Pirate queens revenge, p.19
Pirate Queen's Revenge, page 19
Dauntless slugged Aristides hard in the face before he could get to his feet, and then once more for good measure, then turned to Lysander on the ground.
“Break the circle!” I screamed. “Just—kick shit out of the way!”
“I prefer it when I can just shoot problems,” Dauntless grunted, picking up Lysander and starting for the edge of the circle.
As if summoned, a shot rang out.
Dauntless balanced for a moment, the life draining out of his face. He crumpled at the knees before falling on top of Lysander, still inside the magic circle. On his back, blood began to pool from the hole in his back.
“It is just easier to shoot people, isn’t it?” Aristides said, gun in hand, having pulled it from Neptune knows where.
I screamed, pain and anger and heartache pouring out of me in noise. “Dauntless!”
He didn’t move.
“Dauntless, you worthless scumbag, get up.”
My ears roared. Was it thunder again or my blood racing? I’ve been through the storm of thinking Dauntless was dead once before. I couldn’t deal with it again.
Now both Dauntless and Lysander were stuck in a magic circle and there was nothing I could do but watch helplessly from the side. My chest felt like it was cracking in two.
I wasn’t expecting Magnus Grimstead to be the person to solve my problem, but he had a flair for the unexpected. It’s probably the only thing we have in common.
My pulse pounded in my temples. As I swallowed the rising bile of panic and incense, Magnus Grimstead snapped out of his trance. He took Aristides by the shoulder and cut his throat.
Aristides’ death mask of horror clearly showed that he had no idea that was on the agenda.
Magnus shouted several words, his voice echoing around us in an entirely unnatural way, at least until the roar of thunder drowned him out. Purple incandescence enveloped the circle.
I squinted, only just able to make out what was happening within it. The body of Aristides began to shrivel and age, while Magnus’s body began to smooth out, grow taller, wider.
He was getting younger.
Then Dauntless sat up.
“Fuck, Magpie, what in Neptune’s bristly backcrack just happened?”
“Dauntless!” I choked on the words, having inhaled so sharply I got too much incense in my sinuses. “You were shot!” I looked at Judith. “I thought he was dead. Again.”
“I don’t know!” She threw her hands in the air. “Stop asking me difficult questions. I’m new at this. Besides, from Lysander’s noises, we should get going.”
Lysander was still on the floor below Dauntless, gagged, but making urgently muffled noises.
Dauntless was smarter than me; he asks less questions. He hauled himself to his feet, still visibly confused, kicked the way clear, and dragged himself and Lysander across the sigils and across the barrier of purple light.
The circle was now definitely broken, and the magic felt none too happy about it. Lightning was now inside the house, sparking and arcing wildly off the remains of the circle. Purple zigzags of power lashed out and left burn marks on the floor. Still glowing purple was the air around Magnus and the corpse of his son.
I thought about trying to shoot Magnus but even at this distance, I felt the sheer power rolling off him. I’d be lucky if I didn’t die if I took a shot.
“The house is on fire,” Val shouted.
I sliced Lysander’s bonds and pulled out his gag. “Can you run?”
“From here?” He shuddered. “Yes.”
“Then we run,” I said.
44
We didn’t bother with the damn cart; we just legged it out the door and straight down the hill as fast as we could. The island was in chaos. The goats had mostly but not entirely dispersed. They were now the least of anyone’s problems. The purple lightning was no longer contained directly above the mansion. It was striking all over the island. Several fires had started already. The harbour looked like a mess of broken boats.
I hoped none of the wrecked ships in the harbour were mine.
As the ground under our feet changed from cobblestones to packed dirt, it was beginning to bug me that we hadn’t seen any opposition yet.
“Where’s all the men yelling stop her and after them?” I asked, breathing heavily as I ran. As a sailor, I don’t get a lot of running in, and right now, fear for my life and the lives of people I cared about was doing a lot of heavy lifting in that department.
“Searching for us would be foolish,” the former-commodore said, barely sounding puffed. “They’ll have reinforced the fort, secured the upper classes, and be patrolling the docks.”
“Oh good. I knew it was too good to think we’d get out of here without a fight.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” St Stephen said.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” was Val’s version of the same sentiment.
Unfortunately, St Stephen was right. We ran into a group of ten navy sailors, vigilantly looking out for us. So vigilantly, they missed us until the first shot took down one of them. The fight was fast, even with it being two to one in their favour. Judith and Lysander weren’t much for fighting, and I think the former-commodore was still struggling with morality, but Dauntless fought as relentlessly as the oncoming tide, taking down five of them on his own.
The look in his eyes frightened me, but now was not the moment to dwell on it. Something had happened to him between the time Aristides’s bullet hit him and when Magnus’s magic revived him, and he was trying to get it out of his system with violence.
I could certainly relate to that.
Once we had clear sight of the harbour, I sighed with relief. The Queen’s Liberty was unscathed.The enemy ships were either in ruins or still struggling with the violent waters that had sprung up, to their knowledge, out of nowhere.
Our longboat was within sight. I motioned everyone to hurry, stepping over the dead sailors.
The man I’d paid to watch it was still sitting there. “Told those lads I’d never seen you,” he said, his smile gap-toothed and wide as I handed him the promised coins. “Sure is a lot of hullabaloo tonight.”
