Author's Note
Please be aware that some of the content in this book is adult material  and may be sensitive to some readers. Enjoy, comment, vote!

When morning broke, Evie was surprised to find that Enigma and Nebula were already up and saddling their horses. The little camp was lively as well, The Black Brothers shuffling from tent to tent to retrieve their belongings. Over the fire-- which seemed much smaller by daylight, a savory aroma wafted from a collection of pans. A short man with stubby features oversaw the morning's meal, and offered tins to the young men who lined up to eat.

Evie stood in the opening of their tent, watching her captain grumble to the elf, who listened with her hands perched on her hips. He's probably complainin about me, she thought. The girl rolled her eyes and pulled on her trousers, wading out into the clearing as she laced just under her navel. The grass felt wet under her toes, and she stopped to massage the ground with her feet. No one could ever stop long enough in the Ciscoz Prairie Wilds to do such a thing and admire the foliage; some type of creature would be lurking to either eat you or suck out your soul. And the deck boards were all splinters and stubbed toes.

Sunlight trickled down under the canopy, and things looked at peace for a moment. The Brothers talked quietly amongst themselves, laughing or yawning or stealing bits of each other's food. They were much less intimidating by day, but perhaps it was because they were weak and hungover. Only the few who had stayed sober managed to practice their archery or swordplay, or feed the mounts.

She scanned the scene, unknowingly searching for the sellsword leader until she laid eyes on him. He was leaning back on the same log they were utilizing the night before, his feet propped up on a sack. His tattooed arm was tucked behind his head, and in his other hand was a book, its pages spread open like two gull wings in flight. As if he felt her watching, his eyes popped up from the pages, to her, and then back to his book, all the while a smile creeping up his cheeks.

Evie tried not to smile back, but a sheepish grin spread over her lips. She wiped it off her face just as quickly. She pulled her tricorn down over her eyes and started toward Enigma, who shoved a pistol into his saddlebag on the rear of his horse with a string of curses.

"Morning," Evie chimed, feigning civility.

"Good morning Lady Knox," Nebula said with a wink. The elf tapped the satyr on the shoulder, though he had deliberately been ignoring the exchange.

He turned, bowed his head to the girl, and went back to rifling through his belongings. Evie fought the urge to pull on the stubby ponytail at the base of his neck. She waltzed over to her shared horse, treading lightly around the smelly beast. She examined the saddle and stirrups, remembering the sore feeling she had after their ride. There must be a more comfortable saddle around here meant for two riders.

Evie recalled a ffable that Kelpie had told her once of the 'Mammoth Riders', who were a clan of ogres from Dratsac that fashioned saddles meant for two or even six of their own, rotund kind. And they rode massive hairy mammals whose backs stretched for yards. If the stories were true, they might be able to find such a saddle for Nebula and herself, to make the ride less gruesome. Ethan might know of where to find one, or maybe even how to make one. Though she knew it might anger Enigma-- and all the more reason to do it-- Evie strolled over to where Ethan lounged.

She stood over him with her thumbs hooking her pantline. She had meant what she said the night before, about him being an off kind of mercenary with his artistic tastes and hobbies. First, the piano, then the flute, and now a book-- a thick book at that. His lips were moving slightly to what he read, and he never looked up at her.

"What are you readin?" she asked, her voice laden with judgement.

"Good morning, little girl. Did you break your fast?" he retorted, flipping a page.

Evie scoffed. "You saw me come out of my tent just a few moments ago.You know I haven't eaten anything yet."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought mom and dad over there would've spoonfed you a little something to keep you from being fussy in the morning," he said. His arm came down from behind him and he scratched the stubble on his chin.

What a prick, she thought, her heart racing. He thinks me a child. She reached down and snatched the book from his grasp and turned the pages to meet her eyes. She realized his massiveness as he stood abruptly and tried to grab the tome from her hands. She turned her back to him. They had not stood beside each other since their first meeting, and even then, they kept their distance. If they stood pressed together, her ear would only reach his chest. They tugged back and forth on the pages, but Evie prevailed and held the publication against her.

"I asked what you were reading..." she said, peeking down. A muscular arm wrapped around her and tried to chomp down on the book, but Evie ducked under his grasp and side stepped away.

