Storm

Everything screamed in her ears, all at once; the sound of the wind, the roar of the waves coming closer, closer, then the water exploding onto the ship, making her whole world shake around her – and the baby’s wails, and her own voice, because by then she couldn’t help but scream.

For an instant it stilled a little, and that was almost worse, because she could feel her heart crashing against her ribs with fear, and she could feel the child trembling in her arms, and then it would begin again – and although she never believed she could grow more afraid, she always did.

The wind rose up again. The wall of water that she could only see in her mind’s eye – she was in a hammock in the ship’s hold in utter darkness – roared towards them once more. Everything exploded again, and again she screamed.

“Gabrielle!”

Xena took the steps two at a time, pulling open the heavy wooden doors and crashing into the tiny cabin. She’d heard Gabrielle and Eve, heard them from the deck above where she was working desperately with the sailors to keep the boat afloat. They’d make it to shore, now, she was pretty certain – and they’d have to do without her help, because she’d heard that note of terror in Gabrielle’s voice and she couldn’t let it stay.

“Gabrielle?”

The girl was curled up, white, her eyes a dark smudge in her pale face. Her arms clutched around Eve, who was stiff with terror. Xena took her baby from her and pressed her close, patting her firmly.

“It’s all right,” Xena continued in a low voice. She’d never seen her so afraid. “We’re sighted land – we’ll be able to shelter in a cove, until the storm passes. We’re safe –“

Gabrielle gave out a tiny sound, then, and Xena moved forward quickly to grasp her hand. Her baby gave a gulp, and relaxed in her arms into a sleep of exhaustion – but Gabrielle kept her eyes fast on Xena.

“That was a storm? I thought it was slightly choppy . . .”

Xena gave out an unwilling chuckle, then touched her forehead to her friend’s. “You’re one brave girl, Gabrielle. Oh – it wasn’t just a storm. I think the Fiorotti family got kind of mad.”

Her eyes flashed, then, and Gabrielle realized that they’d got her kind of mad, too.

“The engagement didn’t work, then?” she asked, trying to keep her mind from the sound of the wind, the continued sound of the waves. “I thought the family was going to back off, now that you and Ares are engaged – now that Eve is his daughter, and not Haero’s.”

“Maybe Ares called my bluff.”

Xena got up then, holding onto a thick beam with one hand, and stepped back, watching Gabrielle rock with the ship’s movement in her hammock. Her free arm was still tight around Eve, her fingers brushing slightly through her soft curls. The Fiorotti family had been after her daughter since the day she’d been born. They had used all their wealth – and all the magic wealth could buy – at their disposal, because they were afraid that as Haero’s daughter, she’d be heir to all their fortune. That one day she’d come after them and take everything from them.

Haero was dead, and couldn’t disinherit her. But his brother, Ares, had told the family that he was marrying Xena, had told them that Eve would be his daughter from now on, and to leave her alone.

“Or maybe they’re after Ares, too. You might have made him too powerful for his own family . . .”

Xena looked over at Gabrielle in shock.

“Of all the people to take his side . . .”

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow. “I’m just playing the devil’s advocate.”

“Ha.”

Gabrielle relented. “I think that you couldn’t love someone who was entirely without redeeming qualities.”

Xena grinned at that. “Well, thanks.” Then she frowned. “Not that I love him, of course.”

“Of course.” Gabrielle shifted a little. “Is it my imagination, or is it – “

It was a human scream; a scream accompanying a thunderous roar, and a shuddering as though the entire ship would shake itself apart.

Xena pushed Eve back into Gabrielle’s arms, then leapt for the stairs, flinging the door open and looking out onto the deck.

Then she stilled.

“Grab your things, Gabrielle. We’re getting out of here.”

The noise had stopped – finally.

The quiet was the first thing Gabrielle noticed, on awakening. Then the odd feeling of sand under her cheek. She sat up, then, remembering.

“Awake?”

Xena was sitting beside her, Eve wriggling in her arms.

“She wants to eat the sand,” Xena explained apologetically as Eve complained.

“We made it!” Gabrielle gasped.

