Dio

Night. My grip tightens on the handle of my canvas bag. The flames of the streetlamps glow in their glass cages. It is late, and the cobbled streets are empty. In the distance, I can hear the night watchman's footsteps clattering across the stones; the glow of his torch flickers across the walls of dormant houses. Somewhere far away, a raven caws. How typical a setting for this sort of thing.

I feel odd in my shirt and trousers. Dressing up as boys is more of something that Dio likes to do. I only usually do it to go along with her ideas and plans. Since she left, there has not been much cause to do something rash like that. But for this venture, I decided to dress myself the way Dio had. I had cropped my copper curls short and stolen a wardrobe of clothes from my cousin: several shirts and pairs of trousers, a couple of cheap cotton vests, and a pair of leather boots to complete the ensemble. My clothes make me passable as a young lad, but my face is a still a woman's.

Dio is the reason why I leave now, in the silence of night, when the whole of my father's household is asleep. Ever since she left seven months ago, it has been lonesome and quiet. Her ship docks in nearby Charlottebrooke tomorrow morning, and I want to see her again. They will only be there for half a day, so I know she will not be coming down to see us, but that does not mean I cannot go up to see her.

I miss Dio.

I swing my bag over my shoulders and try to muster some self-confidence to better complete the image of a man.

---

My hand was lost in my father's. It was raining, and his black umbrella was held too high up to shield me as much as I would like it to. My white socks were soaked and brown with mud, and so were my petticoats under my dress. The air smelt of earth. The patter of raindrops served as background to the sound of hooves and feet hitting the cobblestones.

Suddenly an acquaintance of his came up to us. My father released me to shake hands with the man. "Is this your daughter?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Father. He lifted me up and kissed me on the cheek. I tried to squirm away; his beard was scratchy against face. The acquaintance laughs.

I sat in my father's arms for the rest of the conversation. Eventually, the two men said goodbye and parted. My father continued walking, holding me with one arm and the umbrella with the other.

We arrived home to find the household disquieted about something. The housekeeper came up to us, distressed. "A young lass around the little mistress's age has been left by the kitchen door." She spoke quickly, nervously, and without preamble. "The kitchen maid nearly tripped over her. We tried asking her who her mother was, but she wouldn't say. All she would tell us was that no one wanted her anymore, the poor thing. We thought of taking her to the orphanage, but we thought it best to wait until you returned. We gave her some potatoes to eat; the poor thing's skinny as a stick and we didn't think you'd mind. She's waiting in the kitchen right now, if you'd like to see her. Or if you're busy, I think we should at least get some more food in her, or dress her in some proper clothes. Heaven knows, this girl could use some more clothes, and a bath. Yes, she could use a good scrubbing. Ooh, it makes me so sad to see a child left in such a state, and —"

Father put up his hand to stop the housekeeper's ramblings. "Feed her, bathe her, and find some of Raelyzle's clothes for her. When she's ready, send her to my study. I think Raelyzle should have someone her own age serving her. They can play together and take classes together, and when they are older, she can be a maidservant to Raelyzle. For now, you are to treat her like your own child. All children should be mothered and cared for."

"We'll be friends!" I exclaimed, before my father had even finished his last sentence, "We'll be like sisters!" I clapped my tiny hands in delight. "Give her my yellow dress," I told the housekeeper, "The one with the matching hair ribbon. Sisters share their prettiest dresses."

That made the housekeeper laugh. "Alright, little mistress," she said to me, "You can go down and say hello right now, if you want." Father put me down, and eagerly I ran for kitchen.

I saw her as soon as I stepped over the threshold. She was sitting at the wooden table in the middle of her kitchen, with her back turned to me. As soon as I saw her, I knew I had been wrong to tell the housekeeper to giver her my yellow dress with the ribbon. Her hair was mousy brown, scraggly, and short. The ribbon would certainly not be able to tie her hair up. I was scared that the ribbon would make her sad that she did not have copper ringlets like my own.

She turned around, and I saw that her face was grubby and tear-streaked. But I could see that underneath the dirt, she was somewhat pretty. Shyness suddenly over came me, and I could not think of anything to say. Finally, I asked, "What's your name?"

"Dio," she replied.