"You've had your fun, kid. Now give it back," he said, serious.

Her eyes scanned over a page filled with jumbled symbols and locked on a name-- her own. But the book had been written in the finest script and was hundreds of pages long. She snapped it shut and spun around, slamming it into Ethan's abdomen.

"What the hell is this?" she demanded, wanting to be rid of the thing as if it carried the plague.

Ethan scratched the back of his head and opened the book again, scanning the words. "I told you to give it back," he said with a shrug.

"Why is my name in there?" she asked. Evie had learned-- or at least attempted to learn-- to read from Nebula at a young age. Her vocabulary wasn't very vast, and she didn't read often enough to say she was good at it, and sometimes the words or letters she saw were jumbled. She did, however, always remember the structure of her name.

"Don't go getting all excited," she said, resting a hand on her shoulder. He popped the manuscript open and held it out in front of her, leaning in close. "It's magic," he whispered, staring deep into a blank page.

Evie shrugged him off, taking a step back. Magic? What kind of fool does he take me for? She felt the urge to kick him in the shin or break his nose.

"I've put up with your jokes long enough. Stop talking to me like I'm a child," she said, a little louder than warrented. A few of The Black Brothers were looking their way curiously as they chewed on their charred rabbit.

Ethan sighed and grabbed her arm, tugging her roughly against him. "Would you be quiet?" he pleaded, annoyed. "It is magic. Sit down and I'll show you."

She considered it for a moment. Don't do it. You can't trust him. You can't trust anyone. Her eyes held the book, and she wished she hadn't given it back so easily. It may have been his journal, and he was writing awful things about her, she was sure. She wish she knew.

"I'm not sitting with you," she said finally.

Ethan stared at her long, something swimming behind his dark eyes-- it made Evie stir uncomfortably, and she almost gave in to hearing him out. But, instead, she stood her ground and re-hooked her thumbs in her breeches. The silence continued too long for her liking, and had made her dumb and deaf to Nebula calling to her from behind.

A firm tap on the shoulder brought Evie from her coma, and she looked back to find Nebula curling her index finger to her. Damn it, I meant to ask about the saddle, she thought, swinging her gaze back to Ethan.

But he was already several feet away from her now, his long stride and pace matching the anger she felt within her. What's he so mad about? He's the one who was caught writing things about me in his journal.

The rest of the morning was chaos as the camp quickly shoveled their food down and collected their belongings. They were all well versed in combat as well as survival, from what Evie gathered. And they were all fond of song as well, since any chance they could get, they struck up a shanty. Most of their songs were funny, though Evie dared not laugh. They sang about each other and their bad looks, poor 'woman wrangling', and lack of hygiene. Ethan never sang though. He quietly attended his tent and weapons and loaded his bit up onto his mount without so much as a word.

After the young pirate finished dressing, Evie and Nebula draped their blankets from the nights over the steed's rear, hoping it would ease the saddle sores for their next ride. Enigma didn't speak either, and readied himself to ride without ever glancing at Evie-- he was miles away.

When they were all mounted and packed, Ethan headed their party, and Enigma rode beside him. Evie and Nebula formed a point behind them, in between the leaders and the rest of The Black Brothers.

"There's a settlement of ogres not far off. A few days journey. They may have some information on your lady. Nobles don't pass through Dratsac without the help of locals," Ethan told them, snapping the reigns of his palfrey.

"Are they territorial?" Enigma asked, glancing back at his comrades. Evie strained to listen to them over the chatter behind her.

Ethan nodded. "Very. They're among the last of the descendants of the original Dratsaci. They like to stay within their walls."

"I have an ogre on my crew of the old blood. He was not royalty, but he said his house was the equivalent of noble birth to humans," the satyr replied, shifting proudly in his saddle.

"You have an eclectic crew," Ethan trailed, peeking over his shoulder at Evie.

She ducked behind Nebula and rested her cheek on the elf's back, foolishly hiding from the sellsword. The quiet rustle of the leaves was the only thing to calm her nerves as she thought about the magic book Ethan held in his possession. Don't be an idiot, she scolded.

For the next four hours, she bounced on the back of the horse in a less-than-elegant way, clinging to Nebula for dear life. Their horse would whinny and rear every other half hour, in an effort to buck one of them off. And the men behind them would laugh. Evie tried incessantly to hold her tongue, but she would graze the shaft of Lazarus to remind the Brothers she was listening.

