VIOLENT TIDES (gxg - editing)

10

In Ainsley's defence, she had fought.

One of Gael's crew had come down to let her know that the pirates from the other ship were boarding, then had chosen to make himself comfortable on the opposite side of the hold without being asked- a gesture Ainsley appreciated, to her own surprise. She didn't want to be alone right then, and she trusted this pirate far more than any of the newcomers that might, in some off chance, stumble upon her.

Making herself comfortable on the bed she had been sleeping on since she arrived on the Finch, Ainsley had sat against the wall with the cat purring in her lap, fingers ruffling its fur in rhythmic movements as she waited for Gael to tell her it was safe.

She wasn't sure how long she had been down there before the hatch opened suddenly and brilliant light streamed in. She'd leapt to her feet, the cat falling from her lap, her pirate companion scrambling to his feet and drawing his cutlass. He had been too late. Blinded by the sunlight and disoriented, Ainsley had struggled in vain as strong hands closed around her arm and dragged her back up and onto the deck. Her boots scrambled for grip on the wood, trying to twist herself away from the man to no avail.

"Found her!" One of the men holding her crowed triumphantly. Instantly, the pirates Ainsley recognized snapped to attention, turning weapons on her captor- but then they froze, and in a second she understood why, feeling cold metal at her throat. She swallowed, feeling the dagger pulse against her skin. There was an arm wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly against a solid man who stood behind her, pulling her up so she had to stand on her toes or let the blade plunge into her throat.

"What are you doing?"

Ainsley had never been so happy to hear Gael's voice. The captain stormed towards them, then stopped short when she saw the dagger, eyes wide and nervous. An older man appeared next to her, grinning widely.

"Well, Captain, I really was willin' to trade you something for her and make this worth your time, but I figured I'd send someone to find her anyways jus' in case you said no. Now we'll be taking her with us, and you ain't getting anything in return, either."

"You are not leaving this ship," Gael snarled. For a second, Ainsley was surprised at the stormy anger in her dark eyes. She had never seen this side of the captain. "Because if the princess dies, you can't use or sell her. You have no leverage, Bartholomew."

The other man smiled again, displaying missing teeth. With a gesture of his hand, another man stepped forward and the knife at her throat disappeared as they each took hold of her arms instead.

"That's where you're wrong, Captain. I may not be able to kill her, but something tells me you're too soft to stand there and watch me cut her open until she's on the brink of death." He reached for his own cutlass, drew it, and stepped forward. Blinded by panic, Ainsley jerked violently backwards, trying to pull away from the calloused hands that held her. The tip of the blade was brought to her cheek, pressing down against it lightly. "Try to stop us, and this is where I'll start."

Trembling so hard that her captors were the only things keeping her on her feet, Ainsley watched Gael desperately. Nathe was behind her, white with fear.

Were they afraid for her?

"Fine," Gael said at last, through clenched teeth. "She's yours."

No!

Ainsley's heart stuttered in her chest. Gael wouldn't, would she?

"But you are not going to get far with that cuff on her," the captain continued. "Symbol of our ownership. Let me remove that first."

Was she talking about the damper? Ainsley watched with wide eyes as Gael strode forward, digging around in her pockets before she produced a small silver key.

"May I see her wrist?"

After a moment of hesitation, the man holding one of her arms released her. Gael's hand closed gently on her elbow, lifting her wrist up to insert the key in the metal cuff. Her gaze met Ainsley's, and in that split second, the princess understood.

Bartholomew started. "Wait-"

It was too late. Gael pulled the cuff from Ainsley's skin, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by a surge of raw power, enough to make her knees crumple underneath her. The two men lunged to catch her. Her mind was suddenly flooded with emotions and thoughts that weren't hers- and the elation she felt would've brought her to tears if she didn't have these pirates to take care of first.

With one jerk, Ainsley separated herself from the two men who had been holding her back. Her rage mixed with her returned power and she lunged at Bartholomew, ignoring the flash of sunlight against his cutlass as he raised it to defend himself. She wasn't quite sure where it hit. With no idea of what she had done, she had him pinned to the deck, fingers digging into his throat as he choked and wheezed underneath her. Hands clawed at her back and arms, trying to pull her off of him, but Ainsley was relentless.

"Ainsley!"

Gael's voice was the only one to break through the chaos of panicked voices that flooded her senses. Her head whipped up to the captain.

A fight had broken out on the deck, but even as Ainsley watched, Bartholomew's few men were overwhelmed by the Finch's full crew. One body was crumpled on the deck. Feeling as though her heart was trembling in her ribcage, Ainsley turned back to the aging man at her mercy.

"Go back to your ship," she growled. "And count yourself lucky."

Then she stood up and stepped away.

He struggled to his feet, breaths wheezing, face an unhealthy purple. He nodded, sweat glinting on his face as he hurried to the edge of the deck, stumbling on unsteady legs. Gael's crew released the six survivors they had been holding prisoner, and Ainsley stepped back, legs suddenly shaking again. Pain erupted from everywhere in her body at once and suddenly the wooden deck was rushing up to meet her again. Strong hands caught her and in a moment of panic, she squirmed to get free again, before a familiar voice broke through her clouded mind again.

"Calm down, Princess," Nathe was saying, scooping her up easily into his arms. "It's just me. You're hurt-"

"Wait!" She gasped, twisting her head to try and peer over to the edge of the deck. Her breaths were laboured and frantic, but anger still mixed with the sharp, stabbing pain that glazed over her mind. "Are they- are they in the rowboats yet?"

"Who, Bartholomew's crew?" His face was confused above her. "Yes, they're going back to their ship. It's alright."

"No! Bring me- bring me to the wall-" She could tell he thought she was delirious, but she was insistent. "Please?"

He finally relented and carried her over to the low wall separating the deck of the Finch from the open ocean.

"Now put me down."

"Princess-"

"Do it!"

At her insisting, he sighed and gently placed her on her feet. She crumpled against the rail, breathing uneven and darkness clouding her vision for a moment as she peered down at the water below. Sure enough, the rowboat was there, steadily churning its way back towards the ship that swayed a short distance off. Ainsley swallowed, her mouth dry and tasting like copper. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and cast her mind downward.

It was a strange action to explain, as she had attempted to do for the crew a few times now. The closest way she could describe it was to push her consciousness somewhere, to reach out for a connection. After not having done it for nearly a week, the sensation of doing so again brought a wave of thrill that only added to the anger she felt. This was what she was born to do.

And then, from the watery depths far, far below, she felt a response.

There was something down there. Something that felt her anger and her pain, and was replying with its own.

"Ainsley!"

Nathe's voice broke through her trance and she leaned her weight heavily against the wall, staring at the water. Nathe was beside her, and after a moment, so was Gael. Then the entire crew aboard the Finch was there, staring in awe at the cloud of white bubbles that blossomed between the two ships. The water churned. And then the shadow appeared.

Something huge was surfacing. For the first time, Ainsley felt herself smiling.

In one clean swipe and a flash of grey skin and huge teeth, the creature lunged out of the water and crushed the rowboat between its powerful jaws. A spray of saltwater washed over her, and there was the sickening crunch of wood between teeth, and then the monster was gone beneath the waves again. The disturbed waves lapping against the Finch's hull carried nothing more than a few snapped, splintered planks of wood.

A deathly silence fell over the crew aboard the Finch. There was a hand on her shoulder, and Ainsley realized it was Gael's. The captain was staring at the spot where the boat had just been, eyes huge in shock and mouth hanging open.

They had known she could summon dragons. Her power just never ceased to surprise people.

But she had never used her abilities to kill people before.

Ainsley leaned over the side and promptly threw up.