“I didn’t exactly—”
“I should make you pay for this! I should throw you out of that abode of yours and see you in court, sir, for—”
A finger was pressed firmly against Marmy’s lips. “Hush that nonsense,” said Berry. “He didn’t drag me into anything. I went where we were taken. Neither of us wanted to go. I’ll tell you all about that later, but right now all I want to do is get home.”
“Oh, my bones are shaking.” Marmy put a hand to his forehead. He looked near passing out. “I’ve been chewed to pieces over this. Dear Lord, I’ve prayed and prayed for your return.” He fired a quick glance at Matthew. “The return of both of you, I’m saying. Granddaughter…will you help me walk?”
“I will,” she said, and took his arm.
“Please,” said Matthew before Marmaduke could be helped away in his state of disrepair, “don’t walk straight to a pen when you reach home, and begin to pepper your girl with ink and questions. Berry? Would you please allow a few days to pass before you give any information to anyone?”
“I want to sleep for a few days, is what I want,” she replied, and though Marmaduke scowled at the thought of a broadsheet to be filled with a delicious story that he was yet unable to bite into, he allowed himself to be guided through the crowd.
Others came up to greet Matthew. There was Felix Sudbury and Robert Deverick, John Five and his wife Constance, the widow Sherwyn she of the all-seeing eye and sometimes flowing fountain of a mouth, Phillip Covey, Ashton McCaggers, the Munthunk brothers, Dr. Polliver, Hiram and Patience Stokely, Israel Brandier, Tobias Winekoop, Sally Almond, Peter Conradt and…
…the owner of a black cane topped with the silver head of a lion, which now was placed underneath Matthew’s nose so as to steer his attention to the waspy wisp of a man dressed in pale yellow from breeches to tricorn, topped with a white feather plucked from the dove of peace.
“Mr. Corbett,” said Gardner Lillehorne, making it sound like the nastiest curse ever to leave a man’s lips. “Where the devil have you been?”
Matthew regarded the long, pallid face with the small black eyes that seemed to be either perpetually angry or eternally arrogant. The precisely-trimmed black goatee and mustache might have been painted on by a nerveless artist. “Yes,” he answered. “That’s where.”
“Where what?”
“Where I’ve been.”
“What the devil are you talking about?”
“That’s right,” said Matthew, with a slight smile.
“My God,” Lillehorne said to his cur Dippen Nack, who stood glowering beside his master. “The man’s lost his bird.”
“I’ve been with the devil,” Matthew clarified. “And I’ll be glad to tell you about him. You and Lord Cornbury, whenever you please. Just not this afternoon. Oh.” He remembered his promise to himself, the one he’d made when he’d fully realized the enormity of his dangerous situation on Pendulum Island. He stepped forward and kissed Dippen Nack on the forehead, proving to himself that a promise made was a promise kept.
Nack in stupefied horror fell back. Nack nearly fell over a wharfboard crack.
And then through the crowd came a man who, it appeared, no longer needed a cane. He walked tall and steady, he looked strong and wolfish and ready for any battle ahead. Perhaps it was also due to the very comely—strapping, it might be said—blonde widow Donovan holding his hand and all but cleaved to his side.
“The wanderer has returned,” said Hudson Greathouse. “I believe you have some tales to tell.”
“I do. And as I have said to the High Constable, I am more than willing to tell everything to him, to Lord Cornbury, and to you. And you, first.”
“Over a bottle of wine at the Trot, I presume?”
“Two at least.”
“You are buying?”
“I am currently without funds, though tomorrow I will be paid for being part of the crew of that fine—”
He was unable to finish, because Hudson had picked him up and hugged him, and when Hudson put his strength into it the back was pressed to the test. Fortunately, Matthew’s back passed that test, and he was returned to the ground unbroken.
“Seven o’clock tonight, then,” said Hudson, who suddenly had something in his eye and was trying to get it clear with a finger. “Don’t be a minute late or I’ll hunt you down.” His eyes examined Matthew’s face. “You look older.”
“Yes, I know.”
“It’s the beard.”
“I love the beard!” said the beauteous widow. Her hands roamed Hudson’s chest and shoulders. “Something about that…makes me tingly.”
“Really?” Hudson’s brows went up. “I shall lose my razor this evening,” he decided.
Others came up and either shook Matthew’s hand or whacked him so hard on the back he thought he might yet be crippled. Hudson and his lovely departed, and so did Lillehorne and his ugly. Matthew had caught sight of Minx Cutter moving through the throng, speaking to no one, putting distance between herself and him. And also, possibly, distance between herself and the memory of Nathan Spade. He would find her later. Right now he looked around for someone in particular, a person who would be easy to spot if indeed he had left the ship.
It seemed, however, that Zed had never come down the gangplank.
Matthew went back up, to where Falco was still giving some orders to tidy the deck before any of the others might leave. “Where’s Zed?” Matthew asked.
“Forward,” Falco answered, and indeed there stood Zed at the bow, staring out across the town that had known him as a slave and then never known him as the phantom of Oyster Island.
“Isn’t he departing?”
“Oh yes, he’s departing. As soon as I find a full complement of crew, and I am able to restock my ship, we’ll be departing. That would be a week or so, I’m thinking. Until then, Zed is a guest on my ship and he prefers to remain here until we leave.”
“Until you leave? Going where?”
Falco relit his pipe with a small taper, and blew smoke into the world. “I am taking Zed home to Africa. Back to his tribe’s land, where he has asked me to take him by drawing me a very persuasive picture. And paid me, also.”
“Paid you? With what?”
Falco reached into a pocket. He opened his hand. “These. They’re very fine diamonds.”
Matthew realized what Zed had picked up from the dungeon floor as the castle was crashing down. Not a single object, but two. Sirki’s front teeth were larger in Falco’s palm than they’d appeared in the giant’s mouth, and so too were the sparkling diamonds larger.
“I’ll be damned,” Matthew had to say.
“Damned by one, at least,” Falco corrected. He returned the teeth to his pocket and clenched his own teeth around the pipe’s stem. “You’ll be foremost in his mind. Mark that.”
“I do mark it.”
“I intend to find a house and leave Saffron and Isaac here. I hope you’ll look in on them from time to time.”
Matthew nodded. He’d only learned that Isaac was the child’s name when they were several days at sea. “I don’t believe I told you, but I knew a great man named Isaac,” he said.
“Let us hope my Isaac grows up to be great. Well…I trust you will make good on your promise to held me find a position carrying cargo when I return?”
“I’ll make good.”
“I somehow knew you would say that.” Falco reached his hand out, and Matthew took it. “I also know, Matthew, that you and I are tied together by the bonds of Fate. Don’t ask me how I know this. Call it…knowing which way the wind blows.” And so saying, he blew a small white spout of Virginia’s finest that was caught by the soft April breeze and carried out over the sea.