Shades of Self

[rinkac]

Title: Shades of Self

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis – AU

      Series: Magor ‘verse #3

Characters: Cadman, Stackhouse, Porter, Caldwell, Markham, and a few others pop up

Pairing: Cadman/Porter, Stackhouse/Markham

Orientation: Femslash, slash

Rating: R – for language

Word Count: 11, 936

Notes: Happy Holidays for camshaft22 

Prompt: Ancient City: "Under Your Spell"

The schooner Deadless lay at anchor in the shallow cove, waiting to rendezvous with the men who had commissioned her latest raid. All the lanterns were shaded, and every man in the crew was being as quiet as a mouse. No one dared make a sound, lest they incur the wrath of the Captain. 

This was the last run before the Winter Solstice, the crew was anxious to be off the decks and back on land to see their families and friends or just to spend their hard-earned pay. With the Autumn Storm far behind them in this region, it would be smooth sailing to their home port of Botany Bay, a little way to the south.

Stackhouse, first mate of the Deadless raised his lantern to return the signal from the cliffside path. He let the light flash three times before closing the cover and casting the small party gathered around him into darkness once more.

“Sils, you and Ford go circle around those rocks up the path a little and wait. Keep your swords ready. I’ve got a feeling,” the Captain whispered in the darkness. 

“I hate when Captain Cadman has feelings. It always ends badly,” Sils griped as he preceded Ford up the path.

“Shut up and move yer ass!” Ford prodded the sailor’s rear end with the tip of his cutlass.

Stackhouse moved closer to Cadman. “Sir, just to get a gauge on this, is it a ‘bad’ feeling or ‘a really bad’ feeling or is it an ‘oh shit, go man the cannons’ feeling?”

The Captain shuffled the tip of one boot in the sand. “Just a feeling, don’t go screaming off into the night on me, Stacks.”

“Yes, sir,” Stacks relaxed beside Cadman.

There was a scuffling in the darkness. “Captain Cadman, are you there?” a male voice hailed from the darkness. 

“Depends on who is doing the asking,” Cadman growled back huskily.

There was a nervous tittering in the dark between the people coming towards them. A flint was struck and a candle lit and held close to a face. “It’s just me, Todd. I’ve got Steve and Bob and Kenny with me, you remember Steve, from the tavern?” The candle swerved and another eager young face was revealed. 

“We can’t be too careful. You have the agreed upon price?” Cadman called out and waved the party forward.

A small trunk was dropped onto the sand and a sack of coin was jingled. “All here, Captain, sir.” Todd tossed the coins purse to Cadman, who caught it one-handed.

“Caldwell, hand over the potions,” Cadman ordered. The peg-legged former captain of the Deadless nodded and hobbled forward. 

“Whatever you do, lads, do not drop that crate. There would be hell to pay with the Council if they should ever find your bodies. And they have ways of making you pay from beyond the grave,” Cadman warned, turning with a flare of velvet tails and stomping away, bouncing the purse of coins in one hand. Caldwell handed the crate to Todd and the bottles within clinked slightly, despite the straw packing between them.

With a gulp Todd looked into Caldwell’s single eye, trying to ignore the vicious scarring where the other should be. Caldwell smiled as he glanced at the bottles meaningfully, the scarring making the grin look gruesome in the candlelight. 

“I’ve another proposition for you Captain! Another job, if you’ve an interest. This one will pay triple the price,” Todd called out with a trembling voice after forcing himself to look away from Caldwell.

Cadman stopped dead on the path and glanced back over one shoulder. “Triple, you say?”

~*~

“But, sir! Winter Solstice!” Lieutenant Markham, the navigator, practically wailed with despair as the Captain laid out a map of the sea on the big center table.

“Are you a child, Markham? Afraid you’ll miss out on your gifts? I’ll buy you a new sextant with the booty, now shut up and help me chart this course around the Winter Winds. We have to go to the Ancient City of Lantea.”

“Haunted,” Stackhouse mumbled, covering his mouth with one hand when Cadman’s head snapped around. 

Ford also got a glare when he shuffled his feet and gulped noisily, “They say it’s haunted, sir.” Caldwell grunted in agreement and tossed his head towards Ford.

“Since when are you all lily-livered cowards? This used to be the best ship and crew on the coast. This is the gods damned Deadless! And I’m the fucking Dread Pirate Cadman, and I say there is no such thing as ghosts!” Cadman slapped a hand down on the map, making the officers jump. “Plot the course, Markham, or I’ll bust you down to cabin boy and make you service the cook and the gunners until you can’t walk anymore, do you understand me?”

Hurriedly jabbing a finger at the center of the eastern sea and placing a silver marker in the shape of the Deadless on the map, Markham sputtered, “The city is there, and we’re over here. If we don’t run into a storm, I’d estimate three days, Captain.”

Satisfied with Markham’s apparent change of heart, Cadman nodded. “Plot it out and then notify the helmsman to change course.” The coin purse was tossed to the first mate. “Stackhouse, share this out among the men when you tell them about the delay getting back. If Navie Markham is correct, we should be able to get back to Botany Bay by the day before Solstice. Tell them to stay on task to ensure we stay on schedule.”

“Yes, Captain,” Stacks replied.

“I’ll be in my quarters,” Cadman said and walked out of the room.

~*~

The face that stared back from the small looking glass bolted to the wall was hers only because she had bought and paid for the spell that made it so. It was not the face she had been born with. The spell that protected her and enabled her to make her way in this masculine world had been expensive, but thus far, worth the price. It was much easier than wearing false mustaches and beards and talking in a deep voice had been. 

Unable to leave his daughter behind, Laura’s father had cut her hair, disguised her in boy’s clothing and taken her to sea when she was twelve and her mother died. As the Deadless’s navigator, George Cadman had been able to bring his child aboard as his cabin boy. Using the spell and disguising herself as a man had been Caldwell’s idea, to protect her when he no longer was able to do so, after the attack that had cost Cadman her father, the Deadless her mast, and Captain Caldwell his leg, an eye and the use of his voice. 

Stackhouse had been Caldwell’s cabin boy at the time, and was the only member of the original crew still aboard. After Caldwell had written out the instructions and Laura had drunk the transforming potion they bought, Stackhouse and Caldwell had remained on board the Deadless while Captain Cadman hired on a new crew of privateers. (Some called them pirates, but that was only when times were very tough. There had been quite a few rough spots over the years.) It had been Stackhouse that had woven the tall tales of the nefarious deeds the Dread Pirate Cadman had performed and slowly convinced the crew that the reputation had been earned. Cadman merely had to go along with things, adopting a gruff demeanor and grunting a lot. 

Proving to be invaluable as a mentor, Caldwell kept the ship’s logs and taught Laura everything he knew about captaining a ship. She was a ready and willing student, and absorbed everything like a sea sponge. Tired of cowering and wanting something more than life as a scullery maid or bar wench, Laura had latched onto the opportunity and exploited it to the fullest. She had no hand at magic, and no dowry, so a life of service was her only other option as a woman with no background. Thus far the arrangement had worked out well. Saving every bit of her share of each take, she had money on deposit in four different ports around the world. The bulk of her treasure was stashed in a depository in Botany Bay, waiting for the day she retired from the sea.

