Story #72
King of Wands
Analee saluted the Navajo captain from the deck of her clipper as his sand ship slipped past, headed straight down the steep side of the ravine, into the arms of the raiders she’d tipped off. Her pet Gila monster, Ralphie, shifted his orange and black beaded bulk on her shoulder, bracing against the stinging wind, tongue flicking her ear, and she stifled a nervous giggle.
The native had been in pursuit of her ship for the good part of a week, and though normally she would have just cut paths across the desert floor that only her specially rigged boat could traverse, she’d held back. Once her newly acquired crew member, an Elemental she’d saved from a life of slavery, had produced rain in a region where throats were slit for a canteen of water, she’d needed to erase more than just signs of their passing. She couldn’t take a chance that anyone had seen the rainbow, no matter how faint or fleeting it may have been. Instead of just the pirates she’d freed the woman from, Analee and her crew would be a target for every fortune hunter on the continent proper and beyond. She’d worked hard to remain anonymous, insignificant, but she guessed those days were over.
Analee had pushed Sephie, the Elemental, to test her powers out after they’d fled Nuevo Alamo, the trading outpost built around the remains of an old, long abandoned group of oil rigs in an area that was once called Texas. The teenaged captain had harbored a distaste for anyone willing to trade in flesh since her early days at the traveling brothel that had taken her in as a babe.
She’d realized early that she didn’t want to become one of the prized beauties of the place, grateful as she was that Narla had taken her in. She had coppery skin, high, proud cheeks sprinkled liberally with dark brown freckles that the madam frowned at, and an unruly halo of fiery orange curls that Narla had often reminded her would someday be her calling card. As soon as she’d been able, she’d escaped on escapades with Traeger, the old man who did all the trading for their mobile fortress. It was he that had taught her to harness the desert wind and navigate a small tub across the sands, like she’d read that sailors once did across vast oceans of water.
The weathered veteran of the desert, a relic who’d been alive before the bombs had forever changed their world, had harbored a soft spot for the little girl. He had ignored Narla’s constant scolding, taking Analee out with him whenever he went on a run, letting her skin get darker in the sun, letting her build calluses on her hands from working ropes. He’d laugh at her antics, teaching with the utmost patience, until they got in sight of any others out on the dunes. Then, she knew the drill, scarf wound tight to cover everything but an essential strip for vision, fade into the background, do nothing to draw attention, and hope that all they’d remember was an unremarkable little boy in training. Safer, he always said, in the world they lived in, and his training became second nature to her.
After he’d cut her loose out on her own, rather than return her to Narla once her moonblood had begun, it had become even more important that, in order to maintain her trading connections, her tub that became a skiff that became a clipper equipped with grasshopper-like legs of her own invention which made a more versatile and faster moving sand skimmer than anything else in the territory, everyone bought the impression of a slight, clever, soft-spoken young man as captain of her vessel, rather than a vulnerable girl sailing the sands unescorted.
It might have been the memory of flesh being bought and sold that had spurred her to disrupt the deal that the pirates had planned for Sephie. On the other hand, perhaps, it was just time, she reasoned, to come out of the shadows. She couldn’t hide forever as her reputation and crew kept gradually growing. She’d started her solitary life as a scavenger in a tub, harnessing the wind to skim across the desert. Now, she captained her own clipper, a modest ship, easy to manage with her small, skilled crew. With her modifications, her ship had become known as Bestia del Barco, a beast of a ship that featured smaller, manageable sails that utilized the harsh desert wind with minimal damage, and mechanical legs reminiscent of grasshoppers’, that, when engaged, could move her boat over terrain that no bottom sliding-skiff could navigate. These modifications had made her one of the most successful traders and scavengers around.
She’d overstepped her own boundaries by taking on the Elemental, however. She knew in her gut that nothing would ever be the same now. She’d caught the look on the native captain’s face when he’d spotted Sephie. It wasn’t the typical greed. He felt something for her. Analee knew of the Navajo captain. He had an honorable reputation and a small fleet at his disposal. He’d probably fare fine against the straggly group of raiders down the slope who were licking their chops, hoping for a payday, but it might be time to make friends, rather than just her usual, calculated alliances. Sephie might not realize how valuable she was, but it wouldn’t take long for word to spread that the legends of an Elemental were real. When that happened, every ship in the desert would be looking for them.
“You know him?” Analee yelled at Sephie.
The Elemental paused in her work, loosening the legs of the boat, preparing for their departure. “I don’t know,” she yelled back over the wind. “I don’t think so!”
“He recognized you,” Analee responded.
Sephie held the crank steady, seeming to understand, at least in part, the gravity of the statement.
“What’s the play?” Sephie shouted.
Behind her, Analee could see the other crew members waiting for her response.
She considered the situation. She’d stolen the Elemental from a bottom-feeding pirate, but whoever he was working for likely had insider information. Sephie had been traveling with the Governor before her abduction, who was arguably one of the most powerful men in the region. She had forces on her trail that could easily be the most dangerous she’d ever crossed, and a possible ally, smitten with her cargo, heading into a skirmish that she, herself, had orchestrated.
“Aw, hell!” She startled the fat lizard perched on her shoulder, and reached up to steady him. “Let’s go save ‘em!”
Her crew flew into action. It wouldn’t be much of a battle. The raiders were never well organized, and wouldn’t stand much of a chance against both of the sand skimmers together. However, the show could earn her a little leniency with the captain of the other ship, and she was already calculating the future of the alliance.
The card pulled that inspired this story was the King of Wands. I couldn’t help but think back to the very first tarot card pulled for this project, the Knight of Wands. The elements of the desert landscape, the lizard motif, and the color schemes helped bring to life the first in a series of sand pirate stories that had sat, untapped, in my head for a few years. I’m very happy to add a little more to the story.
Instead of a king that rules over the desert sands of what was once known as southwestern United States, Analee, a gawky, brilliant, teenage girl, exudes all the qualities of a great leader. Her crew adores and respects her, and in a landscape that is constantly taking any reason for joy, she is able to foster a spark of hope.
For me, she is the center of this little universe. I saw this girl at the helm of a modified ship, sailing over the sands of New Mexico, inspired by an exhibition of Strandbeests I’d seen by the Dutch artist, Theo Jansen, in Salem, MA years ago. On a road trip, I imagined the dangers of such a ship, pushed by harsh desert winds, slipping over the edge of Nogal Canyon, and being unable to escape the raiders waiting, undetected, below. Sand pirates were born.
Over the course of this Substack project, many of the cards pulled have morphed into stories that feature my cast of desert sailors. This one brings some of those characters, Tristan, Analee, and Sephie, in particular, together.
Thank you for reading! Consider sharing, and stay tuned for more stories.
To read more of the Sand Pirate stories, take a look at the following stories. (You’ll need a PAID subscription to access archived stories for the cost of a good coffee per month.)
Very cool, Lynn! Really enjoyed this!