Pirate's Promise Sample Chapter

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

In Pirate's Promise, Torius Vin is perfectly happy with his life as a pirate captain, sailing the Inner Sea with a bold crew of buccaneers and Celeste, his snake-bodied navigator and one true love. Yet all that changes when his sometimes-friend Vreva Jhafae—a high-powered courtesan and abolitionist spy in the slaver stronghold of Okeno—draws him into her shadowy network of secret agents. Caught between the slavers he hates and a navy that sees him as a criminal, can Torius continue to choose the path of piracy? Or will he sign on as a privateer, bringing freedom to others—at the price of his own?

Chapter One: Auspicious Arrivals

Raucous laughter shook every cup and tankard in the bar. Windy Kate wiped ale from her chin and handed over a silver coin, having just lost a bet that she could drink a tankard without touching it with her hands or spilling any. Torius Vin leaned comfortably against the bar, close enough for a good view, but far enough to avoid getting wet.

"They're a noisy lot." The barkeep scowled as he refilled Torius's glass.

"Just a little well-deserved celebration." Torius sipped the fine spiced rum. The barkeep might not like Stargazer's boisterous crew, but he couldn't complain about the coin they were spending.

"We might be noisy, but we smell good!" Grogul drained his tankard and thumped it down on the bar, grinning at his captain. "Damn near forgot what it was like to be really clean. Thanks again, Captain."

"The least I could do." After a month at sea, springing for a stint at Trillia's Bathhouse for his entire crew had been worth every scarab. Besides, he could afford it.

Torius sipped, surveyed the well-mannered debauchery, and sighed in contentment. The scam they had just pulled off had been a near thing, but even after subtracting Vreva Jhafae's cut and the crew's shares, he had more gold than he could imagine spending. He could buy another ship and still have enough to live handsomely for years.

"A shame Celeste couldn't join us." Grogul accepted his refilled tankard and quaffed a third of it.

Torius doubted that Celeste regretted using all her daily transformation spells on the trip to Trillia's. Lunar nagas didn't sweat, and a quick swipe with a damp cloth was enough to cleanse her scales of dust and dirt, so their trip to the bathhouse had been a novel experience. He smiled as he recalled her look of delight as she immersed her human form into the hot, sudsy water, reveling in the luxury.

"She's busy planning our trip to the Observatory anyway."

More laughter rang from the betting circle. One of the caravan guards with whom the Stargazers were competing had spilled ale all over himself, and good-naturedly handed a silver back to Windy Kate. She wiped the ale from his chin with a sultry gleam in her eye amid the hoots of the onlookers.

"When you leavin'?" Grogul asked.

"Oh, not for a few days, at least. I need to discuss the alterations to Stargazer with Snick, and set up an account that she and Thillion can draw on for the work."

Grogul snorted. "Give that gnome free rein, and she'll spend you into the poorhouse."

Torius couldn't deny the truth of that. He'd already ordered Thillion to keep Snick's modifications under close supervision.

"And how long's this little vacation gonna take?" Grogul sipped his ale and narrowed his eyes at his captain, but Torius just grinned.

"A few weeks at least, more likely a month. Why? Are you bored already?"

"Just thinkin' about the crew sittin' in Katapesh for so long with nothin' to do. Boredom and money are a dangerous combination."

"Once Stargazer's back to her old self, Thillion could run a load of cargo up to Absalom or Sothis."

"Aye, that might keep 'em out of trouble." Grogul scratched his chin in thought. "Fenric should be able to handle the crew for a simple cargo run."

"Fenric?" Torius cocked an eyebrow. "And where will you be?"

"With you, of course. The desert's a dangerous place! Got a few others picked out to—"

A harsh shout and a crash brought the festivities to an abrupt halt.

"Uh-oh." Grogul slammed his tankard down, his eyes suddenly as sharp as the two kukris tucked through his sash.

Torius followed his bosun's gaze and saw Fenric with a bared cutlass in his hand. The Stargazers and caravan guards glared at one another across the tankard-littered table. Between them, Windy Kate slumped in a chair, spilled ale dampening her lap. Two more Stargazers sprawled in similar conditions nearby.

The hairs stood up on the back of Torius's neck. Something was wrong. Later in the evening, after much more drinking, passed-out crew members would not have been an untoward occurrence. But this early? Not a chance.

"No fighting!" the barkeep bellowed over the growls of the crowd.

"I'll handle this." Torius strode forward, Grogul at his flank. "What's going on here, Fenric?"

The bosun's mate pointed his cutlass at one of the caravan guards, a swarthy man with short-cropped hair and a long, angular jaw. "That motherless son of a scrub slipped somethin' in Kate's ale! She's out like yesterday's bilge water! Troy and Fenthis, too!"

"That's a load of camel dung!" the man protested. "They just can't hold their booze!"

One glance and Torius knew the man was lying. But why would they be drugging his sailors? He bristled with rage when he considered that they might be slavers out to supplement their stock by preying on the unwary. Whatever they were, they were outnumbered. Though Torius had no doubt that his score of pirates would prevail over a dozen caravan guards, a fight would be bad. Katapesh was their home port, and the Zephyr Guard enforced the laws of the Pactmasters with unwavering efficiency. A little diplomacy was called for.

"Stow your blade, Fenric." The man dutifully slid his cutlass into its sheath. Torius nodded toward the door as he glared at the caravan guards. "Now, you all move on to another bar. We don't like your tricks and we're not going to play your games."

"You move on! We were here first!" Spittle flew from the leader's bared teeth, and his hand edged closer to the hilt of the gleaming axe at his hip.

"Now friend, you really don't want to start something you can't finish." Torius nodded to his grim-faced crew. "We don't want trouble, but—"

Six more Stargazers suddenly crumpled to the floor, taking the pirates' numerical advantage with them. Torius's stomach clenched, and as he reached for his cutlass, he realized just how much trouble they were in.

The leader's eyes gleamed with malice as his face and form changed. His jaw elongated and opened wide, baring prominent canines dripping with saliva. Thick fur sprouted from his skin, and his legs bent backward into the limbs of a bipedal canine.

"What in the name of Gozreh?" Torius doubted if even the sea god could give him an answer. He recognized the features and coloration of the jackals he'd seen in the wildlands around Katapesh. Only those were much smaller and didn't clutch weapons in claw-tipped hands.

The leader's axe flashed as the werejackal lunged at Torius.

"Stargazers!" As Torius drew his cutlass to parry, a kukri flashed past his ear to cut a deep line in the werejackal's neck, ruining the creature's aim. Torius turned his parry into a slash that opened the other side of his assailant's neck, and the beast went down in a spray of blood.

The barkeep's high-pitched shouts rose over the din, but none paid heed. Accustomed to fighting in tight quarters and on uneven footing, the pirates reacted as a single unit. Fenric kicked the table into two more charging werejackals and fought off a third, while the remaining Stargazers formed up to protect their unconscious comrades.

Grogul snatched up the fallen werejackal's axe and stepped to Torius's side. "Come on!" His bellow shook the walls and, from the sudden doubt in the eyes of the leaderless werejackals, their morale as well.

In the brief lull, Torius considered reining in his pirates, but the werejackals had obviously been trying to kidnap some of his people, either to sell as slaves or to have for dinner. To let them go without a proper lesson simply wouldn't do. Torius grinned at the snarling creatures. "It's time we taught these curs how to heel! Have at 'em, Stargazers!"

The pirates leapt to the attack, battle cries rising from their throats. The werejackals met the assault with blades and gnashing teeth. Torius's new opponent was a quick creature wielding a jagged scimitar and a set of fangs capped with sharpened steel. Parrying the scimitar with his cutlass, Torius drew his fighting dagger and plunged the blade into the toothy maw. Teeth like sabers raked the back of his hand, but the tip of the blade pierced the back of the creature's throat. Hot blood gushed out over Torius's hand and the werejackal fell twitching to the floor. To his left, Grogul's axe reduced his opponent's skull to a spray of shattered bone and meat, while to his right, Fenric scored a deep gash in his adversary's arm.

In no time, half of the werejackals were on the floor, either bleeding or dead. The survivors disengaged and dashed for the exits. The Stargazers let them go, chasing them only with a resounding cheer of victory.

"For Stargazer!" Torius thrust his cutlass high in the air.

His crew cheered and waved their weapons in menacing arcs, more inebriated by their victory than the ale and rum they'd imbibed. Only two Stargazers had taken wounds, neither serious. Torius wiped his sword clean on the tattered shirt of the werejackal leader, snapped it into its scabbard, and bellowed for a round of drinks. The barkeep was nowhere to be found, however, so Torius took the liberty of grabbing a bottle of rum from behind the bar and emptying it into the cups and tankards of his cheering crew. The ones who had fallen unconscious roused easily enough, though they were upset at having missed the fun. Windy Kate, Troy, and Fenthis blinked in confusion, unsure of what had happened.

Torius raised his cup high and shouted for silence. "To the crew of Stargazer! Best damn buccaneers in the whole Inner Sea!"

Torius quaffed his rum amid the cheers of his crew and started pouring the next round, but their celebration was interrupted by a hard-toned shout from the tavern's entrance.

"Drop your weapons in the name of the Zephyr Guard!"

As one, the Stargazers turned toward this new threat. Torius heard a low growl from his bosun's throat, but he knew instantly that this was not a fight they could win. A half-dozen troops flanked the Zephyr Guard squad leader, who had not even drawn her sword. She had no need to. The monstrous aluum that ducked low to enter the tavern ensured her safety. Humanoid in shape, but twice the height of Grogul, the aluum eyed them passionlessly. Created and controlled by the Pactmasters, the virtually indestructible magical constructs were powered by the bound souls of executed slaves and prisoners, and knew no mercy.

"Stand down, Stargazers." Torius waved his crew back and strode forward, executing a respectful bow to the squad leader. She wore no badge of rank other than the gleaming blue gem dangling around her neck. She needed no other badge, for that trinket commanded the hulking aluum. "I'm glad you arrived. We were beset by these creatures and had just managed to fight them off." He waved a hand at the dead werejackals.

"He wrecked my bar!" The barkeep advanced from behind the Zephyrs. He pointed at the broken furniture, blood, and gore that littered the floor. "I'm ruined!"

"Oh, you're not ruined, man," Torius argued. "Nothing that a carpenter and a little soap and water won't fix! And we didn't do any of the wrecking! Three of my people were drugged, several more rendered unconscious, and we were attacked. You saw it happen!"

"I saw nothing of the kind!" A gleam of avarice outshone the despondency in the bartender's eyes for just a moment, but long enough to show Torius the game he would play. The werejackals were long gone, so the only source of gold left was Torius. "These ruffians were loud and drunk and looking for a fight!"

"We were not." Torius turned to the Zephyr Guard squad leader. "Please, ma'am, my name is Captain Torius Vin. I'm a guildsman in good standing, and these are my crew. Ruffians we are not! We were simply celebrating our arrival in port, and ended up defending ourselves from these creatures. This was not our fault, but since the guilty parties have fled, I'll be happy to pay for the damages."

"I'm pressing charges!" The barkeep folded his arms over his skinny chest in defiance. "It'll take a month to put this place to rights, and I'll lose my lease if I can't bring in customers. My livelihood is ruined!"

Torius refused to even look at the man for fear that he couldn't keep his hands from around his lying throat. "That's a complete fabrication. My crew can have this place spit and polish by tomorrow evening, and I'm willing to do so out of my own pocket. He's after more than his due."

"And what about the rumors? My business will be ruined when the whole city finds out that there were murders here!"

"Nobody's been murdered!" Torius rounded on the man, so furious at the accusations that his hand slipped unthinkingly to the hilt of his sword. "You're lying just to get more money out of me, and I won't stand here and—"

There’s far more to Vreva than meets the eye.

