This Golden Flame Read online

  Only I did hear it. They sang to me, a song like I’ve never heard before.

  “You work with wood,” Karis breathes, her eyes wide. It makes her look younger. I wonder who she might have been if her parents had never died and her brother wasn’t taken. Would she be this bright-eyed girl beside me?

  Kocha gives an easy shrug, but Wreska looks us over, her expression cool. “He works with wood. I work with iron.” Her fingers tap over her bracelets, over the circles and swirls. They’re as different from Kocha’s runes as either of them are from mine. I want to reach out and touch them, except that I don’t particularly want to draw this woman’s attention or her ire. “They’re very different practices from very different parts of the world.”

  A blush crawls up Karis’s neck, angry and hot. “Sorry,” she mutters. “We didn’t learn much about other Scriptworkers back on Tallis.”

  “Of course you didn’t.” Wreska’s gaze trails down until it lands on Karis’s wrist, the skin there still obviously paler. Karis tucks her arm into her skirt.

  “You know,” Wreska says, “you can take off your robes and your bracelets, but you’ll still be Scriptorium underneath. You’re still part of a nation that has only ever used its runes and its Scriptwork for one thing. To destroy.”

  Karis goes stiff. I want to back away from the tension that crackles between them like an imminent thunderstorm, but Karis straightens.

  “The only reason we’re Scriptorium,” she says, eyes flashing, “is because we were street kids who were handed over to that place. And if you think that makes us them, you’re as naive as any of our great Scriptmasters.”

  I wince as Wreska’s eyes narrow, her fingers stilling. We don’t need a fight with these people. I’m debating taking Karis’s arm and pulling her away when Kocha laughs, the sound so deep and sudden that I startle. He nudges Wreska with his elbow and the smallest of smiles twitches at the edges of her lips.

  “Well, you’ve got some grit to you, girl,” Wreska says. “I’ll give you that.” She claps Finn on the shoulder and the two of them thread through us as they continue down the deck.

  “Welcome to the Streak, little ones,” Kocha calls back over his shoulder. “It’ll be a treat having a fourth Scriptworker on board.”

  A fourth Scriptworker. I don’t understand who they’re referring to until both Karis and Dane look my way.

  I stare blankly. Me, a Scriptworker? The runes on my skin are limited, I know that. I can only ever do what they allow. They have always marked me as a thing. Yet Wreska and Kocha didn’t look at me or my runes that way. I never thought that these lines could be something that made me belong. I look down at the runes on my hands.

  I’ve never really belonged anywhere.

  Finn laughs. “Seems they like you.”

  “Wouldn’t want to know what they’d do to someone they don’t like,” Karis mutters.

  “Kocha and Wreska are all right. It’s just the Scriptorium over here that they hate.” Finn looks out across the waves. “You should see some of the other Scriptworking institutions out there, though. Like the ones in Zara’s homeland. There, everyone learns the Script. The rich, the poor. Old people, young people. The things they can do in those places, when you get that many people working together, when the Script isn’t used for power but for utility? It’s stunning. All I’ll say is that when this is all over, I’m sure not staying here.”

  “When what is all over?” Karis asks.

  A fleeting grimace crosses Finn’s face. “This round of sailing,” they say, shoving off the railing. “I should be getting some shore leave soon.”

  Karis frowns, but Finn just stares her down and there’s a dare on their face, as if challenging her to call them out. I expect her to. Only she doesn’t.

  Finn smirks. “Well, let’s get you to work. You don’t want to be known as Scriptorium and slackers.”

  They take us to the stern of the ship, where there’s a pile of red fabric strewn over some crates. “First task for you lot,” they say. “Mending sails.”

  Karis groans, but I step forward, eager. Mending sails. That means those new runes.

  Eratian runes are only used to destroy, to lock, to attack, but that’s not how Zara used hers last night. I look them over. There’s a pattern to the weaving, slanting lines in the runes before matching lines in the runes that come behind. I press my hands against the cloth and the rhythm of pounding drums crashes into my head. It’s fast. Thrilling. I’ve never heard anything like it.

