Emily and the Pirates

Richard scowled at her and she made an apologetic expression. Her gaze traveled from his face to the charred remains of his glove, which were clinging loosely to--

Emily gasped. "Your hand!"

Blackened, smoking strips of leather fell away to reveal a rough gray surface which instantly brought to mind Aria and the other statues of Castle Elid. Captain Richard's left hand was made of stone.

He sighed. "I suppose my secret's out. No point trying to hide it anymore." With this, he removed the intact glove from his right hand and rolled up both sleeves to the elbow, then held both arms out for Emily to examine.

Each hand was a granite statue in the likeness of a human hand, finely carved but maintaining the natural coarseness of the material. There was a slight mechanical nature to the way Richard moved his fingers, and as he waggled them for Emily, she noted the same look of concentration that she'd seen when he moved the Stoneshell. In retrospect, his violin-playing seemed even more impressive. Each hand terminated in a thick cuff below which Richard's arms appeared normal.

"What happened to you?" Emily asked. She wondered if the way his hands had been turned to stone was in any way similar or applicable to how Aria had been turned to stone. Could he be of use in her quest to restore Aria to flesh?

Richard sat back down on the couch, looking tired, regarding Emily with an unreadable gaze. "You are not disgusted?"

"Some of my best friends are made of stone," Emily replied, smiling gently.

Richard's eyes flashed for the briefest moment before resuming their inscrutable expression. "I was born without hands," he said, regarding his stony fingers. "I grew up in a workhouse, abandoned by my parents without ever knowing them. The other children mocked me. I was constantly berated for being slow and clumsy in my work, deprived of rations, and given the worst of everything."

Emily could feel the bitterness in his words and it made her shudder.

"Anger at my treatment fueled me. It made me strong, cunning, resourceful. Over time, I learned to use my stumps, to overcome my limitations, to bend the world to my will." Here, the fingers of Richard's right hand clenched into a fist. "I transformed from an object of ridicule into something to be feared, once they learned that a stump could punch just as hard as a fist. The mockery stopped, was replaced with cold silences when I would enter a room."

Richard stood up from the couch and began to pace across the room. "The masters of the workhouse noticed my effect on the other children. They called me cruel and arrogant. I suppose they were right. To punish me, they gave me harder, more solitary jobs, culminating in a week's hard labor breaking rocks in the quarry."

Richard's eyes locked on Emily's. "I could not have asked for a greater gift." He curled and uncurled his fingers, and a small, smooth stone jumped from one of his coat pockets and hung suspended above his outstretched palm.

"Oh, it was difficult at first! The other boys were twice my size, and there I was, trying to swing a pickaxe between my two stumps. It was hopeless, really. After dark on the first day, I stood before the same rock I'd been trying to split all day, worn out and bruised. And I stared at it with such hateful intensity that it just... broke."

The stone hovering in the air exploded into shrapnel, and Emily ducked reflexively, burying her head in the couch.

Richard laughed. "Do not worry, Emily, I would never do anything to hurt you."

Emily tentatively raised her head. Small shards of stone hung suspended in the air, one mere inches from her face. Richard closed his hand, and they flew together again, reforming the smooth, round stone.

"I immediately repeated the feat with another rock. And another. Until I was absolutely certain that I could break through solid stone with the power of my mind. It took a few days before I discovered that I could move it as well, even reshape it."

The round stone floating in the air between them reformed into a cube, and then a pyramid, and then a many-pointed star. Emily gazed upon it in wonder, her own training with the Stoneshell's fire powers in the back of her mind.

"Once I was confident in my abilities, I left the workhouse. They gave chase, of course, but with a flick of my fingers, the road rose up to meet them." The many-pointed star flattened out into a thin slab before twisting and roiling like a wave, and Richard grinned devilishly. He had been slowly edging back towards the couch throughout his story, and now took a seat once more, staring intently into Emily's eyes.

"You understand," said Richard softly. "I can see it in your eyes. And of course you would! You are a mistress of fire, I a master of stone. We have been set aside by fate for special purposes, great and terrible destinies."

Emily felt the touch of cold stone on her fingers.

"We are two of a kind, you and I." Richard's fingers coiled around Emily's, firm and rigid, and she felt his other hand against her side. "Conduits for the elements, brought together by fate."