"Enough!" The Zephyr Guard squad leader's shout rivaled Grogul's. Everyone fell silent. "Master Helwek, Captain Vin has offered to pay for damages and repair your establishment out of his own pocket. That sounds fair to me. Will you not have an end to this without bringing the guard into it?"

"I'm pressing charges!" the bartender repeated, his face red. "Disorderly conduct, public drunkenness, destruction of property, and loss of livelihood due to wanton negligence."

"Public drunkenness? Gozreh's guts, man, it's a tavern!"

"Arrest this man! I insist!" He pointed a shaking finger at Torius.

Torius seethed, but managed to compose his face before turning to the squad leader. "My people want no trouble with the Zephyr Guard, ma'am. We'll go quietly, but you better add one more charge to that list."

The woman's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What charge might that be, Captain Vin?"

"Assault."

Now it was the bartender's turn to look confused. "But I wasn't—"

Torius doubled up his fist and cut the bartender's protest short by laying him flat out on the floor. Turning back to the Zephyr Guard squad leader, he dusted off his hands and smiled. "Lead on to the gaol! I hope you've got room for all of us, because Stargazers stick together! Grogul, get Windy Kate and the others."

Amid another round of cheers, the boisterous pirates hoisted their still-woozy mates onto their shoulders.

The squad leader only shook her head and said, "This way, Captain."

∗ ∗ ∗

Vreva paused for a moment at the second landing, just out of sight of the room below, and took a deep breath to still her pounding heart.

*You ready for this? You seem nervous,* Saffron said from the crook of her arm, keeping his meows low.

She looked into the bright yellow eyes of her friend and familiar and smiled. "You're such a worrier," she whispered back. "Of course I'm ready."

She took another breath, and her body responded to the long-practiced technique, calming her singing nerves. Raising her head and moving with majestic grace, she continued down the sweeping marble stair that led to the opulent entry hall of the Inn of the Eighth Sin.

A joyful shout brought all eyes to her, and impromptu applause rose from the crowd. Vreva beamed in the light of their adoration, sweeping an appreciative gaze across the crowd as if astounded that all this fuss was for her. At least fifty Okeno notables—some clients, some not—and a scattering of unknowns crowded the room. It was enough to turn any woman's head, if that woman wasn't more worried about her head ending up in a noose.

"Quopek, you sly dear." At the bottom of the stairs, Vreva playfully slapped the innkeeper's shoulder. "A surprise welcome-home party for me? How sweet of you!"

"Nothing but the best for Okeno's foremost courtesan!" The fat man quivered with excitement. Of course he was happy to see her; he earned ten percent of her profits, and her long absence had undoubtedly cut into his cash flow.

Vreva curtsied with consummate grace and waded into the throng, accepting kisses from those she knew, and proffering her hand to those she did not. Everyone jostled to catch her eye. Her reputation, it seemed, had grown during her sabbatical.

"Absence apparently does make hearts grow fonder," Vreva whispered so quietly that only Saffron could have heard her. None could understand their secret language, but talking to a cat could draw attention. They'd long practiced the art of conversing covertly, even in crowds, her whispers seeming nothing more than an owner's senseless endearments to a beloved pet.

A callused hand caressed the curve of her buttocks, and she barely suppressed the urge to slap it away.

*Absence evidently makes the heart grow randy, too.* Saffron's hiss at the slaver captain needed no interpreter.

"Oh, be civil, Saffron!" Vreva chided. She kissed her familiar on the head, then whispered, "You forget yourself! Now scout the room and report back!" Dropping the cat to the floor, she turned to her groper with a smile. "My apologies, Captain. We've been aboard ship for the better part of a week, and my poor kitty is in a snit."

"No offense taken, Mistress Jhafae," the slaver gushed, giddy with her attention. "We've got cats aboard Hell's Razor, you know. Keeps the rats from chewing up the merchandise!"

Vreva laughed at the supposed witticism, bestowed a smile and subtle caress sufficient to leave him dazzled and momentarily speechless, and continued circulating through the crowd.

"You look gorgeous, my dear. Absolutely gorgeous!"

"Where have you been? It seems like you've been gone for ages!"

"Mistress Jhafae, you simply must put me at the top of your calendar. Even my wife has complained about how edgy I've been, and only you ..."

Compliments, promises, pleas, and questions battered her like waves against a rocky shore, but Vreva responded with the glib dissemblance she had perfected long ago. The physical contact, however, set her teeth on edge. A hand on her arm or a kiss on the cheek roiled her stomach, while the more intimate caresses forced her to suppress violent reprisals. Weeks among pleasanter company had dulled her ability to block the revulsion she felt for these people.

I never thought I'd miss Torius and his boatload of pirates so much!

Vreva caught an empathic flush of urgency, then a flash of delight, and the flavor of seasoned meat flooded her mouth. Someone had dropped a tidbit, and Saffron had pounced. Quashing the sensation with a sip of wine, she broadcasted a thought of stern disapproval.

You have a job to do. Do it! He couldn't actually hear her thoughts, but would get the gist.

"I hope you are quite finished traipsing all around the Inner Sea, Mistress Jhafae."

Vreva recognized the voice and turned to the rotund slave merchant behind her.

"It was just a little holiday, Master Werreg." She accepted his kiss of greeting and did not flinch as his pudgy fingers caressed her hip. Werreg might be a fat lecher, but he was also an important member of the local merchants' council, and a font of information.

"I heard that you were spirited away by the Ruby Prince himself!" Looking pleased by his attempt at flattery, Werreg gave her an ingratiating smile. "I was worried that you'd succumbed to his charms and gone away for good!"

"How could I ever leave my dear friends here?" Vreva caressed his sweaty cheek, tracing the nerve along his jaw. "It was not the Ruby Prince whose company I kept. Just a ...special friend who asked a favor." That was true enough. Torius was a friend, or as close to one as she had. And Quetaal, the commander of the Sothis Guard, with whom she'd kept company there, had been like a breath of fresh air compared to these sniveling traders in human flesh.

"A toast to your favors." Werreg raised his glass, leering openly at her. "May they never run short of supply!"

Laughing, Vreva lifted her own glass in acknowledgment, but as her lips touched the rim, panic surged through her. Then a jolt of pain between her shoulders snapped her head back.

Saffron! The glass trembled in her grasp, and her vision glazed over as she concentrated on Saffron's mental cries. Rage, panic, fear ...trapped!

"Are you all right, Vreva?" Werreg's voice snapped her attention back to a circle of concerned guests.

"Yes, I ...I'm fine. Just a moment's fatigue." Sipping her wine, she attempted to quell the emotional onslaught from her familiar before it overwhelmed her. Considering her arsenal of spells, she silently cursed. Her magic was subtle, tailored to the boudoir, not the battlefield, and certainly not a room full of people. She had to disengage herself from this crowd and find Saffron. Vreva handed off her glass and made her excuses. "I've yet to recover from my voyage. The wine, I'm afraid, is going to my—"

"Is this yours?"

Vreva turned to the unknown man. He wore a snug headscarf in the Keleshite manner, and his beard was trimmed to a neat point. His clothes were rich, and the long whip at one hip and the scimitar at the other gave him a rakish appearance. She might have thought him handsome, except that he dangled Saffron by the scruff in one large, callused hand. The sight sent a surge of ice water through her veins.

"I caught it running loose." He held the cat out, sneering as if he'd just as soon wring the feline's neck.

"Saffron!" The familiar's relief echoed her own as she took the panicked cat in her arms. The ice water turned to fury, and Vreva glared at the man. "I don't know you, sir, but molesting my pet is not a means to garner my favor."

*He smells like blood!* Saffron spat and hissed, mewing dangerously. *His boots and that snake at his belt stink of it! I only sniffed, and he grabbed me!*

"My pardon, Mistress Jhafae." The man nodded and touched his forehead with a flourish. "I am Captain Heclech, master of Sovereign Chain out of Katheer. You must forgive my reaction, but where I'm from, animals belong in cages or on plates, not running free to soil a man's boots."

"My pardon, Captain Heclech, but I must not forgive you." Vreva was dismayed at the harsh words and acerbic tone that tumbled from her lips, attributing them to the waves of rage from Saffron that surged through her mind. "This is not your home, but mine, and in my home, my pet is afforded the same regard as any guest."

*‘Pet' my pink, puckered ass!* Saffron hissed.

"Shhh." She stroked his chin to ease his temper.

"Your home?" Heclech looked around the inn's opulent hall. "I was under the impression that this was Master Quopek's establishment. He keeps many men and women of your sort, does he not?"

"Master Quopek does not keep me, Captain. I come and go as I please." She tried to keep her tone civil, but could not disguise her dislike for the man.

"A fact that has left us all pining for the last many weeks, Captain," Werreg interjected from beside her.

"Yes." Heclech's eyes flicked to the merchant with a sneer of distaste. "This is why I came here, to see this woman who commands such obedience from men."

"I do not command anything, Captain Heclech." Vreva regained her composure and gave him a sultry smile. "They offer their respects willingly."

"Along with a good bit of gold." Werreg laughed, obviously trying to diffuse the situation. "I daresay we're all a bit richer for her recent absence, but I for one intend to pay my respects to her as soon as she'll have me."

"Where I'm from, women of her ilk do not have the respect of men." Heclech turned his eyes to Werreg and grinned a challenge. "And men who curry the favor of such women are little better than dogs."

Werreg paled, his blubbery chins quivering with rage, but he obviously knew better than to take up the man's challenge.

"And in this city, Captain, it's considered rude to insult a lady." The voice over Vreva's shoulder was low with a slight rasp, like well-oiled steel sliding across a fine whetstone.

She recognized the speaker even before Saffron said, *The wine man's behind you.*

Vreva felt a hand settle onto the small of her back and urge her aside. She didn't know whether to be relieved or agitated.

"And this particular lady has friends in very high places." Her champion stepped forward. His dark hair, pale complexion, and richly brocaded clothing marked him as Chelish, while the hand on the gleaming rapier at his hip marked him as a swordsman. Vreva knew that he was neither, but something else entirely.

"If you wish to do business in Okeno, Captain Heclech, and not be shunned like a plague-carrying rodent, you should apologize, and reconsider your opinion of Mistress Jhafae."

"And you are?" Heclech's hand drifted to the scimitar at his waist.

"Captain Fieson Templeton of Devil's Dawn." He made a short, courtly bow, and nodded to Vreva. "Chelish merchant and close personal friend of the lady."

"And by whose authority do you threaten me?"

"Threaten?" Fieson laughed, but his mirth didn't reach his eyes, and his gaze never left Heclech. "Oh, that was no threat, Captain, just a bit of advice. If you treat the lady with contempt, her friends will see to it that you do no business here. It's that simple." He shrugged. "Insult her again and I will personally feed you your own testicles. Now that," he added in a helpful tone, "was a threat."

"Gentlemen, please, you mustn't—"

"She's nothing but a high-priced prostitute!" Heclech stepped aggressively forward, and Vreva eased back a step, realizing the futility of attempting to placate the two men. "And you pay for her favors because you could never earn the attention of—"

The sounds of tearing silk and a wet plop on the marble floor interrupted his tirade.

Heclech's eyes flung wide, his voice caught in a strangled cry. Fieson stepped back as the larger man collapsed to his knees, hands clutching at the flood of crimson down his legs. The crowd gasped, and Vreva turned away, pressing a hand to her mouth in feigned shock. She knew Fieson did not threaten idly and, while he might not be skilled with a sword, he was entirely apt with the stiletto he wore strapped to his forearm beneath his sleeve. His cut had both gelded the man and severed one of the large arteries in his leg.

*Good!* Saffron purred as the man fell into the spreading crimson pool. *Now he smells like his own blood!*

"Captain Templeton! What is the meaning of—" Quopek stepped through the onlookers and gaped. "Abadar's key, man, what have you done?"

