In Love and War

Chapter 8 - Thema

Almost half an hour later, Arya was stalking towards the smallest ship at the docks, murder in her steps. Every sailor had been the same. Every one of them had laughed at her.

No man goes to Sheridan. It is cursed. Sheridan doesn't exist. Sheridan is too dangerous for a woman like yourself. No one in their right mind would try to go to Sheridan. Sheridan, the land of the gods and monsters, the cursed continent, the god-keeper, the monster-land.

Cowards. The whole lot of them.

But--one had told her--Cael might. Cael, the daredevil with the smallest ship of them all, might bring her if she had enough gold. He was mad, they said, begrudging respect in their voices.

So here she was. A thin, reedy man leapt from the rigging and landed before her, straightening to tower over her.

"What do we have here?" His chapped lips from life at sea curled into a crooked smile. "Want a ride somewhere, miss?"

"Do you sail to Sheridan?" Arya asked, voice low.

His smile faded. "Sheridan. No, I don't. I might be mad, but I don't have a death wish, lassie."

Arya ground her teeth. "I can pay."

His eyes sharpened. "Sheridan is not for humans, miss." He crossed his arms. "I can take you anywhere else. The Kaltlands, the Southern Islands--"

"I need to get to Sheridan. Anything. I can give you as much gold as you wish--"

"I'll need no gold when I'm dead." His eyes were hard. "If you're not going to buy a ride, I'm going to need you to leave, miss."

Arya blew out a breath. "Please," she begged, pride stinging. But anything, anything for Altrys. "Please--"

"No!" Cael snarled, shoving her back. "Stop. I won't do it." His eyes darted around above her head, and he lowered his voice. "Get out of here. And get that damned idea out of your head." He shoved his face into hers. "Sheridan is a fool's myth. I've seen the wreckages come back from there. There isn't even a ship left. Just timber and silence. So get this fantasy out of your head, and go home," he hissed.

Arya stared at him, watching the way his eyes darted to see if anyone saw that he, the daredevil, the famous conqueror of the seas, was afraid.

"You're a coward," she told him, voice hard as steel, sharp as ice.

With one last icy look at him, she turned.

"Wait." A female voice. And accented.

Arya turned back, to find the girl she'd protected in the passageways in the cliffs standing a few paces away, hands on her hips, head high.

"How much for the boat?" the woman asked, a wicked grin curling on her mouth. Around her neck looped the lithe body of a huge snake, scales gleaming in the morning light. Its black head swayed, watching.

Cael stared at the snake, enraptured. "Can I touch it?"

The woman's dark eyes glittered. "If you want to get bitten." She grinned, and winked. "But do not worry. It will not hurt. Just a little pinch." The snake hissed.

Cael drew his hand back with a jerk and stuffed it in his pocket. "The boat's not for sale," he said, eyes not moving from the woman.

The woman's eyes met Arya's, and flicked down to her waist.

Arya hesitated, and pulled out a small, heavy bag. The heavy coins inside clinked as she shook it.

Cael's eyes snapped to the velvet. It was enough to feed the entire village for a month. "Put that away," he hissed.

Arya shrugged. "I can go elsewhere." She kept the bag out. Cael's eyes darted from it to the sailors father down the docks.

He shook his head, jaw tight, and snatched the bag from Arya. "Take it. It's yours," he hissed, jerking his head toward the boat. His eyes narrowed. "But don't say I didn't warn you. You try to go to Sheridan, and you're as good as carrion."

Arya waited for his footsteps to fade into the distanced before she turned her gaze to the woman, who was examining her again.

"I told you I do not forget my debts," the woman said at last.

The snake twined around itself and brushed the woman's ear, tongue scenting the air. She smiled.

"So you want to go to Sheridan."

Arya watched her silently.

"You have a boat, and you need a captain." The woman stroked the snake's tan back.

"Let us make a deal, shall we?" Her eyes flickered with intelligence, and a little bit of something more. "I will take you to Sheridan. And as payment, once there, you will give me the boat."

Arya examined the woman, the proud tilt of her chin, the dullness of her clothes, the seams that were beginning to split on her dress. The windworn, waterworn hems of her dress. And the brilliance that shone out of untamed, calculating eyes.

"Deal." She wouldn't need the boat on Sheridan.

The woman nodded once, a flash of mischief in her gaze, and strode onto the boat. Arya followed her, and stepped onto the gently rocking vessel. The woman was waiting for her. "How strong are you?"

"Strong enough."

A flash of a wicked grin. "Good. You will be stronger at the end." The woman glanced at the rising sun. "We leave now."

"What is your name?" Arya asked.

"Thema," she said. "And yours?"

Arya debated for a moment. "Call me Phoenix."

Thema didn't question her. Just nodded and skipped up the rigging like she'd been born on the surf, on the roll of waves and the swing of ropes.

* * * * *

We're going to Sheridan! Yaaaaay! Finally XD

Do you like Thema? She's a riot to write because I often actually don't know what she's going to do next... which is fun and terrifying. 

Anyway, vote and comment, and I'll see you next Friday!

Have a superb weekend!