---

A little way away from the outskirts of the town, there is a small farm owned by an old man and his grandson. Dio and I used to come here often as children and ride the horses. The grandson used to come along with us until we girls became too old for it to be proper to frolic with horses and boys.

It has been a long time. Uncertain whether the grandson will recognize me, I wander onto the dirt path that winds around the farmhouse and rap my fingers three times on the aged wooden door. That was our secret knock when we were small; I wonder if he still remembers it.

He does, and flings the door open, and wide grin stretching across his freckled face. He has changed, yet his face is much the same. Wide eyes, small nose, and unhandsome chin; his overall appearance is foolish. He smells of sweat and horse, but that only adds to the familiarity. Looking me up and down, he speaks. "Dio was better," he tells me, "You still look like a girl." His voice is different, no longer boyish.

I smile. Years of training to act ladylike has drilled habits into me that are hard to break. "I try my best," I reply.

He slips out and gently shuts the door behind him. He knows why I came; he has a way of knowing what I want before I even say it. It can be unnerving at times. He leads me in silence along the path to the stables. Now and again, his hand flies up to mess his auburn hair. He did the same thing when we were children; his nervous habits have remained unchanged.

Even in the dim moonlight, it is easy to tell that the stable is the same. The smell of manure is as strong as ever. But the horses are different. I don't know any of them. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it came as a shock to realize that so much time had passed that all the horses have changed. He saddles for me a chestnut horse with a white tuft on the forehead. "Young mare," he tells me, just as I was about to ask, "Fast, but gentle. I doubt your ladyship has done much rough riding recently, so I thought she'd be good."

"Stop acting like I'm nobility," I chide jokingly, "You could be hanged for treason."

He answers by picking out a bridle and looping it over the horse's head. His back is turned to me, but I can see his smile in the polished bronze nameplate hanging on the wall of the stall.

"Thank you," I tell him, as he's adjusting the straps, "Shall I send someone to take her back when I'm done?"

"No need," he replies, "I'm coming with you." So saying, he picks up another saddle.

I don't argue. It will be good to have someone with me, especially him. We have seen each other in years, but it felt as if I had seen him just yesterday. There is no awkwardness between us, and conversation with a close friend is always welcome on the road. Besides, even if I do not want him to come along, it would be difficult talking him out of a decision he had already made.

I watch him as he busied himself with preparing the horses for riding. He is a sweet and homely boy. I can imagine him marrying a kind and gentle girl, who cooks hot meals for him when he returns from a hard day's work. It was a nice thought, to think that he will be happy.

We lead our horses out of the stables, and he helps me mount. We guide our horses onto the forested path that joins the road to Charlottebrooke, and we begin our ride. I take the lead, and he follows. I can feel his eyes on my back. I smile. It has been such a long time. If only Dio is here as well.

---

I dove into bed, burying myself in my blankets.

"Show me, Raelyzle! It can't be that bad." Dio jumped onto the bed beside me, and tried to pry away the blankets.

"Stop it! Yes it is! Stop looking at me! Go away!" My voice was muffled.

"I'm sorry, okay? I really am. I didn't mean to."

"Yes you did! You're a bad bad girl and I never want to see you again!"

"Oh, come on, Rae. You don't mean that."

I sat up and yanked the blankets from my face. "Yes I do mean that!"

She grabbed the blankets before I could pull them back over my head. "It really isn't that bad, Rae. Really. If I didn't know where to look, I wouldn't even have seen it."

"That's because you're blind. I'm bald now, thanks to you."

"No you're not. I only cut this much. One curl, I only cut off one curl. I'm really sorry, I just wanted to make you look more like a boy. It'll grow out."

"No it won't. I'll be stuck like this forever and I'll grow up ugly." I gave the blanket one last good yank, but when it failed to move, I gave up and flopped down only my back. "Daddy's going to hate you forever." The anger had left my voice, and there was no force behind my words. I couldn't stay mad at Dio.

"Don't say that, Rae. I'm really sorry." She laid down beside me. "But it'll grow out. It's just hair. I'm really sorry I cut it."

"Daddy's going to hate you," I said again, even though I knew he wouldn't care. "But I forgive you."

---

Someone shakes me awake. Wearily, I open my eyes to see the face of the farmer's grandson peering at me. He sits behind me on my horse, his own steed obediently following behind us.

