“Her friend. Used to be a slave,” Falco offered. From the back room a baby began to cry, and Saffron went to tend to their child. Falco blew smoke through his nostrils, his comment on the situation regarding these visitors to his home and intruders to the life of his family. “You’ve got me in some shit,” he told Matthew. “All you people. Dragging me into your business. Did you hear me ask to have my throat cut by Fell’s men? Or to have to watch my wife and child be sliced up in front of me?” The smoke rolled toward Matthew’s nose…and to his surprise and relief, he smelled it. “Answer!” the captain roared.
“I shall,” was the calm response. “I regret the inconvenience, but I am not only here to rescue Berry, but to rescue you and your family.”
“I see how much rescuing you’ve been doing, sir. Has a horse kicked you in the face lately?”
“No, but two asses did their best. Now listen to me, please. I know you’ve told me you were loyal to your employer, as long as he pays well. I understand your love for your ship. But did you know that the professor is brewing a very powerful kind of gunpowder in that fort of his? And that he plans to—”
“I don’t want to hear this. It’s not my business.”
“Your business, I believe you once said, is making the best decisions under the shadow of your sails,” said Matthew. He let that sink in for a few seconds before he went on. “You also once said you wished for a cargo concern of your own, and hoped that Fell’s money would buy it for you. Very ambitious indeed, captain. But you gave warning too, that night in your cabin, that I should take care the professor’s world doesn’t get into me, because there’s a lot of money in it. Do you recall that?”
“I do.” The smoke floated freely, changing shape as it roiled.
“I should give you the same warning, captain, because your sails are luffing in the breeze. You will need to decide in the next few minutes what your ultimate destination—and that of your wife and child—shall be.”
“What shit are you throwing?” Falco growled.
“I am throwing you a lifeline,” said Matthew, staring with great composure into the fierce amber eyes. This man, he realized, could tear his head off with little regret. Yet Matthew had the floor and he intended to keep it. “I can become your employer, if you allow it. I can pay you this night three hundred pounds in gold coins. That’s for you, your ship and a skeleton crew. I want to be taken back to New York, along with Berry, the Ga—if he can be found, because I know he’s alive—and Miss Cutter, if she wishes to go. And one other,” he continued, “who I will bring from Fell’s castle. I wish to pay you for what you do…ferrying passengers. When we reach New York, I can vow to you that I will not only secure you a place ferrying cargo, but I will work to make sure you are the master of your own business much sooner than you expected. And, Captain Falco, I can do this for you. I promise it.”
“He can do it,” said Berry. Falco smoked his pipe in stony silence.
It was the second effort, Matthew thought, that was both the more difficult and the more rewarding. He had no intention of giving up, not he who had sunken down into the depths riding a seahorse and found providence in the kiss of an Indian maiden. Oh no…not he.
“I’m going to destroy the gunpowder tonight,” Matthew said, with no expression in his voice; it was a cold fact. “Or…as the statement goes…die trying.”
“That would be likely,” Falco answered.
“A fool’s errand, yes?” Matthew’s brows lifted. “And who would expect such a fool to get in there and blow that powder to Hell, sir? So…I will have the element of surprise on my side. Now, I don’t know the layout of the land or the fort, so I will truly be in the dark. But I intend to stay in the dark until I get the job done. I’m telling you this because after that powder blows, my friends and I will very quickly need a way off this island. I am asking you, Captain Falco, to afford us that way.”
“I told him he was insane,” Minx suddenly offered. Matthew bit his lip; he was grateful for her concern but wished her to keep her opinion to herself. She stared at the floor for a moment, the tides of conflict on her face, and then she sighed heavily. “Insane or not, he has a good reason to want to do this. I’m with him.”
“Grand for you,” said Falco. “Murder for me and my family.”
“Deliverance for you and your family,” Matthew corrected. “A nice sentiment, that you wished your own cargo business. But you must know by now that no one leaves this island without the permission of Professor Fell. I would suggest that he will use you as he wishes, and at the end of his use the only item of cargo that need concern you will be yourself in a coffin. Possibly also your fine wife and child. For why would he let you leave here and start a new life? No. Impossible.” Matthew shook his head. “You’d best mind the set of your sails, Captain. They do cast a long and very dark shadow over your future.”
But for the soft crooning of Falco’s wife to the child in the bedroom, a silence settled.
Falco stood before Matthew, his brow knit and his gaze distant. He began to slowly pound the pipe’s bowl against the palm of his free hand.
Matthew waited. Nothing more needed to be said. Either the ship found its own way or ran upon the rocks. The captain was thinking; he was an intelligent man, and he was testing the currents of what might be as opposed to those that were.
“Damn,” said Falco at last; it was more the bleat of a lamb than the growl of a lion, yet it was also a lamb that refused to be slaughtered and to witness the slaughter of loved ones. He had begun his own hard voyage, which all ships must undertake.
“I will need at least a dozen men,” said the Nightflyer’s captain. “No one will question me. I know that foodstuffs and supplies are being loaded to take you back to New York in three or four days, as goes the original plan I was presented. But it will take time. And you’re saying we have only hours?”
“I’d like to leave here at first light.” Matthew decided to add: “If all goes well.”
“Hours,” said Falco, with a bitter edge. “Not nearly enough time. The harbor master will want to see my orders before he allows me to cast off. What shall I show him?”
“A letter of orders, what else?” Minx asked. “Who usually writes the orders? Sirki? Or someone else? And how is the letter delivered to you?”
“Sometimes him. Other times, other people. But it’s always on white paper, rolled with a red ribbon into a scroll, and it always bears the professor’s seal. The octopus symbol.”
“So it’s not always the same handwriting? I can take care of that,” said Minx. “I can find the paper and a ribbon, but as for the seal…” She looked to Matthew.
“I have an unbroken seal on the pouch of money I was given,” Matthew replied. “Can it be used?”
“Removed unbroken and used to reseal a letter of orders?” Minx smiled grimly. “Piece of puffet.”
“I will want,” said the captain, “to bring along other passengers. My wife’s father and mother. Her older brother and his family. He has a farm, just this side of Templeton. Without all of them, I will not go.”
It was a complication, but a necessary one. Matthew realized Falco knew the gravity of the situation. When it was clear the Nightflyer had flown early and on forged orders, someone’s head would roll. Possibly the harbor master’s, Matthew thought…and into the beak of the octopus upon whose symbol the unfortunate had relied. “Understood,” said Matthew. “I’ll leave it you to gather them together, as quietly as possible. I assure you that caution is justified here. There will be no rehearsal, and no room for error.”
“Yes,” Falco said, to the master of the room.