"The man insulted our guest of honor." Fieson casually cleaned and sheathed his blade. "After I warned him about his conduct, he insulted me with his hand on his sword. With Mistress Jhafae so near, I had no choice but to carry through with my warning. For her safety, of course." He bowed to Vreva, then the innkeeper. "My apologies to Mistress Jhafae, and to you, Master Quopek, for the mess. I'll be more than happy to pay for the cleanup."

"Well!" Quopek assessed the dead man, the stained marble floor, and the crowd. "I really should call the city guard about—"

"Please, Master Quopek." Vreva stepped forward, fanning herself with her hand as if she might faint. The blood affected her not one bit, but she had a façade to maintain, and needed to avoid calling official attention to the incident. "Captain Templeton was only defending my honor. I've never seen this man before, and I wonder at his motives for coming here. He picked the fight, sir, and he picked it with the wrong man."

A buzz of confirmatory assertions swept through the crowd, lauding Captain Templeton. In the end, Quopek merely called for a flock of slaves to clean up the mess, and shifted the reception to the common room. Vreva sighed with relief as she allowed Templeton to escort her to the new venue. Envious glances followed them as the captain leaned in close.

"I have a present for you, Vreva."

She beamed up at him. "How sweet of you, Captain. And in gratitude for your gallant defense of my honor, you shall have my first appointment. Is tomorrow afternoon good for you?"

"I am at your disposal, my lady," he said with a satisfied smile.

Chris Jackson is the author of the Pathfinder Tales novel Pirate's Honor, as well as the short story "Stargazer," also starring Torius, Celeste, and the rest of their bold crew. For information on his many other award-winning novels and novellas, check out jaxbooks.com or follow him on Twitter at @ChrisAJackson1.

Illustration by Eric Belisle.

Stargazer

by Chris A. Jackson

Chapter Four: A Matter of Commerce

A nondescript wagon creaked down a dark street of the Inner City, the back piled high with canvas-covered wares and the caravaneers perched on the seat and rails. A single horseman rode beside the wagon, looking ill at ease in the saddle. The wagon stopped just before entering a wide, curved avenue, across which loomed an impressive stone mansion. To the casual eye, it looked just like one of the dozens or hundreds of wagons that passed through Katapesh each day.

It wasn't.

"If the wizard I paid was any good, Celeste's up there." Torius pointed to the tower atop the mansion.

"Looks like Brojanni's still up," Snick said from the driver's seat, nodding up at the lights blazing through the upper windows.

"That can't be helped." It had taken four days to set this up; Torius was not going to let Celeste remain prisoner one night longer.

A spiked wrought iron fence encircled the place, inside which strode four human guards, each bearing a loaded crossbow and the leashes of two snarling hyenas.

"Don't like dogs," the pirate beside Snick complained.

"Shouldn't have to deal with them." Torius nodded to the nearest guard. "Him, however, you'll have to take out, or he'll shoot me and you'll need a new captain."

"And the downside of that would be..." Snick said with a grin.

"Just get us set up, Snick!" Torius wiped his brow and checked his bag of tricks. His hands were shaking again, blast it, and he couldn't stop sweating. He'd finally realized the source of his symptoms: the absence of his navigator, or more precisely, her venom, to which he apparently had become both inured and addicted.

"Here." Snick passed him a small bottle. "Drink it."

"What is it?"

"Pesh brandy; it'll help the shakes."

He wondered how much she knew about the origin of his shakes, then unstoppered the bottle and took a pull, feeling its sweet warmth set his stomach afire. "Thanks."

"Get ready." She glanced at the hourglass that synchronized them with three similar wagons on parallel streets. "It's almost time."

Torius doffed his kaftan, revealing a stout harness over studded leather armor. He took a bottle from his belt and downed the contents; Brojanni was a poison master, so a preemptive cure seemed a good precaution.

The crewmen pulled the canvas off of Snick's baby, already loaded with a special stone-biter bolt. A long, light rope was threaded through the bolt's eye; one end they clipped to the horse's saddle, the other to a heavy ring in the front of Torius's harness. A second line, which was wound around a spring-tensioned drum bolted to the wagon, they clipped to the back of his harness. This was a tensioning line; without it he would be dragged right into the menacing fence.

"You're sure about all this, Snick?" He took a deep, calming breath.

"Trust me, Captain." She gave him another grin, holding up the glass and gripping the ballista's trip cord. "I triple-checked everything. Ready?"

"Hell no!"

"Too bad." Snick pulled the cord. The ballista cracked sharply as it shot the bolt into the night. From adjacent streets, three more bolts shot toward the mansion. Three of the four hit their marks, lodging deep in the stone above the tower's highest window; one glanced off an embrasure and fell. Their assault force had just been reduced by one quarter.

Torius said a short prayer and snapped, "Go!" to the horseman.

The man applied his spurs and the horse bolted back down the street, pulling the line though the bolt's eye and yanking Torius from the wagon. He felt like he was being torn in half; one rope pulled him forward while the tensioning line pulled him back to keep the angle of his ascent above the deadly fence. As he cleared the tines, he saw a guard below raise his crossbow, but a hail of bolts cut him down before he could fire and Torius allowed himself to breathe. Glancing to his left, he saw Grogul and Joss also ascending toward the window.

When his feet were firmly planted against the window's narrow ledge, he unclipped the tensioning line. Grogul and Joss arrived, the former grinning his tusky grin, the latter looking pale but ready.

He had no doubt that Brojanni had some type of ward on his tower windows, but this was where another of his preparations came into play. Torius slipped out the wand he had purchased for this venture—at a cost that made him nauseous when he thought about it—pointed it at the window frame and whispered, "Negate."

Nothing happened.

Three possibilities flashed into Torius' mind: the wand was a fake and he would have to hunt down and kill the merchant he'd purchased it from, the window had no enchantment for the wand to dispel and he had just wasted a charge, or the wand had worked and it was safe. Only one out of the three would get him killed, which wasn't bad odds considering the stupidity of attacking a spellcaster in his own home. He glanced at Grogul and shrugged.

"Bah!" The boatswain kicked in the ornate leaded glass and swung through the opening. Torius followed, and Joss came last.

As they rolled to their feet, he heard the sound he had been dreading; the chanting of a wizard casting magic. He swept his wand in an arc, looking for the source. There were myriad tables, cages, boxes, barrels, shelves and alchemical apparatuses, but no wizard. Then he realized his mistake, and discharged the wand in the direction of the wizard's voice.

Too late.

Brojanni learned a valuable lesson about dealing with pirates. Or perhaps not.

Lightning cracked out of thin air, blasting Grogul against the wall. Torius leapt to the attack, wand in one hand, sword in the other, as Brojanni winked into visibility. Before he could close the gap, the wizard cast a handful of dust before him and began another spell, but Torius was ready this time.

"Negate!"

Nothing happened.

Torius grinned and advanced.

The wizard threw a vial at his assailants' feet, and it burst into a noxious cloud. The acrid vapor stung Torius' eyes and nose, but he felt no other ill effects. Chalk one up for the pre-emptive cure, he thought triumphantly.

Torius and Joss stepped forward, swords poised to strike.

Brojanni backed against the door. "How dare you invade my home, you damned pirate!"

"How dare you steal my navigator, you trite bastard!" Torius shot back. "Tell us where she is and you live."

"I didn't steal your pet naga, Captain. Your own first mate did that for me. I am not going to hand over my property to a common thief, and my guild will have your head if you kill me."

"And my guild will have your head for arranging her kidnapping!" Torius placed the tip of his cutlass against the man's chest. "Now, hand her over."

Brojanni's face abruptly softened from a sneer to a smile.

"Captain, please, we're both businessmen. The naga's venom is all I want. When mixed with refined pesh, it makes an interesting poison. I expect to make a fortune from it. A fortune we could share." He raised his hands in submission. "This is simply a misunderstanding in a delicate matter of commerce. I see no reason why we can't reach a mutually beneficial agreement with no guild involvement."

"Like what?"

"Sell me her venom! If you sign a contract to bring me regular shipments, I'll give you the naga."

Torius opened his mouth to tell the wizard what he could do with his contract, then heard distant shouts from beyond the door.

"Those are my guards, Captain, and I daresay there are more than you can oppose. Decide quickly!"

Torius's mind raced. "Five hundred gold per ounce, six ounces per month, guaranteed."

"Three hundred and ten ounces per month."

"Four hundred and eight per month."

"Done!"

Torius lowered his sword. "Where is she?"

"Just behind that wall, Captain." Brojanni produced a key from his sleeve.

"Joss, see to Grogul. We just made a deal."

"Aye, sir!"

"This way, Captain." Brojanni stepped to the shelf-lined wall. He moved a pot and fit the key into a hole. Silently, the entire wall swung out.

Inside, Celeste lay restrained by an iron collar chained to two bolts in the walls. The room was crowded with other devices and a table laden with vials of pearly white liquid.

She rose on her coils, her dark eyes wide. "My captain!"

"Release her!" Torius's hand began to sweat on his sword hilt.

"Captain, please. The monster is dangerous without the enspelled collar. Let me place a charm on it for our protection."

"Fine. Do it now."

Torius tensed as the wizard cast his spell, then stepped over and touched the iron collar; it glowed briefly and fell away. "Your owner has come for you, Celeste. You can go with him as soon as we sign a simple contract."

"Of course," she said, slithering submissively after them.

Back in the outer room, Brojanni bent over his desk to gather paper and quill. Torius sidled over next to Celeste and aimed his wand.

"Negate!" he whispered

This time, something happened.

Celeste coiled and struck, sinking her fangs into Brojanni's neck. He reeled, and again she bit him, hissing with rage. The wizard fell against the desk, and she sunk her fangs into his chest, flexing her powerful body before releasing him. Brojanni slumped to the floor, gasping for breath, his skin nearly as pale as Celeste's. Once more, she reared back, ready to strike.

"Celeste! Enough!" Torius stepped forward, but she turned and hissed at him.

"This man..." she seethed, "this beast chained me and kept me from seeing the stars! He forced me to trade my venom for a mere glimpse of the sky! I'll have him dead!"

"Wait, Celeste! Please. It's complicated. We can't kill him. It'll start a guild war." He stepped between them and turned to give her a secret wink. "In fact, I'll need to give him the antidote to your venom right away." He turned to Brojanni and handed him a large flask. "Drink this. It'll ease the poison. Quickly!"

The wizard took the flask and drank greedily, then slumped back. His hand dropped to the floor, releasing the flask as his eyes glazed over with forgetfulness.

Celeste hissed angrily. "You...you mean to let him live? After what he did to me?" She lashed her tail. He'd seen her agitated before when she'd been too long from the stars, but never this bad.

"At least he won't remember it." Torius looked down at the man's slack face. "Trust me, if I could kill him, I would. Do you have any idea how much that elixir he just gargled was worth?"

"We gotta go, Captain!" Grogul rumbled. He and Joss were busy barricading the door.

"Grogul! You okay?"

"Bah! Nothin' but a little burn." He brushed charred leather away from the healing scar on his chest. "Joss fixed me up. But we better get before this door gives way."

"We've got to go, Celeste. Now! I'll make it up to you." He pulled out a potion vial and held it while she drank. He heard Joss gasp as she morphed into a beautiful nude woman, but he didn't have time to deal with that right now. He draped a cloak across her shoulders and the four of them dashed for the window.

∗ ∗ ∗

The stars shone like jewels overhead as Stargazer sailed beyond the glow of Katapesh. Torius stepped out onto the deck, his hands behind his back. Celeste was coiled at the rail, gazing up and swaying sinuously with the roll of the ship while the crew tended to their duties around her.

