The girl looked at them with uncertainty. “Do you really want me to tell them that?”

Cira quickly backpedaled, “No, you can forget it. I’d hate to cause you any trouble.”

“Quite considerate for a pirate, aren’t you?” She raised an eyebrow at her, “No one will touch me here. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I see…” Her benefactors from the far table were just the type she was looking for. Bandanas and torn vests. Dirty stubble marred their faces, and one man even had a peg leg. “Then please relay my message.”

Cira held up her drink as the real barmaid walked away, “Cheers!”

Grabbing hers as well, Delilah held it up, “What are we toasting?”

“Saving Fount Salt, I suppose. Are you with me?” She was too earnest. Delilah had toiled her whole life learning how to make medicine, so how could she turn her down? If nothing else, this was what she did it all for. Who knew what the future held. If she helped lift Uru’s hopeless night, could she know what it felt to smile like her mother did? If not, well maybe she could leave this island and spread her wings.

Delilah started to feel giddy inside. Despite her attempts to seduce a brick wall, her life didn’t feel so bleak anymore. There was something to look forward to, a cold drink before her, and something nice to look at. She chuckled and clinked it against Cira’s, “Alright, I’m in! What do I have to do?”

The scurvy sorcerer took a gulp, “The materials should be here in a few hours. For now, we drink!”

And the two made short work of their first round. The ale was bitter and bland all at the same time. The watery beverage slid down Cira’s throat like a contaminated spring and the pungent aftertaste made her nostrils flare up with each exhale.

This was what Cirina Dreadheart lived for.

“Do you drink often?” Delilah asked with a playful grin, “You sure know how to.”

“First time,” she chucked, taking the last sip, and spilling some down her corset, “I thought it was a fine occasion.”

“So, I know what’s brought you to me now, but why are we here?” She looked around at the rugged men spilling their drinks and having merry laughter. The fiddler they heard from down the street had started up again complimented by an old one-eyed man on the flute. They sang of salt and treasure. Some of the grimy patrons swung their mugs around to the tune or sang along belligerently.

“Isn’t this place great?” Delilah didn’t understand the twinkle in her eye, but the witch’s words were impassioned if a little slurred, “I mean, I’m sure they’re all bad guys, but look at how lively it is here. It’s like we’re on another island. A seedy den of criminals. Just what I wanted. I’ve never heard music like this either and I feel like we’re the only ones that don’t know the words. That man’s dancing with just one leg! How do you think he lost it?”

The girls squinted at him, and Delilah gave her best shot at solving the mystery, “It must have been blown clean off by cannon fire, no?”

“I’m not so sure. That’s way too clean a shot.” Cira brought a hand to her chin, “I bet it was eaten by a nimbus shark.”

The girls laughed as they kept trying and Cira grabbed for her empty glass with a frown. She was thinking of all it would take to conjure ale when Deliliah nudged her arm, “Um, Cir…ina?” Robes of Inebriation? The Ale Bearer’s raiment? Eh, I’ll think of it later. Like all great sorceries, it starts with a problem that needs solved and a new set of robes.

“What is it, Delilah?” She liked the way that name rolled off the tongue, like a rare flower. “Delilah… Dee-lie-luh.”

“Wait, what?” The girl looked uneasy, “Look over there.”

The peg legged man had been one of her benefactors, and she just realized the two of them were scrutinizing him rather intently for a few minutes while the rest of his table was eyeing them. “Looks like they aren’t too upset… And what do you know? Right on time. My, how long has it been, little miss?”

Cira gave the approaching girl a dumb grin and received a suspicious squint in return, “Maybe ten minutes? They got another message for you.” She clacked down two fresh mugs and swiped the empties with a look of irritation on her face, “with this much, they’re gonna need a little change back.”

“Well, aren’t they bold?” Cira squinted her eyes at them. One still danced, but there were three still seated. They looked back at her appraisingly, as much as they could with their unsteady, leering gazes from afar. It was clear they’d been here drinking for some time. When do they start in the city where it’s always night? “You tell them it takes more than a pittance to plunder Cirina Dreadheart of Leviathin Isle’s treasure.” She put a protective hand on her pouch full of treasure. Surely this is what they’re after.

