There is a
Hound in front of my house. Please see to him.”

Darrell smiled like a cat that had swallowed a canary. “My pleasure.”

I stared after him as he strode out of the room. “Please don’t kill him. I’m bound to him now by a blood oath.” I held up my bandaged hand as proof. “I very much need him alive.”

Her brown eyes crinkled in the corner when she smiled. “Darrell won’t injure him, just play with him a bit.
As for the cut on your hand and the bruise on your throat, I can heal those if you have no objection.”

Before I could decline the use of her witch magic, she brushed her fingers against my hands and throat. They felt better instantly. I gave her a guarded, but grateful smile.

“Sit down,” she said kindly, gesturing to a table filled with teas and pastries and fresh fruit and vegetables. “Eat, if you are hungry.”

I hesitated, remembering stories of evil witches. But
she’d already healed me, and I seemed fine. Not to mention, Lady Meredith had assured me I could trust her, so I piled my plate, hoping I wouldn’t turn into a toad. She sat across from me and reread the note while I ate. When she finished she tapped the corner of the letter against her lips and studied me.

“So you're the Emmía,” she said, her voice cracking. “You'll forgive me for being surprised. An Emmía has never been outside the barrier since it was erected.”

“Do you know Lady Meredith?” I asked, stirring sugar into a cup of steaming tea. “She's the one who sent me to you. I’m surprised you two are acquainted.”

“Do you mean, how could a witch like me be on speaking terms with a royal from
Orea?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly.

“Lady Meredith is my sister.” My head snapped up and I gaped openly before remembering I had a mouth full of food. I forced myself to close my mouth and chew.

The woman smiled. “I can see that surprises you. I wouldn't spend much time dwelling on it. You have bigger issues to concern you.”

“What’s your name?” I asked, trying to back up and understand what was happening.

“
Aleah.” She gave me a regal nod. “I’m pleased to meet you, Jade.”

She didn't use my official title. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Aleah,” I repeated, dabbing the corners of my mouth with a linen. “I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to do here. Lady Meredith said that you could help me, but didn’t tell me more.”

Aleah
nodded absently as she stirred her tea, and I waited for her to collect her thoughts and speak.

“You were betrothed to my step-nephew, August, but in love with James,” she said at length. “I don't know either well. I haven't seen them since they were both very young. They know nothing of me, but I've received word about them from my sister when she comes to visit.”

My wide eyes blinked. “She comes here?”

Aleah
nodded. “She and I have chosen different paths in life to accomplish what we want, but we care deeply for one another.”

“What path have you chosen for yourself?” I questioned, curiosity creeping into my voice.

“I chose a life free from lies.”

The way
Aleah phrased things seemed backwards, as if Aleah saw herself as the one with morals instead of her sister. But Aleah was the one living outside the civilized world of Orea.

“And free from morals as well?”

“Like you? You are in the company of a witch outside the barrier, are you not?” My teacup hit the saucer with a clang. Aleah simply tilted her head. “Are you upset by me saying this?”

“Yes.” My throat thickened with emotion. “You don’t know me or the circumstances that have led me here.”

“Neither do you know mine.”

The angry words withered on my tongue and I dipped my head in acknowledgement. “You’re right. I apologize.”

“What brings you here to get help from a witch?” she asked.

“Lady Meredith thought you’d help.” I opened the neck of my shirt, revealing the bare skin of my throat where my Medallion should have hung.

She muffled a curse and leaned toward me. “What happened?”

I tapped my fingers against my teacup, deciding how much to reveal. “James took me sailing beyond the barrier,
and we were set upon by pirates. During the battle I accidently killed August.”

Aleah
paused, her teacup hovering in the air. “I see. So, you didn’t mean to murder the heir?”

“Yes,
and no. I meant to kill the man behind me. I
thought
he was a pirate. I meant to
protect
James and August.”

Aleah
sipped her tea. “Yes, that is one of the weaknesses of the medallion. And yet, the military is often called to kill for the kingdom, and still keep their charms.”

“It’s spelled differently for the military, I suppose.” The tether on my emotions began to slip. “James thought I killed August so I could marry
him
instead. That if I married him instead of his brother, he would be more biddable and I would rule the kingdom. That I craved power.”

