Day 5, evening

I crouched on the bed with my head between my knees. The smoke and flames ate up the oxygen in my cabin and left none for me. I gasped and choked as my mind cast me back to the stake. The wind whipped at the sails and I jumped at the crack, my heart racing. Do not be miles away, I chastised myself. Be here. Be here, dammit. Do not let what happened in the galley with Izzy before Bermuda happen again. Do not scare her. My throat was closed with the effort. My eyes stung and watered. My hands dug into my legs, holding off the darkness by sheer force of will.

At last the smoke cleared and the phantom bonds around my chest released and all sounded quiet outside my door. I got ready to exit. From now on I would keep myself covered. Izzy would forget about the scars in time. Right? Right. This was just a bad moment. I opened the door.

Izzy was right there waiting. “Do you use anything on your legs? Do you take anything?”

Shit. Okay. The moment wasn’t past yet. But it would be. I just had to keep moving forward.

“I manage. I’m not talking about this.” I said in as I’m-done-with-this-subject-now-let’s-move-on a voice as I could manage. “Bessie? Catherine? How are your quarters? Good? Good.” I blew past their startled faces, their answers wouldn’t mean anything to me anyway. “Let me know when the coffee’s brewed.” I called back as I mounted the stairs to my refuge above.

My heart was pounding too hard. I was exhausted and this morning’s stress was taxing my body. I checked all the sails and rigging then took the measure of the sea and sky as my self worth cracked along the uneven rigid lines of scar tissue flowing down the lower half of my body. I put my feet up on the wheel and gently massaged the already tightening skin. I really should have found something to loosen the tissue. It had a tendency to crack and bleed if I went too long without proper care and my recent incarceration had been rough on my skin. I wasn’t sure what I had in the cargo hold any longer since Izzy had wiped me out but I’d have to find something. I jumped again when she appeared next to me.

“What do you mean, you manage? Those aren’t- people don’t survive burns like that, Anne. And if they do, they definitely don’t lead relatively normal lives afterwards. You promised me answers, Anne.”

I promised her answers. I promised her answers. Dammit, why did I promise her answers?

From below buried and dusty memories I heard the noises of the crowd cheering for my ruin. I closed my eyes and attempted to remain calm. Focus on the waves, focus on the wind. Don’t be miles away. Be here.

I promised her answers.

People don’t survive burns like that, Anne.

How to answer?

I grabbed her wrist and traced along the almost nonexistent scar I’d carved into her hand when I’d vowed to take her home. I’d then healed the tiny scrape with Fountain.

“I do survive,” I spoke as I lifted my finger from her hand. Izzy’s eyes were wide and scared, as they should be. This was not a story with a happy ending.

“The magic water stuff,” she whispered.

Relief flooded through me. Maybe she’d accept that demonstration in lieu of a long and terrible explanation.

“I call it Fountain. Like the Fountain of – not the same, but close.” Zheng, Maui, and I were a bunch of idiots when we named it the Fountain of Youth. The name had stuck and my whole family ended up calling it that.

Questions piled up behind my sister’s lips like water behind a dam. The scars were too damning, if I didn’t want her asking more questions I was going to have to pull out the big guns. I rummaged in the cabinet under the wheel and retrieved my phone.

“Happy wedding by the way. I still owe you a present. So here," I said as brightly as I could.

“Your phone?” Izzy didn’t take the small rectangle from me. I could almost hear her own personal inquisition beginning to pass through her teeth. I had to act fast.

“God.” I powered up the phone and stabbed at the photo album app. Then stabbed at the album titled ‘Izzy’s Wedding Album.’ The picture on top showed Izzy and her new husband standing at the altar. “Thought you’d like them.”

“Oh, Anne. This is...Thank you, Anne.” I suffered through a bone wrenching hug and at last I was left alone on the deck of my ship.

The sudden silence pressed at my ears uncomfortably after the barrage they’d suffered since waking up this morning. I picked at my layers of clothing; I was uncomfortable. I wasn’t usually this covered up on my own ship. I was covered up and yet more exposed than I’d ever been…ever. The wind whipped the sails and I went to check my course.

Izzy did not come back up.

Bessie arrived with coffee and a plate of food and asked if now might be a good time to learn about sailing. It was not a good time for that. She went back below decks.

The trade winds were strong and my ship was making good time today. Three hours later I set my watch for my twenty minute nap.