Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates (12 page)

The Empress’ youngest daughter,
Karen, had been the delight of the kingdom.  A beautiful girl, who had done her
level best to fix up this fucking island.  She was really the only one of the
family that everyone in the outside world had liked.  A stately and kind girl,
who had her mother’s looks but lacked her cruelty.  The girl had tried to shed
her family’s darkness, much to their consternation and everlasting fury. 
Because of the weird-ass Adithian line of succession, Karen had been the heir
to the throne here, apple of her father’s eye.

She was destined to do incredible
things for her people and everyone knew it.

But the royal family was a
murderous bunch, and Jinshu, the family’s
other
most dangerous resident
psycho, had seen to it five years before that the girl wouldn’t be a problem
for them anymore.

Sibling rivalry was tough in that
kind of family. 

There were still memorials to the
little twit scattered around the island, however.  Marston walked by at least a
half dozen of the things every morning, despite the fact they were outlawed
here.  The Adithians had loved that girl almost as much as her family had hated
her.  But that didn’t mean the royals weren’t willing to make money under the
table by selling tacky Karen-themed geegaws to the peasants, and thus the small
unofficial monuments were allowed to remain.

Rumors about the exact circumstances
of Karen’s death swirled around the island, as well as calls for the head of
her killer.  Conspiracy theories raged in the population, postulating that other
lands had murdered her, or that the girl wasn’t really dead, or even some
quasi-religious ideas about her being some kind of saintly figure come to this
kingdom to save them.

Personally, Marston didn’t think
talking about any of that was a good idea if you wanted to live for long in
Adithia.  The royals might make cash selling black-market Karen souvenirs, but
her name was still an off limits topic on this island.

All of this was Karen’s fault
though.  Karen had pissed off Jinshu.  And that set off a sequence of events
which ended with Marston cutting up that bitch’s face.

Her other sister, Allerleirauh, the
Girl with Silver Hands, had always been among the most outspoken of her
siblings however.  Which was probably why she had no hands.  The empress had
believed that the dearly departed King Offa had been…
interested…
in the
girl, despite the fact that she was his daughter, so she cut off Allerleirauh’s
hands in an attempt to turn the king’s eye away from her.  Some versions of the
story had it that the girl had done it to herself in order to repulse her
father and take away the objects of his misplaced lust.  Whichever the reason,
Allerleirauh’s hands had been replaced with silver…
things,
which were
somehow still capable of slight movement. 

Knowing the family, there was
probably some evil magic involved there.

Marston found the prosthetic hands
disgusting
. 
Which, to be fair, had been the intent of cutting off the girl’s hands in the
first place, no matter who had done it. 

The Adithian royal family was
very
good at accomplishing its goals, no matter how horrifying or demented those
goals might be.

“We’re interested because
no one
does what she did and then disappears.”  Lujayna snapped.  “I don’t forget
when I’m wronged.”  She pounded a fist down on the arm of her silver throne. 
“And I was! 
SO THAT LITTLE BITCH IS GOING TO DIE SCREAMING!
”  She
roared, her hands clawing at the air as if strangling the woman in question.  “
I
WILL WATCH HER DIE AND FEAST ON HER HEART!
”

Marston almost rolled his eyes at
his boss’ typical over-the-top drama, but was too afraid that the action would
lead to him being incinerated on the spot.

Lujayna was not a ruler who took
criticism well.

The woman the Empress was meeting
with paled, obviously terrified by seeing her ruler fly off the handle over the
news she’d just delivered.

Allerleirauh sighed, used to her
mother’s theatrics and unafraid of being further mutilated by her for some
reason.  Marston had always suspected that the girl didn’t overly care about
living anymore, so she simply said what she wanted and let the cards fall where
they may.  “Not to be the bitch who points out the obvious here,” she turned to
look at Marston, “but we wouldn’t be in this mess if your little pirate buddy
over there had just
done his damn job.
”

Marston’s teeth ground together. 
“That was
Rowland
.”  He bit out, hating that little handless freak more
than ever.  “No one bothered to tell me the plan for that bitch, remember?  If
I had known that she was in any way important, I would have kept a closer eye
on her.”