Aleah
crossed her ankles. “Is it true?”

I shook my head and leaned heavily against the back of the chair. “No. I don’t want to rule the kingdom. I admit to loving James and my sword did steal August from this world, but the true fault lies with the pirates.”

A flash of understanding filled her eyes. “Was this pirate young and very good looking?” Her voice seemed calm but her knuckles turned white as she gripped her teacup.

“He was, but that hardly matters.” He no longer appeared handsome in my memories; all I could see was the destruction he’d set into motion.

For the briefest of moments I saw some emotion I couldn’t name flash through Aleah's eyes. I lowered the teacup and stared at her.

“Do you know him?”

She cursed softly under her breath, which I took to mean yes.

“Did you know he planned to do this?”

“No. I have heard nothing about this incident.” Her voice took on a cold edge. “Nothing. Except for what you told me yourself.”

Tea sloshed over the edges of
Aleah’s cup and her eyes found mine. “Where is your medallion now?”

“It's with the pirate captain.” I scuffed the toe of my shoe on the wooden floor. “I assume he still has it.”

The grip on her teacup slackened. “You left it with him?”

I frowned at the direction this conversation had taken. “Why is everyone preoccupied with the medallion? The charm is broken; it's worthless.”

“If it's worthless, why did he keep it?”

Her logic hit me with as much shock as cold water in my face. I didn’t have an answer to that. Why would he want it?

“Anyone robbing or attacking the royal family is sentenced immediately to death. What’s the benefit of possessing that medallion it if it means he’ll end up swinging from a rope? Why would he keep evidence of his crimes?”

“My medallion would have to be kept secret,” I whispered. “The navy would hunt them down, if for no other reason than to make an example of them.”

She leaned back in her chair and lifted her hand to her temple. “Don't you wonder why he would go to such extremes?”

“I’ve been so wrapped up in
August’s death, I hadn’t considered it.”

“Well, now you have time to think it through. What was his motivation? Did he steal anything, except your medallion?”

“No. And as soon as it fell from my neck, he released us.”

“Did he take anyone else’s medallion?”

I rubbed my forehead. “No, only mine.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know. It’s old. Every Emmía since Princess Dawn has worn it, but it’s still only a medallion.” Why had the captain wanted mine specifically? I sank into the chair again. Everything about the encounter with the pirate suddenly seemed turned upside down, like pieces of a puzzle that no longer fit. The entire battle had been fought to get my medallion. But why?

Aleah
leaned forward, her voice gentle. “I think it’s time you tell me everything.”

When I was finished,
Aleah placed a gentle hand over mine. “You poor child. How horrible it must have been to go through that, then to have James abandon you.” Her fingers tightened over mine. “I’ll see what I can do about your sister. As for the Hound, I would never trust one. They’re taken as children and raised to be a selfish, unsavory lot who are only concerned with catching their bounty. They’ll do anything to accomplish it.”

“I know, but I don't have a choice. I swore a blood oath on the matter. I’m going to the ship to retrieve my medallion so I can save Pearl.”

Aleah gave me a knowing look. “Women, especially unmarried women, aren't normally allowed on such a ship,” she said calmly. “It's bad luck. You would need a disguise—you more than any other woman.”

“My eyes,” I replied, my hand absently going up towards them and brushing my still wet lashes.

“I can help you with that,” Aleah said. “I can give you some herbs to take with you.”

She headed towards a cupboard and opened it, revealing two rows of jars, each neatly labeled. She removed one that containing yellow yarrow root, and dumped it into a bowl, then began mixing in other herbs so quickly I couldn't see what they were. She poured the contents into a leather pouch and handed it to me.

“You must drink this twice a week.” She gestured to the pouch that lay before me. “It will turn your eyes to green. That’s enough for three months, though you'll still need something more to get on the ship. Sneaking on board a ship dressed as a boy is an old trick. We’ll have to find you a better disguise.”

I couldn't help but stare at her in wonder. “Thank you for helping me,” I whispered. It wasn't adequate to express my gratitude, but it was the best I could manage at the moment.

“You can thank my sister. She's the one who sent you to me.”

“Is that the only reason you’re helping me?”