  “Supplies are in that crate there,” Finn says. “Good luck.”

  12

  * * *

  KARIS

  I run my fingers over the runes woven in dark red thread against the sails, their tint so close to the fabric they meld into the cloth.

  Back on Tallis, there was nothing like this. I’m only a few days away from that place, and already I’m seeing how much bigger the world is than I ever thought before. Now it’s right here at my fingertips.

  And I’m doing a lousy job at fixing it.

  I jab my needle back into the sail, narrowly avoiding piercing my thumb as I struggle to work it through the thick fabric. Sewing is not one of my skills. If one of my chitons ripped, it stayed ripped more often than not until I grew enough to be given a new one. Judging from the fact that Alix has already broken one of the bone needles on his hard fingers, I’m guessing it’s not something his father insisted he learn either. Luckily, we have Dane. He actually cared about how he looked back on Tallis, and that meant sewing.

  He catches me watching him and leans over. “That looks worse than the rip did,” he says, right as Alix breaks a second needle. Alix looks dolefully at the snapped pieces as Dane gives an overdramatic sigh. “Am I the only one here with actual life skills?”

  I can’t help but grin. “Yes.”

  Dane rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk up. “Here.” He takes the cloth from my hand and starts mending it. “I’m only doing this so we’ll be done before midnight.”

  I fight back my smile, trying to look serious. “Of course.”

  Dane’s needle dips into the sail, quiet for a few moments. “So what do you two make of all this?”

  I bite my lip, sobering. They might be taking us where we want to go, but the Streak still has a captain I’m not sure I trust any more than she trusts us. Even the other pirates—Finn and Ava, Kocha and Wreska. There’s something here that isn’t quite adding up for me. “I don’t know. Zara and her crew are playing friendly at the moment, but that could easily change.” I hesitate, then look at Alix. “She hasn’t tried to use your tome again, has she?”

  Alix’s hands still. “No, she hasn’t. But there’s something...strange about Zara. Almost familiar.”

  “Familiar?” I ask. “Like you’ve met before?”

  “We couldn’t have met. The last time I was awake was two hundred years ago. I don’t know what it is. I...feel something when I’m around her, as if she has this energy to her.”

  An energy. I don’t feel anything around Zara, except a vague intimidation I wouldn’t admit out loud to another soul. We have so many unknowns in our lives right now, I don’t really want to add another one to the list, especially not one like her. How did someone as young as her become captain anyway?

  “I don’t think we should trust them too far,” Dane says. He runs his fingers along his hurt cheek. “There are things here that don’t make sense. Like how a pirate knows the Eratian Script. How she managed to get a gun.”

  “Are they that rare?” Alix asks.

  Dane nods. “Notoriously so. On the whole island of Tallis there were only two. The runes are so complicated, most of the time they explode before completion.” He drums his fingers on his hip, where his sword used to hang. “I’d feel better if we were at least armed. But our illustrious captain confiscated my blade with everything else.”


  “You have a problem with one of my decisions, soldier boy?”

  Zara. I wince as she swaggers over to us, hands on her hips. How much of that did she hear? Not that it really matters, since all of it was incriminating.

  Dane stands, facing her head-on. I resist the urge to kick him. If he gets us thrown in the brig, I’m spilling my gruel down his back.

  “I should have my sword,” Dane says.

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Because the Scriptorium may be tracking us right now. And if they find us, you’ll need my help.”

  Chuckles sound from some of the nearby pirates, who’ve drifted closer. I bite back a groan. Just what we need, an audience.

  Zara rests her hand on the hilt of her own blade. “You think quite highly of yourself, don’t you?”

  “I know I’m a good swordsman. I won’t pretend I’m not.”

  A slow grin spreads over Zara’s face. I’ve never seen a shark before, but they must look like that right before they strike. “All right, soldier boy, you’re so eager to prove yourself? Beat me and I’ll give you your sword back.”