Cadman had been in the guise of a man so long, she had no idea what her own face looked like anymore. The image she saw in the glass was similar to that of her father’s, only with her coloring. She kept the reddish-blonde hair cut short, out of habit. Luckily the spell didn’t cause her to grow facial hair so she didn’t have to deal with the bother of shaving. Her eyes were still her own hazel, just set under a heavier brow.

Sometimes, like now, Cadman wondered how different her life might have been, if she had stayed a woman. 

No one had called her Laura in over fifteen years. For fifteen years, she had been Cadman or Captain or Sir. Other than Stackhouse and Caldwell, no one in the world knew Laura Cadman still existed.

She flopped on her bunk and tried to banish the maudlin thoughts away by dreaming of the little inn and tavern she planned to one day open when she left the sea.

~*~

Something screeched and scratched outside the windows, but Alison didn’t bother looking up. She wouldn’t be able to see anything, it was too high up. The broken windows were filthy green with sea slime; no light came through them. She wondered if anyone was coming. She told time by the tide, the water level rose and fell with the tide on the floor on the far side of the cell she was in. According to the marks she made on the wall using a piece of broken glass at each high tide, she had been here for more than two turns of the moon. She could not tell the days from the nights by the light, it was always the same dull darkness here. 

She wondered if her ransom had been paid. That did not mean her captors would release her. She doubted they would, in fact, she doubted the ransom would be paid. The Council did not make deals with kidnappers, especially not for awkward spell casters that got themselves into trouble while harrying off on personal, unsanctioned crusades. Alison slumped down onto the hard bench that served as her bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. 

This was an odd place, likely created by magical means. The walls were of no material Alison had ever seen before in her life. Smooth, like glass, mostly the color of the sea after a storm, where the mold had not taken hold and discolored it. The windows were glass, and there might have been a pattern in them, if they were not so filthy. She spent many hours staring at the windows; the patterns she thought she saw there might be just her imagination.

Her stomach clenched and made a loud noise; she was hungry. They had not fed her for three days now. Nor had she seen or heard a guard in three days. They might leave her here to die. She was already weak; it would not be much longer. The dampness and chill would certainly bring illness, if starvation and thirst didn’t kill her first. 

Reaching into the pocket of her robe, Alison fingered the small amulet containing a spell charm that she had managed to conceal from her abductors. It was a last resort, truly a last resort to be used when all other options had passed. She had been well paid to make up the Wraith Spell by a dying father who needed to linger on beyond his death to pass on a message to his son that was off at a war overseas. The spell would have enabled him to remain bound to this realm in a ghostly form until someone, hopefully his son, broke the spell and his soul was released. 

If she cast it now, before the death of her body, she would at least be free to roam this odd place and explore. If a ship came, she could leave with it and explore the world. Being a ghost might not be such a terrible thing. She would at least be free from the pain of starvation. 

She held the amulet up before her eyes and stared at it. She glanced around at the four walls of her prison. Three days without food. Her water jug was down to the end. She would die soon. If she could leave this cell, before her body was fully expired, she might be able to beg a living person for help, might be able to save her body. She tried not to think about the fact that she would need to find someone capable of casting a spell to rejoin her spirit with her body. She doubted there would be time. 

Alison began to chant the incantation that would slow her body’s demise when her spirit left it, buying her a few more days to bring back help, in the unlikely event that she found someone willing and able to aid her. 

When the incantation was done, she felt the wisps of magic begin to wrap around her. She pinched the amulet between her fingers and pressed it to the smooth, hard floor. Taking a deep breath, she applied enough pressure to break the amulet, releasing the spell. She felt the cold tendrils of the Wraith Spell snake up her arm and across her body. She began to shiver as her body went cold, even colder than she had been in the damp of the unheated cell. When the cold hit her empty belly, she cried out at the pain and hunched over. 

She felt a snap, as if she had been slapped hard across her entire being all at once. Then she was floating free, outside her body. She looked down and saw herself, huddled on the bench. Her cheeks were ashen and sunken in. She looked sick, no she looked dead already.

Alison looked all around; holding her hands up in front of her, but it seemed she did not have a visible form in this shape. That was going to make finding help difficult. She was going to need to remedy this. She knew she should be able to manifest a form; it was part of the Wraithing Spell. She just had to concentrate upon it. Going to the door, Alison was delighted to be able to pass through it. 

Gleeful with her new freedom, Alison floated along the corridors, poking her head through doorways. The rooms were all deserted, and looked as if they had been for quite some time. Dark shapes were covered with ragged cloths. The levels above the one where she had been held were not flooded, as her cell had been. 

Dead plants in pots lined the hallways. All the walls were of the same smooth material her cell had been built with. She saw broken glass from windows on the floor, and the shards did indeed have patterns on them when she examined them closely. The glass that remained in the frames was as dark and dirty as the glass in her cell had been.

This place may have once been very beautiful, but it had clearly been abandoned for a very, very long time.

She saw a dark shadow moving at the end of the corridor and she darted into a side passage. The darkness rolled past her like a storm cloud. She shivered as she sensed malevolence about it. Alison let herself float upwards, hoping to find a place that was lighter and away from that dark thing. She floated up, up and up until she passed through the roof. The sight before her would have made her gasp, had she still been drawing breath. This place was vast and wide. A whole city spread out before her. She swirled around a spire, looking everywhere at once. Five arms reached out to the sea that surrounded this city-island. A memory from her studies came back to her. Lantea. This had to be the Ancient City of Lantea. 

The rumors were true, the place was haunted. Alison giggled. She haunted it now, in a way. But so did that dark cloud-like being. She wondered if there were more of them around. Fearing what might happen to her wraith form; Alison vowed to stay far away from the creature, and any others like it. 

She found a spot to perch, on a high towering spire that gave her a view of the whole city below. She felt very free and at ease for the first time in a long while.

Night came, and Alison stayed at her perch. She found meditating in this form was quite easy and it relaxed her, and so, she meditated the night away. Dawn broke over the horizon and it was a beautiful sight to see. The colors slowly bled up to wash the sky as the sun rose in shades she had rarely seen outside a summer garden. And here it was winter.

She no longer felt the cold. Nor did she felt the burn of hunger. There were no senior Magor making demands upon her time, no tedious chores to do. No studies to do, no tests to take. No one expected anything of her, not any more. Having no family to go back to, Alison found she didn’t miss being corporeal. Death might not be such a bad thing.

~*~

“If anyone was here, Captain, they’re long gone,” Stackhouse said as he looked through the glass at the last of the five piers. They had sailed around the city-island to see if they could find any sign of the kidnappers they had been hired to track down. “Orders, sir?”

“Tie up at the pier where Walter saw ropes and a broken crate. We’ll take a shore party in and explore a bit. They may have left people behind, intending to come back for them.” 

Handing Cadman the glass, Stackhouse turned away and bellowed the orders to the crew. 

Cadman looked through the glass at the spires of the city, thinking that it must have been beautiful once. Now, abandoned, derelict and Season Storm tossed, the city was falling into ruin. Everywhere Cadman looked, buildings were crumbling. Eventually, the Storms would knock the city down and the sea would claim her. 

