Uncharted, p.21
Uncharted, page 21
“And you decided you’d go up and down the hall slamming doors until someone came to see what the commotion was? For God’s sake, princess, have some common sense.” In a flurry of angry curses and furious silk, she yanked me across the hall and into the room she’d been in.
“You have three seconds to explain yourself or I’ll have you whipped when we—”
“The prince is here,” I blurted.
Her threat cut short. “The prince?”
“Or Crawford. His cousin. He was at the brothel. I think they’re searching the city for us.”
More cursing. “But what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Ender.”
“I came to find you and Maro so we could get away.”
Lou rolled her eyes. “You can’t be here.” She pushed me toward the back of the room, and it was only as I stumbled that my eyes lifted from her face to our surroundings.
“Where are we?” I asked.
This room was different from all the others I’d seen. Wooden carvings were mounted on the walls, mostly of women with their arms clasped about their chests, their backs arched, and their faces turned up to an unseen sky. Some were dressed, and others bare-breasted. Some had been painted in vibrant colors, and others in the same sun- and salt-stained wood as the deck of the Crimson Siren.
Between the figureheads were wood and glass cases that contained a variety of items. Swords. Pistols. Medals. Belts. There were even feathers and worn hats with a variety of embellishments.
I couldn’t help myself from asking, “What is all this?”
“I’ll tell you if you don’t get us all killed,” Lou snarled. She pulled one of the heavy curtains away from the window. “Get behind this. If you so much as sneeze, I will stab you myself.”
Hardly the beatific saint of Davi’s stories.
“But Count Crawford—”
“Yes, yes, I heard you. Now go.” She pushed me backward.
The air behind the curtains was stuffy and warm. I parted them the tiniest fraction to gulp in the fresher air of the room. Lou had her hands on her waist, and she took a long breath. Calm rippled down her spine like water. The effect of it was spectacular, almost as if she’d slipped on a new set of clothes. She squared her shoulders and tipped up her chin. As if this strange room was hers to command, she pulled the chair back from the desk that stood to one side and slipped into it. She smoothed her skirts out and then leaned back on one elbow, the picture of perfect, powerful ease.
Somewhere, a clock ticked away the seconds, one by one.
We didn’t have to wait long before the sound of laughter echoed up the hallway. Lou tossed her hair back, her beaded braids clattering.
The door burst open, and the laughter suddenly grew even louder, which was fortunate, because I couldn’t help my gasp.
A couple, tangled in each other’s arms and clearly intoxicated, tumbled into the room and closed the door.
“Oh, Ricky,” the woman said.
The man laughed, a deep throaty sound, and buried his face in her breasts. She tipped her head back, echoing his laughter.
It was Maro.
The delight on their face was so foreign, I barely recognized them—but the black dress, black hair, and the glance they threw at Lou were unmistakable.
Maro started, gasping theatrically, throwing the man in their arms away from them. “Oh my goodness. I didn’t know anyone would be in here.”
The man stumbled away still grinning, but it faded as his gaze landed on Lou, lounging behind the desk.
His transformation was as dramatic as Lou and Maro’s had been. One moment he was the picture of inebriated passion, and the next, his eyes had gone flat like a lizard’s, and the color vanished from his face.
“Cinder.” His voice was dry like paper.
I couldn’t see Lou’s face, but from the tone of her voice, I could picture her cold smile as she said, “Hello, Ricky.”
He was older, perhaps fifty. Without any discomfort, he straightened his clothes and cleared his throat. He wore a longish coat and a black shirt unbuttoned nearly halfway down his chest, framing a heavy, red stone about the size of a large egg that hung from a chain around his neck.
His gaze moved to Maro, and his smile was ugly. “You must be the pet assassin.”
Maro’s sneer said they’d like to stab him for calling them a pet anything, but Lou lifted a palm from the desk and they stilled.
“You know why we’re here, Ricky,” Lou said.
“Kiril.”
“You’ve had a good run. Better than most.”
