resolute breath. All right, you’ve got to say something . . . not that, though! But something. Remember what Denaos says: women are dangerous beasts. But you’re a wizard, a member of the Venarium. You fear no beast. Just . . . use tact.
‘Asper,’ he all but whispered, his voice catching as she looked up at him again, ‘you’re . . .’ He inhaled sharply. ‘You’re being completely stupid.’
Well done.
‘Stupid,’ she said, levelling a glare that informed him of both her disagreement and her future plans to bludgeon him.
‘As it pertains to the context, yes,’ he said, attempting to remain bold under her withering eyes.
‘The context of . . .’ she gestured to her patient, ‘setting a man on fire?’
‘It’s . . . it’s a highly sensitive context,’ he protested, his voice closely resembling that of a kitten being chewed on by a lamb. ‘You aren’t taking into account the many variables that account for the incident. See, body temperature can fluctuate fairly quickly, requiring a vast amount of concentration for me to channel it into something combustible enough to do appreciable damage to something animate.’
At this, the burned man added his scowl to Asper’s. Dreadaeleon cleared his throat.
‘As evidenced visibly. With such circumstances as we’ve just experienced, the risk for a triviality increases.’
‘You set . . . a man . . . on fire . . .’ Asper said, her voice a long, slow knife digging into him. ‘How is that a triviality? ’
‘Well . . . well . . .’ The boy levelled a skinny finger at the man accusingly. ‘He got in my way!’
‘I was tryin’ to defend the captain!’ the man protested.
‘You could have gone around me!’ Dreadaeleon snapped back. ‘My eyes were glowing! My hands were on fire! What affliction of the mind made you think it was a good idea to run in front of me? I was clearly about to do something very impressive.’
‘Dread,’ Asper rebuked the boy sharply before tying the bandage off at the man’s arm and laying a hand gently on his shoulder. To the sailor: ‘The wound’s not serious. Avoid using it for a while. I’ll change the dressing tomorrow. ’ She sighed and looked over the men, both breathing and breathless, beyond her patient. ‘If you can, you should tend to your fellows.’
‘Blessings, Priestess,’ the man replied, rising to his feet and bowing to her.
She returned the gesture and rose as well, smoothing out the wrinkles creasing her blue robes. She excused herself from the remaining patients with a nod and turned away to lean on the railings.
And Dreadaeleon could not help but notice just how hard she leaned. The irate vigour that had lurked behind her eyes vanished entirely, leaving only a very tired woman. Her hands, now suddenly trembling, reached to the gleaming silver hanging from her throat. Fingers caressed the wings of a great bird, the phoenix.
Talanas, Dreadaeleon recalled, the Healer.
‘You look tired,’ he observed.
‘I can see how I might give off that impression,’ Asper replied, ‘what with having to undo the damage my companions do as well as the pirates’ own havoc.’
Somehow, the softness of her voice cut even deeper than its former sharpness. Dreadaeleon frowned and looked down at the deck.
‘It was an accident—’
‘I know.’ She looked up and offered him an exhausted smile. ‘I can appreciate what you were trying to do.’
You see, old man? That fire would have been colossal! Corpses burning on the deck! Smoke rising into the sky! Of course she’d have been impressed. The ladies love fire.
‘Well, it would have been difficult to pull off, of course,’ he offered, attempting to sound humble. ‘But the benefits would have outweighed the tragedy.’
‘Tragedy?’ She blinked. ‘I thought you were going to try to scare the rest of them off with a show of force.’ She peered curiously at him. ‘What were you thinking?’
‘ The exact same thing