Something shimmered in the glass, catching Cadman’s attention. It could be a trick of the light, but there seemed to be motion up by the spires. Focusing the glass, watching, Cadman became convinced that something was there. Then it was gone. Sailors by nature were superstitious. The slightest thing could set the men off. Cadman was not mentioning the glare to anyone. It wasn’t worth causing an uproar in the ranks over.

Standing at the rail on the aft deck, Cadman watched and waited for Stackhouse to gather the landing party. The Captain trusted Stacks more than anyone. The debate was whether to leave him in charge of the ship or take him to guard their backs. 

Caldwell hobbled over to stand beside the Captain. He tossed his head in Stackhouse’s direction and then tapped his peg-leg on the deck. “You think I should leave him here.” Caldwell gave her a lopsided smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’d almost arrived at that decision; I prefer to know the ship will still be here when the landing party comes back.”

When Caldwell laughed, it was a harsh sound coming from his ruined throat. He patted Cadman’s arm and hobbled away, having successfully made his opinion on the matter known. 

Later, dragging a recalcitrant Ford down the gangplank by his collar, Cadman pointed in the direction of the open door at the end of the pier. “Let’s get out of the wind, boys.”

Kneeling down beside a rope he found on the deck of the pier, Markham’s brow wrinkled as he held the ends up and declared, “Looks like it was recently cut, Captain.”

“Stay alert, boys, if they’re still here, they’re certainly not expecting company.”

Markham fell into step beside Cadman. “Do you think the Magori is still alive, sir?”

“We’re being paid handsomely to find out. The Council wants her body returned,” Cadman answered. Beside the Captain, Markham shivered. Bodies on board ship were bad luck.

They arrived at the door, which had been forced open in the recent past, judging by the disturbance in the dust on the floor inside the entryway. They followed the trail of footprints down corridors and several staircases to a large room. This appeared to be where the kidnappers made their camp. 

A fire had been built in an upturned metal dish. Checking the ashes, Ford crouched beside it and shook his head. “Cold, Captain.”

Sils called from a doorway at the far end of the room, “Footprints this way, sir. It’s dark, we’ll need the torches.”

Striking a flint, Markham lit the first torch and used it to light the one Sils held. Miller edged over and eagerly lit his own torch. Ford took up the rear position, guarding their backs; Markham went first, followed by Cadman. They went down a few more stairwells. All of the men, at some point, touched their fingers to the strange walls. The general consensus was that the Ancients must have used magic to create their city. No one knew what had happened to the previous residents of Lantea, it was a great mystery, one that had been studied by theologians and historians for many generations.

It looked as if someone had been traveling this same way, back and forth; the footprints went in both directions. They reached a door, and it took three of them to force it open, using a crowbar that had been left beside the door. They could hear water lapping within. 

Waving the torch around the room, Markham held it still when he saw a dark shape huddled on a bench. Ford drew his sword and the quiet brush of blade against sheath was resoundingly loud in the chamber. Long hair, small frame and a fitted gown indicated that the person was a woman.

“Hello?” Markham called, taking a few steps forward. He glanced back at Cadman when the woman sitting there didn’t respond. 

Cadman moved forward. “Hello, can you hear me? Mistress?” 

She didn’t move at all. Holding the torch out before him, Markham moved until he was within arm’s reach of the woman and held the light over her as Cadman moved in and crouched beside her. Cadman reached out to grasp one of the wrists folded around her knees. Something cascaded over him, a tickling that made every hair stand on end and forced a sneeze. “Gods, she’s cold, but I feel a heartbeat, really slow and faint like a little bird, but there.”

The woman’s head came up easily when Cadman wriggled a hand in and lifted her chin. The face was the same as the charcoal sketch they had been given of the young mage that had been taken and held for ransom. “This is Magori Porter. She’s been starved. Bastards. They took the ransom and ran off. Let’s get her out of here, see what we can do for her. I hope we’re not too late.” The Deadless didn’t have a ship’s surgeon. They would have to make fast for Botany Bay and the healers there.

Sils was physically the strongest of them; his arms well muscled after years of hauling on ropes and canvas, so he carried Alison as if she weighed no more than a sack of feathers as they made their way back up towards the pier. 

They reached the second stairwell and went up. Turning a corner, they were faced by a tumbling cloud of blackness, blocking the hallway. Brandishing his sword, Miller, at the front, made a feint forward, touching the blade to the formless mass. He screamed briefly as a tendril swarmed forward and enveloped him. The screaming was suddenly cut off and the hallway was deathly silent once more. 

“Back!” Cadman bellowed unnecessarily as the men turned and retreated. 

“We need to find a different way up; there have to be other stairways!” Markham called, elbowing past Sils and Ford.

Cadman felt a tickle. The Captain twitched and spun around, thinking it the dark thing following them. The air shimmered. “Whose there?” Cadman demanded, staring at the unnatural spot. 

There was no answer, but the shimmering, formless area seemed to shift and move away. Not knowing why, since one formless blob had already proven deadly, Cadman started to follow the shimmering lightness. Cadman suddenly knew that the shimmering light meant to help them.

“This way. Come this way,” Cadman beckoned the rest of the landing party.

“What is that, Captain?” Markham asked as he too saw the shimmery light.

“I don’t know, but it’s leading us away from the other one.” They were led to another stairwell. The shimmering form seemed to get a bit more solid in the torchlight as time went on, glowing more. When they heard the hard pounding of the sea on the wall of the pier, they knew they were getting close to the exit. The shimmering form had led them to safety. They ran down the pier, Cadman waving and shouting for Stackhouse to make ready to cast off immediately. As they barreled up the gangway, sailors were already pulling the ropes away.

They didn’t see any sign of the black cloud following them, though Cadman held the glass up until the pier was no longer in sight. 

The shimmering form, however, followed them onto the ship. It followed Sils to the sickbay and hovered in a corner near the cold, still form of Alison Porter. When Cook heard that the poor girl had been starved nearly to death, he brought a hearty broth to the cabin and sat on a stool beside the bunch, patiently and slowly spooning the soup into Alison’s mouth, rubbing her throat to get her to swallow it. 

Cadman went to the sickbay to check on their ailing passenger. She looked very tiny and fragile, bundled in heavy woolen blankets so that only her face showed. Taking charge of her care, Sills had wrapped a knitted scarf around Alison’s head to ward off the chill. The dark circles under her eyes stood out starkly against the pale skin, and something in Cadman’s middle clenched painfully at the evidence of the Magori’s suffering. 

Cadman pulled over the stool and sat. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Magori Porter, but we’re trying to get you home. The Council sent us to bring you back, and we’re going to do that. I know for a fact that they’ve got the best Physic in the region in Botany Bay. We’re going to take you straight to Physic Beckett as soon as we land.” Cadman doubted they could actually get in to see Physic Beckett himself, but they could try.

The shimmering in the corner caught Cadman’s eye. “Still there, eh? Keeping watch?” The light rushed forward and danced around the Captain and Alison. Emotions washed over Cadman, relief, fear, gratitude, determination and sadness, all at once. 

“What are you, my shiny little friend? Are you a ghost?”

