Page 4 of The Lost Fae
"Well, I would expect that you would." She lifts her chin.
"Beatrice Ann was one of the first truly famous female pirates. Or at least that's what the stories say." I turn toward Lincoln. "My history teacher did a small lesson on pirates, their origins, and how they've changed over the years." I squint at Beatrice. "How are you alive? That was centuries ago."
I pass over the question before she can answer. Her brows pinch together as I speak. "Started when she was only seventeen. She adopted orphans, only girls, and they rode the waves of the sea destroying merchant ships in their travels. But from what I've read, she was killed by a royal ship sent to hunt her down by the King and Queen of that time."
"Ah, fftt," she blusters, "I was not killed off by no royal ship! They chased us, until my ship fell off the edge of the earth and we landed here." Beatrice's knuckles turn white as she grips her cup.
"Well, they are all just stories. The name Beatrice Ann was never actually recorded in a history book." I bite my lip.
"Wemadehistory!" Beatrice hisses, exchanging a glance with Johanna.
"So you're telling me that you really are the pirate of legends?" Lincoln says, in almost a bored tone. "... centuries old? And utterly human?"
"You are deceptive,” she says slowly, "We have not lived for centuries. Merely years. But I AM Captain Beatrice Ann. Every member of my crew has been adopted, saved from their watery graves and pathetic lives aboard various merchant ships. I destroyed well over two-hundred royal ships!"
"Spies." Johanna puts emphasis on each S. "How else would they know this information?"
"I'll take this feud to the queen of this realm!" Captain Beatrice threatens as if that holds any sort of meaning for Lincoln and I.
She can't be real. She's human. She'd long since be dead.
Some things can exist without explanation.Lincoln's thoughts echo.
I have half a mind to send him a dirty look and break my stare down with Beatrice who's turning red in anger, but a rapid knock sounds at the door. Johanna moves without command cracking the door to answer.
"They're here," a whispered voice says, some version of panic making their pulse skyrocket.
Beatrice snaps her head toward the door. In a flurry of movement, both her and Johanna kick at a few boards in the wall that pop open to reveal new weapons. Dark dangerous weapons that I immediately recognize.
Iron.
The sword and axe get dropped into the hidden storage and both of them arm themselves with wicked blades cut from the deadly material. The captain points her iron sword at us.
"I guess we'll see where your loyalty lies. If you're being honest, then I wish you best of luck in surviving the incoming raid."
Then Captain Beatrice Ann and her first mate Johanna burst through the door. Their presence replaced only by the sound of a roaring battle cry.
Two
Lost To History
Bootsclomp in an angry stampede all over the main deck. The sound of swords sparking off of one another rings like battered wind chimes. Lincoln and I bolt out of our seats. My hand reaches for his as we peek out the cabin door.
Large grappling hooks cling to the ship’s rails. Pointy-eared Fae spill over its edge and into the frenzy of waiting humans. Colors flicker behind their backs like waving flags tethered to their backs. Fae growl at the iron cuts that bite the flesh harder than they should and push forward nonetheless. Humans scatter about, forming a perimeter around us and the stairs that lead down into the ship to the right of the cabin.
A few Fae stand before the humans. Bright and sparkling, their wind-blown flags rise up behind them. Not flags... No.
Wings.
Some of them are tattered at their edges, other's wings are sliced and scarred. More Fae rise up over the edge, but don't use the long ropes to pull them to the waiting human army like the others did. They hover over the entire ship with wings beating to create a strong tornado of wind.
Some wings are the red of freshly drawn blood, others are a crisp blue of a star filled night. Vibrant fuchsias and striking chartreuse, every Fae holds a different blend of color in their wings.
"Barnabus! Call off your goons or this will be the last time you try to steal from me!" Beatrice's voice calls out.
Barnabus.Lincoln thinks, his thoughts striking at recognition of the name. There is a longing in his gaze too as he watches the Fae do what he hasn't been able to do himself in years. My own wings lay curled against my skin underneath my dress, twitching.
"You know that name, don't you!? Just as I could recall Beatrice's," I say as I kick at the same boards the Captain and first mate did. The hidden compartment easily pops open and I pull out the captain's long sword. I hold it steady in my hand. My attention drifts to his back, to the scarred stumps along his shoulder blades. I don't let myself look long.
