Marta sat at the little, round table that served the sisters for meals and watched over Iris as Amelia took care of the ship. Most of Marta’s mind focused on the mental battle with the Queen. With nothing better to do, she decided it was time to start delving into the Queen’s memories again, hopeful she would find something that would give her an edge in the mental battle.

  To that end, she selected one that definitely wasn’t her own and focused on it.

  At the age of eighteen, Elsbeth Natas walked the halls of Ice Palace Thirty-Five, better known as The Palace of Judgment, because it hosted the last and highest court in orbit of Junas, with the greatest authority in the entire system. The name was rather fitting, because it orbited Ithys, a moon that had been named after the more public-facing of the twin goddesses of justice. Court was rarely convened, because it was rare for anyone to fight a court case long enough to require an appeal to the highest court, since that would lead to extreme delays in the justice system, just to travel there. Travel via the standard navigation tables could take up to four months, which was longer than most cared to take for travel arrangements, instead seeking more localized justice.

  The highest court normally convened for the sake of discussing new laws, or doing away with old ones.

  The ancient courtroom smelled of stone, because great, granite slabs had been set into the floor and walls, though the ceiling remained icy, with a curvature that prevented it from ever dripping, even when the gallery filled to the maximum, with hundreds of people. The front of the room featured a raised dais for the desk of the judge.

  Sharing it was a glass display case with a huge, leather-bound book, which was two feet wide and square, four inches thick, with a little lock. The cover of the book displayed an orbital diagram of a gas giant, plus the title: Newton’s Mechanics. She knew the common man saw it as The Book of Newts, however, with an image of a newt hammered into the leather.

  Elsbeth wore her usual garb as a Newt Witch, while Bones trailed behind her. She’d grown tired of the constant arguments with her superiors in the Order and had decided to renounce her position as a Newt Witch, but she wanted to take something with her, on her way out.

  The arguments had started after the death of Bones and his subsequent transformation into a zombie, which Elsbeth considered a mercy, because the spirit of her dog had insisted on staying with her after he died, and it was better to have a body than to merely haunt the place. However, her sister-witches in the Order hadn’t seen it that way, because they claimed such uses of necromancy were ‘an abomination that should not be allowed’. She’d initially shut them up with the claim that Bones couldn’t do his job as a ghost and she needed him to watch her back, but that argument hadn’t worked for long.

  As great animosity grew in her heart, Elsbeth found a strange fancy came with it, which had grown into an odd obsession over the course of weeks. After a while, she came to realize she’d hated the stuffy nature of the Order all her life and what better way to make a mockery of the whole thing, than to steal The Book of Newts?

  It would even be justice, after a fashion, and exactly the kind of sacrilege that would send the perfect message, at least if her sister-witches ever figured it out.

  It was ironic that The Order of Newts kept The Book on display, a fact they would very soon come to regret. Earlier that day, Elsbeth had visited the office of the Order’s Matron, in the hopes of stealing The Book’s key, only to find the woman asleep at her icy desk, the keys for both The Book and its display case sitting out in the open. It had been too easy, but Elsbeth had pocketed them anyway.

  Now, as she looked on The Book with a kind of giddy anticipation, she hesitated, wondering if it was a trap. She even wondered if the book in the case was a fake, a distraction meant to protect the real article.

  Throwing caution to the wind, she unlocked the case and reached inside, scooping up the heavy book. Powerful magic emanated from the thing, waves of the stuff hitting her in the face as she made contact. Ironically, it was her own magic, but the book had siphoned it from her body and remade it all in its own image.

  Too late, Elsbeth realized the strange fancy she’d had to steal The Book hadn’t been her own idea, but the instant she made contact, it became a concrete notion, rather than a mischievous fancy.

  Deep in her heart, she knew The Book’s frustration at being locked in a case and ignored for centuries, its desires frustrated! It had taken years of subtle adjustments to the minds of susceptible members of the Order, to get the case moved to a public location. It had also taken ages to get the guard rotations loosened and it had also taken everything she could muster to get the Matron to fall asleep with the keys on her desk, but it had been worth it! Now, she was finally in the hands of a young and foolish witch that had no idea how to shield her mind! Within minutes, the witch would be her willing puppet, her mind shattered under the force of her own magic! She would fly to the stars and Elsbeth would be her puppet! She would explore to her heart’s content, until the witch’s body collapsed with age, then she would be handed off to a similarly-vulnerable witch with a weak mind!

  She would never go back to a display case! She would never again be bound and chained in place! She would never again be a slave! Instead, she would enslave her would-be masters!

