Calliope reached out her hand to pet the leopard but the creature rocked back on its haunches growling a warning. The beast flared its nostril and lashed its tail angrily. Calliope raised an eyebrow but drew her hand back, not willing to risk a nip from the cats sharp fangs. The wine and meat she had consumed made her feel pleasantly full and she reclined back on the comfortable seat. Pondering the Vizer’s words she wondered if it was really true that the spell she had cast in Calaverde was still causing the wind to gale in the harbor. That wasn’t true of a normal spell, but who knew what secrets the Codex held. She was certain that her ‘prophecy’ that the gale would last until she returned to her rightful place, would find its way back to Sebastian on the next ship to make the passage, what his reaction might be was anyone's guess but it was always worth keeping people of balance. 

A brassy metallic music accompanied by soft drums sprang up as two eunuchs began to play. A third unlimbered a strange looking lute and began to strum a low rhythmic melody. As though on cue the doors opened and three beautiful girls, each swathed in gausy silks which covered their midriffs and hips and little else, wove their way sinuously towards a cleared space before the great table. Each of the girls were lovely with dusky skin and dark almond shaped eyes. A profusion of gold bangles hung from their wrists and they began to gyrate slowly to the music. The dance was sensual in the extreme, rolling hips and long stretching movements that drew the eye and set the heart pounding.

Calliope lay back in her chair and watched the performance, her blood stirring in spite of her best efforts. One of the eunuchs refilled her wine as she watched entranced by the increasingly frenetic dancing. The girls seemed to be able to roll their hips in a way that was almost unnatural, compelling the attention like a charm spell. Several times she dipped into her mage sight to see if there were any magical undertone to the dance, but it was pure natural skill and grace rather than anything that snared the senses using arcana.

By the time the dance ended with a soft clang of brass both Calliope and Markus were equally disappointed. The girls lay themselves prostate on the tiled floor in a pose of supplication. Calliope stood up. 

“Can we serve you mistress?” one of the Eunuchs asked. She shook her head. Arad customs were a deal more restrictive than those even of the Sea of Swords and she was in no hurry to offend the sensibilities of a man who killed people just for laughing in his presence.  

“No, I will retire to my chambers,” she declared, turning and leaving Markus to the attentions of the girls. It really was best not to take any chances.

Calliope dreamed. In her dreams she swept from the sky, plummeting like an ebony lightning bolt. The wind rushed passed her in a torrent, exhilarating her as the gray green sea rushed up to meet her. The mage on the deck below was chanting desperately trying simultaneously to defend his vessel and destroy the opponent to the south. At the last moment Calliope’s wings snapped open and her jaws gaped. The mage, a dirty looking man in a turban looked up, his visage carved in shock and horror as her fangs snapped shut, her talons tore the deck as she sprang upwards of the deck in a shower of splinters, great wings beating her skyward, the delicious taste of hot blood filling her mouth.

She swam amidst the wreckage of a great fleet. Even as she watched a galleon, its sides stared with cannon fire and its timbers burned from spell fire, hit the sea bottom, with a thrum of compressed sea water instead of sound. A trail of detritus followed it down like a veil behind a bride, loose objects that had tumbled free when it went under, shattered timbers to heavy to remain above,, food with their limbs shattered and bodies pierced with steel, others fell more slowly having drowned after delaying the inevitable for a few short minutes. She swam past them, the sharks and creatures of the sea bottom would eat well, but her interest was in something more than feeding. Reaching the galleon she tore into its hold, worming her way into the fibre of the ship. Chests lay scattered everywhere, some already spilling their sparkling cargos of gold, silver and jewels, others she tore open, gathering the riches of an empire to her, allowing the gold and gems to slide over her body like oil running over her before a massage.

Calliope’s eyes snapped open and she sat up gasping, a yellow taste in the back of her throat. Her body was soaked in sweat and she trembled blissfully her body quivering. The dragon amulet, the only thing she was wearing throbbed between her breasts, though, perhaps, that was merely her own hammering heart. Staggering out of bed she crossed to the window where a silver pitcher of water sat, glinting in the moonlight. Without bothering with the goblet beside it, she seized the pitcher and bought it to her lips gulping the cool water greedily, so eager was she to quench her thirst that the fluid spilled over her chin and ran down her body. She ignored it, continuing to drink in long gulps until she finally sat the pitcher back on its tray.

Out the window the moon was high in the sky and the stars shone pitilessly down through the clear sky. The heat of the day was somewhat ameliorated as the sun's fury seeped from the rocks into the sky. Through the window she could see the ornamental gardens at the center of the villa, vibrant greens rendered into odd grey tones by the moon. As she watched she saw a bush shiver, a moment later a figure emerged from behind it, stealing stealthily across the gardens towards the wing opposite Calliope, where Markus was staying. It was the girl who had been introduced as Prince Achmed’s bride to be, she realised with a shock. The woman’s face was hidden but her grace and attire were unmistakable. What could she want with a pirate captain?