The Key: Book 2 The Rose Tree Chronicles

Chapter Four: The Proposition

The cabin door swung open as the two pirates who had taken Rein captive returned with the captain striding in behind them, just in time to see the glass jar teetering on the edge of the desk. The captain lunged forward, catching it mere inches from the floor.

“What did ya do?” the captain scolded as he brought himself back to his feet.

“We left the jar on the desk so it wouldn’t roll like that, Cap’n,” the first pirate said. “She musta did that herself.”

The second pirate observed Rein closely. “She don’t look so good.”

“You fools!” The captain removed the lid. “She’s suffocating ‘cause ya put the lid on the jar!” He poured the limp pixie into his hand and set the jar on his desk. “Return to yer posts, ya bottle-heads.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” they both replied, shamefully.

The captain laid Rein on his desk and waited for her to regain her strength. “Can ya hear me, Little Pixie?” he asked.

Rein’s head buzzed in sync with her fuzzy vision. She glanced around in search for the owner of the voice speaking to her. “Please,” Rein managed between breaths. “Don’t…”

“I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” The captain took his seat behind his desk. Now she could see who spoke to her, though he appeared as a large, red and brown blur. “I just wanna talk to ya. But if ya need yer rest, I completely understand.”

“What will happen … if I sleep?” Rein asked as her vision only depleted further.

“Absolutely nothing. Again, I wanna talk to ya.”

“I don’t want … to sleep…” and then the world went black.

ξ

Rein stirred, her body cradled in unexpected comfort. Deep crimson velvet brushed her skin, plush and warm. She sat up slowly, blinking against the dim light filtering through a sliver of air. Then she took a moment to gather where she was, how she got there, and why she was there. Around her, polished ebony walls gleamed faintly. By the smell of it, Rein concluded it was an old cigar case, ornate and well-crafted. A velvet handkerchief was placed with care as her bedding. Shifting quietly, Rein crept toward the opening where she gently lifted the lid and peered through. A blur of dark color met her gaze, distorted by the narrow view. She couldn’t make out much more than the shape of the desk beneath her. She was still in the captain’s cabin, then.

Rein carefully lifted the lid above her head, and looked around. The room was far more refined than she’d ever imagined a pirate’s quarters could be. The entire ship appeared to be carved from rich redwood. The air was laced with the scent of forest and salt, an unexpectedly pleasant mix. Shelves groaned under the weight of books, their spines worn but clearly well-used. Stained-glass windows glowed faintly behind heavy mahogany curtains, casting colorful streaks over fine furniture and polished curiosities. Every object had a story, some no doubt stolen, others earned through blood and peril.

Based on the collection, this wasn’t just any pirate’s cabin. Her eyes caught sight of a ruby dragon figurine, its design unmistakable from the Volitare Isle. A clay vase from Zadar, one of the Bahg Vada islands—a relic she’d only seen in sketches. The realization settled like a stone in her stomach. The Blood Omen. She was aboard the infamous vessel of Captain Tzatara, a name whispered with awe and dread across Xyntriav. The man who had never lost a battle, who had uncovered at least two of the legendary World Wonders. Renowned. Feared. Untouchable.

Rein’s breath grew shallow. She inched forward, ready to test whether she could slip out of the box and make a silent escape. But the creak of the cabin doors froze her in place. Voices spilled in; the captain’s low timbre, another crewman’s sharper reply. Without a sound, she slipped back into the velvet folds and pressed herself flat, heart hammering as she listened.

“Ya don’t understand, Cap’n,” said the voice of the crew member. “We must do something before someone on Arcor finds out about The Pelican.”

“They won’t find out,” replied the captain. “Unless a sea rat from our boat blabs when we return.”

“And what about the supplies? What’s Arcor gonna do?”

“When The Pelican doesn’t make berth, they’ll send another.”

Rein watched through the keyhole as the captain sat in his chair. The voice of whom Rein assumed to be the first mate was now closer on the other side of the desk.

“But there still won’t be any supplies for a while. It takes weeks for another shipment to be ready. We have the supplies Arcor needs.”

“Arcor will survive. They’ll just go without much rum for a while. It wouldn’t be any different if The Pelican was lost in a storm in the middle of its voyage.”

“Chaos will erupt, Cap’n … more than what Arcor is known for, that is…”

“And we won’t be there to witness it.” The captain grinned.

“But what about our mates on the island?”

“Since when did ya bear such a kind heart, Yacomé?” asked the captain.

“I’m just worried about our port, Cap’n. When we dock again, will there be an Arcor left? And if so, will our mates welcome us back?”

“Of course there will be an Arcor left! And they’ll welcome us because they won’t know we commandeered their supplies.”

“Ya know what I mean, Cap’n.”

