A Night of Fire

Blackjack was bored, and, being bored, he soon became careless.

“Ouch!” he hissed as the sharp blade of his knife nipped his tattooed hand. Dropping the tuber, he jammed his thumb into his mouth with a muttered expletive as Captain Marsea looked up at him.

“Cut yourself again?” she teased, “Better watch out. Pirates haunt these waters. They love the smell of blood.”

Pulling his hand free to inspect the superficial cut, he looked over at her, “They do?”

“Oh, certainly. It’s a well-known fact amongst us Waverunners that almost any old Argent that you may meet whilst on the Crossing is either a pirate … or was at one point.” She leaned forward furtively, “I’ve even heard stories about our very own Finn, y’know.”

The sea-lamp swung overhead. The Wavemare was rocking to and fro in the long-running swell. Blackjack looked up through the open hatch. Finn was on deck, standing watch at the wheel as the moons chased each other high overhead, casting the bright light of a double-full moon on the deck as the wind tugged the old burl’s silver beard. In the moonlight, he had a wild and rakish look.

Stories, he thought. What stories?

As they couldn’t be overheard, and since the Captain had been dropping these sorts of hints for weeks, Blackjack wanted to know about Finn’s past. If nothing else, the stories would help pass the time while he peeled his small mountain of tubers.

Softly, he murmured, “Very well. Tell me.”

With a nod and a furtive glance at the open hatch, the Captain began.

* * * * *

“I’ll give you the facts. That’s all. Now listen, for no one denies that the story I’m about to tell you actually happened. Some call it the Night of Fire. Some call it the Salamander’s Raid. But whatever they call it, all agree that it was the worst attack ever launched against our home harbor of Hull’s-Up. Every Waverunner knows that those storm-blasted Argents were behind it all. Which one, of course, I can’t exactly say.”

She cast a meaningful look out the hatch to where Finn stood, silhouetted against the distant seascape.

“About thirty-five years ago, an Argent galleon – the Lady’s Bounty – was found washed up on the barrier islands around Trinity after the last storm of the season. Naturally, we pulled it loose and towed it back into the Hull’s-Up shipyards. It was quite a prize – loaded with trade goods from the Five Rivers – silks and porcelain and spices. All would fetch a pretty price from the Sefian buyers in the great market of Fisherhome. As you can imagine, we got to work right away, fixing it up so that it could be sailed west just as soon as could be.”

She leaned back, her eyes narrowing, “Then, just as all was being made ready, this one, solitary Argent trader came sailing into Hulls-Up, as cool as you please, docked his miserable fragment of a ship at the main wharf, marched up to the Admiral’s Bridge, and demanded that the Lady’s Bounty be returned to him at once.”

Blackjack smirked, “I’ll bet that went well.”

Marsea just stared at the table, “You may laugh, and it would have been funny if it weren’t for what happened later. At the time, no one paid him any mind, of course. The Admiral said that it was salvage, fair and square, and that, in two weeks, she would sail for the Westrealm, flying the Waverunner’s chevron flag, come fire, foe, or flood. As for the Argents, the Admiral pointed out the fact that they could always take their claims to the High Court in Sefia if they liked.”

Blackjack grunted. The Captain stood up and crossed to one of the small windows. There, she stood looking out at the moon-frosted waves.

After a few moments, she turned back and continued, saying, “After that, the trader left, but not without making a scene. The guards chased him off, but he made it back to the wharf, took a boat, and sailed out to sea under the cover of fog before he could be captured. As the story goes, he even stole the Admiral’s hat, promising to make the old boy eat either it or his own words before this business with the Bounty was finished.”

Marsea sat back down, “Then, before long, the rumors started.”

“Rumors?”

“Aye. Stories of a curse upon the Lady’s Bounty and her cargo. Whispers began to run in the streets … to sail the Bounty under the Chevrons would summon the Salamander and call down the Night of Fire, they said.”

She paused and looked at Blackjack dramatically.

“Well?” he asked, “Did it?”

“We’ll never know. Not for sure. You see, the Admiral, eager to quell these rumors and, just as eager to get his prize safely away before any ships could be sent from Argent Island, worked his crews night and day to get her ready for sea in half the time. But then, a week after that Argent had come and gone, on the very night before the Bounty was to sail, disaster struck.”

