To be a Pirate

Chapter Three

Her mind music sang softly to Maebh as she drifted into sleep. It filled her dreams, accompanying the mighty ship that had taken form in her mind, making its way effortlessly over the waves. Despite its dominating presence, the ship was quite small. The ship's flag fluttered proudly in the wind, but as much as Maebh tried to focus on it, she could identify no details. It was a blind spot in her dream.

Lightning flashed suddenly overhead. The music turned treacherous, as did the waves. All of a sudden, Maebh found herself standing on the deck. She gripped the railing. A recurring theme of three high notes and one low one played in her head, mixing with other rhythms and undercurrent tunes. The wind blew her long, auburn hair away from her face; a spray of salty water flecked across Maebh's pale cheek. The storm should have terrified her, but she felt only excitement as the notes around her picked up into an exhilarating rhythm.

Laughing in wild delight, Maebh closed her eyes and let go of the hull, embracing the storm. The waves calmed, and she felt rays of sunlight now shining down on her face.

"You there!" a gruff voice snarled.

Maebh turned around, startled. A sailor—presumably a deckhand—had come up behind her. Just as with the flag, she could distinguish next to nothing about him, save for two very intense looking eyebrows.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm looking," Maebh replied.

"Looking? Looking for what?" the deck hand demanded.

Maebh opened her eyes drearily to find that it was already morning. How strange that so many hours had passed in reality when in her dream it had been but a few moments.

She stretched for a moment, then pulled herself wearily to her feet. Another day to live through.

First order of business: breakfast. She could tell immediately how she was to find breakfast today from the way the music took a distinctively sneaky quality. She made her way through the crowded and bustling streets towards the baker's shop.

(Sneaky Music to fit what is happening in Maebh's mind)

Smoothing down her matted red mane of hair and trying to look as though she fitted in, Maebh slipped inside. Like every other shop in the city by the harbor, the bakery was full of many irritable and impatient customers. It was no trouble at all to make off with a few loaves. She was in and out within a matter of minutes.

Maebh often took more than she needed and shared it with the other street urchins. She took off down an alleyway now to find them.

The backstreet was quite the unsavory kind—the kind respectable people of good inheritance would never wander down. Though the ground was cobbled, so much mud and debris had been pounded into it that one could hardly tell. The passage seemed to lead on forever, away into the mysterious morning mist. Boxes and heaps of garbage had been piled up on all sides, giving off a feeling of being closed in upon.

"Scallop? Pudges? Ford? Nic?" Maebh called down the narrow alley. "Any of you here?"

Almost immediately, there was a crash and Scallop and Nic appeared. Pudges scrambled out of a large wooden crate, and Ford turned in from another path with his sister, Sierra.

"Did you bring food?" Pudges demanded, always the greedy one. He was small and short, and would've been capable of fitting into any tight space, had it not been for his unusual roundness. It was not the roundness in itself that was unusual, but the fact that this roundness could be found in a street urchin. It goes to say, therefore, that Pudges was uncommonly interested—and successful—in finding and consuming food.