The Underground Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (15 page)

The clear water had flecks of
grey where rocks protruded from the surface while weathered rocks lay on the bottom, satisfied to let the world rush by. It occurred to Erick that not much separated his own existence from that of the protruding rocks. Like him, they were barely above the water and doing nothing about it. They stood taller than the others, but allowed their surroundings to slowly break them apart. And just like the rocks, if he stayed still long enough he would become broken and weathered, a motionless stone at the bottom of a river.

Erick tromped to the other side a
nd sat on the bank with his head in his hands. Emmeline wouldn’t have wanted him to give up on life, which was what he had done. He needed to move on or be weathered down into nothing. He needed to take action. He just didn’t know what action to take. Could he win her heart back? How could he prove to her that he could give her happiness? That he could go slower, let her choose the pace of their lives?

He glanced down the river and
straightened. Not ten yards from where he sat rested a fallen tree he and Emmeline had once escaped to for time alone. They had wasted hours laughing and talking about nothing at all.

Erick walked to the log and
slumped on the rough bark. He put his head in his hands again, the despair threatening to take over his body. He missed her so much. Her smile, her laugh, the spark of fire in her eyes. All of it. He missed it all.

He wanted to succumb to the pain, to let it pull him under again
, but the roar of the river reminded him of his resolve. He would win her back. He wouldn’t stand by and let her go. He would give her a choice. He just hoped that choice would allow him back into her life.

A
glimmer of light caught his eye and he turned to find a delicate silver chain hanging from the tip of a low branch. He pulled on the chain and a pendant in the shape of a swan swung from the bottom, the swan’s wings spread in preparation for flight. His heart thumped in his chest. Flipping the necklace around, he nearly choked when he read the inscription.

“May your wings set you free.”

Emmeline.

It was
the necklace he had given her on the night of the masked festival, before she discovered he was the Crown Prince. His heart sunk. She must have torn it off. She didn’t even want a reminder of him in her new life.

Erick
couldn’t contain the agony bursting inside of him. Fresh waves of pain radiated from his chest and consumed his entire body. She didn’t want him. A rare tear burned down his cheek as he stared at the delicate necklace in his hand. Unable to help himself, he curled his fingers around the chain and let his grief paralyze him.

Emmeline grabbed O’fin around the waist and tossed him over the broken edge of the crate. She lifted her leg to follow, but the pirate reached out to grab her before she could make a step. He snatched her upper arm and pulled her toward him, his cutlass pressed to her throat.

“
Just where do ye think yer going?”

“Unhand me!” Emmeline shouted.

“And miss all th’ fun?
I think not.” He breathed into her hair.

Removing the
cutlass from her throat, he pressed his palm over her mouth and nose, cutting off her scream. She kicked and thrashed, but his grip tightened as he dragged her toward the hold.

“Let go of her!” O
’fin said as he tugged on the pirate’s arm.

The pirate ignored him, as did everyone else
, it seemed. The chaos of the battle kept anyone from noticing the pirate dragging her away and Emmeline knew her survival was up to her alone. She dug her heels into the slick deck and rammed her elbow into his gut, but nothing she did slowed him as they descended toward the dark hold.

O’fin snatched a long piece of splintered wood and
swung hard.

“Let go of her!”
he shouted.

The pirate growled and swung Emmeline around, her legs flying out toward O’fin. She yelped and tucked her legs in, but it wasn’t soon enough. Her toes curled as
her heels smacked against his cheek. O’fin whimpered and crumbled to the floor.

“O’fin!” Emmeline cried
into the pirate’s hand. But O’fin didn’t stir.

The pirate tugged her further into the darkness and
tossed her to floor. She scrambled back and grabbed hold of the first thing her hands touched.

An old lantern.

Without a moment’s thought she swung the lantern at the pirate’s head. His arm deflected and his other hand snatched the bottom of it, yanking it from her hands.

The pirate c
huckled. “Blimey! Does th’ lass wants a better look?”

Emmeline held her breath, afraid to hope
that the pirate was dumb enough to light the lantern. She only needed one flame. The pirate dug into his pocket and came out with a sulfur stick.

“Do you want more light, lassy?”

Emmeline paused. If he had any desire for her power, an onslaught of need would consume her the moment he struck the sulfer stick. “Yes,” she said after a moment, taking a chance that she could withstand the fire’s call.

The pirate chuckled again and scratched the stick along the wall.
A flame burst to life and Emmeline sucked in her breath, waiting for the overwhelming need to consume her. The pirate brought the sulfur stick to the lantern and soon the glass glowed against his wrinkled face. With a long black beard, bushy eyebrows, and a ring through his nose, he looked the part of a pirate, and behaved like one too. He winked and Emmeline suppressed a shudder.

And then she smiled.
She felt nothing. No pull toward the flame, no uncontrollable desires to draw in its heat. He had no idea who she was.

“Now there’s yer smile,” the pirate said
.

Emmeline closed
her eyes and pulled at the fire, letting it fill her chest with warmth. Heat. Power. She pulled in more. Every vein, every muscle, every bone seemed to sigh with relief, as if quenched by a thirst that had lasted for years. A thirst only fire could satisfy.

She opened her eyes and the pirate
took a step back, his brows drawn together. He looked unsure, confused, frightened even. But she didn’t care. She took in one last pull and the flame sputtered out.

Emmeline
could hear the pirate fumbling in his pocket for another sulfur stick, but she didn’t need another flame. She had what she needed. With one hand out, palm facing the pirate, she released a pulse of heat toward him. He stumbled back and a dull thwack filled the air. She pushed again and the crates behind him buckled.

