The Dead Seas Read online

The Dead Seas

  Written by Trevor A. A. Evans

  Text Copyright © 2015 by Trevor A. A. Evans

  Published by Thirteen Crossroads Publishing

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotation in articles and reviews.

  www.thirteencrossroads.com

  “She’s rowing much faster, but it cannot save her

  as she drifts still further, into the Dead Seas,”

  Anwir creepily carols as he rows our boat closer to shore.

  “Stop singing that,” my older sister Chesrie hisses.

  Anwir complies, though he keeps humming the tune, which only aggravates her more.

  “And you like him because why?” I whisper to her.

  We are in the back of the boat, just out Anwir’s earshot if we speak quietly, something we frequently do. I wonder if it ever bothers him, not that it should. We only met him a year ago. Thieves hardly trust anyone, so he can’t expect us to trust him, though he’s somehow found a soft spot beneath my sister’s skin.

  “Oh shush, Kelcie,” she says while elbowing me.

  I punch her back in the arm.

  “We could just toss him overboard,” I suggest. “If this island is as full of riches as he promises, we won’t need him much longer. The coast is only a hundred miles away. All we’d have to do is paddle east two days. Then it would be off to the mountains and a fresh start.”

  The comment brings smiles to our faces. Not at the thought of being rid of Anwir’s obnoxiousness, but of a new beginning. We’ve dreamed of the mountains for many years. Of stopping this life of trickery and deceit and having something real and meaningful for once.

  My sister and I have been survivors since our early teens when our mother was tragically torn out of our lives. An imperial soldier had taken a liking to her. Despite her age, Mother still looked quite young, but she had two young daughters on her mind and therefore had no interest in taking on a lover. Most especially not a brute from the East.

  He forced her, and she fought back. That was always her instinct, which is why Chesrie and I survived our childhood at all. She protected us from our drunkard father until he finally left. Heartbreakingly, she couldn’t protect herself, and the soldier left her so beaten and raw that she gradually slipped into her final rest, leaving us to fend for ourselves.

  Life was almost impossible after that. We hungered for many months, scrounging for what we could behind pubs and markets. Strange men and uncomely women often tried to persuade us to take the easy way out and become slaves to the lust of the disgusting and desperate, but we refused. We wanted to find our own way in the world, though to be honest, our way didn’t end up being much different.

  “How do I look?” Chesrie asks, her eyes focused on the mirror in her hand as she applies a little more makeup.

  “Seductive,” I tease with a grin, receiving a wicked and amused look back from her at my choice of words.

  She is to play the role of Seducer today. That is what we call the one of us whose job it is to get and hold the eye of whichever man we choose to be our prey. Often, he’ll be married. That’s what we prefer. An unfaithful man doesn’t deserve to keep anything he possesses.

  I don’t need to ask Chesrie how I look because I am the Shrew, meaning I’ll avoid mirrors as much as possible today. Chesrie applied the makeup this time, so I don’t even know how she did it, not that I want to know. The Shrew is supposed to be completely undesirable. That way, when she disappears, the man is not suspicious of what she is up to but instead relieved that she is finally gone. What justice it is that she gets to be the one to do the robbing.

  Still, I don’t like being the Shrew, though lately, I don’t really care to be the Seducer, either. I’m tired of living a fake life. I’m certain Mother wouldn’t be proud of what we have become. That’s why I intend to use the rest of my days for something honorable to make up for all of this, not that I have any idea of what that would mean or how I’d go about it.

  Chesrie has been noticing my depressed mood lately. Even now she seems to sense it. Her eyes have turned away from her own reflection and are back on me. We’ve always been pretty well attuned to each other’s feelings. Without hesitation, she places her arms around me.

  “It’ll be over soon,” she says in a soft, sympathetic tone.

  My heart warms, and I regain my confidence. I’ve never been one to be vulnerable like this. Not long ago, I was as calloused as Chesrie. We’ve talked about this change in me a few times. She thinks that maybe it has something to do with my fear of deep water and will go away once we’re back on the mainland.