“Sir?” Sils said quietly, coming up behind Cadman.

“Yes?”

“I found this, clenched in her hand.” Sils held out his palm showing Cadman the broken shards of a clay amulet and a string, still attached through a hole in a bit of shard. 

Cadman touched a finger to the pieces and stared over at Alison’s still form. “Magic? What did you do to yourself, girl? What kind of spell did you unleash, eh?” After a few moments, Cadman told Sils, “You know how to handle the shards; you’ll find a piece of clean white cloth in the map chest to wrap them in. We’ll need to show this to the Physic, perhaps someone at the Council can determine what spell the amulet held.”

~*~

They were helping her! Alison was so happy she spun in circles again. If she had arms, she would have thrown them around the big red-headed captain. He had walked into her spell back in the city, and it had mitigated the fear a sailor would naturally have of her wraith form. She felt a tinge of guilt at overriding the man’s natural instincts, but she needed him and his crew to help her, if she were to have any chance at all of surviving. 

Alison had thought she was doomed. She had been alone, darting around, avoiding the cloud of darkness for three sunsets. Then the ship had appeared, sailed around the city and docked and the Captain and his men had gone exploring. She was surprised to hear that the Council had sent these men looking for her. She had not thought she was of any importance. 

She learned their names as they came and went, taking care of her as if she were a baby bird. Cook brought broth every two hours and fed it to her. The one called Sils kept her swaddled in rags and changed them when she wet them. The second evening, bored of watching her sleeping body, Alison floated around the ship, keeping to the shadows as much as possible so she did not frighten any of the crewmen. She found the Captain’s cabin and went in. The man was sitting in an armchair, reading by lantern light.

“Come to keep me company?” the Captain asked without looking away from his reading. 

Bounding across the chamber like a puppy, Alison perched on the top of the chair’s left wing and read over the Captain’s shoulder. Surprisingly, he was reading from a large book about magic spells, specifically, about amulets. “Too bad you can’t tell me what you did. Sils has a steady hand and can cast minor spells if the steps are clearly laid out,” the Captain said as he turned a page. 

That explained the presence of the spell book; they had a magic user aboard. Most ships tried to have at least one caster, especially if there was no surgeon on board. It also explained why Sils was caring for her body. She had overheard Cook wishing they had a proper surgeon, instead of the half-wit. Then Cook had cuffed Sils on the side of his head and ruffled his hair and told him to do his best. 

The book was a very valuable one, all books were. By the binding, Alison could tell that this was not a Council edition, which meant it had been done by a private printer. It looked handwritten to her. 

As the Captain skimmed pages and flipped through the book, Alison read over his shoulder. 

He turned the page and there it was, the same Wraithing Spell Alison had in her own grimoire at home. Excitedly, she bounced up and down. “That’s it, that’s it, that’s it!”

The Captain tilted his head and looked around and up at her. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve gone all flashy.” He skimmed a finger along the page and then peered closer at the description of what the spell did. “Wraithing Spell, eh?” As the Captain read, he muttered aloud. “Hhmm. Fresh cut… mix into… when cool, pour potion into clay amulet. Uh-huh. Hhmm. To cast, break amulet.”

Standing up, the Captain stared at Alison’s shimmering form. “Is this what you are? Are you a wraith of Magori Porter?”

Since it seemed to work earlier, she bounced up and down again in response. The Captain smiled. “If that’s a yes, go over to the door.” Alison darted across the room.

“Well now. Well now, indeed.” The Captain scratched his head and stared at Alison. “I suppose I should welcome you aboard, Magori Porter. Hmm, since we seem to have hit upon a system of communicating, I shall stick to yes and no questions. Are we doing right by you down below? Zip on over by the chair again if we are.”

Since she couldn’t think of a single thing the crew could do for her that they had not already done, she dashed across the room again. 

“Good, good,” the Captain laughed. He held the book open towards her. “Is this spell exactly the same as the one you used?”

Alison floated over and looked at it. She had not memorized the spell, but the ingredients and steps looked to be a match to the one she had followed. She checked the name of the Magor at the bottom responsible for the spell’s creation, and that was the same. She moved over to the door. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The Captain picked up a piece of hair ribbon and used it to mark the place in the book. “Are you hurting, Magori Porter?”

She stayed where she was. 

“No? Then I suppose some good came of the spell.” 

She went to the chair to indicate her agreement with the statement. 

“Hhhm. I have an idea. I need to get some paper.” 

Alison followed the Captain up one deck to a large room where there was a table and chairs, and many rolled up maps and charts stowed in tubs and pigeonholes. Large chests lined the walls. He went to a chest, mumbling to himself as he drew out ink and a quill and some paper, which he tore into pieces.

Wondering what the man was doing, Alison followed at his heels and watched in confusion as he sat at the table and started to write on the paper.

~*~

When Stackhouse entered the cabin, he found the Captain sitting at the table. There were pieces of paper set around the table. He circled around, the papers said ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ ‘I don’t know’ and for some reason, ‘duck.’

“Sir?”

“Our shimmery friend is Magori Porter. We’ve been having ourselves a little conversation.”

Stackhouse looked over at Alison and gulped. “I see, sir. Duck?”

“Variety is the spice of life, Stacks.” Sometimes, his friend Captain Cadman was a bit peculiar. Stackhouse had learned to live with it long ago, and thus said no more. “I presume the Magori cast some kind of spell on herself and that is how she is in two places at once?”

The shimmering light crossed the table to hover near the paper marked ‘yes.’ 

Cadman chuckled and waved at the papers. “You can address our guest directly, Stackhouse.”

“Sir, to save some time,” Stackhouse pulled out a chair and sat in front of the paper that said ‘I don’t know.’ “What have you been able to determine so far?”

“Magori Porter did not know the identities of her kidnappers. She was not able to cast any kind of tracking spell on them; they were warded against her magic. She doesn’t know why they chose Lantea as a hideout. She does not know why she specifically was chosen as a victim, nor why the Council is so eager to have her back. Given the choice of mutton or duck, she prefers duck for dinner.”

Stackhouse just shook his head as Cadman grinned. 

“Now then, I was just trying to determine what kind of spell the Magori cast on me when you barged in. Did you have a purpose in barging in, Stacks?” Cadman spun in the chair and dangled his legs over the edge, swinging them. It was little things like that that reminded Stackhouse that the Captain’s image was just a cover, underneath the burly exterior was a woman, a woman that had once been a fetching child with freckles and dimples. A girl he had fancied himself in love with for a time, before he realized his passions lay elsewhere. 

“Just came to give you the evening report. Watch reports smooth seas ahead, Markham is at the helm and says we’re making good time. I checked with Sils and Magori Porte is still the same. Should we expect a change, Magori?” She moved to hover over him, and belatedly he realized she was answering that she didn’t know. 

“Alison… I have leave to call her Alison; you have to ask for permission for yourself, Stacks. Alison, you cast a trip spell down in that holding cell didn’t you? I felt something when I touched your body. Fess up, my friend.”

Slowly, and if a shimmering glow of light could be said to be acting guilty, Alison did so as she moved over the paper that said ‘yes.’ 