"For you." Torius held out an exquisite sextant wrought in bright silver.

Celeste's smile gleamed as she floated it out of his hands. She peered through the lens and hissed with delight. Leaning close, she nipped his neck; the faint rush of weakness and euphoria was like a breath of sea breeze, and Torius sighed.

"You must have done well with the sale of the Gods' Tears to afford such an instrument," she said.

Torius looked around guiltily to ensure that none of the crew stood within hearing, then whispered, "Actually, after paying the crew and buying that, the money's mostly gone. We've got to find a rich merchant ship if we're to keep in provisions."

"Then I will find one for you," Celeste agreed, turning her face to the night sky. "And the stars will be our guide!"

Coming Next Week: A brand new story featuring Tantaerra from Ed Greenwood's new novel, The Wizard's Mask!

Read more about Torius, Celeste, and the crew of the Stargazer in the new Pathfinder Tales novel Pirate's Honor, available now!

Chris A. Jackson is the author of the Scimitar Seas nautical fantasy series, which has won sequential gold medal awards for fantasy from ForeWord Reviews, as well as Weapon of Flesh, Deathmask, A Soul for Tsing, and the Cornerstones Trilogy. He lives with his wife on a sailboat in the Caribbean. For samples of his work, his blog, and his convention schedule, visit jaxbooks.com.

Illustration by Greg Opalinski

Stargazer

by Chris A. Jackson

Chapter Three: Blood and Information

It was late, and the doors of Gozreh's temple were closed, but it was not so late that a bit of judicious knocking didn't get a response. A young acolyte cracked the door and squinted at Torius dubiously.

"Yes?"

"We need to speak to the high priest immediately!" Torius gestured to the stiff form in Grogul's arms. "My friend..."

"The high priest is eating his supper." The acolyte seemed unmoved by the plea. "Perhaps tomorrow."

"We are faithful to Gozreh!" He produced the small golden leaf on a chain from the neck of his robes. "And we are not without resources." A handful of gold reinforced the plea, and gained them entry.

Like all temples to Gozreh that Torius had seen, this one was open to the sky, its walls of joined driftwood servin...g only to keep out the unfaithful, not the elements. In its center sat the traditional large pool of water, surrounded by native plant life. Katapesh being Katapesh, however, this particular temple was far from the humble hermitages and shrines one might find on a distant coast or otherwise uninhabited island. The head priest wore fine robes, and looked as if it had been some time since he last slept out under the open sky. He sat at a beautiful wooden table next to the reflecting pool, and looked none too pleased at being interrupted.

"It's late, Captain." The aged priest wiped the grease of his curried goat stew from his long beard. He squinted down at Snick's corpse as if it somehow offended him. "And there is no hurry. Perhaps in the morning."

"I've donated enough to your coffers in years past to buy this temple thrice over," Torius seethed, one hand clenching the hilt of his cutlass. "We urgently require information that our friend may have learned just prior to her death. I'm willing to pay whatever you deem fair."

"Oh. Well, information comes easier than treatment of her... um... condition. For a generous donation to the temple, we may be able to accommodate you."

"How generous?" Grogul growled, his flinty eyes narrow.

"And before you answer, consider my longstanding, and potential future support of this temple." Torius reached for his belt pouch.

After some haggling, they came to an agreement, and the priest led them across the garden and over to a stone slab, deeply engraved with the Gozreh's leaf symbol.

"Place her there."

When Grogul complied, the priest produced a matching leaf pendant from his robes and began a careful incantation. The symbol glowed with a deep blue light, and Snick's morbid features suddenly stirred. Sightless eyes blinked, and her mouth twitched, but her color remained the ashen hue of death. Grogul muttered an oath and took a step back.

"Ask your questions," the priest instructed.

"Snick!" He stepped forward. "Snick, I need to know where they took Celeste!"

"Celeste..." The gnome's voice was raspy, undoubtedly the result of being garroted. "They took her... Don't know where."

"I need to know about Caliel. What did he do with Celeste?"

"Caliel!" Her sightless eyes flung wide, pale lips drawn back in a rictus snarl, she hissed, "Traitor! He sold her to a man."

Torius' blood ran cold in his veins. "To who? Who paid him?"

"Don't know... Didn't see his face... Wizard."

"Blast!" Torius clenched his fists and thought furiously. "Do you know where Caliel's gone to?"

"No. South... Told his men Grand Arch at dawn."

"Good! Thank you, Snick." He rested a hand on her cool shoulder. "You rest now."

The spell faded, and Snick's pale features stilled.

"It will be expensive to bring her back, Captain," the priest warned.

"I don't care. I'll pay it." Torius looked up at the heavens and a shiver wracked his body. Could Celeste see the stars she so loved? Would she ever observe the night sky again? He knew what she would become if that was denied her for too long. He turned away without another glance at the priest. "Come on, Grogul. We've got to get back to the ship. We've got an appointment at the Grand Arch at dawn."

∗∗∗

The crewmembers of the Stargazer were with him. Pirates they might be, but loyalty to one another was the key to their success and survival, and avarice was in their blood. Consequently, the opportunities to repay the treason of fellow crewmembers and reap a share of Caliel's payment for the sale of their navigator were serious incentives.

Well before dawn, Torius, Grogul and a dozen pirates were hidden among the simple homes along the road between Twilight Gate and the Grand Arch Bridge. Just as the sun peeked over the sea, seven desert-cloaked riders exited the gate astride fine mounts and headed toward the bridge.

"Horses," Grogul muttered with a note of disdain. "Figured that and brung a little surprise." He delved into a large bag and withdrew a heavy bola.

"Where'd you learn to use a thing like that?" Torius eyed the ungainly device dubiously.

"Wasn't always a pirate, Captain," the bosun replied with a grin.

"Fine. Just don't tip our hand." He watched the riders closely; they wore dust cloths across their faces, but he knew Caliel when he came close enough. When they were in position, he gave a high-pitched whistle and stepped into the street in front of the horses. Half his sailors stepped out beside him, and the rest filled the street behind the riders. Every pirate bore a loaded crossbow.

"That's as far as you go, you mutinous piece of dog meat!" Torius drew his sword and the riders pulled their mounts to a halt.

"Vin! How in the depths of Hell—"

"The shipmate you murdered gave us just enough information to find you, Caliel. Snick isn't here to cut her due out of your traitorous hide, but I'll wager you got enough from selling my navigator to pay a cleric for her return."

"Snick's dead?" Honest surprise registered in the half-elf's eyes. "Nosey gnome. I didn't mean for that to happen, Torius. She killed herself with her own damned curiosity."

"You might sell that to the dung collectors, but not to me, Caliel. I'll make you a deal. If you drop the gold you made from selling my navigator and tell me who you sold her to, I'll let you be on your cowardly way. Otherwise..." He gestured to the bowmen.

"Your navigator is a scaly monster, Vin!" The man hefted a long spear. "And you're the coward! No stomach to be a real pirate! We could have made twice what we got on that last take if you had any stones! A hold full of silks and fifteen new slaves would have paid well, and nobody would have been the wiser!"

"I told you when you came aboard that I don't deal in people," Torius said, his voice low and dangerous as he hefted his silver-hilted cutlass. "And there wasn't time to take anything more. You know that."

"Because you don't have the balls to kill a bunch of bloody merchants!" Caliel hawked and spat. "Did that scaly witch of yours chew off your manhood, Captain Vin? Is that why you're so craven?"

"Tell me who you sold her to, Caliel, or I swear by Gozreh, I'll take your head."

"You mean you'll try!" The riders kicked their mounts into a charge, spears set like lances.

"Fire all!" Torius shouted, and the crossbows cracked.

Three men fell, but Caliel and the others rode on. There was not a faint heart among his crew, but pirates are unaccustomed to facing a cavalry charge. They dove out of the way; only Grogul remained, his tusks bared as he threw his bola. One of the horses went down screaming, its rider pitching forward to land with a sickening crunch.

Torius stood his ground, reaching for a pouch at his hip. He focused on the gleaming tip of Caliel's spear and threw the pouch down hard, right in the horse's path.

It was just a simple firecracker, but the sound spooked the horse, which threw off Caliel's aim enough to save Torius's life. The tip of the spear creased the captain's shoulder, but his cutlass caught the traitorous first mate squarely in the stomach. Caliel fell from the saddle and landed in a bloody heap.

Another horse screamed in agony, and Torius heard Grogul bellow, but his attention was fixed on Caliel. He dashed to where the man lay clutching the slithering mass of his eviscerated abdomen.

He put the tip of his cutlass to his first mate's throat and said, "Who'd you sell her to? Tell me!"

"Or what?" Caliel spat, his lips flecked with blood. "You'll kill me?" He laughed horribly, then coughed, choking on his own blood.

"Or by Gozreh, your soul gets bound and sold to the foulest necromancer I can find." He withdrew an ornate crystal vial from his belt—nothing but an empty perfume bottle, but Caliel didn't know that—and pressed the tip of his cutlass into Caliel's neck. "There are things worse than death, my friend."

"A poison-crafter named Brojanni. Offered me enough for my own ship... The money's on my horse." Caliel grinned through the blood. "You said you'd let me live."

"I lied." Torius allowed the man a moment's realization before he ended his life in one quick slash. It was better than he deserved.

"Captain!"

Torius turned to see Grogul standing over a dead horse and rider. Blood dripped from both his axe and the spear that transfixed his thigh. The boatswain reached down and snapped the spearhead off, then yanked the shaft free. Torius swallowed.

"One got away." The half-orc pointed to the bridge where the last of the traitorous pirates was riding at full gallop.

"I got what I needed, Grogul." He cleaned his sword and sheathed it. "Have the men round up the horses, and bind up that leg. Our traitorous first mate just supplied us with sufficient funds to bring Snick back and heal your hairy carcass up in the bargain."

"Bah! Just a poke with a stick!" the boatswain claimed, barely limping as he shouted orders at the pirate crew.

∗∗∗

Not even death fazes Snick.

"This isn't good, Captain." Snick huddled in a blanket, her face flushed a living hue as she recovered from her brush with death. "Not only is Brojanni a wizard, he's an alchemist specializing in poisons, which explains why he wanted Celeste! And he's alchemist guild. The Pactmasters won't like it if we storm his fancy home."

"I'm guild, too, and he stole my navigator!"

"You're guild?" Grogul asked, taking another swig of his medicinal fish oil whiskey. The smell of it nearly made Torius retch.

"Merchantmen's guild," Torius explained. "Can't sell anything in this city without it."

"That's not going to do you much good, Captain, because technically, he didn't steal Celeste. He bought her, which is perfectly legal." Snick shivered and clutched her blanket closer. "The masks won't like it if you kill him."

"I don't want to kill him, Snick. I just want Celeste back." Torius suppressed a shiver of his own, and began to wonder why he was feeling like he'd just woken up from a two-day binge.

"So we go in quick, take her, and give him a swig of that memory-enema potion," Grogul suggested, taking another deep draught.

Torius swallowed hard and tried to think. Grogul's idea wasn't half bad, but they would have to make sure it happened like that, quick and without repercussions. The last thing he needed was to tangle with the Pactmasters. Katapesh was his home port; if he lost his standing here, he'd be cast adrift.

"Okay, we do like Grogul suggested. Quick in and out, and the good Master Brojanni doesn't even remember that we were there." He shivered again.

"You okay, Captain?" Grogul squinted at him.

"I'm fine." He reached for a bottle of spiced rum that he kept for his own medicinal purposes. "Snick, I think we'll need to bring your babies out of bed for this one, and I'll need to make a trip to the Repository. We'll need gold to do this right."

"How much gold?" Grogul's eyes narrowed in worry.

"All of it, I think." Torius suppressed another shiver. "When you confront a spellcaster, it's best to have a few tricks on hand."