Emmeline waited
, gauging how much heat she had left in her. Not much. The pirate moaned as his hands slapped against the floor. Another sulfur stick burst to life and Emmeline took in a slow pull, careful not to let the flame die before it reached the end of the stick.

The pirate glanced around the room and then his eyes landed on Emmeline, his brow creased. He reached to pick up the lantern and
brought the dying flame to the wick. The room filled with a warm glow, casting shadows against the boarded walls.

“
I don’t know what yer playin’ at, but there’ll be plenty of time for that later,” the pirate said with a smile.

Emmeline
grimaced. With her left hand in a fist, she thrust it forward, her fingers spreading wide. A crate burst open as if an explosive had been set off inside and the air filled with a powdery smoke.

The pirate held his
arms over his head. “Blimey!”

Emmeline
pushed a wall of heat into his chest as flour settled over the crates and boxes, turning everything into a dirty shade of white. Lifting both her arms, she brushed her hands out to the side and the crates crashed into the walls of the hold, sending a fresh plume of flour into the air.

Drawing more power from the flame, she sent a
swirl of heat above her. Every tiny granule gathered into a thick, turning mass until it grew larger, more powerful. It twisted on itself faster and faster until a hot wind swirled around the room.

“Y
er a witch!” The pirate choked out the last word. “A
fire
witch.”

“
Yes, I am,” Emmeline shouted, her hair whipping across her face. “And I have the power to crush your skull.

The pirate dropped his arms and met her gaze, his eyes squinting against the wind.
“But ye won’t.”

Emmeline paused. He was right. She wouldn’t kill again
. But he couldn’t possibly know that.

“
What else can I do?” she asked. “You’ve attacked my ship, and my friend. Who’s to say you won’t come after me again.”

The pirate licked his lips. “
Aye! You bet yer britches I’ll come for ye. Again and again. Yer worth more gold than a lifetime of piratin’.”

“Emmeline!” a small voice called from above.

O’fin.

Emmeline glared at the pirate
. She didn’t have time to parry with him, but she couldn’t leave him free to follow her. Pulling in more heat, she shoved the flour whirlwind into his face, pushing the particles into every opening and crevice. The pirate screamed and pressed his fingers to his eyes.

“Ye ‘ave blinded me!”

Gathering more heat, Emmeline used it to push him against the corner. He rolled back, head over heels until he slammed into the wall. He squealed like a frightened pig and crouched low, his hands still pressed to his eyes. Before he could recover, Emmeline drove wood from the broken crate into the walls on either side of him, entrapping him against the ship. He squealed again and pounded his fists against the slats.

“Ye be feedin’ the fish before I’m through with ye!” he shouted.

Emmeline laughed and lifted her hands in the air, her palms cupped. A dozen crates lifted and with a quick turn of her wrists, they slammed all around him, sealing off his cage. Satisfied, Emmeline whirled around and dashed up the stairs.

“O’fin,
” she whispered once she reached him. She scooped him into her arms. “Are you all right?”

O’fin nodded, his hands wiping away a streak of tears
. “I thought you were gone forever.”

“
Shhh. There now. Everything will be fine.”

O’fin buried his head into her shoulder.
“No, it won’t,” he cried.

“Come now,” she said, taking his hand and leading him
up the corridor. “I’m going to end this. As much as I hate Tiergan, the pirates are worse.”

Rather than taking the stairs to the main deck, where the battle raged on, Emmeline veered t
o the right toward the gun room. Four solid iron cannons squatted along the hull, their noses jutting out the open ports. Just as she had hoped, a three-foot sulfur stick sat lit in its holder, ready to use.

Emmeline extracted as much heat as the flame would allow. She couldn’t let it lose its
strength, but she needed more. She
wanted
more. Her body strengthened and her aches softened from its healing power. She moaned and took on more heat. Why had she let herself refrain from her natural gift for so long? Overturning a bottle of rum she let its amber liquid spill over a crate before she tossed the sulfur stick onto the soaked wood. The crate burst into fire and within seconds flames licked up the sides of the walls.

“Emmeline!” O’fin shouted over the crackling heat. “What are you doing?”

Emmeline gathered more heat, enough to sink the ship if she wanted. Its power filled every crevice of her body, every empty space that had fissured open the moment she pushed Erick out of her life. For an instant, she felt whole again, but she knew it wouldn’t last. As soon as she used up the heat inside her, she would be left with nothing but the reminder that she was alone. Nothing would heal her ache for Erick.

Taking O’fin’s hand again, Emmeline marched up the stairs to the main deck. The fire trailed behind her,
creeping along the walls as if it needed her as much as she craved it.

The
y emerged into a haze of gun smoke. Tiergan’s men were dropping left and right, and Emmeline knew that if she didn’t do something soon, the pirates would overtake them. She released O’fin’s hand and pointed toward another empty crate.

O’fin shook his head. “I can help you.”

“I know you can, but I can’t guarantee that what I’m about to do will leave you unharmed. I’m a little unpracticed. I need to know you are safe and out of the way.”

O’fin studied her face and
then nodded.

Emmeline took his shoulders in both her hands. “Stay there until you a
re sure it is safe to come out.”

O’fin nodded again.

“Good boy.” She gave him a little push in the direction of the crate and watched him dart underneath. And then she stepped away from the door opening and charged forward. It was time to fight.