“Don’t be glum. I’m not angry, I merely would like to know what I’m in for. Am I going to start barking at the moon?”

Alison darted over to the ‘no’ paper.

“Turn into something?”

She moved to the ‘duck’ paper. 

“You’re going to turn into a duck, sir?”

Cadman snorted and waved a hand. “No, that’s just a holding answer, it means same answer as last time, it was getting tiresome watching her circle around the table to get to the same spot over and over again. So, it was not a transformation spell. Was it an obligation spell, to coerce us into helping you?”

Alison moved back to the ‘no’ paper.

“Was it a binding?” Stackhouse asked.

Hesitantly, Alison moved from ‘no’ to ‘yes’ and then back again. 

“Hhhm,” Cadman muttered, tapping at his front teeth with the quill in his hands. “Not a binding. What’s like a binding?”

“I don’t know, sir, maybe I should get Sils?” Stackhouse offered. 

Waving the quill, Cadman dismissed him. “Yes, go get Sils and send him here. I’ll send him back to whatever he was up to when I’m done.”

Stopping at the door, Stackhouse asked the question that had been troubling him for days. “Sir, you wouldn’t really have busted Markham down and given him to Cook, would you?”

Tipping his head back to look around the back of the chair, Cadman smiled at him, and for a moment he saw the girl there once again, in her eyes. The image was shattered when Cadman spoke. “Of course not, I know he’s yours. Now go fetch Sils so I can pick his brain. Then go collect Markham at the wheel and take him to bed.”

“Good night, Captain.”

“Good night, Nate. Tell Jason I said pleasant dreams.”

~*~

“Ah, Sils! Come in. Pull up a chair.” The sailor nervously edged over and took a seat in front of the paper marked ‘duck.’ Sensibly, upon reading it, he ducked his head down, keeping low until the Captain shook his head, indicating he shouldn’t.

“Tell me, Sils, what kind of spell might be sort of like a binding, but not exactly like a binding?”

“Huh? I mean, sir?” Sils looked at the Captain in complete confusion.

The shimmering light moved to the center of the table and hovered there. “Oh, right, I should bring you up to speed, shouldn’t I?” The light moved to a piece of paper marked ‘yes.’

“Sir?”

“Magori Porter cast a Wraithing Spell upon herself. That is her there.”

Sils peered at the light. “Oh, well, hello, Magori Porter. I’m very glad we found you alive, well, mostly alive.” Sils coughed nervously. “A Wraithing Spell is generally cast upon death, sir. The Magori must have cast another spell to suspend and prolong her life.”

The shimmering light moved to hover over the paper in front of Sils.

“Sir, why is she saying duck?”

“She is saying yes, that’s just the ‘repeat of the last answer’ paper.”

“Why not just write ‘repeat of the last answer’ on the paper, sir?”

Cadman tilted his head and blinked at Sils. “Do you have something against ducks?”

“Of course not sir.”

“I happen to like ducks,” the Captain declared, crossing his arms. “Now, it seems the Magori cast three individual spells while she was incarcerated. Is that correct, Alison, only three spells?”

She moved to the ‘yes’ paper.

“Good. So, one was the Wraithing Spell, another the spell that prolonged your life, and the third was a trip spell that I felt when it activated. I want to know what that spell was, Sils, since it got all over me. We ruled out a transformation spell and a spell of obligation. When asked if it was a binding spell, Alison wavered between yes and no.”

Looking at the Captain thoughtfully, Sils ran through the spells he knew. His eyes drifted around and he spied the spell book near the Captain’s hand. “Sir, may I?”

“Of course.” Cadman held the book out. 

Sils tossed a quick fetch spell at the book and it flew to his hand. He opened it and scanned down the contents. “What did the trip feel like, sir?”

“Tingles. Made every hair on my body stand on end, made me sneeze.”

“Heat or cold?”

“Neither, that I noticed,” the Captain swung his legs around and sat properly in his chair, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his knuckles as he stared at the glowing light. “What did you tickle me with, girl?’

“Any other symptoms that you’ve noticed? Anything odd, something you’ve done or felt that might be out of the ordinary for you?”

“I trusted a glowy cloud to lead me out of a haunted city! That’s pretty damned odd.”

Sils glanced up. “Did you feel compelled to do so?”

Wrinkling his nose, Cadman shook his head. “No. But I felt like I could trust it, her. I got the feeling that she was trying to help.”

Sils nodded and looked back at the index in the front of the book. “Not a seduction spell?”

Alison moved to the ‘no’ paper and bounced up and down emphatically. 

“Aw, Allie, love, you wound me. Here I thought we had the makings of something special. Aren’t I your type?” The Captain cooed.

When Alison moved to bounce over ‘duck’ a few times, Sils snickered. “Not a binding, but maybe a find me spell?”

Alison moved to the ‘yes’ paper and hovered there. 

“Find me? I suppose that makes sense, she’d have wanted the person that found her body to go looking for her wraith form. Is that right, Alison?” Cadman asked the shimmering form.

‘Duck.’

“Well then, that answers that. It has been a long evening, and I don’t know about glowing bits of cloud, but my eyes hurt and I need some sleep.” The Captain yawned and stretched. 

“Good night, Captain.”

“Night Sils.”

~*~

Alison followed the Captain to his quarters. 

“I’m just turning in, my little friend. No more reading for me tonight. You’re welcome to stay or go as you please, I suppose. Although I prefer if you don’t spook my crew, if it can be avoided.”

She wavered, uncertain what she should do. The Captain set the four pieces of paper around the room. She had never spent the night in a man’s room before. She supposed she could try to get back to her own body, but it was lonely down there, Sils didn’t sit with her, he only came to check on her every once in a while. The Captain was company that knew she was there and talked to her, at least. 

Deciding to stay, she went and hovered in the corner. The Captain chuckled and went about getting ready for sleep. He put his books and charts away, turned the lantern very low and then laughed again. “Well, with you in the room, I hardly need a night light, do I?” He doused the lantern completely. Thankfully, he only stripped down to his small clothes before climbing under the blankets. 

After tossing and turning, the Captain grumbled, “Damn shame you don’t give off heat. My feet freeze all winter, never can seem to get them all the way warm again until spring.”

Alison wanted to advise him to soak his feet in warm water, but she had no way of doing that. Until she got her voice back again, their conversations would be on whichever subject the Captain felt like discussing. 

She drifted to the tiny round porthole and looked out. She could see the glow of the moon on the water, though she could not see the moon itself. The Captain soon went to sleep, snoring lightly. The gentle rhythm of the waves and the sound of the snores were a good backdrop for her meditation exercise and she let herself fall into the peace it brought her.

~*~

They made it to Botany Bay in two and a half days, pushed forward by a storm that gave them a strong wind. 

Cadman ordered a messenger bird sent ahead to the Council, to have a healer meet them at the dock so that they didn’t have to move Magori Porter’s frail body. She had grown weaker, unable to take in any more of the broth Cook had been trying to spoon down her gullet. She needed a healer quickly.

They had no sooner dropped the gangplank than a dark haired man in robes hustled up, a pair of bearers trailing behind him with a stretcher loaded down with bags and satchels. “Right then, where is she?” the healer demanded gruffly.

