TRIAL AND ERROR | short stories + snippets

"All you have to do," Dorcas says, "is procure me an item from the castle and I will send you on your merry way back to... wherever it is that you came from. Where is it that you're from?"

"Moss Side."

"Moss Side? Is that in the Enchanted Forest?"

"Oh, yeah, that's the one," Cece says, the words dripping with sarcasm. "Fine, sounds like a fair enough deal."

Diwa swivels around to glare at him. "What? She's asking us to steal something." Her glare swings from Cece back to Dorcas. "What kind of sailor are you?"

"Not exactly a sailor, love. But let us say, an unaffiliated one."

"You're a pirate."

"Or we could say that."

"Not a very clever one. You're... parked–" do ships park? "–right in the harbour where anyone can see you."

Dorcas smirks. "Nothing that isn't solved with a little bit of magic." She wiggles her fingers in a mysterious way. "Cloaking spell. People see the ship, look away, and then forget."

Diwa crosses her arms, the concert flyers creasing in her grip. "Why don't you steal whatever it is yourself? Isn't that what pirates do?"

"I'm a wanted woman in this kingdom. They will recognise me."

"Why don't you put a cloaking spell on yourself then?"

"I do not possess magical abilities. Well, there might be certain abilities that could be considered magical."

Cece's face curls. "Ew."

Ew, definitely.

"The cloaking spell was cast on the ship by a warlock as payment many a moon ago. I had planned on sending Roger–"

Dorcas gestures at her first mate, dressed in some sort of posh medieval clothes Diwa wouldn't know the name of.

"–but frankly, he's too polite to make a great thief. You two, on the other hand, seem like the sort that might be more apt."

"Thank you," Cece says.

"It's not a compliment," Diwa hisses, which makes them shrug.

Dorcas paces in front of them, gesturing dramatically. She's wearing about eleven rings but they're coated in enough dirt to not glint even when the setting sun prods right at them.

"You can, of course, test your luck and hope another aperture to your world opens. Or that you stumble upon a good samaritan who has the tools to open one."

Diwa's scowl deepens as Dorcas gloats.

Cece leans in to mumble. "It's our best chance of getting home ASAP. This place is worse than Somerset," he says, as though both he and Diwa are not fully aware that he often misses West Country and whinged about how shit Manchester is most recently yesterday.

"It's dangerous," she whispers back. "Shoplifting is not the same as some royal heist. How are you so okay with being played as a pawn by some so-called captain?"

"My brother's gonna lose his mind if he thinks I've run off again." Though he likely intends it as a joke, the words leave him in a knot of anxiety. Cece chews on their thumbnail.

The anxiety hooks onto Diwa as well. She hadn't thought of that.

She glances down at The Dyke Transition flyers still in her hand. They'll be fucked if she doesn't show up for the concert. Especially after they've promoted it so much.