  That surprises Dane. “You want me to fight you?”

  “What, too scared to take on a captain?”

  Dane scowls. “No.”

  Zara steps back, pulling her sword from her scabbard and twirling it in an elaborate flourish that sends the pirates around us clapping and hooting.

  One of her men throws his blade at Dane. He catches it easily. As soon as he has a sword in his hand, I can tell he’s more comfortable. This blade is a curved one and it’s long, too, with a weighty guard on its hilt. I know better than most it’s not what Dane is used to, but if that makes him uneasy, he doesn’t show it.

  I’m uneasy enough for the both of us. Dane may not be humble, but he is right. He’s a good swordsman—excellent, in fact. But he’s never fought someone like a pirate captain before. I don’t know much about fighting, but I can tell how adeptly Zara handles her own blade. Dane’s pride might have wagered more than he can win.

  The pirates form a loose circle around the two fighters. Kocha and Wreska push through to the front, glancing between their captain and my friend.

  Dane is barely in his stance when Zara lunges forward. Their blades clash. Dane is already moving, slipping to the side and lashing out. Zara blocks his blade easily and twists away. Her eyes are feverishly bright. She rushes in and they engage once again, their swords blinding streaks beneath the midday sun.

  They move as if in a dance, connecting, separating, connecting again. There’s something beautiful about it and I feel a twinge of jealousy in my gut. If I could fight, Matthias and I might never have been separated. I might not have been forced to stay on Tallis all those years.

  Dane and Zara separate again and slowly circle one another. Their chests heave as sweat slides down their temples. Around them the pirates lean in, eager. Expectant. They’ve stopped cheering and there’s such a hushed silence I can hear the groan of the wood as the Streak rocks.

  “I’ll give you this, soldier boy,” Zara says. “You are good.”

  Now it’s Dane’s turn to grin. It’s the first time he’s truly looked alive since we left Tallis. And she gave that to him, not me. “So, I get my sword back?”

  “Oh no, I said you had to beat me for that.”

  Zara lunges forward, hard enough to drive Dane back toward the railing, the pirates scattering out of the way. She moves again, but in her eagerness she leaves an opening. Even I can see it. Dane’s eyes glint in triumph and he jabs at her.

  Quick as a trap clamping shut, she twists out of the way, grabbing his arm as it goes past. Dane’s eyes barely have time to widen in surprise before Zara sweeps his feet out from under him. He falls onto his back, hard, his sword clattering away across the boards. He scrambles to get up but Zara presses the tip of her blade to the base of his throat.

  She grins, still breathing heavily. “I guess that esteemed Scriptorium of yours never taught you how to fight dirty.”

  The pirates around us erupt with hoots and cheers as Dane gapes at Zara, flabbergasted. I can’t think of the last time I saw that particular expression on his face. Really, I can’t think if I’ve ever seen it.

  Zara turns away.

  “Will you teach me?”

  The crowd quiets as Zara turns to me.

  I straighten. “Teach me to fight, I mean.”

  Zara cocks her head. I need to phrase this the right way if I’m going to convince her.

  “When we ran from the Scriptorium, when you caught us in that cave, I was useless, Captain. As an acolyte, the Scriptorium never gave me the chance to learn to fight.”

  Zara props a hand on her hip. “I must say, that’s not a very convincing argument. It sounds like you want to know sword-fighting so you can use it against me and my crew. Why would I help you with that?”

  I look at Zara. Part of me admires her after that fight. She is frenetic energy, sea grit, and sly smiles. It’s been a long time since I saw Dane bested. I want to be able to fight like she does.

  If I’m going to convince her, I need to be like her. I throw back my shoulders, folding my arms over my chest to copy her confident stance and stare her down. “Because you don’t seem like the type who’s all right with a girl not being able to defend herself.”

  Everyone is silent around us. I wonder if I’ve stuck out my neck too far and now my head’s about to be lobbed off.

  Zara laughs. “True enough.” She jams her sword back through her belt and pulls out her smaller knife. “Someone get this girl a dagger.”