“Sickbay, this way,” Stackhouse waved to the healer from the doorway leading to the stairs. 

Cadman followed, with Alison in wraith form just behind him. The healer clucked his tongue as he pulled the blankets away from her withered body. “Ach, lassie, what have they done to ye?”

“She was taking broth until last evening, then she wouldn’t swallow anymore,” Sils told the healer. 

The healer touched his hand to her temple and jerked back and away. “Goddess! What’s happened?”

“She cast a Wraithing Spell on herself, healer. She’s over here.” Cadman waved a hand at Alison’s wraith form. “She also cast a preserving spell to keep her body alive. She said she was like this for three days and we’ve had her for a further two and a half. She said she in a lot of pain when she cast the spells, she thought she was near death.”

The healer stared at Alison’s glowing form. “Oh, ye poor thing. Well, let’s see if we can’t fix some of the pain before we force you back in, shall we?” He gestured to the satchel. “I’ll need that, and I’ll need room in here to work, so the lot of ye, out. Exceptin’ yerself, Captain, it is your ship, after all. You may stay, so long as you don’t mind handing me an odd thing now and then?”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Cadman replied. 

The healer worked for over an hour, chanting, mixing potions, forcing doses of draughts down Alison’s cold throat. Cadman stood to the side, leaning against the bulkhead. It seemed to Cadman that Alison’s shimmering form was drooping a bit, hanging low to the floor. “There, now, Allie. You cheer up, the healer seems to know his business, you’ll see, he’ll set you right as rain soon.”

Like a puppy, she circled around the Captain’s boots before moving to hover up near his shoulder. 

“I’d like try to heal her a bit more before trying to reintegrate her. She really needs to be stronger. I’d like to wait a bit.”

Cadman pushed away from the wall. “Why? Is there a danger to her?”

“I’m afraid so. While Wraithing Spells have been known to be undone, it is rare. The usual end to a Wraithing spell is the breaking of the bonds of the soul and body. Forcing them back together goes against the nature of the spell. I would like to consult the annuals back at the Council to read through other successful reintegration spells before I attempt any kind of reversal of this spell.”

The healer bundled Alison’s body up in blankets and the bearers soon carried her out of the sickbay and up onto the deck. 

They had no sooner reached the deck than Alison’s body started to convulse on the stretcher. The healer waved to the bearers, shouting at them to put her down. He knelt beside her and then looked around for the Captain. 

“I canna wait. I have to do it now. The suspension spell is collapsing, her body is dying.”

“You said she was too weak. Couldn’t you cast another suspension spell!” Cadman asked, kneeling beside Alison. 

“She’s too weak. Far too weak.” The healer dug into a satchel and pulled out a wand. He stood and pushed the arms of his robes up, revealing power markings on his forearms. This was no ordinary healer, Cadman realized, this was a full Physic. 

Fumbling under the blankets, Cadman picked up Alison’s cold hand and held it tightly. “Hang in there, Alison. Just a little longer.”

The wraith form moved to hover over her physical form, after circling once around Cadman. 

The Physic began to chant and the crew fell still and silent around them. He moved his wand, scribing deliberate shapes in the air. The air began to tingle with magic that seemed to be drawn from the sea. The Physic must be one of those aligned with Water Forces, which made sense, since he resided in Botany Bay, one of the biggest magic repositories on the coast. It was why the Council made their guild home here.

It felt as if a warm mist had settled on Cadman’s face. The mist began to heat and Cadman felt tendrils of magic swirling around her. She looked up in panic. This wasn’t right; she was being drawn up into the spell. She looked down at her hand; clenching Alison’s and felt energy moving between their palms. “I’m in it!” Cadman called frantically.

“I intended for you to be. It will break, don’t worry,” the Physic responded. “Everything will slake off with the mist. Don’t let go of her hand, she’s drawing some life energy from you, you’re keeping her alive, Captain.”

The light around them began to change; Cadman realized it was Alison’s wraith form beginning to dissipate. The light flared to blinding levels as the spell broke and shattered into a rain of glittering light around them as it fell upon the deck of the Deadless. 

Cadman’s whole body shook, jolted with a sudden pain; crying out, but refusing to release Alison’s hand. Slumping over Alison’s body, Cadman felt the mist slake off, just as the Physic said it would. 

Slowly, Cadman pushed herself up with her free hand, feeling very dizzy.

“Oh, shit!” she heard Stackhouse exclaim behind her, just as the crew began to mutter and mumble. 

The Physic knelt across from her, feeling for Alison’s pulse. “There now, still breathing. That’s a good lass.” The Physic looked up and blinked in surprise. “Captain?”

Cadman was staring down at her hand, where it was clasped around Alison’s, which was growing warmer. Her hand was no longer large and hairy. It was slim and decidedly feminine. She raised her free hand to her face, and found the skin there soft. “Oh, shit.”

“You were under a spell?” the Physic whispered, touching his fingers to her face.

Nodding, Cadman glanced down to where her shirt gapped at the neck. Yes, breasts. “Oh shit!”

The faces of the crew, when Cadman dared to look, were mostly astonished. “We need to get Alison to the Council!” Cadman barked, putting as much authority as she could into her voice. Luckily, the men obeyed and cleared a path to let the Physic pass. 

Stackhouse was at her back and spoke loudly enough to be overheard by at least half the men on deck. “Go with them, Captain; see if they can fix this spell you seem to be under. I’ll handle things here.”

“Thank you, Stacks,” Cadman whispered. Then she ran after the stretcher bearers and climbed up into the back of the cart with Alison.

~*~

“How is Alison?” Cadman asked the woman that came out calling for “Captain Cadman.”

“Her body is stable. She has not woken yet, we do not know the state of her soul, her spirit, as yet. Physic Beckett is still working with her, trying to improve upon the spells he cast while on your ship.”

Cadman’s jaw dropped open. “That was the Physic Beckett working on Alison?” 

“Yes, it was. Alison is very special to us.”

She must be to have garnered such attention from the Council, including the most powerful Physic on this coast traveling to her side to heal her. Cadman nodded. “I’d like to be notified when she wakes up.”

“Leave the name of your ship with the clerk. Someone will send a message, Captain.”

“Thank you.”

Cadman walked back to the Deadless. She got some odd looks from the few people she passed on the road. Her clothes were hanging off her, three sizes too big now. She’d had to wrap her belt around herself twice to hold her trousers up. She felt like a child again, wearing her father’s coat. Her boots were too big and she clattered up the gangplank noisily.

“Stuck then, are you sir?” Sils asked as she crossed the deck. The other officers had been on the aft deck and they all came over to gather around her. 

“Yeah.” She ran a hand over her hair, which probably looked ridiculous now, short like a man’s. “They said they can’t do anything for me, I’m stuck like this.” She waved a hand up and down her body. 

Sils patted her arm. “Sorry to hear that, sir. You do make a pretty lass though.” Cadman growled at him and Caldwell punched his arm and waggled a finger at his nose. “Sorry, sir.”

“How is Magori Porter?” asked Markham.

“She’s still asleep; they don’t really know much yet.”