Before she quite knew what was happening, Richard's lips were pressed against hers, and then his whole body was on top of her. He smelled of rum and burned leather. Emily went stiff with panic, eyes wide and staring.

Richard seemed not to notice--he held her firm in his arms. She felt the Stoneshell move against her chest and watched in horror as it began to change shape. As it flattened out, five tendrils of stone emerged from it, forming the shape of a hand. A pained scream echoed across Emily's mind--the Stoneshell was in pain.

Then the hand stumbled forward, its stony fingers stabbing at her upper chest, moving lower, then prodding the softer flesh of her breasts. Richard grunted with pleasure. The tiny hand moved lower until its fingers were on the knot that tied the two bottom corners of her buttonless shirt together. With surprising dexterity and speed, it undid the knot.

That was enough. As if waking from a dream, Emily turned from rigid shock to squirming, trashing terror. "Get off!" she screamed, tearing her face from Richard's and pushing against his chest. The Stoneshell glowed orange, still responsive to her thoughts in its altered state, and a ball of fire exploded between her and Richard for the second time that evening.

All at once, the weight was off her. Richard screamed in pain and stumbled backward, then tripped and rolled across the floor. At once, Emily was off the couch, on her feet, eyes flashing with anger. Her open shirt billowed around her, but she barely noticed. Plumes of flame hovered above both of her outstretched palms and she readied herself to strike.

"I wouldn't do that!" Richard growled, scrambling to his feet. Smoke rose from his coat and beard, but he appeared mostly unharmed. "You'll burn this whole ship up!"

"So what?!" Emily spat. "I don't need your ship, you creep!"

"You may not, but your friend does." Richard chuckled darkly, meeting Emily's furious gaze with a smug look.

Emily's anger was softened by confusion. "My friend?"

"Stone lady," Richard continued. "Met her on a beach, not too far from here. She told us she was waiting there for her friend, a girl who had gone to visit the merfolk. Fiesty one, she was. There was a brief struggle. But she was made of stone. Fatal weakness."

Emily felt sick to her stomach. "What did you do to her?!"

"She's an honored and cherished guest aboard the Sea Serpent, just like yourself. Though we had to take precautions--can't have her killing my men, now can I? No matter how much they'll pay for a specimen like her in Altwern."

"P-pay?!"

"Yes, pay. I was thinking of giving you a share, before that little outburst."

The flames in Emily's hands grew, filling the cabin with light. "You bastard!"

Richard cocked an eyebrow. "We are pirates, love. And again, I'll warn you to be careful with that fire of yours. The wooden frame of this ship is all that stands between your friend and an eternity at the bottom of the ocean. I know a thing or two about stone and I can assure you--it doesn't float."

The fire in Emily's hands went out and her arms slumped uselessly at her sides. The stone slab, which had been sitting on the dinner table, lifted up and flew towards her, hitting her in the wrist and knocking it back. Emily cried out at the sharp pain.

Another stone slab zoomed out of a set of shelving and hit her other wrist. Then both slabs began to reshape, encircling her wrists and moving them towards each other. The slabs connected, firmly pinning her hands behind her back.

Richard stepped towards her, smirking in triumph. His eyes slowly traveled up and down her body, reminding Emily that her top had come undone and now hung loosely at her sides, exposing both breasts. With her hands firmly secured behind her back, there was nothing she could do to cover them.

"I think it's about time for a reunion," Richard said, grabbing Emily's upper arm. "I'm afraid you'll find the holding cell a lot less comfortable than this cabin, but you must understand that I reserve this ship's few comforts for guests who are a little more... pliant."

Richard stared pointedly at Emily's uncovered breasts and she scowled up at him. "That knot was just begging to be untied, you know. Don't you think it was clever how I turned that shell--ho, what's this?"

Richard's attention had moved from Emily's breasts to the stone pendant that hung between them. It was shaped, once more, like a seashell.

"So this is a magical necklace, then?" Richard asked. "The glow made me suspect it might be, but this confirms it. It would certainly explain why you were so defensive of it. And perhaps..." Richard took a step back and swept up the small book that Emily had left lying on her chair. "The Stoneshell," he said, flipping through the pages. "Hmm... fire powers. How interesting."