"You fell asleep," he tells me, "I was afraid you'd fall off, but I didn't want to wake you."

"Why wake me now?" I ask, yawning.

He smiles. "We're almost there," he replies, "It wouldn't be decent for a merchant's daughter to be seen sleeping against a stable boy."

"But I'm dressed like a man now."

He slides off the horse and gets back on his own. "That would be worse. If you were a man, I'd have made you stay awake."

"Ah. So you were trying to be a gentleman. You should have waked me."

"You looked so peaceful. And you deserve to rest." He squints through the thinning trees at the houses on the edge of town. "We're almost there," he says again, "I'll go with you to the docks. I can't wait for Dio's ship with you, though. I have to go back right away."

I choose not to answer. "Let's stop here for awhile, before we get to town."

He does not ask me why; he hardly ever does. He simply slides off his horse and helps me to dismount. I stumble to a tree and sit down beneath it. Day has started to break. All around, birds are beginning their morning chorus. A small breeze picks up and blows at my hair. I have never worn it short before. It feels oddly light. The wind across my bare neck makes me feel exposed.

He takes out a small sack from his horse's saddlebags. He places it before me and opens it. Inside are slices of bread and carrots. He feeds the carrots to the horses while I eat a piece of bread. I was stuck by his thoughtfulness. He correctly guessed that I had forgotten to bring breakfast, and thought to bring some. I sigh. He has such a gentle heart. I know he will lead a good life.

Finished feeding the horses, he comes and sits down beside me. He reaches over and takes a slice of bread. We eat is silence, staring at the awakening forest around us. There is a vague smell of flowers.

We finish eating, but neither of us moves. It is so peaceful, sitting there. I feel his gaze on me, so I turn to face him. He does not turn away. We stare at each other, examining each other's faces, remarking how they have changed, examining every detail. His hand slowly reaches out, and grabs hold of my shoulder, as if to keep me there. I try not to flinch, but it is hard, with his proximity. I can guess what he is about to do, what he is thinking, how he feels. I have known for a very long time. But I do not want to give him my answer, not until the last possible moment. He leans in, just a little, just close enough for me to feel his breath. Still I wait; breaking a dear friend can be very hard to do, but my heart is elsewhere.

The moment never comes. The horses stomp their hooves impatiently, reminding us of our errand. I rise, all too happy to be relieved of the uncomfortable position. We mount in silence, and set our horses at a steady trot, leaving the serenity of the woods and entering the bustle of the port town. In silence we meander through the crowds, navigating through the streets to arrive at the docks. Dio's ship has not yet come. I dismount and walk away to where a gathering crowd awaits the return of a ship. He understands, and simply takes the reigns and leaves. He knows that I might be leaving with Dio, that goodbyes are difficult, and that whatever happened in the woods had left awkwardness between us. I know that he regrets his actions.

---

I pouted, though Dio had her back to me and couldn't see. "Dio, I don't want to go."

Dio persisted, tugging on my hand. "C'mon Rae, it'll be fun."

I stayed stubbornly still, refusing to move though Dio was much stronger than me. "We'll get in trouble."

"No we won't. Everyone's asleep."

"And so should we."

"Oh, c'mon, Rae. It'll be really fun, honest."

"But– "

"Mark's waiting for us. You don't want him to stay up all night, do you?"

"No, but we'll get in trouble."

Dio's only reply was to drag me to the window and leap out. Our room was on the first floor, and she landed softly on the grass outside. "C'mon," she beckoned, her voice lowered to a whisper, "If you're not going, I'm going myself."

The prospect of spending the night alone scared me. I needed the presence of Dio in bed beside me, her warmth and the steady rhythm of breathing making me feel safe and at ease. I quickly clambered over the window ledge and rolled onto the soft grass with a small "Oof." Dio pulled me up and picked a leaf from my hair. I shivered.

"You're coming then?"

"Yeah," I nodded. Anything to stay with Dio.

She pulled me along the empty street, our footsteps echoing as our shadows ran. Her hand was cold against mine.