Coming Next Week: The thrilling conclusion of Chris A. Jackson's "Stargazer."

Read more about Torius, Celeste, and the crew of the Stargazer in the new Pathfinder Tales novel Pirate's Honor, available now!

Chris A. Jackson is the author of the Scimitar Seas nautical fantasy series, which has won sequential gold medal awards for fantasy from ForeWord Reviews, as well as Weapon of Flesh, Deathmask, A Soul for Tsing, and the Cornerstones Trilogy. He lives with his wife on a sailboat in the Caribbean. For samples of his work, his blog, and his convention schedule, visit jaxbooks.com.

Illustration by Greg Opalinski

Stargazer

by Chris A. Jackson

Chapter Two: Stealing the Stars

"Don't put us downwind of the slave markets, Caliel." Torius scanned Katapesh's busy docks, looking for ships that he might prefer to avoid. The list had become quite long.

The mate sneered. "Squeamish, Captain?"

"It's the smell, that's all." Torius tended to steer clear of the slave markets for other reasons, too, but his crew need not know all the details of their captain's past.

"Smells like half-orc day at Trillia's Bathhouse!" Snick chimed from beside him, her sea-green hair fluttering in the breeze. The crew chuckled and Grogul growled low in his throat.

"All secure below, Snick?"

"Well, of course, sir! All my babies're off to bed." Snick's ‘babies' were the twelve ballistae that Stargazer bore. When in Katapesh, his home port, he ordered the huge crossbows dismantled and hidden in the smuggling niches crafted into the spaces between the ship's decks. The gnome looked indignant at the suggestion that she might be slacking. "We're nothin' but a merchant ship now."

"Except for that ruddy great reptile in his cabin," a crewman muttered.

"Good." Torius ignored the comment. Celeste's magical talents and her value as a navigator and astrologer far outweighed the risks of having her aboard, and every member of the crew knew it.

He scanned the crew and nodded his approval. Though they still bore weapons, they looked little like pirates. Their dark leathers and bandanas had been replaced by loose vests, colorful pantaloons, and varied desert headdresses. As captain, Torius wore a dazzling white kaftan that was subtly enchanted to keep him cool in the blistering heat. Only Grogul still looked menacing, stripped to the waist and showing his impressive array of scars. He'd traded his axe for a pair of long kukris tucked crosswise under his sash at the small of his back.

"Might need a trip to Jexler and Young's, though," the gnome continued. "Those swimmer bolts just don't seem to be quite—"

"First things first, Snick." Torius ruffled her hair, smiling when she grimaced and slapped his hand away. "And the first thing is to conclude our business."

When the ship was docked and all secure, Torius turned to his first mate. "Caliel, deal with the fees and bribes to the dockmaster and see to provisions and repairs. Grogul, you're with me."

The pirate captain crossed the gangplank and headed uptown as if he hadn't a care, for all the world a merchant and his bodyguard out for a stroll. The burlap sack over Grogul's shoulder was nondescript enough to be holding laundry, but inside their prize lay nestled in a padded leather pouch, a fortune for the selling. Torius had long ago learned that the most effective means of stealth is often to appear as if you have nothing to hide at all.

∗∗∗

"May Abadar smile on your every endeavor, Master Alchemist." Torius bowed low and backed out of the shop's opulent back room, smiling through the bitter taste of both the dark tea he'd been forced to drink as a matter of custom and the poor deal he'd just struck.

"That took too long," Grogul said with a scowl.

Torius handed over a small bag heavy with gems and nodded to the door, but once outside he grumbled, "And they call me a pirate!"

"What happened?"

"Oh, just haggling," he said, then lowered his voice. "We've been paid, Grogul, but not what we were promised. I should have expected it, really, but there's nothing we can do."

"You said we had a contract."

"We did, but that thief caught me broadside. If I threatened to take our business elsewhere, we'd soon have Benrahi Ekhan himself on our tails." He shook his head ruefully, then cocked a wry grin and clapped the burly half-orc on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Grogul. We still made out well, just not as well as I'd wanted." He glanced at the angle of the shadows. "Come on; we've got to hurry to make it to the Immaculate Repository before dusk."

"Bankers..." Grogul muttered, matching his captain's long stride. "Now there's a band of pirates!"

Grogul is a bosun who gets things done.

They were met with aplomb at the Repository, and the certificates of appraisal that accompanied the gems were quickly verified, their value deposited in his account with a scribbled number on a leger. Torius withdrew a sum in gold for the crew's shares and all the expenses associated with maintaining Stargazer, and they headed back to the ship. Dusk in Katapesh reminded him of twilight on a tropical reef—the time of day when predators began to hunt—but two well-armed men cognizant of their surroundings had little to fear from common thugs. They arrived at the docks just as the sun's glow faded behind the city's gilded domes, but the welcome they received was more chilling even than the coming desert night.

"Captain!" A crewman named Joss ran up as they crossed the gangplank. "You're free! Where's Mister Caliel?"

"What do you mean, ‘free'? Why wouldn't I be?" The chill slithered down Torius' spine.

"But the slavers, sir! We got word a gang of Duenas took you, the filthy hyenas, and Mister Caliel—"

"Where is Caliel, Joss?" He scanned the worried faces and shivered.

"Mister Caliel took half a dozen men and went to rescue you. This feller said he knew where you was, but that it'd take some doin' to get you back. He, uh..." The man balked, biting his lower lip. "They took yer navigator with 'em."

"Celeste?" The chill clutched his heart like the hand of a lich. Torius gripped Joss's vest, jerking him off his feet. "Where?"

"We don't know, sir! That feller, he just spoke to Mister Caliel. The mate said they'd need yer navigator's help to get you back. She took that potion that makes her human and left with 'em, all cloaked and secret-like. Then Snick followed 'em. Told me somethin' weren't right and she'd find out."

"Damn!" Torius released the man and began to pace Stargazer's deck, his mind awhirl. "And nobody recognized this man? Did Caliel call him by name?"

"Oh, aye! Called him Vemmy. I heard him."

"Vemmy..." The name meant nothing to Torius. He glanced at Grogul, who knew every sneak and informant on the docks, but the boatswain shook his head.

"Never heard of him, but I know someone who might."

"Let's go." Torius turned back to Joss. "Keep the ship secure. Nobody, and I mean nobody, comes aboard. If Caliel or Snick come back, they stay put. Understand?"

"Aye, sir!"

∗∗∗

Nowhere in Katapesh is the night darker than beneath the Night Ramp, with its seedy cluster of tents where informants and black marketers ply their trade. Grogul led Torius past clusters of men sitting around small charcoal fires cooking meat of dubious origin on metal skewers to a canvas-shrouded stall near the Obsidian Wall. There, an old woman sat smoking a pesh pipe, her knobby, misshapen feet propped up on a stool.

Grogul didn't bother with formalities or introductions. "Need to find someone, Hound."

"Nice to smell you, too, Grogul. Who's your friend?" She sniffed, then blinked, the lamplight glinting on the haze of her unseeing eyes. "Don't think I know his scent."

"I'm Captain Vin of the Stargazer." Torius stepped forward. "We're looking for a man named Vemmy."

"And what are you willing to pay for this, Captain Vin?" The old woman puffed on her pipe, drawing the acrid smoke deep into her lungs and holding it there before exhaling. She smiled, thin lips pulling back over elongated canines. Her name, it seemed, was apropos.

"Gold or steel," Torius said, a hand on his sword hilt. "Gold if you tell us the truth. Steel if you lie."

"I never lie, Captain. There's no profit in it." She took another puff from her pipe. "Twenty scarabs."

"Ten," he countered.

"Seventeen."

"Fifteen." He was in no mood to haggle, but if he didn't, he risked being marked as moneyed prey.

"Sixteen, then, if you insist."

"Done." He counted out the coins, but kept them in his palm. "Where do we find Vemmy?"

"Street of the Seven Suns, north of The Block. He works for whoever pays him, and isn't particular."

He handed over the money. "Thank you."

"You already have, Captain." She laughed and jingled the money in her hand before slipping it into a pocket.

"Come on." Torius grabbed Grogul's arm and turned him north.

A quarter of an hour and dozens of twisting streets later, they entered the Street of the Seven Suns. Most of the stalls in the bazaar were closed, but the alehouses and pesh pits were open for business. A few questions and some judiciously applied silver pointed them toward a narrow alley and a dark second story flat.

"Round the back," Torius instructed his boatswain in a whisper. "If he bolts..."

Grogul nodded and vanished around the corner, stealthier than his bulk would suggest possible. Torius gave him a moment to get situated, then climbed the rickety stair, the boards creaking under his weight. There was a click as the door opened, and the glint of starlight on metal. Torius dodged as the crossbow fired, and felt the bolt tug at the sleeve of his robe. He drew his sword and dashed up the stairs before the man could reload.

The door splintered under his onslaught, but he only caught a glimpse of the man's boots vanishing out of a small window. He heard a crash, then a grunt and a scream. He leaned over the sill.

"Grogul?"

"Got him, sir." The half-orc was bent over a prone form.

"Dead?"

"Not yet."

Torius ran back down the stairs and around the corner. Grogul bore a cut along his cheekbone, and the tip of his pointed ear was missing, but that was nothing compared with the man he was pulling to his feet. One of the bosun's kukris transfixed the man's shoulder from back to front, six inches of bloody steel sticking out of his filthy robes.

"You okay, Grogul?"

"Bah! Just a scratch."

"You must be Vemmy." Torius peered into the man's pockmarked face. "Not a good night for you."

The man spat an epithet, then screamed again as Grogul whacked the hilt of the kukri. Torius winced.

"Now Vemmy, let me be clear. You tell us where Caliel took my navigator, or you're tomorrow's dinner special at Chargut."

"Don't know where," the man said through clenched teeth. "He just paid me to bring the message and watch his back. Then that blasted gnome came along."

"Snick? Where is she?"

"Dead."

Torius felt the blood drain from his face, and he whacked the kukri himself. Vemmy's scream was gratifying.

"Show us where. Now!"

Grogul arranged Vemmy's cloak to hide the knife and frogmarched the man through the dark streets. In minutes they reached an alley and Vemmy pointed.

"In there. I stashed the corpse behind the bins."

Torius's gorge rose in his throat. The building was an abattoir, and the rats had massed for their nightly feast. He kicked the rats away, and found Snick's body reasonably unchewed; apparently the butcher's offal ranked higher than gnome on the rat culinary scale. He pulled her into the faint starlight, and saw the mark of a garrote around her throat. She was dead, her limbs stiffened and her face fixed in a ghastly expression.

"Grogul, pick her up. We need to—"

Vemmy gasped in shock as the half-orc retrieved his kukri. Grogul hadn't simply pulled the blade out, but twisted it and slashed down through bone and sinew. Blood quickly darkened the man's robes, and he crumpled to the refuse-strewn ground. Grogul wiped the blade on Vemmy's cloak and sheathed it.

"You were sayin', Captain?"

"I was saying, we need to get her to Gozreh's temple."

"Why?" He picked up the gnome's corpse and tucked it under his arm.

"Because, Grogul," Torius said, leading the way into the night, "the dead can talk."

Coming Next Week: A chat with a corpse in Chapter Three of Chris A. Jackson's "Stargazer."

Read more about Torius, Celeste, and the crew of the Stargazer in the new Pathfinder Tales novel Pirate's Honor, available now!

Chris A. Jackson is the author of the Scimitar Seas nautical fantasy series, which has won sequential gold medal awards for fantasy from ForeWord Reviews, as well as Weapon of Flesh, Deathmask, A Soul for Tsing, and the Cornerstones Trilogy. He lives with his wife on a sailboat in the Caribbean. For samples of his work, his blog, and his convention schedule, visit jaxbooks.com.