One man, with a long, braided gray beard, started up a tune and plucked a cork from a wineskin he had hanging by his belt. The others joined in as well, and soon Evie couldn't hear her own thoughts let alone the calming breeze. She stared at the dirt, leaning against Nebula and let her wind wander.

"A bonny lass once stole my heart,
And buried it in two.
One half she threw into a grave,
The other in the loo!

From then I was a mean old man,
Who ran all women through.
But Pretty Peter caught my fancy,
And it was he I slipped into!"

"You're a sick man, Val," one Brother shouted, taking a drink from his own flask. The men hooted loudly and carried on about the obscene song, throwing anything they could pull out of their trousers at the giezer. One of them, who seemed to be identified as the song's Peter, grumbled and spat.

A faint whistle hissed by Evie, and then a thud woke her from her trance. The entire company quieted and came to a halt. Evie turned her body to look back at The Brothers, who all exchanged wary brows. Slowly, the singer--Val-- slid from his mount and landed on the forest floor, a two foot long arrow protruding from his chest.

"Ambush!"

Another thud was heard and followed by the hollow, curdled screech of the horse beneath Evie and Nebula. The horse reared, but they were unprepared for the beast to completely collapse. Evie hit the ground before Nebula, and caught the elf's elbow in her chest. Evie's head bounced against the flat of Lazarus's blade, sending a ringing through her ears. The muscular legs of the horse buckled and the huge torso came crashing down on them, squirming and squealing.

Evie yelped like an injured dog when the weight hit them. Nebula was moaning also, using her strength to try and push the bleeding animal off them. Around them arrows were flying and whizzling through the air, and The Black Brothers were dismounting and drawing their weapons.

The sloshing of a man gutted just out of their view made Evie search frantically for foes. Their horse was convulsing, its neigh bubbling with the spools of blood that spurted from its neck where the arrow had hit. The pair tried to push the horse again, but its dead weight kept them trapped. Evie felt her legs growing numb, and her toes felt like they might explode in her boots.

"Somebody get this thing off--" but she was cut off by a spatter of blood across her brow. A Black Brother fell to his knees and coughed. Three arrows were lodged into his torso in a vertical line, and his throat was split and flopped like two pieces of ham. The attackers were savage, that much was clear.

Evie panicked and smacked her face in an effort to get the blood off, but instead it smeared down her cheek and left a rusty scent in her hair. Nebula was reaching over Evie's shoulder to try and unlatch Lazarus from her back, but her strength left her and she wound up cursing on the flat of her back, slamming her fist into the dirt.

A lightness relieved them, though, and the horse was barrelled off by two men who were fighting each other-- one human and the other ogre. Evie and the elf crawled out from underneath it, their bottom halves drenched in warm horse blood.

An ogre charged them, but Evie flicked open her holster strap and pulled out her pistol fast enough to unload a few shots into the man. Two bullets struck him in the chest, and the next two in the forehead. He pummeled to the ground and a vibration rolled the dust under him. Nebula wobbled to her feet, pulling her bow off her back. She aimed at an ogre who was quarreling with a sellsword, but she grunted when she couldn't get a clear shot.

The blonde steadied herself to her feet, a sharpness lancing through her thigh. "Ah," she moaned, her weight buckling. Her knees wiggled and she fell, but Nebula's hands were there to catch her under the arms to ease her down.

Enigma was helping Rickshaw with a pair of ogres who had overpowered him, and they each thrashed their blades about wildly. Ethan was taking on three of his own, yelling at the creatures any chance he could between blows. He didn't seem to be trying to strike them, only deflect their blows and to defend himself. Evie raised her gun and squinted, the crosshairs coming to rest on one of the ogre's ears.

But before she could shoot, a horn sounded not far off, and the band of ogres ceased their attack. The Black Brothers, who were tiring quickly from the tirade, were not so quick to put down their weapons. But when Ethan called them to quits, they listened obediently.