---

Waves slap at the shore, spraying salty mist into the crowd. Seagulls caw and circle overhead, in search of food. The docks themselves are busy the way docks usually are, full of the bustle of cargo being carried in and out, the rowdy calls of sailors, and shopkeepers peddling their wares. There are ships being repaired, cannons being cleaned, barrels of provisions being refilled. So full of life. I wonder what it must feel like to the lonely sailors after months of being out in the lifeless sea.

A ship comes, but it is not Dio's ship. Most of the crowd leaves to search for their friends and family aboard that ship. The Marietta-Joanne, it is called. I hope Dio's ship has a better name.

An hour goes by, then two. Finally, Dio's ship comes. The scraggly remains of the crowd gather together and walk forward toward where the ship disembarks. This ship, with the ambiguous name of The Farsight, is much smaller than the Marietta-Joanne, and humbled in her shadow. I believe that Dio once mentioned in a letter that it is a brig. Only about a dozen people man it. Dio is one of them. She stands on the deck, looking out into the crowd, wearing a wine-colored coat that reaches her knees. She sees me standing there, waiting for her, and is the first to run down onto land. She greets me by enveloping me in a hug.

"You came!" she exclaims when she finally releases me. "I can't believe you came! Did Mark lend you a horse? Did he come with you? Is he here?"

"Yes, he lent me the horse. Yes, he came. No, he's not here; he had to leave." I try to reply to all of Dio's questions, but they come too fast. Her face has not changed much. Her eyes, her cheeks, her ears, her lips, they are all as I remember.

"You cut your hair! But why? It was so pretty. Why are you dressed as a man? You could have come here as a woman, Mark could've stayed with you."

"Because I want to join your crew. Will you talk to your captain for me?"

She freezes, a comical half-smile left on her face. "You want to what?"

I shift my feet nervously, afraid she will say no. "I want to go sailing with you. I miss you."

She lowers her voice so that passerby would not overhear. "But you're a merchant's daughter," she hissed, "You can't just go and be a pirate! It'll be against the laws of nature! Besides, the captain doesn't like taking women. He already made an exception with me, and I doubt he'll do it again."

"Talk to him. I'm sure he'll understand. I will not go back, Dio. Everything is different without you. And you're almost a daughter in my father's eyes, so you shouldn't be engaged in piracy either."

"I don't think you're ready. It's rather rough, this life. Have you seriously thought about it."

"I'm sure, Dio. Anything's better than living alone."

Dio shakes her head, but pretends to think. "Alright," she says, "I'll ask the captain, but I'm not promising anything." She tries to be upset, but I know she wants me to come and be by her side; her smile betrays her.

"Thank you, Dio," I say.

"Don't tell Mr. Lutheburt," she warns me, "He probably hates me enough for leaving, never mind luring away his daughter."

"Father doesn't hate you. He just misses you, they all do."

"And they'll miss you a lot more than they miss me. And they'll hate me for luring away their dear sweet Raelyzle."

"You didn't lure me away. I wanted to come."

"But only because of me."

There is no reply for that. Because what she said is true. The only reason I decided to try and join the pirates was because Dio is there. In the months that passed, I realized how much I needed her. I have grown so used to her being omnipresent in my life that I have taken her for granted.

---

The wind howled outside. The night sky was alarmingly bright as the snow reflected moonlight and lamplight. I pulled the covers tighter around myself and tried to sleep. It was to no avail. The bed was large and strangely empty without Dio on the other side. She had caught the flu, and the housekeeper had made her spend the night in the kitchen so that I would not catch it. As much as we complained, nobody listened. They meant well of course, but I did not sleep that night. All I could do was to lie there awake, staring at the empty place where Dio ought to be.

Once during the night, father had come in. "You should be asleep, Raelyzle," he said, when he saw that my eyes were open.

"I can't," I replied.

"Are you not feeling well?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Then try and get some sleep. Being awake all night isn't good for you." He left, and closed the door behind him.

I rolled over and shut my eyes tightly, trying to obey. But sleep refused to come without Dio's soft breathing by my ear.

---

I turn around to see Dio tapping my shoulder. "Captain says yes," she tells me.

"Okay," I reply, turning around again to look over the wooden railing of the ship at bustle of the docks.

"Changed your mind?" she asks, coming to stand beside me.

"No. I'm just taking a last look at land. We'll be departing soon, won't we?"