“I’d heard you left his service. Something must have gone horribly wrong if you’re here for me. Trying to buy back his favor?”
“This doesn’t have to be bloody,” Lou said. “If you get down on your knees, Maro will snap your neck. They’re very good at what they do, and it’ll be quick and painless.”
My blood went cold. I couldn’t tear my eyes off the ruby around his neck. It pulsed in the light like it had its own heartbeat. Lou had said she needed the stone. She hadn’t said anything about killing someone.
He pursed his lips, as if he were considering her offer. “This feels like rather a lot of work to go through if you only meant to break my neck.” He smiled, teeth flashing like a predator’s. “I think you want it bloody.”
“I’m not like you,” she said. “I’ve never enjoyed my work.”
“Not even a little?” he taunted. “You’ve never seen the fear and panic in a man’s eyes and taken some small joy in knowing you had that much power over him? Never watched a ship go down and marveled at your ability to control the fate of so many people?”
“Captain,” Maro said impatiently. They lurked behind Ricky. He was a full head taller than they were, and I suspected that was the only thing that kept them from killing him outright.
Lou’s hands balled into fists on the desk. “On your knees.”
The room fell silent, the three of them locked in a terrible standoff.
Slowly, unbelievably, he dropped onto one knee, then the other.
“As you say, Cinder,” he said, “it’s been a good run.”
Maro stepped toward him, taking his head between their hands.
In a movement that had to be practiced, he rolled forward, arms locking around Maro behind him. They cried out, tumbling over his shoulder and sprawling on their back. Maro tried to recover, but he was on top of them in a second, fists flying, connecting with their face and sides in a hail of blows.
Lou was on her feet in a moment, coming around the desk. He leaped up as well while Maro curled up on themself.
“Two against one?” he said, breathing hard. “Hardly seems fair.”
“When have you ever believed in a fair fight?” Lou circled him, arms wide.
He lunged, and she went with him, but she wasn’t fast enough. He grabbed one of the swords that hung from the wall, swinging it wildly. Lou danced back, reaching blindly behind her until she also found a blade.
I’d only ever read about sword fights in storybooks. I’d imagined them to be light, graceful things, two opponents dancing on nimble feet, their blades moving in crisp movements.
Lou and Andel’s fight was nothing like that. They swiped at each other, dodging and deflecting blows. They were both breathing hard within a minute as they moved around furniture, tripping over footstools and getting caught with the desk between them.
He smiled, brandishing his sword. “It’s nice to see some fight from you. So often these days, a man sees my face and surrenders before we even get aboard his ship.”
Lou’s gold tooth flashed. “I’m worth ten of those men.”
“You are. And I’ll enjoy killing you ten times more.”
The sword sliced through the air but locked with Lou’s at the hilt. Hatred flickered in her eyes for the briefest second. He leaped back but came in again as she collected herself, using the hilt rather than the blade once more. His fist connected with Lou’s jaw, and she stumbled back. Her own sword caught in the chair she’d been sitting in and clattered out of her hand.
“Captain,” Maro grumbled from where they were slowly rising, “stop playing and kill him.”
“I’m trying,” Lou said through clenched teeth. She reached for the closest weapon at hand, an iron poker arranged by the fireplace.
She’d barely had time to grasp it before he renewed his attack. He brought his sword down, blade glinting, and Lou raised the poker to fend it off. Sparks flew as metal hit metal, and the sword glanced away. Lou lashed out, swinging her makeshift weapon, but he was comfortable with the sword in his hand and danced back before attacking again, even more viciously than before.
He thrust forward, backing Lou toward the fireplace. She swung, but with his next attack, the sword bit into her arm beneath the elbow, and she hissed. The poker fell from her hand.
He laughed darkly, pressing his advantage. Lou’s shoes slipped in the ash, and she put a hand out to catch herself on the hearth. My heart pounded so hard in my chest I thought I might be sick.