“Well ya shouldn’t worry so much. Since we have a lot more cargo on this boat, we won’t be docking anywhere for some time. So any problem Arcor may have will be taken care of by the time we dock again. Now I can continue to search for … what I’ve been searching for, without having to stop for supplies.”

Rein caught the captain’s fleeting glance to the cigar case with his piercing green eyes.

“We won’t be docking for … how long?” Yacomé asked.

“I reckon for, at least, another three months perhaps,” the captain answered. “At most six. Yer enough of a seadog to be able to handle such a voyage, I hope?”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

“Good. Now get back to yer post. And tell the crew I don’t want to be bothered for the next hour or so.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Rein heard the footsteps of the first mate leave and the cabin doors close. Then the captain leaned toward the box, and lifted the lid a crack, just enough to see if Rein was awake.

“Are ya gonna try and scurry off?” the captain asked. “Or can I open this all the way?”

Rein didn’t answer, but only sank further into the handkerchief. Her mind raced with potential escape routes, but it was difficult to determine the effectiveness of her plans in what felt like such a short period of time.

“Are ya gonna stay put?” the captain asked again.

Rein nodded, so the captain opened the box.

“Now stay in the box. I’m just gonna ask ya some questions, and I want honest answers. Can ya do that for me?”

Even though she had an idea as to the type of questions the captain wished to ask, Rein nodded again. She sat up a little, and scanned the area outside to eye possible escape routes again.

“Good,” said the captain. “So how did ya get on me boat? Stay in the box…”

Rein sank back into the handkerchief. Was she caught? Did he figure out what she was doing?

“Relax, Little Pixie. I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” the captain reassured. “What’s yer name, for starters?”

Rein hesitated, but answered quietly with a cracked voice, “Rein Bow. Two words.”

“Hello, Rein,” the captain said. “I’m Captain Tzatara. Now, how did ya get on me boat?”

“I stowed away on The Pelican by hopping into a crate of grapefruit,” Rein answered. “Then your crew carried me on.”

“I see,” said the captain. “Me men tell me your wings were torn off some time ago.”

“By Emperor Mentir, over three hundred years ago,” Rein answered.

“You’ve lived over three hundred years without wings?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve been living off the burdania flower.”

“Ah, I see.” Captain Tzatara stroked his raggedy red-brown beard in thought. “So ya hid yerself on The Pelican, eh? Did ya know where to it was headed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You want to go to Arcor?”

Rein nodded.

“Ya do know that Arcor isn’t necessarily a holiday location, right?”

Rein nodded again.

“And that’s where ya were headed?”

Rein nodded once more.

“Well speak to me, Little Pixie!” the captain laughed.

“My friend is there,” Rein said.

“Ah. Might I know yer friend?”

“No, she doesn’t live there. It’s a long story, sir.”

“I see. Yer not dressed very well to be going to Arcor, ya know. It be winter there.”

Rein glanced down at what she was wearing: a crimson tube-top hugged her frame, the fabric soft but firm. Beneath it, a long-sleeved fishnet layer clung to her arms. Her skirt of blackflower petals hugged her hips and ended just above the knee to reveal diamond-shaped markings on her right calf, and intricate, arcane etchings on her left thigh. A gold chain circled her waist, delicate but strong, doubling as both a belt and holster. Her dagger rested at one hip, a coil of rope at the other, both waiting for trouble. She flexed her fingers—fingerless gloves wrapped her palms snugly—and her feet were silent in black slippers; the kind made for slipping away unseen. The captain was right; this wasn’t a winter outfit.

“Well,” Rein answered. “I wasn’t aware it was winter there.”

“Well fortunately for you,” Captain Tzatara said as he rose from his seat, “I happen to have a collection of sprite outfits stashed away for ya to rummage through and pick out what ya fancy.”

Rein watched as he crossed the cabin, the floorboards creaking beneath his boots. He reached the window seat and lifted the dark purple cushion to access the hidden compartment beneath. From inside, he lifted a small, blackwood jewelry box etched with precise geometric patterns that caught the low light in a soft sheen.

“What do you want in return?” Rein asked.

Captain Tzatara shrugged as he brought the box back to his desk. “Nothing, it’s not like I have need for ‘em.”

Rein leaned out of the cigar case to get a closer look at the box as the captain set in front of her. She glanced back up at him. “Am I allowed out, Captain?”

He nodded. “Just don’t scurry off.”

Rein climbed out of the cigar case and approached the box. Inside was just about everything she could imagine, from pants to cloaks, to shoes and accessories.

“What all am I allowed to take?” Rein asked.

“Whatever ye can carry, my dear,” the captain laughed. “Again, I don’t need ‘em.”

“There must be a catch.”