The girl scoffed, “I’m not your messen—”

“And that any fool who thinks two sips can quench my thirst isn’t worth the salt beneath my boots.” She noted for once there was wood beneath them. It was cozy. The girl let out a groan and rolled her eyes, turning around. Cira then turned to her drinking buddy and snorted, “pirates are so funny. Do they really use young girls to send messages across the room?”

Delilah had a hand clamped to her mouth, stifling a laugh with tears in her eyes, for she was the only one who noticed the bar maiden wince and briefly stop in her tracks. “No, Cira. I’m pretty sure they don’t. They just tried to send beer.”

She gleefully had some more, “Who knew it could be so fun to drink such a terrible—er, I mean, this swill doesn’t taste half bad once you start drinking it. I keep forgetting to ask for food though…” She stared wistfully at the barmaid from afar. It looked like she was busy relaying the message. This time they looked a little offended and cast her a heated look.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Cira drank half her glass and leaned back with slurred laughter, dragging her eyes toward Delilah, “Looks like…hic…we gotta catch.”

She was alarmed, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Cira’s eyes were half-closed and she wore a sly grin, “They’re gonna lead me to the treasure.”

She was giggling to herself and sipping down ale like a cat with warm milk. Red faced and absolutely worry free. Delilah thought that she looked awfully young, carelessly swaying around in her seat with a childish grin plastered on her face like that. It started to concern her, “Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much if it’s your first time… How old are you anyway?”

“Pshhh,” Cira polished off her second glass. “I am a sorcerer. I am restricted not by age but by wisdom…hic…I mean pirate.” She looked around hurriedly and not at all subtly to see if anyone heard her slipup. Breathing a sigh of relief, she straightened up in her seat.

Delilah chuckled nervously and had a small sip of her own, “I just mean, maybe it isn’t wise to drink too much. You have important business to take care of, right?”

“Aye.” Cira winked, “That I do.”

She turned to see three angry pirates walking towards them. Delilah followed her gaze and gulped. “You have a plan…?”

“Aye,” she winked again, “That I do.”

“Hey!” The man standing in front looked like their leader. He had a blade on one side and a cheap pistol on the other, both strapped to his belt. Nothing but a torn vest on his chest and a leather hat on his head. Cira thought of all the brutes in this establishment, he didn’t look so filthy. His muscles were on display and he had a strong jawline with a well-kempt mustache. “Who the hell do you think you are?!”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Cira stood up which caused the baffled men to step back. She put her leg up on a chair and pulled out her curved saber to point at some non-existent destination, “I am Cirina Dreadheart of Leviathan Isle, bearer of the cursed blade Tide Quencher!”

The three saw nothing, but they heard the shing! and felt a ripple of wind. When it brushed past their face, they instinctively stumbled back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” The little bar maiden’s blonde hair danced angrily as she stomped up, “No weapons inside!”

With a dignified expression, Cira sheathed the weapon and returned to her seat, “My mistake. While I have you here, could I order some food? Anything will do and two of them. These gentlemen will pay.”

The girl pursed her lips and nodded before walking away.

One man had regained his wherewithal, “Are you really from Leviathin Isle? In the Dread Skies?”

“The one and only.” She gave them an exaggerated smile. Not often did her lies work out so well.

“As if we’ll believe that,” The first man gave her a skeptical look, “I’ve known men from Leviathin Isle. A little girl like you could never escape alive.”

“You’ve never met a girl like me, I say.” She winked, “Gandeux’s not ready for me.”

“Is that right? You?” He looked her up and down, spending more time on one spot than any other, “I bet you stole that sword and cozied up to some captain to make it here. You couldn’t touch the prima if you tried.”

Cira pulled a fine crystalline powder from her pocket and held it in her palm before blowing it at the three men’s faces, “Straight from the queen’s nest.”

“Pah!” They spat dust from their mouths, waving the cloud away.

“What are you doing?!”