She paused. Then said simply, “Fire.”

“Fire?”

“Aye. It was a dark night. Neither Mother nor Daughter were in the sky. The waters were running full and fast. They breached the sea-wall, as they always do during a great tide. But on that night, the lookouts later reported that they had seen something ghostly running in on the tide and glowing with a pale light of its own upon the water’s surface. Then, all at once, fire!”

Marsea spread her arms, “The very surface of the expanse burst into flame! Worse yet, the tide was driving it straight towards our fishing fleets. If those were lost, then we Waverunners would starve for certain. All bedlam broke loose as crews ran back and forth like mad. How do you fight fire when the very water itself is burning? How?”

She let the question hang in the air for a long moment. Blackjack didn’t answer. He noticed that his thumb had stopped hurting, though.

That was a small mercy.

At length, the Captain sighed, waved the question away, and slumped back in her seat, “You can’t. Well, we saved as much as we could. Thankfully, only a few of the older ships were lost.”

“When the morning finally came, the Lady’s Bounty was gone. There, moored to the buoy that had marked her anchorage, they found nothing but an empty barrel.”

“Empty?”

“Mostly empty.”

In answer to Blackjack’s stare, she sighed and said, “It held a knife, a fork, a jar of finely-ground Five Rivers pepper-root, and … the Admiral’s hat.”

Blackjack smirked. Then he asked, “What became of the Bounty?”

“She was never seen again.”

* * * * *

Her tale complete, the Captain eyed the hourglass. Then she stood, adjusted her hat, and nodded curtly, “Time for my watch. Must go relieve our old shipmate …” her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits once more, “… whether or not he’s our pirate.”

The hatch banged open and shut. Blackjack was left alone with his thumb, his thoughts, and his tubers. With a sigh, he picked up his knife and returned to his task. After all, tubers wouldn’t peel themselves.

Soon, Finn came down the short ladder that up to the main deck. As he shrugged out of his gear, he groaned a bit, moving stiffly after hours on watch. He caught Blackjack’s questioning eye.

The old burl cocked his head and asked, “Well? What is it, laddo?”

The earthshaper jerked his head toward the stern of the ship as he said, “Captain’s been telling me all about the Night of Fire. Know anything of it? Are the stories true?”

At once, Finn’s eyes began to dance and he held himself a bit taller. As the burl tamed his unruly, windswept silver beard, Blackjack imagined him as he would have been thirty-five years younger. In his mind’s eye, he saw him as a lithe, tough, clever youngster with a much shorter beard, but with that same daring glint in his eye. Him? A pirate? It wasn’t impossible.

Finn now took the seat that Captain Marsea had abandoned. Then he leaned back, grinned widely, and began his own story.

* * * * *

“There’s more to that tale than you may think, as there often is. But first, what do you know of the dracomorphic crysophoenix? Nothing? Well, you might know it by its common name – many call it the Emperor Glitterwing.”

“Never heard of it.”

Finn sighed, “That’s right. Being city-born, you wouldn’t have. They can only be found in the wilds along the Breakage. At least, that’s where I found ‘em. Amazing creatures. Fascinating. Living elemental paradoxes, one and all.”

The old burl leaned forward and began arranging the tuber-peelings to illustrate his words as he began to explain further.

“Now, pay attention. Their eggs, when they lay them, don’t look like anything. Rocks. Pebbles. In fact, they’re not unlike that one that the Chief gave you, Blackjack.”

The shaper reached into his mask-pouch, pulled out the stone, and held it up. Finn nodded, but waved it away as he went back to his peelings.

“Let’s call this little pile the pebbles, shall we? Well then, these pebbles are laid by the adults high atop the great floating mountains of the Breakage.”

“You’ve seen them?”

“Of course! I went to try to map a passage through them. Standard journeyman task for us Argents.”

“Did you do it?”

Finn snorted, “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s completely impossible. The place is still utterly wild. We still send youngsters out there to teach them a bit of humility. Still, I lasted longer than most, traveling back and forth through it for over a year. Saw quite a bit. But don’t distract me. This is important if you want to know about the Night of Fire.”