The crew were dawdling around, obviously waiting to be dismissed to enjoy the Solstice celebrations. It looked as if they had started the preparations necessary to prepare the Deadless for winter dry dock. “Well, we need to button her down for the winter. Everyone knows what needs done. Once she’s ready, dismiss the crew, Stackhouse. I’m going to be in my quarters, packing. Cadman looked around at them and then stomped and clomped her way to her cabin. 

She sagged down into her chair. What in the hell was she going to do now? There was no way she could command the respect of the crew, not like this. It seemed like The Dread Pirate Cadman might just be no more. 

Getting up, she packed for a little while. She had reserved a room at the inn for the days of the Solstice celebrations. She would go there and try to figure out what her next step should be. There was a tapping at the door and Stackhouse poked his head in then slipped inside, he leaned against the door and stared at her. “I always wondered how you’d look, all grown up.”

“Like my mum, from what I saw in the looking glass over there, it made me nervous, so I stopped looking.” There was a shirt draped over the mirror.

Stackhouse gave her an odd look and then said, “I suppose you could wear a hat, until it grows in.” She threw a book at him. Then she flailed her hands and looked down at her diminished body.

“Hey, hey!” he said as she started to breath heavily and look around in a panic. Stacks crossed the cabin and wrapped his arms around her. For the first time in fifteen years, someone hugged her. It proved to be her complete undoing. She burst into tears and clung to his shirt, crying for everything she lost with the dissolution of the spell.

When she calmed a bit, he tucked her into her bed, pulling the blankets up and rubbing her back until she fell asleep, still hiccupping and sobbing.

Yes, indeed. The Dread Pirate Cadman was no more.

~*~

The Deadless was hauled into dry-dock, her hull needed a good going over and she’d spend the heaviest days of winter ashore, like her crew. By spring, she’d be fresh and ready to go back to roaming the sea.

Cadman wandered down the boardwalk, hands in pockets, wondering if she should stay in Botany Bay for the winter. Perhaps she should stay nearby, in case Alison woke. Cadman visited almost every day, sitting with Alison and reading to her. It had become a habit and a comfort. It gave Cadman something to worry about beside her sudden change of circumstances. 

Most of the crew had scattered, even Caldwell was gone; off to see his old mother and be coddled and fussed at for the season. Cadman was meeting Stackhouse and Markham at the tavern for a farewell dinner before they too headed off to the countryside. 

Nearing the depository, Cadman decided to head in and check on investments. By the time she left, her head was spinning. She’d had a windfall; one of the businesses she had given seed money to had done extremely well, so well that the owners had sold it at a massive profit, making Cadman a very rich person. With the profits from that and the treasure she had on deposit, she was set for life. She didn’t have to go back to sea, ever. She could stop. She could settle.

Distracted, Cadman walked for hours, mulling over her choices. She met her officers at the tavern, her mind still racing with possibilities. Over port she looked at her first mate, her best friend, and another possibility occurred to her. “Hey, Stackhouse?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“You’ve been a really good first mate over the years. I want you to know that.”

Stackhouse tilted his head in confusion. “I’m sensing there’s something else going on here.”

Cadman leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. “When the Deadless goes back out in the spring, I’ve decided that you’re not going to be her first mate.”

Pressing his lips together, Stackhouse looked over at Markham and then back to Cadman. “If that’s the way you want it, Captain.”

“You’ll be Captain. I’m signing over my share to you, Nate, on the condition that you agree to keep Caldwell on.”

“Of course I’ll keep the old coot on. Are you sure about this, Captain?”

She nodded and sipped her port. “Yeah. I don’t need her anymore. I did, for a long time. But I don’t anymore; she did what I needed her to do for me. You take her. You had as much right as me to be her captain. Caldwell could just have easily made you Captain and me first mate.”

“Caldwell always liked you better,” Stackhouse laughed. 

Cadman chuckled and shook her head. “He said he owed it to my da. He always took care of me; I can do no less for him.”

“To Caldwell, for all he’s done for a pair of orphans,” Stackhouse raised his glass in a toast. 

“And to the Deadless, long may she prowl the seas,” Cadman raised her glass and smiled as she bid goodbye to her old life.

~*~

The worst of the Winter Storms came and went, and still Alison slept on. 

Cadman found an inn for sale on the road coming from the south into Botany Bay, and on impulse, she bought it. She spent the winter researching how to run an inn, talking to other innkeepers and reading at the Council library when she visited with Alison. She cleaned and spruced up the rooms, deciding to leave painting until the summer, when she could open all the doors and windows to let air into the place. 

When the snows melted away and the first birds appeared, Cadman heard a knocking at her door. She was surprised to see Caldwell and Cook standing there, rucksacks over their shoulders. 

“Well, this is a surprise. I thought you would be off to sea with the Deadless” she said as she threw the door open wide to let them in.

Cook crossed his burly arms over his middle and frowned. “You need a cook. Where’s the kitchen?”

Cadman pointed over her shoulder and Cook elbowed past her. And just like that, her inn lost her kitchen and gained a staff.

Peering around the sitting room, Caldwell nodded in approval. He wandered from room to room, looking around. He avoided the kitchen, after peeking in the doorway. Cadman walked in as Cook banged around pots and pans and rearranged things to his liking. She saw that Cook had tossed his sea-bag on the bed in the tiny room off the kitchen, appropriating that room. Giving in to the inevitable, she sighed and went to find Caldwell.

The back door was open, she went to stand on the threshold and saw Caldwell fingering the rose vines on the trellis near the back gate. She walked out to stand beside him. “According to the neighbors, these bloom pink and smell very sweet.”

He nodded and pulled his slate and chalk from his pocket. ‘Too old for sea. Not the same anymore.’

“No. Nothing is the same anymore, is it?” 

‘Proud of you. Child I never had.’

That made her sniffle. Being a girl again came with a lot of annoying feminine traits, like getting weepy at old men saying nice things to her. “You always took good care of me, Caldwell.” On impulse, she hugged him. He patted her back awkwardly before she pulled away and looked mildly embarrassed.

’Like a son and daughter rolled into one.’ Caldwell smiled and she laughed.

“So, do you want to stay? It looks like Cook has decided to move in.”

‘Is there room?’

“It’s an inn, of course there’s room. I’ll need someone to keep the books, if you’re up to it?”

He nodded.

“Do you know anything about gardens or roses?”

At that, Caldwell shook his head sadly. ‘My mother keeps roses. We could write to her.’

Cadman slid her arm into the crook of Caldwell’s and walked with him back towards the house. “I’ll write to her tonight.”

When they went inside, Cadman showed him to a room on the first floor that was near the kitchen. He was delighted and started unpacking his duffel. When he came out, he held up the slate. ‘How is the Magori?’

“No change, I walk over there almost every day, but she still sleeps. Beckett doesn’t know if she’ll wake up. He’s very nice, not at all what I expected, given his reputation.”

Grinning, Caldwell nudged her arm. ‘Husband material?’

She swatted at him. “Ew, no. Just friends.”

Caldwell barked out a gruff laugh and Cadman felt the inn grow a little more like home.

~*~

Drifting, Alison heard the voice again and went towards it. She listened to the story the woman read. She looked forward to the times when the woman came, it broke up the monotony. 