Lou ducked as he brought his sword down again. The blade sank into the heavy wood of the mantel, and Lou, crouched beneath it, threw her uninjured arm up. A cloud of ash flew from her hand and into Andel’s eyes. He cursed and fell back, leaving the sword wedged over Lou’s head as he scrubbed at his face.
I expected her to grab the sword, but instead, she reached over the mantel to pull a tarnished ship’s bell off its hook on the wall. I’d polished one just like that on the Siren and knew it was heavier than it appeared. Blood dripped down Lou’s arm as she gripped it by its thick rope and swung.
If he saw it coming, it was already too late. The bell arced through the air and collided with his skull with a muffled crunch and a deadened chime. He cried out and tumbled toward the window, and I pressed back, hands over my mouth. He gripped the curtains, and for a moment, our gazes locked. Brass flashed behind him, followed by a second crunch. He fell where he stood, taking the curtains with him. Lou’s face was a mask of calm as she brought the bell down on him again and again. His leg twitched, and blood splattered on her skirt and the carpet. By the time she was done, the chime was demented and its crack was wet.
The room was silent except for Lou’s heavy breathing. Maro leaned against one of the glass cases across the room, arms over their chest. Blood trickled from their lip, and one side of their face was swelling badly, but they looked completely unfazed by the atrocity that had just occurred in front of them.
Lou stared down at the unmoving body at her feet before she leaned over it and gripped the red stone around its neck. With a sharp yank, the chain pulled free, but not before it forced the neck to arch and dragged the ruined face to one side, leaving a red streak in its wake.
When her gaze lifted and our eyes met, the mask was cracked. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open as she gasped for air, and she shuddered.
“You shouldn’t have seen that.” Her voice was so soft, I wasn’t sure if she was speaking to me or the corpse on the floor.
“A bell?” Maro asked from across the room. “You could have grabbed another sword from every second cabinet in this room, and you chose to bludgeon him to death with a bell?”
“It has a certain flair, don’t you think?” Lou asked, something flickering in her eyes before she forced a smile to her lips and turned back to the first mate.
“What’s she doing here?” Maro’s gaze was on me, and they looked as angry as Lou had when she’d found me in the hallway.
Lou slipped the glinting ruby from its chain and dropped it down the front of her dress. “The prince’s cousin is here.”
“What?”
“We have to leave. He’ll be watching the harbor.”
“You’re only mentioning this now?” Maro snapped.
“It didn’t seem like the right time before. Princess.” Lou gripped my shoulders. “Princess!”
“Yes?” My voice wobbled. I couldn’t look away from the body on the ground. The smell, the blood, it was seeping inside me. I would need a lifetime in Davi’s washtub to be clean again.
“Do exactly as I say. We have to go quickly. No time for sneaking through the shadows. You have to pull yourself together, do you understand?”
“You killed him.” I couldn’t stop my hand from shaking as I pointed at the oozing corpse.
“No one will mourn him. Princess. Listen to me.” She shook me hard. “George!”
My name caught my attention. “What?”
She put an arm around my waist, pulling me tight against her. Blood sparkled like tiny rubies on her chest. “They’ll be watching for a pirate and a princess. They may not know to look for three of us. We have to make them think we’re something other than we are. Do you understand?”
“I’m not a princess.” My lips felt numb, and I shivered.
“She’s in shock,” Maro said.
“Get on the other side of her. Help me keep her upright. If anyone asks, she’s had too much to drink.”
They half carried, half dragged me out of the room, away from the ruined body on the floor.
PART III
THE PRINCESS
18
We went out the front door as if nothing was wrong. Noises from the party outside echoed behind me, but no one stopped us.
“Good night!” Lou called cheerily as we stepped outside. A few people replied with well wishes behind us, but we kept moving.
I glanced up at Maro. Their swollen lip and cheek were closest to me. “Your face,” I said.
“Shut your mouth,” Maro hissed, but as soon as we were out of range of the torches that lit the house’s front, their face fell into shadow. No one noticed.