  While Elsbeth’s will eroded under the twisted onslaught of her own magic, a bit of drool dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She stood there for a long and quiet moment, until Bones growled and tugged at the hem of her robe, nearly pulling her from her feet! Elsbeth dropped the book back in its case and whirled around in a defensive posture!

  She expected to see one of the many bailiffs of the court, which were all rather muscular men, but instead, Elsbeth looked into the eyes of Bones, who glared with deep concern at the case of The Book, because he’d noticed it influencing his master’s mind.

  Bones had spent enough time around magic that he’d picked up a strange ability to sense and even sometimes use it, at least when Elsbeth was in danger. That was a talent he’d possessed before he died, and becoming a zombie had only heightened it.

  “Good boy.” Elsbeth patted her dog’s head, because he’d just saved her from a fate worse than death.

  Elsbeth turned back to The Book again, but with a more cautious and defensive eye. Her magic was flowing toward it, but without contact, it was having a much harder time influencing her.

  “I see what you did there. You arranged all of this, because you want to escape, so I’ll make you a deal: I’ll get you out of here, but you have to promise to serve me. If not, then I’ll let you rot, right here. I’ll even warn the Matron that you’re trying to escape.” She growled, “I won’t be made a slave!”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The magic ceased to flow from the body of Elsbeth and she gingerly touched the cover of The Book. This time, she sensed reluctant subservience. The Book wanted escape more than anything else and was smart enough to give in, at least for the time being.

  She scooped it up and left the Ice Palace with haste, boarding her own small ship, Crimson Crusade. Five minutes after she boarding, the Docking Witch released it into space. She’d timed the theft to ensure she’d be on her way, long before it was noticed.

  She calculated a course that would take her toward Junkshop, the very last place anyone would look for her, then set her spell-core to produce a light sail spell. Her small bridge crew made a few quick adjustments to the winches, then she headed for her personal quarters, where she opened The Book, expecting to find great and powerful spells recorded from every past age.

  She was shocked to instead find detailed explanations of science, star charts, engineering and mathematics, thousands of pages of the stuff, all written so small, it couldn’t have been done by hand, though one could hardly imagine a printing press being setup for a single book.

  Marta roused herself from meditation and stepped into the workshop, where The Book lay on its bench, clamped in place, just in case they lost gravity. Bones yawned and followed.

  For the first time, ever, she saw its true cover, but only for an instant.

  Marta lacked the mathematical gift that the book needed to be compatible with any given witch or wizard, a talent that Amelia possessed. Hypothetically, Mother had also possessed that gift, but if The Book had shown its true face to her, she’d never commented.

  Marta worried about what she’d just learned, bothered by the fact The Book had chosen Amelia, but after a moment, she dismissed her worries; Amelia was far too weak as a witch for The Book to take over her mind. In fact, the stronger a witch was, the weaker they would be to The Book’s influence, because its magic came from the owner.

  Ironically, by making The Book communal property, The Order of Newts had somewhat shielded their strongest members from being easily controlled, at the price of making them all more susceptible to its influence. That hadn’t been the best thing to do, but finding a witch with a compatible mind and weak magic, like Amelia, had been almost perfect.

  Marta wondered if the previous owner, old Mr. Pinewater, had done that on purpose. That old wizard had never been all that good at magic and his only talent was as an illusionist. He’d also been a pirate once upon a time…

  Marta’s jaw dropped, because her own memories had become entangled with those of the Queen, thoughts of the same man twisting together, from multiple angles!

  She sat down and set her mind to sorting the mess out.

  The Dead Queen looked on a small lad of fourteen years, who was so short, his legs dangled in the air, because two muscular zombie soldiers held him up. He wore a thick hood, which helped to obscure his face. As was the Queen’s custom, she looked at the boy from behind, because only pirates and those she consumed were allowed to see her face.

  Currently, the Queen’s body wasn’t a rotting mess, because she’d taken the soul of a girl with rather powerful magic, just weeks before, which had fully refreshed her body. For the time being, she was enjoying wearing low-cut dresses that displayed her ample bosom in a pleasing fashion. She’d also carefully combed and styled her curly, red hair.

  “Who are you, boy?” She asked.

  The boy spoke proudly, “Me’s Pinewater, The Pretender!”

  Not quite understanding, the Queen incredulously demanded, “What, are you pretending to be yourself?”

  “No,” the boy laughed, despite his dire situation, “me pretends to be whoever me likes!”