Illustration by Greg Opalinski

Stargazer

by Chris A. Jackson

Chapter One: Venomous Friends

Black sails tore out of the moonless night, all but invisible as the corsair Stargazer swooped down on her prey. Even as the merchant galleon's crew recognized the danger, three ballistae cracked in perfect unison, and their steel heads bit into the planks of the ship's hull.

"Haul!" bellowed a voice, and Stargazer's capstan spun, hauling in the lines affixed to the ballistae bolts, pulling the two ships together.

The two hulls met with a crack, and thirty seasoned pirates leapt aboard the merchant ship in a wave of curses and flashing steel. One stout sailor swung a boathook, cracking a burly pirate across the face. The pirate responded with an anatomically impossible epithet and a sweeping blow of his heavy axe that clove the sailor's skull like an overripe melon. The captain and crew of the Golden Griffin dropped their weapons and backed against the windward rail, pleading for mercy, hands raised.

"Bosun Grogul!" The voice cut through the night like a knife, staying the burly pirate's hand as he raised his axe above the merchant captain's head. "Stand down! Secure their weapons and start your search!"

"Aye, Captain!" The half-orc pirate spat blood onto the deck. He glanced over his shoulder at his captain standing on Stargazer's rail, and the rage in his eyes dimmed. "Search party with me! You others, secure this rabble!"

Captain Torius Vin stepped onto the deck of the merchant galleon with the preternatural agility of a born seaman, one hand on the silver hilt of the cutlass at his hip. His confident swagger was that of a man walking across a street instead of a lurching deck as he stepped over the corpse of the dead sailor and confronted the captain of the Golden Griffin.

"Where is it, Captain Wayland?" He stroked his carefully groomed goatee, dark eyes narrowed.

"Where's what?" The merchant captain's voice sounded harsh with fear. "You're nothing but a damned pirate!"

Torius grinned—he expected fear from his conquests, but not defiance—and drew his cutlass. The flat of the blade slapped the captain's cheek, the edge coming to rest beneath the man's ear. "A pirate I am, Captain, and I may even be damned one day. But not today, and not by the likes of you! If you hand over the coffer you're delivering to Benrahi Ekhan of Azir, I'll spare the lives of you and your crew. If you lie to me again, I'll feed you to the adaro a piece at a time—your right ear first."

"Bugger yourself, pirate!" the captain spat. "You'll kill us all anyway. You vermin have no honor!"

Torius' wrist stiffened, and the razor edge of his cutlass drew a bead of blood from the captain's ear. "Have it your way," he said, but a soft voice from behind him stayed his hand.

"My captain!" There was a rustle of scales against wood. "I can help, if you'll allow me."

"Celeste!" Torius lowered his sword and glanced over his shoulder to see... nothing. "Is there time?"

"There's always time, Captain Vin. It's what we do with it that matters." The voice was as hauntingly beautiful as the night sky. "In this moment of it, I can find what you seek."

"Then by all means proceed, my dear." Torius stepped back.

Undulating coils of starlight flowed over the conjoined rails of the two ships as a huge serpent with the head of a woman materialized from invisibility. The white waves of her hair glowed in the starlight as she slithered to Torius's side, then smiled, her fangs glistening with venom. Torius stifled a chuckle at the gasps of horror from the Golden Griffin's captain and crew; where they saw a monster, he saw magnificence.

"Captain Wayland," she hissed as she bent close to the man's sweaty face. Torius heard the whisper of her quietly murmured spell. "If not to save your own life, then for the lives of your crew: tell me where you have hidden the coffer destined for Benrahi Ekhan."

The man paled nearly to the naga's alabaster hue, swallowed, then answered. "In a secret compartment under the chart table in my quarters. This is the key." He fumbled a heavy brass key from a pocket, and it floated out of his grasp and into Torius's hand.

"Mister Caliel!" Torius tossed the key to his first mate. "Get that coffer, double quick! Time is of the essence!"

Celeste is an exceptional woman—in many senses.

"Aye, sir!" The tall man, a half-elf by the gentle point of his ears, gathered two men and hurried aft.

"Celeste," Torius said more quietly, "best go below now. Thank you for your help."

"Who am I to argue with the stars, my captain?" Her lips curved in a knowing smile. "I await you in your cabin." She slithered away with astonishing alacrity, gone by the time Torius turned back to the captain of the Golden Griffin.

"Now, Captain, there are two possible outcomes to this night's events, and only one ends with you still breathing." He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a large, flat bottle. "Outcome one is that you and your crew each take a single draught from this bottle, and forget the last half-hour of your lives. Outcome two is that you all die, right now."

"That's a choice?" the captain scoffed, his defiance returning.

"Life or death? Yes, I do believe that is a choice, Captain." A door slammed, and Torius turned to see Caliel with a small metal coffer, while his two companions hefted much larger bundles of finery. He grinned. Pirates will be pirates, he thought, then turned back to the captain. "Choose now—live or die. Quickly! If you delay, your choices get cut in half." He tapped the side of the man's neck with his cutlass.

The captain cursed, but took the bottle, removed the cork and tilted it into his mouth, then passed it to the next man in line. Torius watched carefully, making sure each sailor took a mouthful of the precious potion and swallowed. It had cost him plenty, but he gauged it worth the lives of fifteen men, given that he'd already taken from them a prize fifty times the potion's value. When the last man in line drank, he took the bottle back and smiled; the captain's eyes were already glassy with forgetfulness.

"Bosun Grogul! Anyone else aboard?"

"No, sir! Searched from stem to stern."

"Good! We're leaving. Gather your men and get aboard Stargazer."

"Aye, Captain!" The boatswain and his men, burdened with more armfuls of carefully selected spoils, returned to the corsair.

"Farewell, Captain." Torius gave a fluid salute that ended with his cutlass snapping into the scabbard at his hip. He leapt to the rail of his ship and doffed his hat in a sweeping bow as his men cast off and the ships parted. "May we do business again soon!"

As Stargazer heeled away, black sails vanishing into the cloak of night, Torius strode through his grinning crew of pirates and shouted down the open main hatchway. "All secure below, Snick?"

"Secure as a half-orc's virginity, Captain!" a high-pitched feminine voice called back up.

The joke elicited a round of giddy laughter from the crew, and a growl from the bosun, which was probably what the gnome was aiming for. Others, however, seemed in a less humorous mood.

"Besmara's boots, Captain, that was close," Caliel grumbled. "You put a lot of faith in that wizard's concoction, expecting it to keep our identity a secret."

"Aye, we could'a took her like a cheap doxy, Captain," Grogul said as he wiped his gore-streaked axe with a rag. "Dead men don't talk, and it would'a saved the cost of that potion and gained us a hold full of fine Qadiran silk."

The bosun's boldness loosened the tongues of some of the other crew, and Torius heard a rush of dark muttering. He shook his head dismissively.

"The potion was crafted by a priest, actually, Caliel, and I tested it personally. Besides, this way we're free to plunder the Golden Griffin at a later date. Set course for Katapesh, and don't spare the canvas. I want twenty miles between us and the Golden Griffin before sunrise!" Torius pointed to the coffer. "Grogul, bring that to my cabin. Now. It's worth more than a dozen holds full of the finest silks in Golarion."

"Aye, sir!" The boatswain scooped up the coffer and followed.

In Torius's dimly lit cabin, they were greeted by the disconcerting sight of several navigational instruments, including an elaborate astrolabe, floating about the sinuous coils of Stargazer's navigator. She lay beneath the open skylight, but turned from her celestial observations as they entered, the tip of her tail twitching in delight.

"My Captain, I see that we're underway. I'll take my instruments up to the quarterdeck presently to get a proper fix and plot our course. Ah, Grogul, you bear the coffer of Gods' Tears." She cocked her head in concern. "And you're injured."

"Bah! Just a bloody lip, Miss Celeste." The half-orc put the box down and nodded. "I'll leave you to yer snake charmin', Captain." He ducked out of the cabin with a tusky grin.

"Pass the word for Snick to come by when she's through mothering the ballistae, Grogul. I'll need her to open this thing."

"Aye, sir." The door clicked closed.

"You take a great risk in this endeavor, Torius." Celeste turned to the astrolabe, rotating the discs more accurately with her magic than most could with two hands. "Such a valuable prize will not go unmissed."

"Not such a great risk, Celeste. The Sword of Man himself would thank me for keeping such a relic out of Rahadoum. The Gods' Tears will vanish in the markets of Katapesh, and there'll be no trail leading back to us." He unbuckled his sword and hung it on a peg near his bunk. "Which was another reason for the potion. Better to obliterate their memories than kill the crew of the Golden Griffin. Contrary to what Grogul thinks, dead men do occasionally talk."

He stepped to where Celeste lay coiled, her torso swaying easily with the roll of the ship as she gazed at a particularly bright star through her telescope. A stylus on the chart table scratched down a series of numbers. Beneath the charts lay several scrolls, mostly zodiacs of various cultures and lengthy scholars' notes of celestial observations. He stood next to her and stared up at the star-filled sky; this far from the lights of any city, they were so clear he felt as if he could reach out and touch them.

"It's a beautiful night." He brushed a hand through her silvery hair.

"Isn't it?" The tip of her tail shuddered as she turned to him. "And speaking of potions."

A thin drawer beneath the chart table opened and a small vial floated out. The stopper twisted free and she quaffed the contents in a single gulp. Her shape shifted with the potion's magic, her tail morphing into two long legs, two pale arms sprouting from supple shoulders. In the time it took him to draw a deep breath, she stood before him as a tall, willowy human woman with skin the luster of pearl and eyes of midnight, her face and hair unchanged. He reached for a cloak and draped it over her shoulders, though she was unabashed by her lack of raiment. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, unaccustomed as she was to having digits.

"Celeste, Snick will be coming by to open the coffer any minute."

"And the potion will only last a few minutes also." With a glance from her, the door's bolt clicked closed. "Time enough."

"Oh, hell," he murmured as her hands explored beneath his shirt.

"Besides," she breathed, nuzzling his neck, "it's been far too long since I've had arms to hold you."

He felt the prick of her fangs, then the familiar rush of weakness from her venom and the odd euphoria that accompanied it. He knew the weakness would fade quickly; he'd become accustomed to Celeste's venom. In fact, he'd become quite fond of it... and her.

"And legs," he reminded her. "Don't forget your legs..."

Neither of them noticed the soft click at the door, or the shadow that passed below the lintel.

Coming Next Week: Pirate problems in Chapter Two of Chris A. Jackson's "Stargazer."

Read more about Torius, Celeste, and the crew of the Stargazer in the new Pathfinder Tales novel Pirate's Honor, available now!

Chris A. Jackson is the author of the Scimitar Seas nautical fantasy series, which has won sequential gold medal awards for fantasy from ForeWord Reviews, as well as Weapon of Flesh, Deathmask, A Soul for Tsing, and the Cornerstones Trilogy. He lives with his wife on a sailboat in the Caribbean. For samples of his work, his blog, and his convention schedule, visit jaxbooks.com.

Illustration by Eric Belisle.

Pirate's Honor Sample Chapter

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

In Pirate's Honor, notorious pirate captain Torius Vin makes a living raiding wealthy merchant ships with his crew of loyal buccaneers. Few things matter more to Captain Torius than ill-gotten gold—but one of those is Celeste, his beautiful lunar naga navigator. When a crafty courtesan offers the pirate crew a chance at the heist of a lifetime, it's time for both man and naga to hoist the black flag and lead the Stargazer's crew to fame and fortune. But will stealing the legendary Star of Thumen chart the corsairs a course to untold riches—or send them all to a watery grave?

Chapter One: Stars Never Lie

Scales rustled across the hardwood deck of the corsair Stargazer as she plied the moonlit waters of the Obari Ocean. The crew of the ship had heard the sound many times before, especially on nights when the sky hung overhead like a black silk tapestry strewn with diamonds. This was her time, and they knew better than to bother her when her attention was on the heavens.