He pointed back to the peelings, “Out there, the mountains tip back and forth when the winds blow. When that happens, the pebbles drop off and fall into the shallows below. The waters there are full of minerals that glow on their own. Phosphorescent powders, we call them. Well, when the pebbles mix with the glowing waters during the dark of the moons, the little critters just hatch right out.”

Finn moved another set of peelings into line, “In this stage of their lifecycle, we call them salamanders. Four legs. No wings. But they can swim like anything.”

He pulled out his bronze statuette, “And they breath fire. A bit like this, but alive.” Finn tickled the belly of the statue, and a jet of white-hot flame leapt forth. Blackjack jumped back, startled. He banged his head against the cabin wall and dropped his tuber.

Finn chuckled as Blackjack fished around for it.

“Sorry. Yes, they are a bit … surprising … especially if you don’t expect them. Why, the first time I saw a hatching…”

Blackjack looked up and eyed him with a stern look as he snapped out one word, “Glitterwings.”

The burl stopped mid-sentence. Apologetically, he said, “Right, right. One tale at a time. Well, as I was saying, the salamanders hatch right out under the right conditions. Then they swim around for a bit. Eventually, after they’ve had their fill of the glowing powder, they curl up in a tight little ball and light themselves on fire.”

“They do what?”

Finn nodded, “Oh yes. It’s remarkable. They grip onto whatever surface they can find, curl up tight, and flare up like anything. White-hot, they’ll get. When they cool, they form a pyrocrys. Pretty little things … I usually have one about somewhere.”

He slapped his many pockets and brought out a oval-shaped stone about half as large as an egg. It was translucent, shiny, and it sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow. Finn laid it down on the table next to the other two piles of peelings. It caught the light of the lamp and sparkled, glowing with inner fire as Blackjack stared into its depths.

Finn pointed to it, saying, “They’ll stay like this until they’re put into a really hot fire. In the Breakage, the earth is always cracking and splitting and so forth, so they find it more often than you’d expect. Once they do – after they cool – the pyrocrys becomes brittle. One good crack, and it breaks. When it does, out hatches a tiny adult crysophoenix. They start out quite small – the size of your thumb…”

Blackjack looked down. His had finally stopped bleeding.

“But they will keep on growing until they are about as long as your forearm. Beautiful creatures! Soft and supple, with the most colorful and glorious wings you’ve ever seen. Once hatched, they ride the thermals on up to the floating mountains where they start the process all over again.”

“You seem to know a lot about them.”

Finn yawned and leaned back, “Yes, I was fascinated by them as a lad. Still am, I suppose. That’s one reason why I always carry my own little bronze salamander every time I set out on a journey.”

That reminded Blackjack, and he reminded Finn, asking, “Salamander. The Raid. The Night of Fire. What about that? Was that you?”

The old burl sat back up, the glint returning to his eye.

“Oh yes. About that. Well, I came into the story a bit after the fact, to be honest. I was on my way back from my expedition to the Breakage and I’d stopped off at Anchor’s Rest. There, while wandering the market, I heard that the old Bounty had been in port recently.”

“I was right glad to hear it. You see, I had sailed aboard her when I left home. Her captain was a friend of the family and he’d been kind enough to take on a newly-risen journeyman like myself. We had a grand cruise down to the Five Rivers. After he dropped me off, I soon found myself on good terms with the Duchess … on account of a minor matter of common courtesy.”

“What happened?”

“I thought you wanted me to tell only one story at a time?”

Blackjack cocked an eyebrow and Finn held up his hands in surrender, saying with a wide grin, “To be honest, there’s not much to tell. The Duchess was on her way to a grand affair, and there was a muddy patch in the street that she didn’t notice. I happened to be there, and it was the work of a moment to whip off my cloak and take care of the problem for her. As I said, a small thing, but she took it kindly.”

Blackjack nodded, “Small things can have a great impact.”

