Aiden heard a jingling of reins. He tugged Nova to a stop. The sound of steady hoof beats continued, so he guided her around. She snapped at the air with her teeth. There was no one behind Aiden. He turned back around and nudged Nova. She continued forward. He breathed in the damp night air. As the dip in the ground below them vanished, he saw a man on a white horse riding up the hill. He was thick with broad shoulders. He wore a wide-brimmed hat. In between his yellow teeth he had a cigar that wasn't producing any smoke. He nodded at Aiden and pulled his horse to a stop.

"Evening, son," the man said. Aiden nodded at him but kept his hands glued to the reins. The man looked him over. "My name is Silas Noble, boy."

Aiden readjusted his feet in the stirrups. "Good evening. You can call me Payne."

"Haven't seen you around these parts," Silas Noble said. He gestured towards Aydesreve with the reins still firmly held in his palms.

Aiden nodded. "I work a lot." He prodded Nova with his feet and she began to walk slowly.

Silas Noble kept his eyes on the road ahead. "I feel a storm coming. I feel it in my bones." Then, he reached into his mouth and pulled out the cigar and polished it against his shirt.

Aiden pulled Nova to a halt. "Pardon. Is that a bullet, sir?" he asked.

"Sure is." He brought it to his eyes to look at it. "Caught it in between my teeth during a gun fight. Damn near killed me." He placed it between his teeth again and closed his thin lips around them.

Aiden prompted Nova to walk again. "All respect from me, but that looks like a fresh bullet."

"Are you looking for a new job?"

Aiden laughed. "I'm looking for a new life," he said.

Silas Noble huffed a grin and passed Aiden a pamphlet. Then he gave his horse two great kicks. He took off in a strong gallop towards Aydesreve. Aiden continued on his way. He needed some time to be quiet. He didn't get very much of that any more, it seemed. Everyone had a different opinion about Wagner and his running of the mine. Wagner was fine, so long as he was paying Aiden. That was all he expected out of a boss.

He heard hoof beats again. He stopped. They must have been from Nova or just spun from Aiden's imagination. He continued but kept an ear out. When he got to a nice spot, he read the paper.

Sailing, weapons, carpentry, nautical, and/or navigational experience needed in the hunt for the Captain Zelley, escaped convict and dangerous pirate. The vessel will be leaving in three weeks off of Aydesreve. Contact bounty hunter Silas R. Noble for more details about the job.

Aiden chuckled and crumbled up the paper. He pushed it into his pocket for future disposal. He felt the piece of pyrite against his fingertips as he pulled his hand back out. After dismounting, he tied Nova up to a mesquite tree. She chewed lazily at a clump of grass before dropping her head and falling asleep. Aiden scratched the back of her mane. The compass he wore was chaffing the back of his neck. He took it off and put it into his pocket. That was it--that was the last reasonable thing he could fit in his pocket without the seam snapping and exposing him.

There was a big flat rock a few paces away. He crawled on top of it and stretched out. With bent legs, and arms folded behind his head, he examined the stars. He heard a whinny. Nova was asleep. Aiden sat up.

"You ought to be careful," a voice said, "You might get singed." Aiden relaxed his shoulders. It was Amelia Rose. You couldn't mistake that lilt for anything. She was right. He was laying on a landmark of sorts in Aydesreve. They liked to call it the Devil's Frying Pan because rumor had it that one afternoon, Freddy Witlocke-Geller fell asleep on it and charred himself to a crisp. His mother had to scrub him down with wool just to get the burn off.

When Aiden sat up and took his palms off of the rock, they were black with soot. He rubbed them off on his pants, but he merely streaked the black powder all over his legs. Bloody bizarre that rock was.

At first, he couldn't see Amelia Rose. The night was too dim. She stepped a little closer and her skirts caught a trail of wind but looked blurry in the darkness. She was like a dabbing of watercolors. The edges of her yellow skirt dissolved into the night that held her. There was something in the way her boots crunched against the sand--it was blue, like the color and the feeling. Her voice was a muted pink. It was somber and joyful all at the same time. He couldn't decide. She said something else to him, but he only remembered being moved by art for the first time in his life.

"You shouldn't be out at night," he said. He dusted his pants off and scooched back on the rock, "Your father will worry."