She nods. "Yeah." She leans down and picks up my bag. "I'll get you settled in, shall I? We have a small corner to ourselves, away from the men." I follow her as she walks. She lifts open the hatch to the hull and climbs down the ladder with the agility of a monkey. I follow, less nimbly.

The tiny corner reserved for the two females of the crew holds two hammocks and a wooden crate. A handful of hooks hang on the wood wall in a crooked row. A piece of an old sail hanging on a rope shields the corner from the main part of the sleeping quarters. Like everywhere else, it smells of brine. The odor of tobacco is there as well, settled comfortably and permanently in the atmosphere of the confined and damp space. I spot a singed dot on the floor, and suspect a dropped cigar. I hastily glance around to be sure that a jug of water is within easy reach. As if that would be much help if the ship goes down in flames.

Dio puts my bag in the crate alongside hers and sits on a hammock. I sit on the other one. "Get some sleep," she tells me, "Captain'll probably put you on lookout tonight, since it's an easy job."

I nod and lay down, suddenly realizing how fatigued I am. "Thanks Dio," I whisper, "Everything will be well now that I have found you." I smile at her as I lay on my side, trying to relax despite the swaying hammock.

Dio stands up to sit down beside me. She strokes my hair as my eyes slowly shut. I shiver at the touch of her cold fingertips. "Go to sleep," she whispers, "Go to sleep, milady."

"Don't call me that," I mumble, "You're not my handmaiden."

"Your father thinks otherwise," replies Dio.

"I don't care. You're my friend. Nothing less."

---

Dio woke me bright and early. Dawn light had barely begun filtering through the thick curtains. The songbirds were making a racket.

"Happy birthday, Raelyzle!" yelled Dio at the top of her lungs, flinging our blankets off the bed. When I refused to move, she took my hand and dragged me off the bed. Instead of racing me to the washbasin, she let me wash up first. I was confused by her oddly agitated mood. She was in some sort of a hurry, throwing her nightgown onto the floor and pulling her clothes on haphazardly, then tapping her foot impatiently as I finished dressing as well. As soon as my shoes were on my feet, she dragged me out the door and slid down the banisters. I chose to use the stairs.

We sat at the kitchen table to eat our breakfast. Once again, Dio was in a hurry. She wolfed down her bacon and scoffed down her eggs, washing it all down with milk before I had even take my first bite. Once again, she tapped her feet impatiently as I proceeded to eat at my normal speed.

Finally, I was done. Dio looked as though she would burst. "Well?" I asked, "What is it?"

Dio only smiled cryptically. "You'll see," she told me, spinning around on the balls of her feet.

Now it was my turn to be impatient. "What is it?" I asked, "Come on, tell me. It's my birthday, you have to do what I say."

Dio just shrugged and bounced out of the room, head held high and a grin on her face.

I ran after her. "Oh, Dio, you can't do this. I want to know, what is it? Really, I want to–"

I had crossed the doorway of the kitchen, turned, and stopped. Dio had spun around to face me, standing a little way in front of a line of people of forming an arc. There, in the main hall, stood every single servant working in Father's household.

Dio was spokeswoman. "Happy birthday, Miss Raelyzle," she said, smiling, "It's your tenth birthday, and so a rather special occasion. We thought we should do something, make some sort of gesture. So each of us gave some money, and we got you a birthday present." The cook handed her a small, long, and neatly wrapped package. Dio handed it to me. Gingerly, I took it. Everyone watched as I pulled open the ribbon and carefully removed the paper. Then, slowly, I opened the emerald colored box to reveal a beautiful gold locket on a chain. It glinted in the morning sun.

Dio couldn't take it anymore. She ran up to me and grabbed the locket, fastening it around my neck before I could say another word. It must have been so hard on her to keep this quiet and not say anything. I looked down at the golden oval and smiled. It was so pretty. I did not know much about the financial well-being of the servants, but I knew that it could not have been easy to buy the locket. I hugged each of them in turn, thanking them. I felt so grateful towards them all, that I thought my heart my burst. It was beautiful. The whole thing was beautiful. Not just the present, but the way they presented it, and the people it was from. The gold was far from pure, but the thought of them buying for me a piece jewelry when they themselves would never get to wear anything like it, I felt loved.

---

"Wake up, Rae."

I open my eyes and try to turn to face Dio, but fall off my hammock instead.