We made our way back the way Davi had brought me. Once or twice, Lou would mutter something like “Two guards ahead of us,” and Maro would let go of me, slipping into the dark.
“You killed him,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“He would have killed me.” Lou’s voice was hard.
“You killed them all.” So many men sent to the deep. “Why?”
She pulled me into her, burying my face in her chest. She smelled of sweat and blood, and I wanted to vomit.
“Please,” she said. I thought she might have kissed my hair in the way Ender had kissed Rosie before. “Please, George. I need you to be strong a little longer.”
Another set of arms were around me. Maro was back. We continued on. Maro and Lou took up a merry song I’d heard a few of the men sing on the ship late in the evening when the work was done. I tried to join them, but my voice sounded rusty and hoarse to my own ears. I staggered between them, letting anyone who passed think I was drunk. Three revelers on their way home after a raucous party.
Ender was waiting with Berix at the wharf. They sat in the longboat, wrapped in heavy cloaks that, in the poor evening light, made them look like a pile of oilcloth. Maro and Lou helped me down the ladder as the two sailors unfolded themselves and set their oars.
“Is she all right?” Ender asked.
“Bit too much to drink,” Lou said, loud enough to be heard by anyone who might be listening. I was still leaning against her. Her skin felt so hot, I thought it might burn me. I pushed back, tipping off the wooden bench into the bottom of the boat. Water seeped through my skirts, and it chilled me instantly. I shivered so hard, my teeth chattered until I bit my tongue and tasted blood.
That was the last straw. I lurched to the side and vomited. My body clenched and spasmed.
“That’s it.” Lou’s voice was no doubt supposed to be soothing, as was her palm on my back caressing in slow circles, but it all felt grotesque. “You’ll be fine soon enough.”
I didn’t think I would. I’d never be able to wipe away the sight and sound of that man’s skull caving in.
They helped me climb the ladder to the Siren. My feet kept getting trapped in my borrowed dress. I was still unsteady as strong hands lifted me over the rail and onto the deck.
“Get ready to depart,” Lou said. Her voice was so calm, I hated it. How could she be so unaffected? “Take the princess to my cabin.”
“I’m fine,” I said, but the words felt uneven in my mouth.
“You’re not. Take her to my cabin.”
Gentle but firm hands—whose, I didn’t know—led me away, and I didn’t fight them.
Once I was in Lou’s cabin, I couldn’t breathe. The usual ship smells of tar and mold mixed with the blood and vomit, and the world spun around me. I paced, sucking in big breaths of air. I cried, and when I wiped my tears away, my hands came back smeared in a chalky white paste that reminded me I was still wearing Davi’s makeup.
I searched the cabin for a way to wash my face, hiccupping on sobs as I went, but found nothing until I came to the door in the back. When I pulled it open, I found a smaller chamber that held a single bed. For a moment, all I wanted to do was lie in it, pull the quilt over my head, and forget the world. But I wouldn’t be able to find comfort in Lou’s bed.
A pitcher and bowl sat on a narrow chest of drawers opposite the bed, and when I lifted the pitcher, water sloshed inside.
My hands shook as I scrubbed my face longer than I needed to. I shuddered and wept. No matter how many times I rinsed my skin, I couldn’t shake the idea it was coated in a thin film of blood and gore.
The ship swayed under my feet. Whatever Lou had done, we were underway.
When the water in the bowl was a cloudy gray, I stumbled to the outer cabin. I paced. I sat on one of the low sofas, but that only brought back the memories of the first time I’d been with Lou in here. Her disdain, her lack of compassion.
She’d shown me who she was, time and time again. I’d been so naive to believe Davi’s fairy tale. Whatever she’d hoped to achieve by telling it to me had been lost in the crack of a man’s skull under a bell.
Lou entered the cabin—maybe hours later, maybe minutes. I was working myself into a lather, pacing in tight circles.
Her face was flat, perhaps tired, but mostly resigned. “Highness,” she said.
With a shriek, I crossed the space between us in three steps.
