Jacrys tried to bite her, but Brexan gently pushed him back against the wall, just hard enough to feel a gust of exsanguinous breath, stinking of old cheese and rich wine.
‘Lieutenant Bronfio,’ she whispered. ‘Sallax and Brynne Farro. Versen Bier. This is for them, horsecock.’ She balled her fist and leaned close enough to feel the greasy strands of his hair caress her face. ‘Oh yes, one more thing: the Larion Senator known as Gilmour is still alive. You did know that, didn’t you?’
His eyes widened. Bubbles of blood dripped from his lips.
Brexan, remembering where Sallax had stabbed him, in the lung, just below the heart, punched him hard, slamming her fist into the same place, hoping it would rip open and bleed, drowning the Malakasian spy in his own blood.
She watched for moment, listening until the last of his breath bubbled to silence at the back of his throat, then she helped Hannah to her feet.
Hannah was speechless. Silently, they went to find Hoyt and Milla.
*
Winter in Pellia was, during cold Twinmoons, a mostly dark time. People living in Pellia grew accustomed to prolonged periods of orange dawn and interminable stretches of violet twilight, the reality of winter in Eldarn’s northernmost city. Glaring yellow sunshine was a rarity during this Twinmoon, so when it did happen, it was a symbol of hope and renewal, of opportunity and rebirth.
Fleeing the wharf, Captain Blackford felt more alive than he had in Twinmoons, and he didn’t hesitate to credit the sun; it had been Twinmoons since he had stopped to appreciate the sun on his face. ‘I’m heading home,’ he said to no one, not caring if anyone heard. ‘My sister’s there; it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her.’
He paused to lean against a rail for a moment. He knew he had to get away, but he needed this moment’s grace, a respite from who he had become. With the strange stone nestled in his pocket, he felt he had done something significant, and a moment of sun on his face was not too much to ask in return. He had seen the monster – call it Major Tavon or Redrick Shen; it was still a monster – using the artefact, and he knew the stone was critical to working the table. Without it, he thought Redrick was just hauling an elaborate slab of cold granite north to Welstar Palace. Without it, the table was nothing more than a fancy rock.
For once in his short life, Blackford had done something significant, something genuinely good.
‘Hello, Captain,’ Redrick said, emerging from behind a dockside house. ‘I know you weren’t trying to escape with my key.’
Blackford felt the blood leave his face. Suddenly cold, and very frightened, he stammered, ‘No sir, I- Uh-’
Redrick raised his hands in a gesture that said calm down, please. ‘Don’t be afraid, Captain. Truly, I would not be here if it were not for you.’
‘Please, sir, I-’
‘Captain Blackford,’ Redrick said, his voice all at once harsh, ‘do you have any idea what I plan to do with that chunk of stone you have hidden in your pocket?’
Blackford swallowed hard. ‘No, sir.’
‘I’m going to kill everything, everyone. Do you understand, Captain?’
Blackford felt the world rush away from him, as if it could leave him there alone, leaning against a public mooring post. ‘I- Uh, no, I don’t understand, sir.’
‘What’s to understand, Captain?’ Redrick said, moving closer, looking as amiable as a chainball partner. ‘I have work to do, and you’re keeping me from it.’
‘But sir,’ Blackford started, ‘I…’ He felt his resolve draining away. He wasn’t a brave man; stealing the stone had been the most courageous thing he had ever done. But if Redrick asked for it back, Blackford knew he would crumble.
Instead, the monster came in close and placed his hand flat on Blackford’s chest. ‘What makes you think that you can steal from me, Captain?’ he asked.
Blackford tried to respond, but the demon’s touch was overwhelming. He tried to back away, but couldn’t. ‘What are you?’ he whispered. ‘What is that rock? Why are you doing this? I don’t want to die. I don’t want you to do this to me, not to me. I-’
‘Shhh,’ Redrick whispered in return, ‘It’ll be fine, Captain. Just close your eyes. Do it now.’
Blackford did as he was ordered. There was a gentle press on his chest, and he thought of his sister. She was everything he wished he could be, and tragically, with Redrick Shen’s fingertips pressing on his ribcage, everything he would never be. Blackford tried, in the final moments of his life, to picture his sister, to make her as clear in his mind as he could. If he had to die, that wouldn’t be so bad; she could be with him.
Redrick held the body long enough to withdraw his fingers from Blackford’s chest, then wiped his hand on the dead man’s clothes and felt through his pockets for the keystone. He left Captain Blackford draped carelessly over the hitching stanchion, his body aglow in the unexpected winter sunlight.
BOOK IV
The Fold
MALAKASIAN COLOURS
‘Pel! Kellin!’ Captain Ford shouted, ‘prepare to get underway – I want to catch the inbound tide. Garec, you help them – no, wait, you go and find us Malakasian colours, the largest you can track down. Buy them, steal them, I don’t care; I want to look like Malakasia’s greatest patriot.’ He leapt to the deck and started securing hatches.
‘Will do,’ Garec said, then turned to Kellin. ‘This is Alen; we’ll explain later. How’s Steven? And Marrin?’
‘About the same,’ Kellin said, ‘both feverish, pale, sweating up a rutting ocean, but at least they’re sleeping.’
‘Brexan’s bringing someone who might be able to help.’ He tossed his bow to Kellin, then jogged off to find a flag.
‘Let me have a look at them,’ Alen said, starting towards the aft cabins. ‘Are they in here?’
‘No,’ the captain interrupted, ‘not yet. If they’re sleeping, they’ll be fine for now. I need to see you in my cabin.’ He looked at Gilmour. ‘You too.’
‘Very well,’ Alen said, ‘lead the way.’
‘Pel.’ He tossed the boy a line. ‘When Brexan returns, have her join us. She’s bringing someone who might be injured, so make up a berth.’
‘Aye aye, Captain.’ It was clear that Pel was nervous. Circumstances had granted him an overnight promotion and discovering that his maiden voyage as the brig-sloop’s second-in-command would be along the Welstar River was no comfort. He looked as though he might simply lie down and wait to die.
‘Pel, you’ll be fine,’ the captain added. ‘Take a breath; it isn’t a very difficult boat to sail.’ He smiled. ‘Let me know as soon as we’re ready to make way.’
Inside his cabin, the Larion sorcerers accepted wine and he took a bottle of beer himself. ‘I’ll get right to it,’ he said, sitting down across from them. ‘We are about to sail the most dangerous stretch of water in Eldarn. The fact that we have made it this far and are still alive is staggering enough, but at this point, I need honesty from both of you.’
‘What can we tell you?’ Gilmour said.
‘Will we live through this? Will my ship and my crew survive? Or is this a suicide mission?’
Alen said, ‘Captain Ford, that’s a difficult thing to answer. If you’re wondering whether you’ll live through the day-’
‘I’m not worried about myself.’ He didn’t care that he had interrupted one of Eldarn’s most powerful men; recent events had made him willing to forego the social niceties. ‘I’m worried about what’s left of my crew, Marrin and Pel, and Kellin and Brexan, and this new woman too, young Hannah. If you’re not certain we’ll see the end of this endeavour in one healthy piece, I want to give them the opportunity to stay behind.’
‘That’s fine,’ Gilmour said, ‘but won’t we need them to crew the Morning Star?’
‘I’ll manage without them if it’s necessary to save their lives. You two can help.’