“Well, we made it here – wherever here is,” Xena answered cryptically.

They looked around.

“Apart from the giraffes, it looks just like home,” Gabrielle said doubtfully.

“Home looks like a desert island with mega fruit trees and miniature giraffes?” Xena asked sarcastically.

“Well, I mentioned the giraffes,” Gabrielle defended herself.

She pulled herself up and walked over to the bay. “I’m assuming we didn’t reach the mainland, then.”

“At least we reached the shore. No one else made it . . .”

They were quiet, then.

“They’ll think we’re dead, Gabrielle,” Xena said finally in a strange voice. “Our families – and –“

“And the Fiorotti family.”

“Yes.”

Gabrielle nodded, then, and watched as a knee-high giraffe tried desperately to reach the large leaves of the tree above it.

“And Ares,” she remarked lightly. “The Fiorotti family – and Ares, too.”

Eve crowed loudly, and Xena jogged her on her lap.

“Yes – Ares too,” she said.

“There’s something kind of suffocating about these mega fruit, don’t you think, Xena?” Gabrielle complained, pulling an apple from the tree with both arms, and lugging to the campfire. She held it in place and hacked off a chunk with her knife.

“I’d be careful about eating too much of those – look what they did to the giraffes,” Xena advised her lazily.

Gabrielle put down her knife.

“Xena, I know you’re having the time of your life here amongst all the fish, but don’t you think we need to think about -“

“Look!” Xena shouted, jumping up.

“What – what’s the –“

“Evie’s crawling!”

Gabrielle stared down at the baby.

“Xena, she’s crawling towards the sand.” She scooped her up. “I think you really need to cure her of this sand-eating complex.”

“Who’s my clever, clever, girl, hmm?” Xena cooed, snatching her daughter crossly from Gabrielle. “You are. Yes, you are – and she was crawling to the fish, anyway, Gabrielle,” she added. “A love of fish obviously runs in the family.”

“Evidently,” Gabrielle muttered, as Eve spat out a mouthful of sand. “Xena - can I assume you’re working on a plan to get us back home?”

Xena pulled Eve a little closer.

“The longer they think we’re dead – the safer we are, Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle hesitated. “I know that, Xena. But I don’t want our friends mourning for any longer than they have to. I – I don’t want them to give up hope.”

Xena’s face stilled. “If they know us, they won’t.”

Gabrielle sighed, and began to walk over to the other side of the bay. Sometimes a deserted island was simply a little too small.

They settled that night around a campfire, as they had spent many nights before. Xena hung Eve carefully in her sling so there was no chance of her crawling off towards the sand during the night.

They’d been lucky that they’d been able to snatch up their bags when the ship began to sink; almost everything had been salvageable once pulled out to dry. It was amazing, Xena thought while watching the flames, what had been in that bag of hers. A couple of changes of clothes and – thankfully – some cloth nappies for Evie. And, right at the bottom, a pink pill.

She hadn’t known what it was at first. It was as though she’d completely forgotten that she’d bought the packet of pills all those weeks ago. She definitely remembered throwing them out, but one must have come loose and fallen into the bottom of her bag.

“Sleep-Good,” she murmured aloud – then stopped, looking around at Gabrielle. But her friend was already asleep. It wouldn’t have really mattered, though. No one except Xena had seen the strange advertisement on television for the pill that gave control over one’s dreams. It hadn’t been a real ad, and it hadn’t been a real pill, either. A trick of Ares, that was all.

He’d entered her dream, and helped her once and for all take control of her fears – she’d had so many nightmares about murderers coming after Eve, but finally she’d managed to get rid of them by taking charge of what happened in those dreams. Of course, that hadn’t been all that had happened. If it had, she probably still would not remember what the pink pill did.

Xena touched her lips thoughtfully. She’d learned something about Ares from his kisses that night. Learned something about herself, too . . . .

A sudden memory, as strong as a vision, shook her. His lips on the corner of her mouth, kissing so gently. His eyes, stricken. His fingers gripping painfully into her shoulder –

Was it a dream, or a memory?