Richard took a step towards Emily, lifting a stone palm towards her. He clenched his fingers, and Emily felt a sharp pull at the back of her neck. Then there was a small, metallic snap as the chain around her neck unclasped.

Like a piece of metal drawn to a powerful magnet, the Stoneshell shot into Richard's palm. He grinned toothily as his fingers closed around it, covering it entirely. "I'll hold onto this for now."

Emily tried to summon the Stoneshell, but she could feel a force working against her will. The Stoneshell's influence on her mind, usually a calming, focusing effect, felt panicked and frightened.

"Haha, that tickles!" Richard said.

Emily spat in his face.

"Mule!" Richard cried, yanking her arm so hard it felt like he was trying to dislocate her shoulder.

Emily stumbled forward as Richard marched her out of his cabin and into the hallway. He forced her to walk ahead of them through the hallway and down narrow stairs. The lighting was dim, provided by sparsely placed lanterns, but this did little to conceal Emily from view.

A few times, they passed members of the crew. The solitary ones would leer at her chest, intently watching the movement of her breasts as Richard forced her ahead of him. The groups would catcall and make crude comments to each other.

"Been at sea so long I'd forgotten what those looked like."

"Buoyant-looking, aren't they?"

"My turn next, Cap'n!"

Richard ignored them, his face firmly set in a stern expression. Emily wished she could be half so oblivious, but the best she could do was stare at the floor, hiding her blushing cheeks.

As they descended further into the bowels of the ship, the air grew colder and damper, and Emily could feel goosebumps rising on her flesh. The sound of dripping water came to her ears.

Finally, they reached their destination--the ship's holding cell. Richard pushed open the heavy iron door, hinges squealing in protest, and shoved Emily inside, deliberately pushing her off-balance. She tripped and her body slammed against the cold, hard stone floor.

The door slammed shut. Emily rolled over, wincing as pain shot through her shoulder. Her chest heaved from the rapid march, and her hair fell in front of her face and obscured her vision. The stone restraint still held her wrists firmly in place behind her back. Emily blinked back tears, refusing to break down.

"Who's there?" someone asked.

The voice was unfamiliar and spoke with an accent Emily had not yet heard anywhere else in Thessolan. It was female and very high-pitched.

"Please," continued the voice, weak and mournful, "can you do anything to help my friend? She's not moving."

With a grunt of effort, Emily rolled over again and hauled herself into a sitting position. With a bit more effort, she managed to stand--this was no easy feat with her hands stuck behind her back. She gazed into the darkness, and the outlines of shapes began to form as her eyes adjusted.

The speaker was a woman whom Emily took to be around the same age as herself, though about a head shorter. She had jet-black hair and dark brown eyes. More noticeable were her pointed ears and her skin, which was a light shade of green and criss-crossed with patterns of leaves. And there was quite a lot of green skin on display, for she was entirely naked.

The green woman gestured towards a tall shape in the corner. Emily recognized its silhouette immediately. The shape was Aria. And with the Stoneshell separated from Emily's person, she was completely frozen. From the look on her face, she appeared to have been in mid-sentence.

Tears welled up in Emily's eyes, and this time she couldn't contain them. She fell to her knees, her whole body wracked in sobs, her throat twisted with cries of deep anguish.

Then she felt arms wrap around her and the warmth of another body against hers. The green girl's skin was extraordinarily soft and smooth, and her hand made slow, soothing motions up and down Emily's back. Emily wanted to return the embrace, but her arms were still immobile. So instead, she buried her face in the green girl's shoulder.

This position was maintained until Emily felt all cried out, which took a while. She had a lot to cry about, after all--her displacement from everything and everyone she had ever known, the dangerous encounters she'd had with strange and evil people, the enormous burden that adopting the Stoneshell had laid upon her, her guilt at allowing Aria to once again become an immobile statue and the constant discomfort and shame of being naked in front of so many.

Maybe this green girl could empathize with her on some of those counts. Certainly the last one. She pulled away from the girl's shoulder and looked her in the eyes.

"What's your name?" asked Emily, her throat hoarse from crying.

"Talyndra of the Moss-Whisperers," said the girl.

"I'm Emily. And as to whether I can help Aria, well, I do at least know what's wrong with her."

Talyndra's face lit up, and she hugged Emily again. "You are Emily! How wonderful! Aria has told me so much about you." She pulled away and looked searchingly at Emily's chest. "But where is..."