"C'mon, Rae." She reaches over to pull me up. "I was right. Captain says you're on lookout. I'll keep you company if you want."

"Sure," I reply groggily, taking her hand and getting up. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Lookout. I'll show you."

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I follow her up the ladder to the deck. The sky is a cloudless navy specked with stars. The ship lurches as a large wave rolls under, and I struggle to keep my balance. The salt-laden air stings my face as it whips by. I shiver; it is somewhat cold up here.

"How far out are we?" I ask.

"A good way away." We were sitting down near the edge of the ship. The wind was in our favor. I think we might've done fifteen or maybe twenty knots an hour. At this rate, we might reach the Caribbean in just three days."

Dio sounds oddly agitated, and excited. I found myself rather eager too. I have never seen the Spanish colonies, but stories I heard from my father's sailors made the islands seem like a tropical heaven. "Sweet fruits you have never seen, Raelyzle, and you can't imagine how sweet they are. All year round, the sun gleams off the bare backs of the slaves, but you just sit in the shade of the verandah looking over them all. And you'd be eating those sweet fruits the whole time." In the darkness of the nighttime ocean, enveloped in the sounds of water, with the waves rolling the ship, it is so easy to believe in paradise. Maybe Dio and I can stay there, together forever. I know that the notion is ridiculous, but I cannot help but entertain it all the same.

We stand on the port side of the bow, looking out into the distance, lost in happy silence. It has always been like that with Dio. Nothing needs to be said. Not a word needs to pass between us, and yet I can sense how she is feeling. Alone with Dio, we stand together, watching the black sea around us. Flashes of distant lightning illuminate the skies.

Dio leans in to whisper in my ear; sounds carry far over open water. Her breath tickles my skin. "They're planning a mutiny," she warns me, "It might get rough."

I try not to look alarmed. Mutiny is not something I expected. But now that I think about it, I find myself unsure of what I expected. A carefree trip with Dio? That was the only part I bothered to think about. Even just the regular course of piracy is dangerous and violent. Fights, battles, plundering. And what happens when a pirate is caught? Are they hung? I shudder at the thought of Dio and I hanging limp and dead by a rope around our necks. Dio is watching me closely, and I struggle to make my face less transparent.

"Why now?" I ask, as quietly as I can without my voice cracking. "We can't be more than ten hours into our voyage."

"I told you we were making good time." Dio's face is grim, her tone dark. She says no more, and stares intently at a knot in the wood. I glance nervously at the hatch. Down below sleep all the pirates who planned to kill their captain.

Pirates. Murderous, bloodthirsty pirates. I cannot remember why I thought coming out here was a good idea. I shudder again, this time making no effort to hide it from Dio.

The door to the captain's cabin opens, and the man himself steps out. He sees us, and smiles. He does not seem unkind. "Fine night, eh, girls?"

I try to answer, but no words form. This man is about to die.

Dio, however, seems unfazed. "Indeed, sir," she replies. "Rae and I were just about to go up to the poop deck and take a look."

He nods. "I'm just headed there myself. I want to see if we can navigate around this storm. It looks rather nasty. Would you care to go together?" He acts as if we were in a busy street in Philadelphia rather than a tiny ship in the ocean.

Dio smiles. "I don't see why not." I try to argue; this man is about to die, and that is certainly reason enough.

We walk after the captain to the stern of the boat. His demeanor is odd, but friendly, and he is a nice enough man to allow women in his crew. The pay he offers is not low. But for all that, his crew despises him and wishes him dead. The world of piracy is cruel.

Lightning flashes, and this time there is thunder as well. The storm is drawing nearer, or perhaps our ship is sailing towards it. The captain frowns, and launches himself into a discussion with the navigator.

Dio turns around to face me. "It's almost time," she mouths.

---

"Raelyzle, may I speak to you for a minute?" I looked up from my writing at father's expressionless face.

"Of course, Father. Is something the matter?"

"Raelyzle, I have terrible news. I'm not sure what the best way to tell you is, but– " he paused, "– But I think it would be worse if I didn't stall. Raelyzle, my dear, your mother is dead."

The words failed to sink in for a moment or two, but when they finally did, I screamed.