“My reasons are my own.” Aleah grinned as she set a pot of water on the stove to make more tea, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she turned towards the cupboard. “One more thing, Jade. Does your family have a history of rheumatism?”

Chapter 11

I sniffed at the tea suspiciously. “Will it be permanent?”

The right corner of
Aleah’s mouth curled up. “No. Don’t forget; you need to take it regularly.”

“Even if I will only be on the ship for a few moments?”

She gave me an odd smile. “It’s a good idea to be prepared for anything, especially with your sister’s life in the balance.”

I didn’t need any more motivation than that. I swallowed the whole cup of the minty concoction in one gulp. My hand shook as I set the saucer on the table, and it was all I could do to turn towards the large oval mirror and force myself to watch. I saw nothing at first, but then, it was as if all the color in my body began to fade. My hair lightened to gray. My skin became duller, thinner, more transparent and looser on my body. It was something out of a child’s bedtime story as wrinkles appeared around my eyes and age spots bloomed on my hands. My aged fingers went to my face, tracing the
withered lines of my transformed skin. The old lady in the mirror copied my movements. Her horrified expression mimicked my own.

“Amazing,” I murmured in a deep rasp I didn’t recognize. Staring at the stranger in the mirror, and seeing the withered reflection of an old woman
with dull green eyes looking back at me, the pain I felt was emotional; the physical transformation hadn’t hurt at all. I didn’t even feel old. No aching knees of sore backs that the elderly sometimes complained about. She must have been joking when she’d asked about the rheumatism. I turned my hands over, studying my palms. My scars were gone! The spell had erased every part of what made me the Emmía. It fascinated me.

I had never envisioned myself growing old. No Emmía lived past thirty. I knew my good health would not endure past the birth of a daughter, successor of the Emmía line. During the few times I had pictured my later life, I envisioned myself fragile and sickly in bed, but still young. Every Emmía ended up that way, a result of our delicate constitutions being pushed past their limits by childbirth. The thought of convalescence and early death terrified me, so I pushed it out of my mind every time it managed to creep past my defenses.

Now, as I stared at my older self in the mirror, it was like a treasured glimpse into the future I would never live to see. As soon as I returned the medallion to Dorian I would be executed. Or perhaps, I would be forced to bare an heir and be executed as soon as the cord was cut. Either way, I would die as the youngest Emmía on record.

Through a contact of hers,
Aleah was able to narrow down which city the pirate ship would be docking in. She felt confident it would have to return to a port soon to fill up on supplies and it would stop in the town of Rizo. She traveled with Dorian and me by horse to Rizo, a few days’ ride away. Aleah graciously let me stay at the home she was able to rent near the water. I was endlessly grateful for her kindness. I couldn’t stand the thought of lodging in a cramped, dirty room above a tavern, alone except for the company of a Hound I didn’t trust. It took a week for any ship to enter the port.

During that time of forced inactivity, I could no longer outrun the emotional toll of the events that had led me here. I detested self-pity, but had fallen sullen. Each time I caught sight of my aged appearance in the mirror or drank my aging potion, my hands would ball into fists and I longed to hit someone. Usually James or the pirate captain starred in my violent fantasy, though my pillow took the brunt of it. It usually took several deep breaths to loosen my tightly set jaw and calm me down again. James had been quick to misjudge, doubt, and condemn me, and the pirate had swung in and ripped my world to shreds. Between the two of them, I wasn’t sure whom I hated more. Seeing my wrinkled face, knowing the reasons for my disguise made the blood thrum faster in my veins.

Aleah had sent word to my parents and brother not to return to the castle along with a missive on what had happened. She promised to protect them, which comforted me. I hoped it reached them in time.

I never saw Dorian once we’d made it
to Rizo, but I knew he was out there, waiting. Aleah wouldn’t allow him in our rented home. She had magically sealed him out in a further attempt to calm me, but still, my unsteady nerves strained every time a floorboard creaked, sure Dorian had called for reinforcements. Aleah relayed messages between us, though I had little to say. Most of the communication consisted of reminders from Dorian that Pearl’s time was running out, and that if I tried to run, the blood oath would kill me. Once he went so far as to add that he could drag my dead body back to the kingdom as easily as my live one. Aleah quit relaying his messages after that.