Xena shook her head, and rose finally, wrapping her arms around herself. It had been no dream; or at least, no ordinary dream. He’d been there, and she’d trusted him in those moments – she’d let him in, and he hadn’t left.

She had kissed him again since that time. The last time she kissed him, he’d agreed to marry her. Her mouth curved slightly at the memory. Three kisses and he’d been lost enough to promise her his future. Was that the power of her mouth – or of his? After all, it was her future too . . .

She tossed the pink pill in her hand thoughtfully. There was a chance that taking the magic medicine would bring Ares to her, at least to her dreamworld. It was a small chance – who knew how the strange magic worked? – but it was a chance. An opportunity to reassure him that they lived – oh, if she could do the same for her mother, or even for Joxer, she’d do it in a second! To stop their mourning before it almost had time to start – who wouldn’t want such a thing?

Difference was, she didn’t know if she could trust Ares. He was, after all, a Fiorotti – one of the family who wanted to kill her, kill Eve. And he’d betrayed and hurt her in the past. She didn’t know if she could trust him. And if she miscalculated now, she’d put them all great danger.

Sighing, Xena pocketed the tablet. She didn’t know what to do. She just didn’t know.

If they’d come to the island at any other time, Gabrielle mused, it would have been a gift.

She looked around at the tiny place. It was beautiful – a whole world in miniature. The trees with their huge fruit, the small animals who knew too little of humans to be afraid. The rock pools on the shore, filled with darting fish, more colourful than flowers. And it hadn’t rained since they’d arrived. The wind only blew gently.

But then, right then, wasn’t the time to be away. Oh, it meant that the Fiorottis were off their trail, and that Eve was safe for a little longer. But Gabrielle had hoped for a more permanent safety. She knew one thing – hiding never worked out, not for long. Especially not when you half-hoped to be found.

She realised she’d never understand Xena’s fascination for someone like Ares – the kind of guy, Gabrielle admitted to herself, who frightened her. The power that repelled her attracted Xena. The sense of danger that alarmed her excited Xena. And the vulnerability in him that Gabrielle could barely detect meant Xena’s whole world.

If the journey had gone as planned, and Ares had met her at the port – or even if he hadn’t – something would have been resolved. But they’d been taken out of the world, somehow, and while everything was changing outside, they were stuck.

And Eve was eating far too much sand.

Gabrielle snatched up the wandering baby and stuck her finger in her mouth.

“Xena! I think she’s got a few shells in here – ow!”

“She’s teething, I think,” Xena said apologetically. “Keeps wanting to bite down on things.”

“I can see that,” Gabrielle replied grimly, sucking on her finger. “And how many teeth does she have to go?”

“Most of ‘em,” Xena answered, grinning. “Here, let me take her. Ow!”

Gabrielle watched Xena settle Eve on her hip and walk her around the bay. Forget about Ares. The forced idleness was slowly driving a restless Xena mad. She was going to suggest swimming to land, next.

Eve had learned to crawl on the island – she was babbling a few syllables which almost sounded like “mummy”, and she’d already gained new teeth. There was a good chance she was going to grow up to womanhood on this deserted isle without knowing a single other person.

Xena watched her sleeping baby anxiously. All right, so the chance that she’d be killed prematurely by the Fiorotti family was considerably decreased – but so was the chance for her to acquire a bike like Argo, or to enjoy tandoori chicken, or to throw bread rolls at monkeys hanging down from trees. And she’d never get her own pet elephant . . .

And the chance that her own mother was going to go rapidly insane was considerably increased. Gabrielle was her best friend in the world, and she loved her dearly – but no human being was meant to be around her best friend from dawn to dusk without even a motorbike to escape on. And she could tell Gabrielle was getting irritated by Eve’s sand-eating habits. How long before she really got angry with her?

No – there was no choice. She had to swallow the pink pill. It had nothing – absolutely nothing – to do with the memories of the last time she’d shared a dream with Ares. Or the fact that those memories were growing stronger and more haunting day by day. Probably due to the fact that the likelihood of her ever being kissed like that again was roughly equal to the likelihood of them being rescued by pirates that very night . . .