"My father doesn't know where I am. I'm not doing anything wrong, am I?" she asked.

"Well—"

"Tell me. What great offense is it to go outside?" She tied her palomino to the mesquite tree. She turned around and ran her fingers across Nova's face. After running her hand down Nova's back, Amelia Rose readjusted the saddle. After a moment, she spun around and opened her saddlebag. She lifted a parcel and a big cloth out. Aiden had nothing to say. He wasn't doing anything wrong, and nobody would be upset if he returned to the ship at three in the morning. He guessed it was wrong for Amelia Rose because people said it was wrong. That didn't make an entire lot of sense to him. He shook his head. She spread out the cloth and sat down with Aiden on the Devil's Frying Pan. He looked at the parcel she was holding in her hands. She set it down beside her and unwrapped it, using the cloth as a seat cover. She passed the contents to him.

"Thank you for what you said at the mine," Aiden said. Amelia Rose flicked her eyes up to him and they filled with warmth. He picked up the book. It was leather bound and the material wore off against his fingers. He opened it—a bunch of old, inaccurate maps. "An atlas?"

"Mm." She nodded. "It was my mother's. Her name was Isabella Soledad. Isn't that beautiful?" Aiden gave the book back to her. She swiped a piece of hair behind her ear and turned the page until she reached a map. "I've never heard your accent before. Where are you from?" She held the atlas out to him. He took it back. He placed his fingers to the worn, creased page and ran them across it.

He wanted to laugh at her idea that he had an accent, but there was lump in his throat and he could hardly speak, let alone laugh. "Uh, Hӧfnar í Grí. It's this island," he said. "In Tranan they call it Greyport." She stared at him until he continued. "There's uh snow. All the time. Icebergs and evergreen trees."

"Evergreen?" she asked with her hand curled over her mouth in awe.

"They stay green all the time."

"That's remarkable."

He paused. "I guess." His eyes lit up. "The sky does this thing in the summertime at night. It just lights up—greens and blues and purples."

"You're lying to me," she gasped.

Aiden's mouth tilted. "I thought you might've read about it." He scratched his head. "Uh, yeah it just, I thought that was just the way the sky looked everywhere."

Her mouth rounded and her eyes widened. "I want to see that sky one day."

"I want to show you it." he cringed at his own words. "I mean, I want you to see it."

She smiled and took the book back. "Do you have family there?"

"I have three brothers. I don't remember my father." He brought his knee close to him and crossed his arms over it.

"Why's that?"

He frowned. That involved opening a whole entire can of beans, didn't it? He didn't want to talk about the tattoo or his memory for that matter. "Reasons."

She nodded. "My mother died in labor," she said. " I've painted this glorious picture of her and one day it's going to get shattered." she laughed and wiped a tear from her eyes with her index finger.

"Things always get broken if you try to keep them whole."

She studied him for a long moment. He drew back, streaking his fingers in soot. She was a constellation shining from her eyes to the bracelets on her wrists, to the moon kissing her hair all over. Maybe she was unusual, but there was nothing usual about Aiden. She looked back at the book. "I've always wished I could see all these wonderful places, and those people, and these sea monsters." She pointed at a picture of a giant sea serpent off the coast.

Aiden dusted off his hands again. "I don't really think there are sea monsters."

She looked more than a little disappointed but appeared to be doing her best at squelching it. "That isn't the point, Aiden." She opened the parcel more. "Can you tell me what this is?"

Aiden wasn't sure how what she was saying was related, but he leaned in anyway and looked at the object. "That's a sextant."

"Do you know how to use it?" She looked nervous to him, like she was afraid he might say no.

Their fingers brushed when he took it. Heat sidled up his spine. He pushed it back down. He held the instrument up to the moon and adjusted the index arm. "What do you want with it?"

"I'm just curious."

Still looking through the sextant, his lips wrinkled into a grin that he was trying his hardest to drown. "So you just look at an object in the sky, like the moon. Then you move the arm and bring it down to the horizon." He pulled the sextant away from him and looked at it. With a languid finger, he swung the index shades about. Something wasn't normal. He held the sextant closer. "These shades are modified."

"That's good?"

"It's unnecessary."