Finn wagged a finger at Blackjack, saying, “Don’t get me started, or we’ll be drifting from our course again. Just remember that it’s your fault this time. Anyways, the Duchess had helped me to get off on the right foot for my expedition. She’d given me … direction … as well as supplies. Because of the her generosity, I’d made it back in one piece, and I was eager to hear news of her and of the Rivers. So, when I heard that the Bounty had recently left Calderra, I jumped back in my ship – what little of it was left after more than a year of dodging the perils of the Breakage – and made all speed for Argent Island.”

Finn grinned, “To be honest, I made haste for more than one reason. You see, the Bounty’s captain had several charming daughters. One of them had been a particularly fine young healer that I’d met once or twice before I’d gone off on my little errand. I was eager to renew the acquaintance. In fact, I’d been counting on dancing with her at the Longest Day festival later that month. But, when I arrived, I found no sign of the Bounty. She’d not been seen or heard of for months. My old friend, the captain, was missing and his family was quite worried. Especially his daughter.”

Finn winked at him. Again, the years seemed to melt away as Blackjack found himself imagining a much younger and more ardent Argent.

“So, without even unloading, with my hold still crammed with barrels of pebbles, boxes of phosphorescent powder, and a few bags of unhatched pyrochrysali, I tore out of the harbor and sailed north.”

“I’d heard about the storm, and I thought that if they hadn’t made landfall at Argent, they might have been blown off-course”

“Sure enough, as I neared the outer barrier islands, I saw one of our distress signals. I went ashore and found the crew of the Bounty. They’d had bad luck, having been taken violently ill after leaving Anchor’s Rest. They thought the Bounty had been lost for sure, since they’d been unable to fight the storm when it struck and had been forced to abandon their ship at the last. They were still recovering, and their launch had been wrecked coming ashore. As matters stood, I was the only one fit enough to go for help. So, I left my cargo with my old shipmates and I sailed as fast as possible for the closest port, which was Hull’s-Up.”

Finn leaned forward and tapped the table, “What do you think I saw as soon as I sailed my battered old wreck into that harbor?”

“The Bounty?”

Finn roared, “That very thing! The Lady’s Bounty, sure and certain! She’d seen some hard use, but she was alright, and those cats were swarming over her from spars to keel like they owned her.”

“Didn’t they? Something about salvage?”

Finn snorted, “Salvage! That applies only when there’s nothing but the ship worth saving. Her cargo was just fine, and the Argents needed it badly to get back on our feet. You see, that wasn’t long after our holdings in Sefia were confiscated because we wouldn’t knuckle under to the Lawkeepers. We couldn’t – not when they were trying to pretend that the Lost King’s laws didn’t matter anymore! We had to retrench and fall back to Argent Island. Cargos like that carried by the Bounty were needed to take care of our sick and elderly.”

“So, you couldn’t take your claim to the High Court, whatever that is?”

Finn snorted again, more forcefully this time, “No. But you should have seen the smirk on that Admiral’s face when he suggested it to me. He knew. Trust me, laddo, he knew.”

“What did you do?”

Finn grinned once more, “I grabbed his hat and ran for it. My old boat had sunk at the wharf – it really had been on its last legs – so I … liberated … another and sailed off. Fortunately, there was a thick fog and, at the time, after tangling with the Breakage, I was quite handy with directions.”

“I returned to my friends. Of course, they were overjoyed to hear that the Lady’s Bounty still swam. Then I told them of the welcome I’d been given. They weren’t too happy that.”

“I expect not.”

“Well, on the way back, I’d hatched a bit of a plan. I told them about it, and they were as eager as I was to put it into action. The first thing to do was to sneak back into Hulls-Up and spread a bit of misinformation. That Admiral had boasted that they’d be sailing in two weeks, but I figured that with a little … encouragement … they could be ready in one. That was important for reasons I’ll soon explain.”

“In my … liberated … skiff, I was able to come and go pretty freely, and with the help of the captain and a few of our other mates, we were able to put our points across. We Argents can be quite persuasive when you need to be, y’know,” he looked down at his master-trader star as he said modestly, “It’s a gift.”

“Well, our plan was working. People were starting to talk. The crews were working right along. So, our next little chore was to make a few deliveries. We took some of the pebbles and powders that I’d brought back with me and stashed them at a few key points scattered about the Hulls-Up sea-wall. All the while, I was keeping a close eye on the Mother and Daughter.”