She watched Eve a little longer, then lay down by the fire. It probably wouldn’t work, anyway. The expiration date had been long ago, she was sure. And how could he enter her dream if he thought she was dead?

She put the pill to her lips, and swallowed, finally. It was done. Now all she had to do was dream.

There was stone under her feet. It was cold, and rough, but she was glad, because she knew it must have worked. She had to be dreaming, because there was no stone on the island.

Xena found herself in a small room made of blue-grey stone. She was leaning against the wall, her hands firm on the cold stone. There was a window beside her, and moonlight poured through it.

A whisper attracted her, and she started. She heard it again, and moved to the window. The light almost blinded her – she blinked, and saw a lawn beneath, and a man with a scythe.

There was a thick vine by the window, and she climbed out, making her way down the wall, her fingers clinging to the trailing plant. The low swish of the scythe drew her, as though it really was a whisper calling her.

“I thought you had wallabies to keep the grass cropped,” she said finally, and had the pleasure of seeing Ares jump.

He dropped the scythe, then, but he didn’t turn.

“They won’t nibble on cue any longer,” he answered her. Then he said, “I thought I was awake.”

“Do you have to dream, if I do?” Xena asked. She stepped forward and gripped his arm.

“You can’t be dreaming if you’re dead. I can’t be in your dreams if you’re dead.”

She pulled at his shoulder and turned him to her.

“So I’m not dead, then.”

They stared at one another for a moment.

“I thought you didn’t use magic,” he said.

“I thought you did –“

She was still gripping his arm. He looked down at her hand a moment, and when he returned to her face he was smiling. “I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead.”

He grasped her hand, brought it to his lips, and then that wasn’t enough – he pulled her close and kissed her, touched her face, held it in his hands, kissed her again.

“Don’t wake up yet.”

“Why are you using the scythe?” Suddenly it was important to know. He was cutting grass by moonlight instead of using magic.

“They used a storm to kill you. Or at least – they meant for you to die,” Ares said, watching her face and kissing her, watching her again. “You used to say that kind of magic – oh, everyone knows it. That kind of magic turns back on those who use it. It never had before, but it did this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they wanted to kill you, kill Eve, because they were afraid of losing it all. But they’ve lost it, now. Half of them are in prison for using magic for murder. And the rest of us are penniless.” He laughed, then. “I think we’re the new definition of irony.”

“You’re scything lawns for a living?” Xena asked, horrified.

Ares laughed again, loud in the night. “No. I’m getting by teaching fencing. But someone has to keep the lawns neat . . .” Then he stopped laughing. “You really are alive?”

“Yes. We’re sharing an island with giraffes. It has its benefits, but we’d like to come home. Eve can crawl now,” Xena added inconsequentially.

“And you used magic to find me. Things have turned right around, then.”

“Things have turned right . . .” Xena repeated, and kissed him quickly. “I think I’m waking up.”

“Not yet . . .”

But the lawn was gone and she was awake by a dying fire. For some reason her eyes were filled with tears, as though the smoke had irritated them. But it was blowing the opposite way.

“So you told Ares where we were.”

Xena nodded. “Of course, he could have been lying. And maybe the next ship to come along will be filled with Fiorotti-funded pirates, who will wipe us out along with the giraffes.”

“But you don’t think so.”

Xena hesitated, then shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”

Gabrielle got up, and peered out at the blue line of horizon. “I hope you’re right. After all, he is familiar with sharp implements. Why should a scythe be any different?”

Xena shrugged, then balanced her own sword in front of her. She looked down at it. Last night had been almost the first time she’d faced the man without her weapon in hand. And she hadn’t even thought about it. Maybe that was even more significant than the scythe in his.

"Xena!"

She looked up. "What - is Eve eating sand again?"

"Is that a sail?"

Xena dropped her sword and squinted into the sun. Far on the horizon was a patch of colour - a patch of light. A sail, perhaps. Maybe it was pirates, maybe Fiorotti priates.

She didn't think so, though, and she lifted her sword towards the sun, letting her own light shine across the sea.

...h.o.m.e...
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