From the treeline emerged a group of fancifully dressed ogres. The biggest one was draped in fine jewels and gold chains that hung from his pierced nose and connected to his ears. There were others, who were almost as lavishly decorated, with togas of gold-lined fabrics that hardly covered any of their robust figures. It was then that Evie noticed their attackers wore similar garb, but were draped in less spectacular colors and jewels, and a few with too-small breast plates or bracers. But they all had piercings of shiny bronze or silver and wore headdresses. Their weapons were plated in expensive metals and garnets-- maces, swords, hammers, and guns alike.

"MEt'at," Ethan announced, stepping forward through his men. He was breathing heavily and his forehead glistened. 'Your grace, I was just speaking of your hospitality."

"That's King Met'at to you," the ogre at the front of the pack grumbled. "Boy, we've told you time and time again to stay off these lands. We don't care what good you've done Dratsac. These are sacred forests"

Ethan bowed at his waist and held his hand over his heart. "We wouldn't cross your lands if it weren't neccessary, King," he replied mockingly.

Evie tried to massage the life back into her legs as she watched the exchange. Everyone was afraid to make the wrong move out of fear for another attack. The Black Brothers held their own in battle, but these ogres looked like they could slaughter twice the amount of humans they already had if they were given another thirty seconds.

The sellsword leader glanced at Evie, and he winced, probably at the sight of her. She could feel the blood crusting on her face, and around her thigh felt like tiny needles were jabbing her tendons.

"We have traveling companions," the man said, gesturing to Nebula and Evie. Durward stepped forward, sheathing his blood soaked sword.

"Sir," Enigma greeted, also bowing. "My name is Captain Durward Enigma." He tipped his head in respect. "I'm sorry we've caused you trouble. But The Black Brothers were hired to help us find a missing person in these parts."

"Hrmp. Missing person you say?" the king inquired. He rubbed his chin, wet with slobber, and whispered to the fat ogre woman standing beside him. "Does this person fetch a plentiful bounty?" he asked, tapping his yellow lips.

"No," Enigma replied in a clipped tone. The king and his companions mumbled amongst themselves and gave the satyr suspicious looks. Ethan laid a careful hand on Enigma's shoulder.

"King Met'at, she is a friend to these people. If you let us pass without any more conflict, we will bring you tribute on our way back. We will be rich men by that time," he laughed, nudging Enigma's ribs.

"Gah! Rich men, you say? This horse man is dumb enough to pay you for your services? Gah! Ha ha, you are a fool to trust Ethan Black and his Brothers, horsey." The king and his subjects laughed wildly, holding their bellied.

"He'd actually part goat, not horse," Ethan quipped. An arrow struck the ground by his feet but he barely flinched. "Just let us through and we promise not to come back this way."

Evie tried to push herself to her feet in protest, but her ankle gave way and she slumped onto her backside. The thought of having to deal with such pain on horseback made her angry enough to want to start an attack again. But her eyes lingered to the dead palfrey they had been riding and she felt some grief for the creature. I miss Cuinn, she thought somberly. She had made the decision to leave him behind while they were on land in case something should happen to them. That way, if she perished, along with Enigma and Nebula, he'd still have a home aboard The Siren's Song.

"Go, git!" Met'at said finally. "Take your men and leave off. You will have my mercy and kindness just this once, boy. But next time I see any of you or the New Wave coming through our trees again, we'll tie you up in the desert and leave you for the Sand Gators. Tell those fools down at Minnie's the same!"

The ogres sank back into the trees, but not without snatching valuables off of their dead first. Any weapons or coin purses or armor that had been left behind was stripped from the fat beasts and carried off with Met'at and his court.

The Black Brothers did the same with their fallen, and packed up their horses. Enigma adjusted his saddle so that the horse could accommodate another rider. Nebula tried to help Evie to her feet, but the two of them, weak from their fall, could not support one another.

Ethan and Enigma strolled over together, neither one giving the other the satisfaction of a compliment of decent battle or negotiating skills.

"Evie may ride with me," Enigma said. "Nebula, see if you can double with a Black Brother." He scanned the crowd of men and sighed disapprovingly.

Ethan crouched to Evie's eye level and the half smile returned. "I think you should ride with me," he told her, his hands tossing her thigh back and forth in examination. She hissed as he did so.

"No," Durward objected at once. "That would not be wise."