“The catch will come with a different offer I plan to give ya later, my dear. But right now, just enjoy yerself. This is my token of peace.”

Rein stared at the tiny garments nestled inside the box. An array of delicate and colorful clothes meant for sprites and pixies, stitched with threads finer than spider silk. She couldn’t help but wonder how Captain Tzatara had come by such a collection, but she forced all possible answers away with a breath, and tried to do what Captain Tzatara said: enjoy the gift. Her fingers sifted through the options: lace, satin, shimmering petals, tiny clasps that gleamed like starlight. She gently lifted a black velvet coat from the collection, the fabric folding like liquid shadow in her hands. The cut echoed a pirate’s coat with its broad shoulders and tapered waist, but there was elegance in the stitching, and when she slipped it on, warmth bloomed instantly across her skin. The inside was lined with something impossibly soft, like moss kissed by morning sun.

“Suits ye,” Captain Tzatara complimented.

Rein continued to sift through the box until something glinted at her from beneath a frilly pink skirt. Curious, she reached and grasped it by the hilt. It slid free with an unexpected weight, and she held it to the light, eyes widening. A miniature sword, slender and elegant, complete with a finely crafted scabbard. The blade’s guard was shaped like curling vines, and the metal gleamed with a faint iridescence, as though kissed by moonlight.

“It’s a beauty ain’t it?” the captain commented. “I wish there be one my size. Know how to use one?”

“Somewhat.” Rein shrugged and set the sword aside to continue searching through the clothing.

She pulled out a pair of black leather boots, the surface worn to a soft sheen, their interiors lined with plush squirrel fur. Rein slipped them on. They were snug at the toes, and warm around the ankles. Not perfect, but close enough. Next, her fingers brushed over wool. She pulled out a purple shirt, and marveled at the intricate gold floral embroidery that shimmered across the collar and large sleeves, delicate as morning frost, crafted by pixies themselves. Rein pulled it over the layers she currently wore, and the fabric settled against her with a comfortable weight.

“Ya do know that you can get yer wings back, right?” Captain Tzatara finally asked.

Rein glanced at the captain, guessing where this statement was going to lead. She knew that the end of the upcoming conversation would not be pleasant.

“Yes, I found out a hundred twenty-three years ago.” She continued to search through the box. “Apparently only the Mystery Miracle Worker can do it. No one can find her though, hence her name.”

“She’s very well-hidden indeed,” Captain Tzatara acknowledged as he stood.

Rein pulled a pair of crimson, cotton leggings from the box and watched as the captain approached his bookshelf. He removed a leather-bound book, rather small in size.

“She told me that she wanted to find a place no one could find in a million years,” he continued as he returned to his desk. “Seems to me that she’s quite succeeded in that, for the most part.”

Rein watched as Captain Tzatara opened the cover of the book, and she caught a passing glimpse of what appeared to be a loose page.

 “You know her?” Rein asked as she slipped the leggings on beneath her skirt. They were a little long for her, but they would suffice.

“We were lovers once,” the captain said after he sat back down.

“So, you know where she lives?”

“Aye. Every detail.”

Rein found herself predicting almost each step of this entire conversation while she put the boots back on. “This is where the catch comes in isn’t it?”

“Yer absolutely right, my dear,” Captain Tzatara said. “I want something in return if I’m going to tell ya where she be.”

Rein shrugged the coat back on. “Well, luckily for me, someone on Arcor knows where she lives, so I can just ask that person.”

“Chances are they only vaguely know where she lives. But there be more important details you’ll need in order to find her exact whereabouts.”

Rein narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“For instance, she lives inside a cave that be located inside another cave. What be the chances of this Arcorian knowing that much and more?”

Rein was skeptical, but Captain Tzatara was most likely correct. It couldn’t be easy to find the Mystery Miracle Worker, or else everyone would have found her by now. And if the captain knew her personally at one point in time, he would have all the information she needed.

“What exactly do you want for the extra details?” Rein asked. “I don’t have much to offer.”

“Ah, but ye have plenty to offer. Yer a pixie!”

Rein could feel her blood pressure rise, even though this is precisely how she had expected this conversation to go. “It’s very unfortunate how strong my weakness is.”

“Aye,” said the captain. “I can understand that sentiment.”

“I can’t tell you anything, Captain. I’ve sworn an oath.”

“Ya don’t even know what I’m gonna ask yet.”

Rein swallowed her panic. It was true that the one thing she couldn’t predict was the exact question he would ask. “So tell me.”

Rein bit her hand and refused to look at Captain Tzatara as he explained what he wanted to know. Rein should have guessed all along.

“Ya see, Rein Bow, I’ve been waiting several years now for the key to the Cataras Springs to make its way on land. And I think you can tell me where it be.”