"He took the Stoneshell," Emily replied bitterly. "Richard, the pirate captain. He has some kind of magical power over stone."

"Yes, yes, he cornered me on a stony beach," said Talyndra. "That is the last time I venture so far from the woods. And he has prevented Aria from using her hands." She gestured to Aria, whom Emily now noticed had her arms crossed over the front of her body, with the sleeves of her gown drawn up over her hands. It looked like she was wearing a straitjacket.

Emily and Talyndra shared their stories with each other, though Talyndra knew much of what had happened to Emily from Aria's telling. Talyndra was a wood elf from a common family who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Wood elves were not often caught by human slavers, a fact she admitted with great shame. She had been caught long before Aria. In fact, she'd been on the ship for so long that the leaves of her outfit had rotted away. "This is not usually a problem for us, as we seldom leave our woods, and can refresh our outfits as often as we need to."

"I know exactly how you feel," said Emily, smiling sympathetically. "I've had a lot of trouble with clothing since I got to this world. Heck, this is, like, the second most complete outfit I've had in weeks, sad as that is." She pouted as she glanced down at her exposed front.

Momentarily, Emily thought of asking Talyndra to tie the ends of her shirt in a knot again but then felt guilty about it. How could she ask Talyndra to help her preserve her modesty when the poor girl had nothing to wear herself? Instead, Emily voiced another thought that had just occurred to her. "How come your hands are free and mine and Aria's aren't?"

Talyndra smiled devilishly and gestured at a coil of rope piled in the corner of the cell. "I held my wrists slightly apart when they first captured me so that the rope would be loose. They have tried to tie my hands a few times since, but they have no appreciation for the suppleness of wood elf wrists."

"Brilliant! Wish I could have done something like that against Richard's stone magic, but these are stuck tight." Emily grimaced as she made a futile attempt to move her wrists inside the stone restraints.

"Could you not use your own magic against him? Aria told me of the Stoneshell's powers."

"I..." Emily's voice dried in her throat. Richard had caught her off-guard when he mentioned Aria, filled her mind with terror at the destructiveness of her own power. So much so that she had given up without a fight. Maybe she could have done better.

"N-never mind," Talyndra said hastily, placing a comforting hand on Emily's shoulder. "I'm hardly one to talk. A majestic wood elf, captured by brutish, lumbering humans--no offense."

Emily cracked a smile. "But tell me what you really think."

Talyndra and Emily talked long into the night, exchanging stories of their worlds, each of which was equally strange and fantastic to the other. Every now and then, Emily cast a sad glance at Aria, standing motionless in the corner, and wondered if she could hear them. Whatever it took, she would get the Stoneshell back.

When their yawns finally overtook their words, Emily and Talyndra retired to a pair of dirty, threadbare mattresses that lay at one end of the prison cell and attempted to sleep. With her hands still stuck behind her back, Emily had to lie on her front, which didn't help matters. But eventually, sleep overcame her.

The next morning, Emily was awoken by jeers. The voice that spoke to them was cruel and coarse. "Eat up, curr! Get your face in it, you filthy animal!"

Staying motionless, careful to give any indication that she was awake, Emily peered carefully through the lids of one eye. In the center of the cell, Talyndra crouched on her knees, a ceramic bowl on the floor a few inches in front of her. She appeared to be making the best of a highly undignified position.

The source of the voice was a pirate who stood at the door, watching her intently. "Come on, eat! Let me hear you chew! Get that butt up in the air!" Talyndra flinched a few times but did not otherwise react to his taunts.

"The stone bitch is real quiet today, why is that?" the pirate asked. "The new girl too... what did you do to 'em, Elfy? Some woodland devilry, I've no doubt."

Talyndra made no response.

An indistinct voice from somewhere above them shouted incoherently and a slightly panicked expression crossed the pirate's face. "Can't get a bloody moment," he muttered under his breath before turning tail and slamming the cell door behind him.

Once the bolt had been drawn on the door and the pirate's footsteps had disappeared, Talyndra arranged herself into a cross-legged sitting position. Balancing the bowl on her ankles, she reached for a discarded spoon. Then, looking Emily straight in the eyes, she said, "Ah, you're awake. Sorry you had to see that."