---

Lightning flashes, and thunder rolls. The crew of The Farsight stands on the deck of the ship, violent, hostile, and glaring at its captain. Their weapons are drawn. Dio and I try to hide ourselves in the shadows. If a brawl breaks out, chances are slim that anyone would notice us. But otherwise, the shadows alone cannot hide us. We were close enough to the captain so that if a fight broke out, we would easily be hurt. The navigator, previously unaware of the mutiny, hung back a little ways behind the captain, clearly trying to think of a way to get rid of the mutineers and secure his own position.

"This is mutiny, Capt'n," slurs a sinewy man whose clothes were clearly filthy despite the dim light. I imagine that he is at least partially responsible for the pervasive tobacco smell below deck. "We're mutinying against you. Got any last words?"

Another man, a burlier one, snickers. "Yeah, like maybe the whereabouts of a treasure cache." He laughs at his own joke, but only him, and no one else. His laughter quickly dies.

"We're goin' to give you a choice, Capt'n." The sinewy man takes over again. "Either you hand over command and we let you live, or you pass it on when you walk the plank. What d'you say, hm?"

The tips of all the crew's metal blades shine by the light of the oil lamp swinging from a beam. The ship holds its breath as its captain deliberated.

Then, the navigator decides to do things. One is reach for Dio and press a blade to her neck; the other is to push me towards the captain so that he has no choice but to wrap his threateningly around my neck. His arm is hard a rock twice as uncomfortable against my neck. "Gentlemen," he calls, staring intently into the eyes of the sinewy pirate. "Let go of this stupid game, and we'll pretend nothing happened. Or you can go through with this, and we'll kill off these two lasses as soon as any of you move." Suddenly, he does not seem quite as friendly as before. My heart feels as though it will kill itself by beating against my ribs too hard.

The crew only sneers. "So what?" says someone from the back, "Kill them, go on. In fact, I dare you. Do you think we care about them?" All the color leaves my face. If they really do not care about us, then Dio and I are lost.

---

"Miss Lutheburt, I'm terribly sorry to hear what happened."

"That's okay. It's been almost a year. I'm sure Mother wouldn't like it if we all dwelled on that."

One of father's ships had just returned. When the ship had left, it was before Mother's death. Father and I sat in his office greeting the sailors. They offered us their condolences; they liked mother. She was a good lady of the house. I would never live up to the standards she had set. But I did not mind, for I had Dio helping me.

"Dio?" I asked.

"Yes, Mistress Raelyzle?"

"Could you count the coins and give this good gentleman his pay?"

"As you wish."

In public eyes, we were merely servant and master. I always felt bad after a day of ordering her around. But we were older now, and both of us had known since we were small that a day would inevitably come when our childhood equality would come to an end and force us into two different roles that could not possibly be friends.

---

The navigator presses his knife into Dio's soft skin. Beads of blood ooze out. I sight of it makes me feel ill, though that might be the effect of the waves, now rocking the ship stronger than ever. He turns to the captain and speaks. "I say we kill one, just to show these no-goods that we mean it. Then we can still use the other one as a bargaining chip. What d'you say?"

The captain frowns, clearly not enjoying the idea. He glances at the hostile crew. They glare back at him, eyes full of greed.

The sinewy man cackled. "Oh yes, Captain, go ahead and listen to Hodin the navigator. Subdue the crew and then make me walk the plank. Grand plan. Except how d'you figure it'll be before Hodin decides to lead a mutiny of his own. Might as well get it over with, eh?"

The navigator glances nervously at the crew, having second thoughts about where he placed his loyalties. "C'mon Capt'n. They're gonna murder us."

The magic word is spoken. Murder. Something connects inside the captain's brain. It no longer is about what is noble and right, but about survival. Killing Dio seems as though it might offer a chance. He nods, almost imperceptibly, but I can feel the hairs on his arm brushing the underside of my chin. I struggle, trying to free myself, but only succeeding in making the captain choke me harder. "Dio!" I try to yell, but only managing a half-hoarse whisper. My neck is being pressed too tightly. But I do not care. Dio cannot die.

Death for Dio is swift and unceremonious. In the blink of an eye, the navigator's silver blade sinks into the soft flesh at the base of Dio's throat. When he pulls it out again, it crimson and wet. Her body falls limp on to the wooden deck. She is still alive, her breathing ragged and raspy, her heartbeat irregular and erratic, her eyelids blinking and twitching. I want turn away and not look and pretend nothing every happened, but I cannot tear my eyes away.