Csejte snorted in derision.  “An
ironic choice of words, pirate.”  He ran his finger across his eyes, mimicking
cutting them, as Marston had done to the girl.  He seemed to find it funny for
some reason.

Csejte and his men were the closest
thing to law enforcement on the island, having taken over as their leader around
the time Princess Karen made her abrupt exit.  But their brand of policing
ended up sending so many people to be made into decorative silver topiaries for
the castle grounds, that the Adithians had taken to calling his men “The
Gardeners.”  Csejte’s gestapo kept the populace in line through fear and brutal
intimidation.

But the Adithians accepted his
tactics, because they were Adithian and were crazy.  And as bad as he was, he
was still better than Jinshu had been. 

Marston’s hands fisted at his
sides, reminding himself that fighting his new kingdom’s deathless warrior prince
probably wasn’t going to end well for him.  “Had I been told that you needed
the girl or her corpse returned so that she could face your righteous justice,
I obviously wouldn’t have let the incident play out as it did.”

“You mean: ‘let her escape.’”  The
bitch with no hands corrected.  “Word has it that you lacked the skills to even
drown an unconscious woman. 
In the middle of the
fucking ocean
. 
With over a hundred men to help you!”

He ignored that, remaining focused
on the Empress and trying to keep his tone calm but respectful.  “But Captain
Rowland was the only one who knew that she was a fugitive.  You sent
him
the letter informing him of the girl’s location, not me.”  He’d been in Adithia
long enough to recognize that if you were accused of something, just denying it
wasn’t going to be enough.  You needed someone else to blame.  Someone had to
burn, and if you didn’t want it to be you, you needed to provide another victim. 
“I’ve suspected that the girl had coconspirators, and
they
deliberately
withheld that vital information from us once he died.”  He nodded
convincingly.  “As you know, many people are jealous of this land and its
beautiful and powerful empress.  They seek to tear down the Silver Tree and the
sparkling utopia she has created for her grateful subjects.”

Allerleirauh didn’t look
impressed.  “You seem to know a lot about this supposed ‘conspiracy,’ pirate
man.”  She observed.  “Especially for an Outsider.”

“I am always vigilant in protecting
my beautiful and noble Empress, yes.”  He nodded, trying to keep the contempt and
terror from his voice.  “Her interests are my interests.”

“We should string him up, mother.” 
Allerleirauh advised.  “It’s his fault that unbelievable bitch isn’t a
decoration in the garden right now, staring at us with an expression of eternal
torment, preserved in the holy silver.  We should kill him and call in The
Ghostmaker to track the bitch down for us, since the pirate couldn’t get the
job done.”

“I don’t see how my death would
solve this problem, nor bringing in another Outsider to our pure island.”  He
shook his head.  “Perhaps the
Empress
should be the one to determine the
best course of action for this peaceful land, not her disabled daughter, who she
tends to like the devoted mother the world celebrates her as being.”

Lujayna considered that silently
for a moment, obviously liking the idea of being renowned as a giver.  “The
pirate has a point.”  She snapped.  “Allerleirauh:
mind your tongue or I’ll cut
it out!
”  She pointed at her own ample chest.  “I am empress of this land,
which means I don’t listen to anyone’s words but mine.”  She sighed, her
beautiful face forming a frown.  “Since my dear husband was stolen from me, it
seems the world is always trying to take what’s mine.”  Her voice broke. 
“Sometimes I think that everyone hates me.”

Dear King Offa had died in the
Feast of Burning Kings, along with most of the world’s other rulers.  In the
time since, his wife had seized as much power for herself as she could and had declared
herself empress.

Of course, the King was a lunatic
too, so he probably would have approved of his wife’s ambition.

Again, the Adithians were all
insane, and they generally seemed to understand and accept that about each other. 
Hell, Jinshu had once burned down a
school
and there was a day of the
week here named after that lunatic!