  There’s something about being on the open sea that terrifies me. Maybe it’s the thought of not knowing what’s underneath me. It’s said that the dark and mysterious waters off the western coast of Eretsfel hide mythical creatures of all sorts, including demonic ones. That is why they are called the Dead Seas, specifically the parts west of this long chain of islands we have been prowling. Some say that the spirits of the dead go there and that the living are sucked in as well if they drift in too close.

  The actual myths scare me less than they do my sister, which is why she was the one to plead for Anwir to stop singing, not that his teasing helps my anxieties. I didn’t want to come out here at all. I tried to convince Chesrie that it wouldn’t be too much of a risk to simply make another pass through the Seven Kingdoms on the coast, but she said no.

  Honestly, she’s right. The punishment for thieves has become much harsher in the last few years, mostly because of increased pilfering in the aftermath of the war. That’s why Chesrie and I have had to bounce from kingdom to kingdom, all the way from Farland in the north to Sangorn in the south. If we had stayed in one place for too long, then there would have been a chance for the guards to link us to our many crimes, or even to ones we hadn’t committed. Moving around was our insurance.

  As we slowly migrated south, however, we found that we still weren’t on pace to save up enough to escape this life. Even though we had been quite busy, our work wasn’t always bringing in the returns we needed. Thieves lose profit converting stolen goods into money. Handlers and black markets will only pay so much and always try to bid lower, and then there’s the money that has to be spent from time to time to get out of trouble. In all, we had done very well, but we needed to do even better. Enter Anwir.

  We met him at a black market in the Kingdom of Safler. I detected his eyes on us, or rather on Chesrie, the moment we walked in. He was in the corner of the dimly lit hall, but stray light from the many cracks in the ceiling made his appearance a little clearer.

  The first thing I noticed about him was that he didn’t look dark or scruffy like everyone else. His light-blonde hair and pale complexion seemed altogether out of place, which Chesrie later confessed to me was why she didn’t push him away when he started flirting with her. His temperament simply came across too harmless to require our normal precautions.

  Little did we realize then how vicious he could be. Despite having hardly any reputation at all among the bands of thieves, he knew the ins and outs of them very well and could talk the talk and walk the walk. He was also able to get us much better deals on our loot than we could have ever gotten on our own. Chesrie took some offense to this, actually. She said it had to do with us being women. Although she was probably right, it was still nice to have a fresh face around.

  “There’s the shore,” Anwir calls out, but I can’t see it.

  “How can you make anything out in this?” Chesrie asks.

  He doesn’t answer her question and instead points through the haze and fog toward some rocks I hadn’t noticed. I shouldn’
t be surprised that he can discern so easily what we can’t. That’s why he’s the guide. He was born somewhere out among these island colonies, though he’s never said exactly where. I’m glad he can navigate the dark mist of these troubled waters so easily because we’d probably become lost at sea without him.

  “Like I’ve said all along, you two just need to trust that I know what I’m doing and where the best places are.”

  Chesrie gives him a playful smile, one that she has been using more than usual lately. Once we’re on land, she’ll become even more animated and energetic. I’m beginning to suspect that she has been exaggerating her mood to encourage me, which works a little bit, but I just can’t share her optimism right now, particularly about this island. Its location is odd, being alone and slightly to the west of the otherwise north-south archipelago that runs parallel to the coast. Its isolation makes me uneasy, makes me not want to be here.

  The boat suddenly hits bottom and tilts to the right, knocking Anwir off-balance and forcing him to jump off into the shallow water. He laughs as he examines his trousers, which are soaked well-above his knees.

  “Well come on in,” he jeers to us, skimming his hand on the surface of the water to splash us lightly. “Haven’t got time to waste.”

  His jovial tone is a little over-the-top, especially for him, as is the smile on his face, which rarely ever