Alison suspected that she was stuck in-between. She vaguely remembered the events before the floating time. She remembered being attacked, kidnapped, imprisoned, and starved. Then she had cast several spells. She remembered being on a ship and spending time with the Captain. She remembered being sad that she had to leave the kind Captain Cadman. She had liked him, more than she had liked any man in her entire life. He had held her hand when the healer cast the spell on her, given his own life energy to save her. Alison remembered that.

After that came the loose nothingness, until the woman’s voice called to her, drawing her back time and time again to listen. The readings were on a myriad of topics; gardening, hostelry, bookkeeping, beekeeping, cooking, sewing, brewing, and stories, interspaced between the texts were always stories and poetry. 

The voice kept her grounded, kept her from melting away into the nothing. The woman called her Alison, and spoke to her as if she knew her. 

One day, after a long time, though Alison did not know how long, the woman said that Cook had come to work at the inn. Then she said that Caldwell had come along too. Alison was intrigued, since there had been a Cook and a Caldwell on the ship. She remembered that Cook had fed her broth and talked to her about his homeland, far away. Caldwell she remembered because of his scarred face and wooden peg-leg. How did the woman know the sailors? Did the woman know Captain Cadman too? 

She wanted to ask, she wanted to ask very much. Soon the want became an obsession. Alison could think of nothing else when she heard the woman’s voice. She wanted to ask about her friend Captain Cadman.

Obsession coupled with frustration turned to anger and Alison let out a scream from the depths of her being.

~*~

Cadman tucked the annoying curl back behind her ear. Her hair was growing longer now, and she still grew aggravated with it when it fell into her face. She had no talent at all with the intricate weavings and pinnings that other women did, and so she let it dangle loose. She turned the page, eager to get further into the story she was reading, anticipating the moment when the secrets finally came out and everyone could get on with their living happily ever after.

Without any warning or explanation, Alison sudden screeched and pounded her fists on the mattress. She continued to scream and shriek and toss on the bed.

“Alison?” Cadman tossed the book aside and bent over her, grasping one hand and squeezing it. “Alison, shh, do you hurt? What’s wrong? Shh, I’ll get Physic Beckett.” She smoothed Allie’s long hair away from her face. 

At the sound of her voice, Alison stopped screaming and struggling. She looked at Cadman in confusion and squeezed her hand very tightly. “Do…” she struggled to speak. “Do… you… know… Captain… Cadman?”

Blinking in confusion at the unexpected first words out of Alison’s mouth, Cadman nodded stupidly. “Well, uhm, yeah, I’m Cadman, actually,” she gave a nervous giggle and chewed on her lower lip.

Alison peered at her intently. She looked down at their joined hands and then back up at Cadman’s face. “You are. What happened?”

“When Beckett stripped your spells away, he got mine into the mix as well. He wrecked a perfectly good transformation spell.”

“I heard you. When I was out there in the nothing, I heard you.”

Cadman gave her a lopsided smile. “Well, I’m glad I wasn’t doing all that chattering away for nothing.”

Someone had summoned Beckett and he rushed into the room in a swish of robes. “Finally! I’m glad to see you awake, Porter!”

Another healer came in, and another and Cadman was bustled out of the room. She waited in the hallway. Her book was in there and she wanted to finish the story. 

“Cadman? She’s asking for you, won’t settle down until you come,” one of the bossy healers that had shoved her out of the room came out looking for her. 

When she saw Cadman, Alison smiled and held a hand up. Taking it, Cadman edged close to the bed, nudging aside the other bossy healer. “You giving them trouble?”

“I was afraid you left, that you went back to your ship.”

“Nah. I live down the road a way now at the Old Gate Inn. You’ll have to come a visit me for a change, now that you’re awake again.”

Squeezing Cadman’s hand, Alison smiled and nodded, then yawned. “I’m so sleepy. I shouldn’t be, but I am.”

“Your body wants natural sleep. You should adjust in a few days,” Beckett told her.

“She’s all right now?” Cadman asked.

“It seems so; the dregs of the spell are gone. She appears to remember everything. I think with a little rest, she’ll be back to her old mischievous self again.” Beckett leaned over and pinched the end of Alison’s nose.

Tugging her hand from Alison’s Cadman backed away from the bed and retrieved her book from the floor. “I should go. I’m really glad you’re awake.”

“Come see me tomorrow?”

“Sure, I’ll try, bye.” Cadman fled the room. She had been able to be there when Alison was asleep, but with her awake and her eyes following Cadman, it was too much, she couldn’t be there.

~*~

The bell at the front door chimed. Licking jam from her finger, Cadman skirted around the kitchen worktable where Cook had been teaching her to make tarts and ran out to answer it. 

Tugging the door open, she found herself face to face with Magori Porter. 

“Alison! Hello.”

“You didn’t come yesterday,” the tone was light, but Cadman’s guilt made her hear accusation in the words.

Cadman coughed nervously. “No, sorry. I was putting manure out in the rose beds and got caught up in it and I didn’t want to go to the Council House smelling like a barnyard, so, no…” Cadman trailed off as she saw the disappointment in Alison’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

With a shrug, Alison said, “I understand. So, you live here now?”

“I do. Come in. I’ve only been open a short time, but business has been good so far.”

“Oh, you own the place?” Alison chose a chair near the window and looked around the sitting room. 

Sitting across from her, Cadman smoothed out her skirt and smiled. “I do.”

“You gave up the sea?”

Waving up and down her body, Cadman said, “I sort of had to. My secret got out.”

“Because of me.” Alison reached over and clasped her hand.

“No, no. I was living a lie. It was time, really. I always wanted to do this, stay in one place, plant a garden, bake things…”she felt her lower lip start to tremble and cursed her femininity for making her so overly emotional.

Alison squeezed her hand and scooted off the chair, kneeling in front of Cadman and resting her hands on Cadman’s knees. “You did not. I came along and ruined everything for you. I am so sorry, Captain Cadman.” 

When Cadman looked at her, Alison had tears in her eyes and looked completely miserable. Maybe she had been the trigger, but Cadman had been pretending to be something she wasn’t, it was only a matter of time before her secret got out. She stroked a hand across Allie’s forehead, pushing her hair back. “Hey, stop. No. I don’t blame you, really. Fate stepped in and gave me a push back to reality.” 

Her hand had slipped down and she was cupping Alison’s cheek. She wiped a thumb over a tear that slipped down Alison’s cheek. Their eyes met and they stared for quite a while, and when Cadman leaned down just as Alison rose up, it seemed perfectly natural for their lips to meet. Alison whimpered and reached up to hold Cadman’s head, deepening the kiss. 

Cadman pulled back. “Well, uh. That was… unexpected.”

“Should I apologize?”

“I don’t think so.” Cadman touched her fingers to her lips and stared at Alison.

Alison smiled. “I’m actually rather glad you’re not a man. I like you better this way.”

“You are? You do?”

“Uh huh. Do you have a first name?” Alison picked up Cadman’s hand and intertwined their fingers. 

“Laura.”

Another smile, then Alison leaned in and kissed her again. “Hello Laura. I’m Allie.” 

The End