The room fell into silence, as
everyone silently debated with themselves whether or not they should
immediately disagree with the Empress and tell her how beloved she was. 
Disagreeing with the woman never turned out well… but on the other hand, should
they really be agreeing that no one liked her?

There seemed to be no right answer
to the dilemma.

Overhead, a large mobile which the
Empress had created from silver casts formed when the molten metal had been
poured down a dozen victim’s throats, gently turned in the breeze.  The macabre
tchotchke produced a tingling sound as one silver esophagus clanged against its
neighbor.

The faint musical sound was almost
deafening in the silence.

Then so much time had passed since
the empress had spoken that answering now would have been awkward and sounded
forced.

So, the room remained silent,
hoping that the Empress would just forget her words.

Sadly, she had not.

Marston could tell immediately that
she noticed their silence; her perfect little mouth compressed in a thin line,
as if already plotting their painful deaths.

The woman who had brought the news
of their fugitive’s rediscovery cleared her throat.  “I’m… I’m sure that’s not
true, Your Grace.”

Marston winced, recognizing that
the pixie-looking woman had just presented herself as the perfect scapegoat for
Lujayna’s frustrations and rage.  She was the only one in the room the Empress
could destroy without creating a complication for herself. 

He
genuinely
felt sorry for
the girl.

The Empress was silent for a
moment, her beautiful face trying to look compassionate but just coming off as
scheming and sinister.  “You’ll have to excuse me.”  She told her underling in
what was an attempt to sound sincere.  “I’m feeling very vulnerable right now,
and your coming to me with your news, however welcomed, just isn’t making me
feel like my usual serene self.” 

“It’s… it’s okay, Your Grace.”  The
pixie-looking girl stammered.  “I completely understand.”

The empress nodded sadly.  “So, I’m
asking you as a friend, please just give me the space I need today, okay?”

“The world lives in your shadow,
Your Grace.”  The pixie-looking girl bowed her head.  “If you wish it, I will
do everything in my power to make it so.”

Marston shook his head silently,
recognizing where this was going.

He’d always kind of liked the
pixies.  True, this girl wasn’t actually one of that now vanished race, but her
little features and supple body brought to mind the stories of magical women
who had populated his bedtime stories as a child.

He’d always been fascinated by the
women and their mysterious powers.  Their lithe colorful bodies.  His whole
life, it had been his goal to actually meet one… but they’d all died off before
he ever got the chance.

Which always made him so impossibly
sad that he felt like crying.

The world was so hard on delicate
things.  Magic was vanishing from this world, leaving only death in its place.

People like Jinshu, the Gold Tree.

Monsters.

Lujayna, the Silver Tree, rose from
her throne and started across the room.  She beckoned for the girl to follow
her.  “Come, child.”   

The faux-pixie obediently hurried
after her ruler.

Marston watched her go, meeting Allerleirauh’s
eyes in the process.  They stared at one another for a moment, in mutual
comprehension of what was about to happen, then the girl looked down at the
floor in sorrow.

For the briefest of moments…
Marston considered screaming out a warning to the pretty faux-pixie and rushing
forward to save her from the Empress’ sinister clutches.  Running away with her
to some far off land and telling her all the stories his step-mother had told
him about that now extinct people and the magical things they had done.

It was a nice daydream.

But that simply wasn’t Marston
anymore.

Maybe he might have done it, once
upon a time… but that boy was dead.

As dead as the pixies.

And as dead as the faux-pixie was
about to be.

At some point in his life, he might
have been able to feel something about that and spur himself to some kind of
action, but at the moment, all he could feel was sad.  Sad because he
recognized what he
should
be doing, but lacked the strength to do it. 
Sad because he was about to watch the girl die.

The world was changing.  It was
changing into something new.  Something horrifying.

And all Marston wanted was to be a
pirate.

Just… escape.

Lujayna led the girl towards one of
the tables set up in the room, which was filled with all manner of bottles and
containers.  “And you are sure of this information?”  The empress asked the
woman, her tone soft.  “Where she might be?”