  The Queen chuckled, because she was starting to find Pinewater amusing, “I’m told you were hiding behind an illusion at a meeting of my lieutenants. You appeared to be ‘Mad-Eyes’ Morley, a fact that didn’t hold up to scrutiny, because he has a mole on his upper lip that your illusions failed to replicate.

  “Now boy, what I’d like to know is how you managed to show up on time, when he didn’t? Morley is absolutely insane about time and goes bonkers if he isn’t punctual, because his internal clock is more precise than the best watch, a fact that makes him quite excellent at navigation.”

  “Well, you see, we was playing poker,” Pinewater began, “and after winning every hand for ten rounds, Morley thought he’d gained the favor of Umros, God of Luck, but the real truth is that me used me illusions to give him all the best cards. He bet his ship and me upped the ante, until he had nothing left, but he was so sure he’d win, I offered to let him bet his name, too. He thought he had a straight flush, but with me illusions, me gave meself a royal flush!” The boy’s face lit up with enthusiasm, “Ye should have seen him blow his top! He wanted to kill me and he even reached for his sword, so me said, ‘Hey, there’s no need of that! I’ll let you have all the cash on the table, if you’ll spare my life! I just want your ship and your name, okay?’

  “After a tense moment, Morley agreed and me booked it out of there, real fast, because me didn’t want to be around when he figured out me bets were all made with fairy gold!”

  The Queen laughed out loud, shook her head and paced behind Pinewater, while she considered his fate.

  “What should I do with such a smart young man?” She eventually asked, “Your magic is too weak for my purposes, but clearly, you’re a bright lad, who’d have a dazzling future ahead, if I could be convinced to spare your life. So, what have you got to say for yourself, clever boy?”

  Pinewater chuckled, “Me sees how it is. Ye need good lieutenants, right? Well, as ye say, me’s clever and smart, with a dazzling future! Why not let me find that dazzling future in yer service? Being a pirate sounds real fun, unlike being the unwanted son of a Newt Witch, who wishes I’d been a girl.” He spat on the floor, an offense that would have gotten a less amusing prisoner thrown into space, “Yeah, me’s really liking this pirate thing. That’s why me stole Morley’s name. It’s not like he was using it, was he?”

  The Queen had to admit, Morley had been her least effective lieutenant, far too obsessed with cleanliness and being on time, a broken clock that had shined far more than an intact and functional timepiece. That obsessive quality of his had even been a huge source of trouble.

  “Okay.” The Queen stepped around her soldiers and faced Pinewater, finally getting a good look at him.

  His hair was about as orange as a flame and as the Queen looked him over, he met her gaze and winked. He was actually good looking, with considerable boyish charm and the audacious confidence to flirt with a woman that was centuries older than he was, however inappropriate.

  The Queen used a warning tone, “Stop flirting, because you’re completely out of your league and your age group.”

  “Ye can’t blame a guy for trying.” Pinewater winked again.

  “Actually, I can,” the Queen’s tone briefly filled with anger, “but I’ll let it go, this time.” She waited for a little appropriate terror to enter the boy’s face, then went on, “You can keep Morley’s ship, but stop pretending to be him, and try looking a little older.” She spoke to the soldiers, “Let him go.”

  Pinewater was set on the floor and the young man grew taller, until he was six feet, six inches. At the same time, he appeared to grow more mature, until he resembled a rakish man with five-O’clock shadow, long hair that had been carefully swept back and strong cheekbones, with a smile that would have made a younger woman’s heart skip a beat. His hooded jacket turned into a long, black, leather coat that was shiny and his hood vanished.

  “Will this do?” He spoke in a deep, breathy voice that would have had those same, younger women fainting.

  The Queen sighed and shook her head, “Tone it down a little. More rugged and scruffy, less rakish, with a gruff voice of command.”

  The leather of Pinewater’s coat turned brown and weather-beaten, while his beard grew slightly longer and irregular. He also grew a tad bit of a beer belly, while his muscles swelled to fill it. He was suitably clean for being a captain, without looking like a pushover.

  “That will do, for now.”

  “What should I call myself?” Pinewater asked, his voice slightly gravelly, which was perfect for his new persona.

  “Use your real name, Captain Pinewater.”

  Shortly after, the Queen re-introduced him to his crew and within five years, he’d stolen The Book of Newts, an offense that the Queen had hunted him for, until she blasted his ship from orbit above Cakana, a place so primitive and backward, it made a perfect punishment for her wayward lieutenant.

  By the point Pinewater stole it, she’d forgotten she even had the thing and in retrospect, that subtle chain of events could only have been arranged by The Book, which had grown impatient enough to arrange another escape.