Tress of the Emerald Sea

“Thinking about your fate?” the Sorceress said, never one to pass on inflicting a little misery. “Thinking about how you traveled all this way only to end up in chains?”


“Yes,” Tress said. “And thinking that…well, it’s not that bad, actually.”

“Not that bad!” the Sorceress said, stalking forward, ignoring the clinking sound from behind—like something metal going down the steps. “Dear, you’re powerless! You wanted to save your love, but can’t even save your own self! You thought yourself a powerful pirate, yet here you are. At the end of your quest. You’ve ended up like every girl from any story. Needing to be rescued.”

Freeze that moment.

Imagine it: Charlie the rat, spinning in the air within a pewter cup, bouncing down the stairs. Observed by a bemused cat from above, who had given the swat that sent the cup tumbling.

Fort, Ann, and Salay reaching the tower with me hoisted high overhead.

Tress. Bound by glowing bonds. Held to the wall.

Confident.

“Those stories always leave something out,” Tress said. “It’s really not a problem that someone needs to be saved. Everyone needs help. It’s hard to be the person who makes trouble, but the thing is, everyone makes trouble. How would we help anyone if nobody ever needed help?”

“And you?” the Sorceress asked, starting to draw runes in the air. “You’re going to have quite the curse, I’ll tell you. I’ve been saving this one for a special occasion. You will spend the next several decades in misery, child.”

Down below, a tiny voice echoed up from the hallway. “Magic door, please open!”

“The part the stories leave out,” Tress said as the Sorceress’s runes formed into a vibrant wall, “is everything that comes before. You see, I’ve discovered that it’s all right to need help. So long as you’ve lived your life as the kind of person who deserves to be rescued.”

The Sorceress released her curse, a blast of light and energy meant to enwrap Tress and transform her. Instead, the runes exploded in a blinding shower of light. Filling the room with white energy that momentarily blotted out all possible sensation.

When it faded, I stood between Tress and the Sorceress—with the key officers of the Crow’s Song behind me and a little rat on my shoulder—my hands pressed forward, having created an Invested shield of light to shelter Tress. It was constructed of Aons. Which I could now draw. The mechanics might bore you. The results, though, were spectacular.

I was wearing a floral buttoned shirt, shorts that were way too short, and sandals.

With socks.

“Hello, Riina,” I said. “I hope your last few years have been exactly as lovely as you are.”



She lowered her hands, her jaw dropping.

“Why, yes,” I said, gesturing to my current clothing, “I do know this outfit is awful. I realize one should never bring up politics at dinner with one’s in-laws. And I know that you, my dear, are living proof that someone doesn’t need to be the least bit funny to be an utter clown.”

A deep glow pulsed beneath my skin. Finally.

Turns out that to get this particular set of powers to work, you couldn’t simply fake Connection. You needed an invitation and adoption into a very select group. My only chance had been to find one smart enough to be a member of that group, stupid enough for me to toy with, and sadistic enough to trade membership for the opportunity to see me cursed.

“Damn you,” she muttered.

My curse was broken. My senses restored. She could see it as easily as I could.

I’d won.

“Excellent work, cabin boy,” Tress said, still attached to the wall. “We’re going to have to promote you after this.”

“Wait…we won?” Salay asked. “Hoid, you’re…um… What are you?”

“The term ‘sorcerer’ will do,” I told her. “I have won our bet.”

“Wait,” Charlie said from his shoulder. “It was really a bet? You let her curse you for a simple bet?”

“Please,” I said. “Was anything about what we just did simple?”

The Sorceress waved her hand, dropping Tress from the wall. “Go,” she said. “Before I change my mind.”

Fort helped Tress as she stumbled, and she nodded in thanks. Then she turned to the Sorceress. “First,” she said, “end Charlie’s curse.”

“I can’t,” the Sorceress said. “I can’t break a curse unless the terms are met. It’s impossible.”

Tress looked to me. There were ways, but the Sorceress probably wasn’t capable of them. So I nodded. It was true enough.

Tress took a deep breath, then looked back at the Sorceress, her face becoming like steel. “We’re not leaving,” Tress said. “You are.”

“Excuse me?” the Sorceress snapped.

“You’ve cursed people who only wanted to talk to you,” Tress said. “You’ve taken prisoners, robbed merchants, and destroyed fleets. You are a scourge upon this sea. This planet.” She drew herself up, partially to intimidate the side of her that was shocked by her own audacity. “I demand that you leave this world. Go away, and never return.”

“Oh please,” the Sorceress said. “Who are you to make demands of me?”

In response, Salay and Fort pulled pistols on her. Ann somehow got out three at once. Charlie growled. It wasn’t very intimidating, but it made him feel good to contribute.

Tress didn’t bother with a gun. She nudged me. “Cabin boy,” she said, “zap her or something.”

“You’re giving me orders?” I said softly.

“You’re on my crew, aren’t you?” she said. At least she had the good graces to blush about it.

I sighed and, as ordered, stepped forward and raised my hands. I met the Sorceress’s eyes, and knew what she was thinking. She, like most of her kind, was very good at something we call risk/reward projections. She’d come to this planet because nothing here could threaten her. Then she’d found a dragon living here. Then I’d arrived.

She might have been able to beat me. Curse me again. But she might not have been able to. Even if the odds were only one in five that she’d lose, you didn’t live long by frequently taking one-in-five chances that you’ll die. And Riina had lived a very, very long time.

A short time later, we all stood on the deck of the Crow’s Song, looking up at a twinkling speck of light as it vanished in the sky. The tower was gone, taking the Sorceress with it.



I have that effect on people. Stay around too long, and you’ll inevitably envy those who have never met me.

Behind us, the Dougs started to whoop and cheer. Fort rolled out something wonderful to drink, which he’d been saving for such an occasion. Ann decided their cannons needed names, much to Laggart’s lamentation. Salay put her hand to her pocket—and the letter from her father—and suffered it all for now. She even let herself enjoy the celebration.

Tress stepped up to me, holding Charlie. Who was still a rat. “Is there…nothing you can do?” she asked. “No way to break the curse?” Both of them looked to me with hope in their eyes.

“I can’t undo the curse,” I said. “Not at my current skill with the arts. No one can.”