Celeste squinted through her sextant at the bright planet Triaxus, also known as the Wanderer, which had just entered the constellation of the Sea Wraith. That boded well, and she manipulated the stylus to scratch down the planet's angle to the horizon. Glancing at the neat array of hour- and minute-glasses—calibrated that very evening at the precise moment of sunset—she noted the exact time. She took another sighting, this one of the rising moon, and the stylus scratched down another pair of numbers. Lowering the sextant, Celeste performed the calculations to determine the ship's latitude and longitude. With a flick of magic so familiar that she barely had to think of the spell, she floated her plotting tools out of their leather case, rolled out the chart of the Jalmeray coast, and meticulously plotted their position.

"Well?" a gravelly voice asked as the stylus scratched an "X" on the chart and wrote down the time.

Celeste's tail gave an involuntary flick of annoyance at the interruption, but she stifled her natural response to rise on her coils and hiss. Most of the crew members were more cautious about interrupting the lunar naga during her reading of the stars, but Stargazer's half-orc bosun was an incautious fellow. Besides, he was just doing his job. They were sailing in dangerous waters, and he needed to know their position.

"You may turn to zero-eight-zero degrees, Grogul, or as close to that heading as the wind will allow." Celeste put away her instruments and folded the case closed against the salt air. "We're beyond Jalmeray's southern reefs, and can begin our approach of Kaina Katakka's south coast."

"Good!" Grogul turned away without a word of thanks, as usual, and started barking orders to the crew.

Stargazer turned to windward, her sails trimmed smartly, and began the slow beat to the northeast. When they settled on their new heading, Celeste noted the set of the stars against the foremast and yards; if they started to drift off course, she would know.

Though she had two hours until she needed to take another celestial fix on their position, Celeste retrieved her sextant once again and recorded the elevations of several more planets. She then traded the sextant for a finely wrought telescope and observed the heavenly bodies more closely. She noted every detail—every angle, rotation, and position of every moon—and carefully scratched them into her logbook. These observations had nothing to do with celestial navigation, but with the science of astrology: the intricate song of the heavens and its interaction with the events and beings of this world.

Tonight, she was concerned with the stars' attitude regarding one particular being: Torius Vin, captain of the Stargazer.

With the harmonies of the planets and constellations singing in her mind, and all the numerical data she needed to interpret them, she consulted her astrological texts. This was the hard part; the stars never lied, but interpretation of their message was often fraught with uncertainty. She knew Torius's astrological signature—the position of every celestial body of significance at the moment of his birth—and she had just observed the current state of the cosmos. How these two interacted was the puzzle she had to solve.

Nothing of significance had changed since her previous reading: The planet Liavara, the Dreamer, still traversed the constellation of the Lantern Bearer, Torius's birth sign. The Wanderer would soon cross the constellation of the Key, the symbol of Abadar, the god of wealth. The planet Castrovel was ascending into the Lantern Bearer, denoting desire, lust, love, or life. The reading seemed straightforward; Torius's dreams, his desire for wealth, would be realized.

Celeste crooked a smile and bent to the chart. If the prophecy still held, then so did their course. Her readings of the other planets—Eox, the Dead, traversing the Wagon, beneath the constellation of the Throne—had pointed to the long-dead indigenous peoples of the island nation of Jalmeray. Those who had not perished or been enslaved when the great Vudrani maharajah Khiben-Sald introduced his foreign gods and elemental creatures to the island had fled to Kaina Katakka. There they had lived for a time, until the governance of Jalmeray fell into the hands of the Arclords. Wanting no potentially rebellious natives so near, the Arclords had exterminated the entire population, leaving Kaina Katakka a devastated ruin.

That was their destination.

Torius knows that a captain is only as good as his crew.

Destiny resides in the stars, she thought, closing her texts and stowing them. She gazed up into the endless tapestry of the cosmos and sighed with pleasure. Out here, far from land, the veil of the heavens shone so clearly that it seemed close enough to touch. Here under the stars—aboard a pirate ship, of all places—she had found her own dreams' desire: a home. These people trusted her, relied upon her expertise and appreciated her talent in reading the secrets of the firmament. She belonged. She was loved.

Celeste swayed with the easy motion of the ship, reveling in a peaceful night under the stars, her favorite place in the world. Her mind drifted, and she contemplated her other favorite place. A smile touched her pale lips, and her forked tongue flicked out to scent the night air. There it was, that heady fragrance of leather, spice, and human, as signature as his stellar harmonic.

Torius Vin ...

The ship's bell chimed, interrupting her thoughts. Eight notes in two-stroke pairs, which meant the watch change. As if her thoughts had conjured him from the air, she heard his approach, his soft leather boots brushing the deck with a faint whisk not unlike that of her own scales. She did not turn, but waited, knowing how he would greet her, longing for that familiar touch.

"Celeste," he said, his voice singing the song of the heavens in her mind as his hand ran through her alabaster hair.

"My captain." She turned and smiled at him, her coils shuddering in an involuntary shiver of delight.

"Are we on course?" He glanced at the chart on the deck.

She scanned the stars and nodded. "There's a slight northerly set to the current, but we're not far off the plot line. I'll take another fix to confirm my calculations, but we should reach Kaina Katakka's coast before dawn. We will reach the cove by late morning."

"Good." His fingers slipped from her hair and he left her to make his rounds of Stargazer's quarterdeck, checking the hundreds of details that kept the ship running smoothly. She neither knew nor cared much about these details. Her milieu was above, while his was here—his ship, his crew, canvas and wood, steel and rope, lives dependent on his every decision. She might chart their destiny, but he sailed it. He returned to her and asked quietly, "So, you're sure about this?"

She smiled at him again. In front of his crew, he was always decisive and confident; only with her did he let down his guard and expose his uncertainties. "The stars never lie, my captain."

"I know, but the truth they tell is often only clear in hindsight."

"Torius," she said, brushing against his shoulder, "the prophecy is clear; your dreams and desires for wealth will be realized here."

"Good, because I've been dreaming of gold a lot lately. A pirate's got to eat, after all. After our last little problem, money's been hard to come by." He turned away and began to pace the quarterdeck, his hands clenched firmly behind his back. She watched, admiring the preternatural grace that made his movements so fluid, almost serpentine, even on the rolling deck of a ship.

The problem he mentioned had cost them virtually their entire stake, including the profits of their last successful job. She slithered to his side and whispered, "Don't worry."

He laughed quietly, running his hand slowly through her hair again. "Telling the captain of a ship not to worry is like telling the desert not to be dry or the ocean not to be wet, Celeste. Until we get a solid stake again, enough to pay the crew and provision the ship properly, I'm going to worry."

"Very well, my captain," she said, leaning in to nuzzle his neck. That was another reason she loved him: he might be a pirate, but he truly cared about his people. He cared about her. She turned to her navigational instruments once again and floated the sextant up to her eye. "You worry, and I will consult the stars."

∗ ∗ ∗

Torius squinted into the glare as the island's barren coast coalesced from the thinning morning mists. As always, Celeste's navigation was flawless. She had already retired to his cabin for the day, so he would have to compliment her later. He just hoped her astrological prophecy was as accurate.

"This cove got a name, Captain?" Grogul asked, as the brigantine eased slowly nearer under reefed topsails alone.

Torius glanced up at the half-orc; he was taller by a wide hand and probably outweighed the captain by half, but Torius knew that he was more than the brute he appeared to be. Grogul was a fine bosun, a skilled sailor, and a good tactician, even if he did disdain the more esoteric points of seamanship. More than anything, Grogul was solid, dependable, and unfailingly loyal. The captain wouldn't trade him for a half-dozen fancy, rapier-wielding swashbucklers.

"Not on the chart." Torius scanned the rocky beach with his spyglass. There were no visible signs that the place had ever been inhabited. "Used to be a village or town or something here. Seems way back when Nex gave Jalmeray to the Vudrani, the indigenous population hightailed it and came here. Then the Arclords blasted the entire island to cinders." He wasn't about to tell Grogul the rumors that the island was haunted.

"And they brought their treasures with 'em?" Grogul squinted skeptically at Torius as he ran a thumbnail down the gleaming edge of his axe. "Just waitin' in a big pile for us to pick up?"

"That's what we're here to find out. More likely to find a smuggler's stash or some such."

"As long as it spends, I'm not picky, sir." Grogul knew as well as anyone the dire straits they were in when it came to ready cash.

Torius pointed to the northeast corner of the sheltered cove. "Drop a stern kedge and bring her in close there. The tide's on the rise, so drop the bow anchor when there's a fathom under her keel, and keep her hove short. Oh, and have Snick get her babies ready, just in case we have to dissuade any pursuit."

"Aye, Captain!" Grogul grinned. "You want me to tell her she's in command while we're ashore, since we're short a first mate?"

"Sure. It'll make her day." Torius smiled, knowing his gnome engineer would revel in her authority, short-lived though it might be, driving the crew crazy with all manner of inane orders. Snick was an invaluable member of the crew; she kept the ship functioning and her babies—the twelve beautifully crafted ballistae nestled below the deck—working perfectly. But she wasn't much of a sailor. "Launch the boats when we're anchored. I'll be in my cabin."

"Aye, sir."

Despite the daylight outside, Torius's cabin was as dark as midnight, with black curtains drawn tight over the transom windows and a shade pulled over the skylight. Celeste lay coiled on her collection of thick pillows and rugs, only the waves of her white hair visible in the gloom. He moved silently to his bunk and lit a lamp, keeping the flame low. His sword, a beautiful silver-hilted cutlass, hung from a peg. He lifted it down and clipped it to his belt, then pulled a brace of knives from a drawer. He clipped the long fighting dagger with a sword-catching crosspiece to the other side of his belt, and slid the heavy throwing knife into his boot. He retrieved a couple of his standard surprises, trinkets and potions that could distract an enemy or save a life if they ran into trouble, and tucked them away. One last adjustment of his belt and a glance in the mirror—just to make sure that his mustache and goatee were trimmed and combed properly and his hat had just the right rakish tilt—and he was ready.

"Be careful, my captain," Celeste said as he reached for the door's brass handle.

"Don't worry, my love." He gave her an easy smile. "This is the fun part."

Her tail twitched, but she settled back down without another word. He left her there in the dark and joined Grogul on deck. The longboats were bobbing beside the ship, the shore party armed and ready. He regarded them professionally and grinned his approval—all proven pirates, men and women he'd trust with his life, and who trusted him with theirs.

"Don't worry about the ship while you're gone, Captain!" a sprightly voice called from the quarterdeck. He looked up to see Snick standing with her slim legs splayed wide, her tiny hands on her narrow hips. She wore a brilliant red tricorne hat that clashed horribly with her sea-green hair, and a short cutlass at her belt. She snapped him an exaggerated salute. "I'll keep an eye on things for you!"

"Just keep your babies manned, Snick," he ordered, "and if anything that's not us tries to come aboard my ship, kill it."

"Consider said beastie killed, Captain!"

"Good!" He turned to Grogul. "Let's go."

"Man the boats, you scrags!" The crew leapt to comply, swarming down the boarding nets into the boats.

They rowed ashore in silence, stowing their oars when the boats' keels grated onto the rocky beach. Several sailors splashed into the surf to pull the boats higher. Torius, exerting his captain's prerogative, waited until he could vault ashore off the prow without getting his boots wet. The last thing he wanted was to squish when he walked if they were going to do much exploring. Grogul assigned four pirates with heavy crossbows to watch the boats, and joined his captain as the dozen others worked their way to higher ground.

"You sure about this, Captain?" He kept his voice low, his squinted eyes scanning the rocky, vine-strewn cliffs. "Don't look like much."