“The moons? Why?”

Finn chuckled, “Haven’t you been paying attention, laddo?”

Blackjack shrugged, “I have a lot of tubers to peel.”

The burl waved his excuse aside, “Well then, it’ll be a surprise for you. Anyways, I was keeping a close eye on the skies, as well as on the Bounty’s preparations. Sure enough, everything was coming together like a master-fireshaper’s gearworks. The night before the Bounty was to be stolen by those cats for good, the captain and I were waiting alongside in our little skiff, cool as you please, just waiting for the show to start.”

“The show?”

“Aye, laddo. And what a grand show it was! First of all, the tide began to rise. You’ll remember, lubber though you are, that at the double-full and the double-dark, the tides are always much higher than at other times? Well, this was a dark tide. The sea came roaring over the sea-wall, catching up the boxes that me and my mates had staged there. Before long, the boxes broke open and the powders began to float away. With no moons, they glowed beautifully as they rode the waves. Then, once the water and the powders did their work on the pebbles, out began to hatch my little friends.”

“Salamanders?”

Finn nodded, “Hundreds of them. Hungry ones. Those pebbles had been waiting a long time. And once they hatched, there they were … surrounded by their favorite things – water, darkness, and the glowing powder. They acted according to their nature, swimming about like mad.”

“Fire?”

Finn grinned, “Fire. Lots of it.”

As Blackjack gave him an answering grin, Finn shrugged.

“Not much to tell after that. The little fellows gorged themselves on powder, grabbed the nearest thing they could find an flamed themselves out. The floor of that harbor is probably thick with pyrocrysali, if anyone would bother to look. I’ve always felt that should more than cover the costs of any damages.”

“What about the Bounty?”

“Why, in all of the confusion, the captain and his mates slipped aboard and eased her right out of the harbor under the very noses of the watchkeepers. They were all dashing about so much that they never even questioned it. Once the show started, all of the guards were pretty well worked up, especially considering all of those rumors that had been running around for the past week. Well, then, I stayed around a bit longer to make sure that my old shipmates got out clean, but I needn’t have worried. Before I left, I even remembered to return the Admiral’s hat.”

Blackjack grinned, but then he furrowed his tattooed brow, “Captain Marsea said that the Lady’s Bounty was never seen again.”

Finn looked innocent, “Of course she wasn’t. Not with half the Waverunner navy looking for her. But it’s amazing what a little paint, some creative carpentry, and a new set of ship’s papers will do for a vessel. I believe that the crew of the Salamander’s Revenge have done very well for themselves in the past few decades.”

That seemed to tie up the loose ends. Blackjack still wasn’t sure whether or not “pirate” quite fit, but Marsea seemed convinced. Picking up the last of the tubers, Blackjack remembered one last question.

“So, did you make it back in time for the Longest Day dance?”

Finn stood, put on his hat, and reached toward the door to the sleeping cabin. With his hand on the handle, he turned back and said, “Of course I did. You met Mrs. Finn when we stopped off at home, didn’t you?”


Michael Somerville is the author of several short stories, as well as an in-progress high-fantasy series called the Tales of the Broken Realm. He loves telling stories of hope about ordinary characters doing their small part to help heal a broken world. By day, he pays the bills as a hands-on storyteller and project manager, leading and envisioning professional teams in the "real-world", even as he is busily building and illustrating imaginary worlds in his evenings and on the weekends.

Outside of work and writing, he enjoys a wide range of hobbies, including playing music with his family and friends on keyboard or guitar, drawing, sculpting, painting, sewing, and blacksmithing, or walking the length of the Appalachian Trail in his home neighborhood in the Shenandoah Valley, where he serves as a Board member on his local civic association.

Most important to Michael are his family and his church. Michael and Jessica celebrate their 20th anniversary in 2026 and are happily raising three wonderful daughters. He serves actively in his local church, playing music on Sunday, teaching the older elementary kids, and leading a small group of wonderful saints. He hopes to hear "Well done" one day, and plans to keep serving his true King until then.

If you would like to follow along on Michael's writing journey, please sign up for his newsletter.

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