“Damn wench—”

“Hey!” The girl came storming up again, “No prima inside!” She was livid, “One more and you’re out of here. I mean it!”

The girl got frustrated and left when all she could get out of Cira was a silly grin. It was just too endearing to see the young girl working so hard.

“Hey, you better hope her mom don’t come out.” The third man wore a striped shirt with stains and his voice was higher than she expected.

“Should have asked for another…” She stared at her glass wistfully.

Cira’s father didn’t drink often, but it happened from time to time. He said it was only good in moderation and she wasn’t allowed to have any until she grew up. I have my own forbidden archive now. Of course, I can drink!

“There’s no way you were in the queen’s nest, they got it under tight guard. I heard they got two witches down here right now.” The leader loudly scooted a seat over and sat in it. His friends followed suit.

“Tch.” Cira looked at them like they were stupid, “We ate witches for breakfast back on Leviathan Isle.”

The man in the middle with no shirt at all spoke up, “I don’t know, that sounds pretty far-fetched.”

But his captain wasn’t done, “Hold on… If all that’s true, how’d you get down there?”

“I simply went down. Can’t tell you more than that for free. My thirst isn’t even quenched, yet you want more… How about this?” She wiggled a finger around in her coat until she felt something grab on. When she pulled it out there was a salt nymph attached. She sat her down on the table. “This is Nina.”

Of course, Nina had a little cutlass at her waist and a fresh new hat to match Cira’s. Evidently, she wasn’t too fond of how she could still see through the middle when she pulled the brim down. She receded to Cira’s shoulder and spread strands of her hair to peer at them suspiciously.

“No way, she’s smugglin’ nymphs!”

“How does she do it? Does she control the nymphs?!” Shirtless had left his jaw behind as well.

Even the captain couldn’t deny this feat, but he was hesitant to speak, grumbling, “Okay… I don’t know about the queen’s nest, but maybe you aren’t all talk.”

Their steadfast waitress returned again with platters of food, “Two worm calamari comin’ through—” Her eyes froze as she entered a staring contest with Nina. She set the plates down and sighed, rolling her eyes toward Cira. When she was about to open her mouth, the leader unwittingly cut her off.

“Can we get another round over here, Peaches?”

The girl groaned, “Comin’ right up…” she turned to walk away when Cira stopped her.

“Just a moment! Is your name really Peaches?!” The girl reluctantly nodded with a stiff expression while Cira melted into a bright smile, “My, that’s just too adorable!”

Peaches looked truly pained as she immediately turned away. Cira’s mood didn’t change as her gaze shifted to the worm calamari. “What is this, baby worms all fried up?” It was a bowl full of spindly little fried treats. She took a bite, and the crunchy texture sent a shiver up her spine. The sweet and savory worm was such a rich flavor that melted in her mouth. Without even noticing, she had devolved into a state of drunkenly laughing to herself, shoveling in mouthfuls of calamari at a time.

“Actually, they slice it up like a potato…” Delilah’s words seemed lost on her, and she didn’t know what to do. She awkwardly ate a couple from her own plate. It was a common and cheap dish that you could get anywhere in Uru.

“Your friend’s an odd one, you know that?” Delilah’s blood froze. Cira had confidently spoken with the men and somewhat disarmed them—the way she carried herself made her feel safe. Looking at Cira now, she would be out of commission at least until she was done eating, and the impending third round was troubling. Delilah hadn’t even finished her second. Now that one of the men had turned his attention to her, she felt completely helpless. “What’s your story, Missy?”

“Mreh!” Cira said something with her mouth full, drawing their attention. She made them wait while she finished the bite before continuing, “Better not get any ideas, boys. She’s with me.” She casually put a hand on the pommel of her blade.

“Whoa there, no need to get violent,” The leader said, “Just trying to make conversation. Name’s Tawny. Captain James Tawny.”

He offered a hand and Cira almost frowned before remembering that pirates were always dirty. I must shake his hand as if I am even dirtier!

She took his hand with a bear grip and yanked his arm around, “As you well know I am Cirina Dreadheart of Leviathan Isle, and this is my smuggling sidekick, Lorelai… Jones.”