"As sure as I've ever been about one of Celeste's prophecies." Torius gave the half-orc a grin.

"And how sure is that?" Grogul's dubious gaze turned to him; he was never easily put off by Torius's assurances.

"We'll find something here, Grogul." He clapped the half-orc's meaty shoulder. "As for my dreams' desire for wealth ..." He looked around skeptically at the devastated landscape. "I don't think the Arclords left enough to satisfy all of my—"

A strange, musical trill split the sultry air, drawing everyone's attention. Swords rasped free of scabbards, and Torius found his hand on the hilt of his cutlass.

"Whassat?" asked one of the pirates, pointing to the foliage-covered cliff face. "It's comin' from up there!"

"This way!" another said, pointing to an overgrown path.

A number of the pirates started forward, eager to find the source of the call, but Torius called them back with a harsh, "Hold fast there! Nobody goes blundering off!"

Three of them stopped in their tracks at the command, but several others just kept climbing up the brush-strewn hillside, not even looking back at their captain.

That's not good, Torius thought. They're trained better than that.

"Grogul! Come on!" He drew his cutlass and hurried after them. "The rest of you, form up and follow. Quickly now!"

Luckily, Torius and Grogul were less hindered by the overgrowth than the pirates breaking trail. The captain's group scrambled up, dislodging dry vines, loose rocks, and a cascade of leaves, reaching the top just as the errant pirates hacked away a thick veil of foliage covering a gaping cave mouth. Grogul's huge hand closed on a shoulder and he jerked one woman back before she could venture inside. Torius and the others did likewise, pulling their friends away. All the while, the strange trilling call continued from within. One man twisted out of his mate's grasp and dashed into the darkness.

"Epok! No!" Torius shouted, too late.

The trilling call fell silent, and a sharp crack and a loud thump echoed from within. The pirates who had struggled to enter the cave stopped and looked at one another, their eyes wide with bewilderment. Torius shivered with an unknown fear. Something was wrong; none of his crew were so green that they would go charging into a dark cave like that.

"Don't like this, Captain." Grogul moved to the side of the cave entrance. Torius did likewise and motioned his pirates to split into two squads, one with Grogul and one with himself. He could see now that the arching mouth of the cavern had been fashioned with stonecutting tools, though it was so ancient and cracked that it had begun to look as rugged as a natural cave.

"Neither do I." Torius peered into the darkness. "Who's got the torches?"

Indistinct murmuring was the only answer he got. Grogul looked abashed—or as abashed as the half-orc ever looked, which wasn't much.

"Didn't know we'd be spelunking, Captain."

"Well, we'll probably have enough light from the cave mouth." Torius knew it was no good to chastise the bosun now, but later ...He had another means to light their way if it got too dark, but torches were good for more than light. "Can you see anything in there, Grogul?"

"Nope. Too much light out here." The half-orc shaded his eyes and shook his head. "Maybe once we're inside.

"Epok?" Torius called. He listened for a reply, for a hint that his man was still alive, for anything. He heard a faint scratch that might have been a foot on stone, then nothing. "This stinks like ..." Then he realized that he could detect something, but not with his ears. The distinct scent of rotten meat wafted out from within.

Torius snapped his fingers to get Grogul's attention and, with simple hand signals, outlined a cautious strategy; Grogul would proceed inside with his troop, their backs against one wall, while Torius did the same down the other. Both would keep a sharp eye out for traps or an ambush. Once inside, they would reassess the situation.

They moved slowly, checking every step as they were swallowed up by the cave's darkness. Grogul was the first to call a halt, his sharp eyes penetrating the gloom far easier than the humans'.

"Ssst! Captain!" he called in a stage whisper. "I think we found Epok."

"Gozreh's guts!" Torius swore as his eyes became accustomed to the gloom. Epok stood before them, one hand still clutching his cutlass, while the other gripped one of the wrist-thick bamboo spikes that had impaled him. A wide frame studded with sharpened stakes had swung down from above, propelled by a heavy stone counterweight. It spanned the entire tunnel, and would have killed or maimed several of his crew had they ventured inside with the unlucky Epok.

"There," Torius said, pointing to the thin trip cord that had released the deadly trap.

"Aye, and he wasn't the first." Grogul gestured with his axe at the skeletal remnants of several other unfortunate trespassers. There were at least half a dozen of them scattered along the sides of the corridor beyond the trap, still wearing the tatters of their long-decayed clothing and clutching rusted weapons.

"Well, we're not going to join the club. Come on, and everyone watch your step!" Torius advanced, cutlass thrust before him.

They edged past the trap, flattening themselves against the rough-hewn wall to pass. Grogul had to nudge the thing to fit his thick torso through the gap, causing Epok's gape-mouthed corpse to sag on the spikes. Torius swallowed hard. Epok had been a solid pirate. Passing the frame, he noticed the condition of the device; though not green, the bamboo was far from old. The island wasn't as deserted as he'd expected.

When the last of his squad had passed, they formed up again, advancing slowly. Enough light trickled in from the cave mouth to show that the tunnel widened ahead. Then their rear guard gave a startled gasp and cried out.

"Captain! Epok! He's not dead!"

"What?" Torius turned, his free hand reaching for the curative potion he'd brought from the ship. Torius knew death when he saw it, and Epok had looked as dead as dead gets. But true to the pirate's claim, Epok was moving, struggling to free himself of the murderous spikes thrust through his chest. Judri, the tall Mwangi woman who had called out, moved to help her comrade. "Wait!"

Epok's hand lashed out to grab her tunic, while his other lifted his cutlass to strike. Judri gaped in shock as the sword thrust through the bamboo frame, ill-aimed but accurate enough to pierce her shoulder. Her scream echoed around the cavern as Epok drew his weapon back for another strike.

Torius dashed back, sword raised, but Grogul beat him there. The bosun's heavy axe smashed through Epok's arm, the bamboo frame, and into the animated corpse's torso. Judri stumbled back, but the zombie—Torius could no longer think of it as Epok—wasn't through yet. It thrust clumsily at Grogul, the cutlass scoring a line on the half-orc's arm. Grogul growled a curse, snatched its wrist and bent the arm over the frame until the elbow joint popped and bent backward. He wrenched his axe free and severed the other arm with a chop. The zombie still fought to free itself, but literally disarmed, its struggles were futile.

Torius went to Judri. The wound was deep, and right in the shoulder joint. It was hardly mortal, but would ruin her sword arm for good if it wasn't tended properly. He flipped the stopper from the bottle and pressed it to her lips. "Drink!"

Judri complied and the wound in her shoulder closed immediately. Then her eyes widened and she pointed behind Torius. "Captain!"

"We got trouble, Captain," Grogul growled, reaching down to hoist the injured woman to her feet.

Not three feet away, the bony remnants of the trap's previous victims twitched and clawed their way to their feet, their rusted swords and axes clutched in fleshless fingers.

"Defensive formation! Now!" Torius flicked up Judri's fallen cutlass with the toe of his boot, caught it and put the hilt in her hand. "Everyone! And watch your backs!"

The veteran pirates formed a double row in close formation, half facing the scrabbling skeletons, the other half guarding against the darkness of the corridor behind them. This way, Torius figured, they could defeat the skeletons and then face whatever menace might await them farther down the corridor without worrying about a threat at their backs. At least, that was the theory.

At the first clash of blades, however, theory and practice diverged as the moaning wail of new assailants echoed in the dark behind them.

"Damn but this is a pretty trap!" Torius said between clenched teeth. "I'm going to have a few terse words for Celeste when we get back to the ship."

"If we get back, you mean." Grogul deflected a skeleton's axe, then smashed his attacker to shards with a powerful overhead chop. He glanced toward the dim corridor behind them, wrinkled his nose, and spat. "Zombies. Lots of 'em. Gods, I hate zombies."

"Gozreh's guts!" Torius parried a blade and gave a deft twist. The fine cutlass snicked through the skeleton's forearm like a piece of kindling, but the monster raked him with its free hand, leaving bloody trails down his forearm. The crewman to his left smashed a boarding axe down through its skull, and it toppled. At least they were fragile. He spared a glance over his shoulder and saw the crowd of zombies shambling out of the darkness. Some were armed and some weren't, but their eyes gleamed with the maniacal, hungry look shared by all undead. "This is not my dream's desire!"

"Unless you've been havin' some pretty weird dreams," Grogul agreed, hacking down another skeleton.

"Not even in my nightmares would I desire this!" Torius parried and slashed low, severing his opponent's spine just below the empty rib cage. The skeleton went down, but still managed to clutch at his legs. "Forward! Take down the skeletons before we have to fight on both sides!"

The pirates focused their attacks, smashing with a vengeance at their bony adversaries in an effort to beat them down before the shambling zombies arrived. Already Torius could hear the slow scuff of rotting feet against the stone floor and smell the rank stench of decaying flesh.

Finally, the last skeleton fell under a flurry of blades and the pirates turned to face their new foes. Aside from a few scratches and one shallow cut, they were all hale and ready. Torius and Grogul pushed through to stand in the front of their double line.

"Now we'll see what's what!" Grogul said with a tusky grin, swinging his axe from a center position where he could do the most damage.

"Watch our flanks!" Torius ordered. "And aim for their joints. Take them down, then finish them on the ground!"

He tensed, listening to the muttered curses of his crew. They knew there was no retreat. The trap grating was as effective as a portcullis; if they tried to squeeze past while being mauled by the zombies, people would die, and if Epok's sudden animation was any clue, each fallen pirate meant a new foe. Their only hope was to find whatever had animated the dead and destroy it.

"Ready!" he yelled, brandishing his cutlass.

"Aye, Captain!" his crew cried out, and Torius felt his heart lift.

"All right! On my word!" The undead shambled relentlessly forward. "Now!"

The pirates lunged as one, their blades cleaving the zombies with a predictably sickening result. Putrid flesh spattered the floor and walls of the corridor, and the stone underfoot quickly became slick with the foul suppuration that seeped from their wounds. Several of the undead went down, but others swung their rusted weapons or grappled and clawed at the pirates.

Torius slashed, aiming for their joints, trying to sever the limbs that reached for him. He had just downed one zombie and turned to the next when everything suddenly went black, as if someone had rolled a huge boulder across the cavern's mouth.

"Back!" Torius commanded, disengaging from his opponent and fighting to maintain his orientation. "Everyone step back!"

One step, then two, and he could see again. A wall of darkness so thick Torius doubted he could swing his blade through it loomed before them, but the zombies emerged unimpeded from the black, sloughing forward, their clawlike hands outstretched. Then, to Torius's horror, the darkness advanced with them.

"Gotta take out whatever's doin' that!" Grogul suggested, hefting his axe. "If they pin us against that grating, we're meat!"

"We'll have to run it." Torius looked at his crew, gauging their morale. By their dubious faces, he knew they couldn't do it, not with any hope of getting through. But someone had to. "You and me, Grogul! The rest of you, form a defensive line. If we don't win through, get back to the ship."

The pirates shouted, "Aye, sir!" in unison; they'd stand as long as they could.

"Now, Grogul!"

"Aye, Captain!"

They charged into the darkness.

Want more? Check out Pirate's Blade in paperback or ePub format!

Coming Next Week: A brand new, standalone prequel story featuring the piratical adventures of Torius, Celeste, and the rest of the Stargazer's crew!

Chris A. Jackson is the author of the Scimitar Seas nautical fantasy series, which has won sequential gold medal awards for fantasy from ForeWord Reviews, as well as Weapon of Flesh, Deathmask, A Soul for Tsing, and the Cornerstones Trilogy. He lives with his wife on a sailboat in the Caribbean. For samples of his work, his blog, and his convention schedule, visit jaxbooks.com.

Illustration by Eric Belisle.