Forcina narrowed her eyes at him, placing a hand on her amply curved hip.
“Haven’t you better things to do than eavesdrop on my conversations, Forcina?”
“Oh I have many things I could be doing, but watching your pitiful life is just far too entertaining.” She wound a lock of her ruby hair around a perfectly manicured finger. “Your scheme is useless. The Sorcerers of this world are long gone, forced out by your pig of a father.” She spat upon the ground at the mention of his father.
“At least I’m not sitting around doing nothing. At least I’m trying to claim my life back.”
“And for what?” She crossed her arms over her chest, slowly circling him. “To go back to a family who doesn’t care about you? They have all but forgotten you. Do you know they are planning to crown a new heir? It's no use, Doraan. You can’t win.” Her smile was filled with mischief; it made his skin tingle as if it were on fire.
His eyes frosted over, sending shards of ice her way. These mind games she constantly played were exhausting. “I have not lost yet.”
Her smirk morphed into something far more sinister as the wind picked up, howling like an angry ghost. Her voice rose over the raging storm as she laughed, “It’s only a matter of time.”
Doraan gritted his teeth, holding his ground as the wind threatened to sweep him up into the air. He leaned into it, pressing his foot hard into the ship's surface, until with one final gust she was gone and the final sound of her echoing cackle faded into the night with her.
10
Kamira
Kamiradidn’treturntothe crew’s quarters. Instead, she wandered to the stern of the ship. On any normal vessel, it would be the location of the Captain’s quarters, but if she had learned anything over the past few days on theCursed Soul,it was that this ship wasnotnormal. So instead of the stern housing the Captain’s quarters, it housed the galley.
She grabbed a piece of bread from one of the long dining tables before crawling through one of the four large windows that provided a spectacular view of the trailing ocean. Perching along the small ledge, she allowed her feet to dangle and took a deep, calming breath of the fresh sea air before blowing it out with a sigh and biting into the chunk of bread.
“Blazing biscuits!” she cursed. The bread was so stale, she brought a hand up to touch her mouth, certain she had broken one of her teeth. “How can anyone even eat this?” she grunted, tossing it into the bubbling sea below.
Kamira rubbed her tired eyes. She supposed this new life was what she deserved—one full of long days, hard work, and stale bread.
Looking up at the night sky, she watched as the stars winked in and out and wondered if her life would ever be normal again. Something had obviously happened to these men, something to make them turn their backs from whatever life they once had to live this life of piracy.
Maybe like called to like. Maybe the sea had brought her to this ship for a reason. But in all honesty, did anyone ever choose to be a pirate? An outlaw? Or did it choose them?
Her mind wandered to the young Captain’s wooden leg. No one would have chosen a harsh life on the sea — one that could only be survived by thieving and constantly putting your life on the line. That didn’t seem like any way to live at all. She wished the Captain would have let her examine his leg. That wooden contraption couldn’t be comfortable and her gifts could help him tremendously.
Kamira’s mother, even though she forbade Kamira from ever using her abilities, had used her own gifts in sorcery on occasion to help people. It was one of the few things she admired about her mother. To mask her healing sorcery, she used salves concocted of beeswax, scented oils, and dried herbs made with the rarest healing plants. It was the most dangerous thing her mother ever did, because the ability to heal marked her as a Legion—a Sorcerer of all four elements.
Kamira recalled when her own abilities revealed themselves at the young age of seven. Her parents had thrown her a grand birthday party with mountains of presents and a pony. Luckily, the only ones in attendance were her mother, father, and brother, Adonis. Being taught at home by her mother until the age of eighteen hadn’t given Kamira the opportunity to make many friends.
She could remember every minute detail of that very morning. Her father had brought out a massive lemon cake drizzled with beautiful yellow icing and surrounded by spring flowers with seven candles arranged in a ring—their flickering flames glowing like beacons welcoming her into a new year of life. When he set the cake in front of her, she closed her eyes and made her birthday wish. When an unfamiliar tingle coursed through her, it invoked an excitement that her wish had come true. The thrill was quickly extinguished when her mother screamed and her father cursed. The table cloth had been engulfed by flames, and the candles had not been blown out, but strengthened into bright strings of flame that blazed toward the ceiling. Kamira screamed alongside her mother and pushed herself away from the table. Adonis sent a wave of water over the table to drown the fire, drenching the cake and presents.
A flicker drew Kamira’s attention back to the present as she looked to her left, where a lantern hung, fire dancing within its glass case. It was ironic how fire was the first element of her gifts to reveal itself, since it was the most unruly of elements and the only one that she still struggled to grasp. She couldn’t even use it to light a candle. It was wild and angry—the polar opposite to the gentle fluidity of water. Water ebbed and flowed in rhythmic patterns whereas fire jerked and sputtered erratically. It scared her more than any other element.
Air had a current, a course, and direction—similar to the way water moved. Earth came most naturally to her after water. Not only was it made of dirt, but it combined air and water into a solid formation and could easily be manipulated.
The use of all four elements at once connected a Sorcerer to life itself. They could bring a person back from the brink of death or steal their ability to live. Her brother told her that long ago, it was said a Legion could even raise someone from the dead. The idea of that made her skin crawl, and she scratched at her arms, goosebumps rising along her flesh.
Kamira didn’t think she would ever be able to make her gifts go that far. She hadn’t heard of anyone being able to do so in hundreds of years. That much power only belonged in fairytales—like in the tale of the War of Four Kings. In that story, a master wielder of the four elements named Honoria raised an army of the dead from their endless slumber and ended the thousand year war for good—but it was just a parable created to teach peace and held no truth. It wasn’t possible toactuallybring something back from death. Death was an ultimatum. It was irreversible, and not even a Legion could change something so final.
That story was one of her favorites because of how colorful the elemental Sorcerers were depicted. She could picture them vividly in her mind.
The myth described the water elementalists as Udina with cerulean skin that made them nearly invisible in the water and varying shades of green hair like the kelp and seaweed of the ocean. The fire elementalists were called Salamanders—their skin described as blinding pink with hair ranging from orange to dark red, like a forever burning flame. The air elementalists were called Nymphs, their skin and hair as white as snow, and the earth elementalists were named Gnomes, their skin and hair able to change, replicating their surroundings. They had always seemed the most dangerous to Kamira since they could resemble any elementalist they wanted, blending into a Salamander army only to annihilate them from the inside. She shivered at the thought, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.
Kamira looked at her fair skin and wondered if the ability of the Gnomes to change their looks had simply been forgotten. If she or any other earth and Legion Sorcerer tried hard enough, could they become anyone they wanted? It would solve all of her problems. She could change herself into someone else, create an entirely new persona, and never worry about anyone finding her.
She huffed out a weak laugh at the thought, shoulders sagging as she watched the waves fanning out as the ship cut through the water. It was just a story, an ancient tale passed throughout history, and nothing more.
Kamira looked to the horizon. It was still dark enough that the sea and sky blended together, the stars the only distinction between them. If she didn’t sleep tonight, she would pass out tomorrow and fall from the crow’s nest to a watery death. She was hungry and exhausted, but tomorrow was a new day—a day to fully embrace her new life and be grateful for the fact that she still had a life to live.
The flame still flickered at the corner of her vision, dancing in its usual manic state. Kamira closed her eyes and blew out a breath, flicking her exhalation like throwing a knife at the flame. When she opened her eyes, the lantern was extinguished with smoke rising in its wake. She smiled and headed back inside, hoping to get a few more hours of rest before sunrise.