  13

  * * *

  ALIX

  I watch the fight from the sidelines, perched on a barrel that groans beneath my weight every time I shift. Karis looks wobbly with her dagger but no matter how many times Zara knocks it from her hand, Karis picks it back up.

  I don’t know how she does it. Karis is all fire and spark. She’s ready to take on anything.

  The few times I’ve had to fight, I’ve hated it. There’s nothing brave or fair about my way of fighting, of using my strength against others who could never match it. Yet here is Karis, wanting to fight, learning to fight, and as bad as she is, I can see the pirates’ respect as she keeps going.

  I look down at my hand, clenched into a fist on my knee. If I wasn’t me, wasn’t an automaton, would others respect me for my strength as well instead of fearing me for it? Would I stop fearing my own strength?

  By the time Zara finally stops their training, it looks as if only sheer stubbornness is keeping Karis upright. We head down into the hold. I walk slowly, trying to match Karis’s hobble, as we round crates and hammocks and barrels, dimly lit by the shifting light coming through the portholes. Every once in a while, the light hits a piece of iron embedded in the wood, making it shine like a star. It’s only been a short day, but I’m already getting used to the creaking wood and shifting shadows.

  “Why didn’t you ever ask me to teach you to fight?” Dane asks.

  “How could I?” Karis groans. “The Scriptorium would never have allowed that. And now that I’m here, well...” She gives him a sly grin. “Of course I want to be taught by the winner.”

  Scowling, Dane rolls his eyes, then reaches out and lightly bops her on the head. “Brat.” I thought he’d be upset by his defeat, but he’s smiling. Perhaps he was simply happy to have a sword in his hand again.

  The hammocks we’ve been assigned hang in the back corner of the lowest deck, swaying slightly between the posts. Dane collapses into his, then grimaces and pulls out a stinking boot from beneath his back. “And to think when I was a child I dreamed of being a pirate,” he mutters, throwing it to the side.

  Karis rolls into her own, wincing. She reaches over and pokes him in the ribs. “The glamorous life isn’t quite as glamorous as you thought?”

&nb
sp; “Hardly.”

  I stay standing. One of the hammocks is mine, but even if the mesh of ropes could bear my weight, I feel jittery. I want to move, even though there’s nowhere to go on this ship, there’s not even room to pace in the cramped quarters down here. It’s so different from the gleaming spaces of my father’s villa that it’s hard to believe I’ve stood in both. More and more, that old life feels like some sort of dream.

  “Alix?” Karis asks. “Are you all right?”

  I’m embarrassed that she noticed. I try to shuffle my emotions into order, to pin down exactly what it is that’s bothering me.

  “What if the captain learns something about my runes, and it gives her more ways to control me?”

  It’s the first time I’ve said the words aloud. It’s the first time I’ve really let myself think them. I drift my fingers over the lines beneath my sleeve. Once these must have been common knowledge, but they’re obviously not anymore. If no one figures them out, then no one can ever turn them against me.

  The only problem is, I don’t remember what these runes mean either, so if I don’t let anyone else try, I might never know.

  Karis frowns as she levers herself up in her hammock. “Have you been worrying about that this whole time? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  She makes it sound so easy. It isn’t easy to explain that I always worry about my runes. That’s simply what it’s like to be who—what—I am. I shrug as I settle on the floor, not caring about the sea grit packed between the boards. “The captain said she thought my runes could help her learn something. What if she does, and the temptation to use what she finds becomes too much?”

  Dane and Karis glance at each other and in their expressions, I read the words they won’t say. If Zara uses my tome, there won’t be anything the two of them can do. Here on this ship we’re outnumbered, and the only escape route would be through leagues of ocean. I could make that. Though the memory is shifty, I remember moving through the murky depths of water, my weight enough to hold me to the ocean floor. There wouldn’t be any way for me to take Dane and Karis, though, and I’m not going to leave them to be thrown in the brig again, or worse.