Ethan looked up at him and scoffed. "It's the wisest decision we could make. She's injured," he said, waving a dismissive hand at the satyr. "You're not the best rider, and you couldn't possibly support her and yourself. At least if the elf rides with you, she could manage to keep herself on. This one would just slide off and get trampled to death by your horse." The sellsword flicked the space between the pirate girl's eyes with a chuckle.

She batted his hand away and rolled her eyes. What's with the flicking? She wondered. Evie was annoyed that the mercenaries had very little trust in her abilities. They've never seen you truly fight, what do you expect?

Evie looked at Durward, who's jaw clenched at the quip of his skill. He made no reply though, and when he trudged away. His bruised ego was hanging off the back of his neck. Nebula stayed by to make sure Ethan was capable of helping Evie up.

His long arms slid underneath her back and behind her knees, and he propped her up from his crouched position with her cradled against his chest. God, I look so helpless, she moaned internally. She wanted badly to slap him and walk straight off into the trees to slay the ogres that almost killed her. But helpless was the operative word, and she found herself cursing under her breath as Ethan lifted her up to climb into the saddle. She could hardly move her leg to straddle the beast, so Ethan held her side-saddle as he climbed on, his arms entrapping her inside the reigns.

"You could lean against me," he said, pulling her close to his front. Evie pushed off him and sat up straight, kneading at her cramping leg muscles.

"No," she replied plainly.

He stifled a chuckle and rounded the group with his palfrey, leading them further into the trees. There were no roads and no paths to follow. Instead, Ethan was leading them by pure instinct. And he looked serious, like he was lost in some wonder between his ears. They rode in silence, only Evie's muffled cries under her hair when her legs began to cramp again. But Ethan would subtly massage above her knee until the aching passed, and then would put his hands back where they belonged-- on the reigns.

After a few hours, and a few hundred oak trees swallowing them whole, the leader felt inclined to speak again. Even Nebula and Enigma had stayed quiet, along with The Black Brothers-- most likely too afraid another song would attract the wrong sort of attention.

"Care to do some light reading tonight?" he asked Evie, who had been fighting her tired eyes.

"W-what?" she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. She adjusted the tricorn on her head and perked up, taking in a deep breath of the dry Dratsac air. Lazarus felt heavy hanging from her back.

Ethan pulled the small manuscript from inside his vest, wiggling it at her. "I'm saying, do you want to read the magic book?" He was keeping his voice down, she noticed.

Evie peeked over at Enigma on his horse; he was staring at them with tired, distraught eyes. There's something different about him, she noticed. Why won't he just tell us what he's hiding?

"Why did you write about me in your journal?" she whispered.

Ethan sighed. "I didn't. I told you the book is magic."

"Oh stop it. Stop talking to me about nonsense," she scolded.

"I'm not. And you'd know it if you gave me a chance to explain," he urged. His eyes were hard but honest, and they probed at her very soul.

"Fine. Tell me then, sellsword." Tell me your fairy shit tales for children.

Ethan tucked the book back into his vest. "What I read in the book, will not be that same as what you read," he began softly. "It can talk to you, in a way. So when you saw your name, it was probably just saying hello."

Evie pursed her lips. "Go on," she said, trying not to look over at her captain. She hoped he wasn't listening to their conversation and thinking how stupidly gullible she was.

"Think of a memory, or something you'd like to remember. It could be anything-- your birth, your first kill, your first lover--"

Evie's face grew hot.

"It can tell you about that thing you want to remember-- let you relive it as if you were reading a book about your life. And sometimes, it can answer your questions, though she seems to be a picky blighter. All you have to do is think it, and read. The book will know," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching at her.

"And you're not lying to me?"

He leaned down and pulled her chin up to face him. "Magic is not a lie. Ilia and Ushuros bless us every day with these gifts."

Evie's pulse quickened. Perhaps it will let me see my father again. Or it could tell me where to find him? "I could read it tonight? When we make camp?" she asked.

Ethan let his smile grow across half his face. "Of course. When we make camp," he promised.

Suddenly Evie wanted to sleep again, to get to nightfall faster so she might read the book sooner. She crooked-ed her hat and fell into the sellsword, his earthy scent welcoming her slumber against the board muscles of his chest. She felt his chin resting on her head, and his arms tighten slightly around her, and she drifted the way she had so many nights before-- comfortably.