I scream Dio's name, but if sound is released, it is drowned in the war cries of the pirates. Because the death caused an uproar among the mutineers, and they launch themselves at the captain and navigator as one.

---

"Do I look like a man now?" Dio turned around in front of me so I could see her outfit from all angles.

I sat on the bed holding a pillow. "Yeah, you do. You'll have no problems getting a ship to hire you." My voice betrayed my lack of enthusiasm.

Dio sighed. "Rae, I'm really sorry I have to leave. Really. But you know that I can go on like this anymore. We can't be master/servant and friends and the same time." I nodded. I understood perfectly well. I just couldn't accept it. I glanced up at her. She really did look like a man now, but that made her look more beautiful than before, somehow. Her deep blue eyes were the same as always. I sighed. I was going to miss her.

She smiled at me and leaned down to give me a quick embrace. My heart leapt into my throat. "So I guess I'll be going now." Her voice was light, as if she was talking about a simple afternoon excursion.

"Yeah," was all I could reply.

Dio picked up her bag. "Well, I'll see you in a couple of years, maybe. Goodbye Rae." She left, climbing through the window and into the night.

"Bye."

She was gone, and the tears ran free.

---

"Stop right there or I kill the other girl too!" The captain's voice is suddenly harsher, and to me it sounds like death. "Unless you want more bodies to deal with, you'll stop right there and put down your weapons." The mutineers stop, but do not put down their weapons. "Well," says the captain, "that's a start." He turns to the navigator, who is busying himself with tying Dio's body to an empty barrel. When he finishes securing the knots, he tosses barrel and body overboard. I give up struggling when I hear the ominous splash. The distance between us grows quickly, and I watch mournfully as Dio bobs up and down in the current of the ship. Dio is gone. Too hard to accept. I can imagine her washing up on an island, her body waterlogged and rotting, missing eyes and pieces of flesh. It is not a cheering thought. As I watch, dark shadows surface and drag her under. Sharks. So she will not even have any earthly remains. I shudder at the thought of her soft face, ripped apart by rows of sharp teeth, mutilated. I lost Dio. Again.

---

I examined myself in the mirror, and very girly-looking boy stared back at me. A brushed a strand of newly-cropped hair away from my eyes, and the girly boy did too. It was odd, seeing myself as a man. I looked nowhere near as convincing as I had hoped. My features were too feminine for anyone to believe they belonged to a male. Dio had had better luck.

I quickly dressed myself in some of the men's clothes I had taken, and put the rest in a canvas bag I had found. I found myself wishing that Dio was here with me, sharing this moment of transformation. Dio had no problem filling the role of a man, but I did, and I wished I could follow her, but stay a woman.

No matter; it was time to follow Dio.

---

Lightning. Thunder. Everything seems so distant and dreamlike. There is a storm ahead of us that I had forgotten about it. It has gotten much closer in the past few minutes. Or perhaps distances of water are hard to judge.

The sinewy man speaks. "We have to take over this ship before we reach that storm. If we're still fighting by then, we won't be able to fight the storm." The men nod to each other in agreement. I was not important enough to give up over. I do not care. If I die, I will see Dio again. That is a good thing.

"Kill me," I tell the captain. "Kill me and have it done with." He cannot hear me; my voice is gone.

"Don't move. I'll kill her, I swear I will." The captain's voice is wavering.

The crew does not care, and continues walking forward, slowly but surely.

"I'll kill her. I swear I will."

The crew keeps coming.

The navigator snaps. "Oh, come now, they don't care, dammit! Just kill her already and get her out of the way!" He grabs me from the captain's arms and plunges his knife, red with Dio's blood, into my throat. How casual the motion that ends my life.

Pain. And everything is gone.

---

Night. My grip tightened on the handle of my canvas bag. The flames of the streetlamps glowed in their glass cages. It is late, and the cobbled streets were empty. In the distance, I could hear the night watchman's footsteps clattering across the stones; the glow of his torch flickered across the walls of dormant houses. Somewhere far away, a raven cawed.

---

And we go full circle, round and round again.