"Oh," she said. "It was my mother's. I don't know why she had it. My father doesn't like to—won't talk about her."

Aiden closed the book and placed the sextant on top of it. "Why are you telling me all of this?" It was a lot to take in, certainly after he'd murdered her fiancé. She could at least show some decorum and be troubled.

"I know there is more to you than this." She reached for the book and wrapped it up tight in the fabric. "I won't forget what happened. Don't think that I don't suffer for it." She dusted off her skirt and stood up. "But you haven't the answer yet. And I don't either. Maybe we were supposed to meet."

"I don't know a thing about fate, miss." he said. She turned away and walked toward her horse. She tucked her atlas into the saddlebag and then looked around. She looked back at the horse with knotted eyebrows. No doubt, she was realizing that she would have one hell of a time getting on the horse without a mounting block. Nevertheless, she untied her horse and walked him back over to the Devil's Frying Pan.

"Do you need help up?" He stood up, covered in all kinds of soot. As she trudged through the sand, her foot kicked something coppery into the air. She held tightly to the reins and crouched down to pick it up. He walked over to her. She revealed his compass in her hands and let it swing from the chain. It must have slipped out of his overstuffed pocked. She opened the door as the needle righted itself. With a shuddering breath, Aiden watched as she ran her fingers across the glass. "Is this yours?" she asked.

"Yes." Aiden reached out to touch it, but she slipped it out of his hand and held it up to the light. There was a lull in the conversation as she admired it. "I want to see the world as much as you do," he admitted.

Her hand closed around the compass. She smiled lightly. "Then we should go." She looked simple and demure, but the whites of her eyes were opalescent like mother of pearl.

"You shouldn't say things like that."

Amelia Rose's eyes were red-rimmed. She nodded and ran her thumb across the chain.

"Would you like that? It's yours," he offered.

She smiled, but there were no creases to her eyes. "Goodbye, Aiden. I should go home." She stood up on her toes and leaned into him. He bowed his head. With trembling hands, she slipped the compass around his neck. Her fingers grazed his shoulder, but she didn't linger for long. When she walked away from him, Aiden felt colder.

"Wait. Let me help you up," he said.

She smiled softly before placing her palms on his shoulders. He flushed and pin pricks ran across his body. Only after she nodded did he put his trembling hands around her waist. Again, he felt a satisfying rush.

"It was nice to see you." Her voice was in a hush. "But I'd be careful if I were you."

"Why's that?" His eyes were focused on her mouth though. All of his energy was put into hoping she'd kiss him. Just once. Just right now.

"Because I don't know who I want to be tomorrow or in a week or in a year. And I might want you right now, but this won't last."

"I think you're wrong."

"No, Aiden," she said. She leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek. He closed his eyes, his hands pressing more into her. "Now let me go home."

He opened his eyes and sighed before he lifted her feet off the ground. Her fingers dug into Aiden's shoulder. He placed her sidesaddle on the back of her horse. She reached for the pommel to steady herself.

After a moment, she picked up the reins. Red blush blossomed on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. She gave Aiden this look as if she wished she could stay longer. He ached for her too. But before he was reduced to begging, she nudged her horse with her heel, wrapped her arms around his neck and rode off. Aiden held the compass in his hands until she disappeared. Then he turned it over and saw the worn engraving of his father's name on the back.

David Connor Payne

When Aiden got back to Nova, he untied her from the mesquite tree and set his foot in the stirrup. As he was mounting, he realized that something was protruding from the saddlebag. He swung his leg back over and jumped to the ground. There was a white box in the bag. He reached for it. It was tied closed with a blue ribbon. On a little tag it said his name. He pulled at the ribbon, but stopped and pushed it back into the saddlebag. Amelia Rose must have pushed it into his bag when she was looking at Nova. He didn't want to know what she had sent him. He didn't even want whatever it was. He wouldn't let her stop him from leaving Aydesreve. And it was hard enough to hear that she was on a fast track to breaking his heart, but that little kiss, still burning a hole in his cheek was making him think her to be a liar. However, it wasn't written in the stars. He'd be just as stupid to open the box.

When Aiden returned to The Princess of Aydesreve he placed the gift in his bag, but it didn't fit. Every time he saw it, it was a nagging. He wanted to open it. He just knew that he shouldn't.