“Only a little of it is my fault,” I told him, as everyone loaded themselves onto the longboat.
A shot rang out. The man was blown from his seat into the ocean.
“I hate a liar,” the gravelly tones of Wilfred Haddrick pronounced from behind me with the moral certitude of a man who hadn’t just committed cold-blooded murder.
I spun around. Haddrick emerged from the shadows between two buildings. I have to presume he’d hid there during the fight like a coward because with his large stature and fine clothes, we couldn’t have missed him approaching.
He walked towards me, two pistols aimed squarely at me.
“Why? Because you’re too stupid to lie, or you’re too stupid to figure out when you’re being lied to?” I asked. “Or both?”
His finery looked distinctly worse for wear. I hoped it was from tangling with goats.
“If I’m so stupid, why do I have two loaded guns, while you lot have used up all your shot?” He smiled with undeserved delight. “I saw the fight. You’re all empty. I can shoot you, sink the boat, and Angie will stop delaying the wedding.”
I grabbed my dagger, preparing to launch at him as he raised his gun.
Before I moved an inch, a massive spurt of blood gushed down Haddrick’s leg, immediately drenching his white trousers and pooling at his feet in an alarming volume. I stared at it uncomprehendingly.
Shrieks and cries of astonishment rang out from the occupants of the longboat.
Haddrick’s face was pale and growing paler. He tried to say something but managed only a gasp. The guns fell from his limp hands.
Blood poured out of his leg wound, and he slumped to his knees, still looking at me, and I saw the light go out in his eyes.
As he fell face first onto the dock, he revealed an equally pale Georgiana Weatherby standing behind him. She clutched a bloody dagger, her eyes flitting between me and the corpse of Wilfred Haddrick.
“Did I do it right?” she asked, voice cracking.
“Yeah,” I replied. My heart was hammering fit to break out of my ribcage. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”
“He was going to kill you!”
“You saved my life, kid, I owe you one.” This poor slip of a girl had committed murder to save my life. Probably the greatest stain on my soul for quite some time. “Don’t lose sleep over him, he was a nasty piece of work. Now get out of here before you get done for the deed.”
“I’m coming with you!” Her voice was desperate. “Please. I have to get out of here.”
“Do I have to pick up every stray in the caribbean?” I demanded, as I rolled the bulky body of Haddrick off the dock. “Kid, you’re the governor’s daughter. Can’t he keep you safe?”
“I don’t know where he is!” Georgiana wailed. “He’s been gone for months and Evangeline’s kept me here and…I think they’ve done something to him!”
Oh, Neptune’s balls, she was crying now. I shut my eyes. Of course they have. They can’t have the governor of the local area getting in their way, can they?
“Get in the boat, kid,” I said, as Haddrick’s body hit the water. I mentally consigned him to Davy Jones’ locker. “Might as well add kidnapping the governor’s daughter to my list of achievements.”
“But you’re not kidnapping me.”
“That’s definitely not how they’re going to tell it, I promise you.” I could already picture the new wanted posters.
I climbed in after her, and we began to row. Lysander was either unconscious or asleep and Dauntless stared grimly ahead as he helped with the oars. Georgiana’s teeth chattered from cold or horror or both. Judith put an arm around her.
I looked back at Port Elizabeth—the wrecked ships, the cannonfire that had damaged the fort, the Mercer Mansion burning, and the last remnants of purple light in the sky. I hadn’t succeeded in sending this place to Davy Jones’ locker as I’d promised. But I’d protected everyone I cared for. My friends were all alive.
And so were all the men I cared about. Even if they were all hurt by what we’d been through.
Sebastian, who came from a family that demanded an unknown price for his power, and threatened to exact it from those he cared for. A family I knew nothing about but who seemed intimately connected to the ocean.
Lysander, who also came from a family of power, whose father saw him as nothing but a tool. He only knew manipulation and deceit but had a deeper, kinder side that I had just begun to glimpse. With his rescue, I hoped I could learn more.
Benedict St Stephen, the former commodore, his worldview broken, his only sanctuary with the very outlaws he chased all his life. Justice deceived him; there was no more black and white view of the world, only endless grey. It could be worse: at least in the dimly lit grey, we could maybe come together.
And Dauntless, the one I know almost as well as myself, who lived up to his name. A reliable scoundrel. Whatever had happened to him in that magic circle scared him bad. And that scared me.
45
Back on The Queen’s Liberty, we wasted no time in putting the place to our rudder once again, and sailing away as fast as the winds allowed.
I stood on the top deck with Sebastian, facing the endless ocean before us. The night was clear, so both the sky and the sea were both resplendent in their hues of darkest blue. The sky glittered with an untold number of stars, while the ocean sparkled under the light of a nearly full moon.
I allowed myself to simply exist in the presence of its beauty, after witnessing so much ugliness tonight. I was amazed that the stars and an unspoiled ocean could even share a world with Magnus and Evangeline and their ilk.
After we’d boarded, we’d taken care of everyone as best as we could while beating a hasty retreat. Lysander was in no shape for sorcery. I’d consigned him and the former-commodore to my cabin for rest. I bit my lip. I was really going to have to start calling the former-commodore Benedict.
Dauntless was in my cabin too. He wanted to be away from people. I guess I was hosting a big sleepover again. Truth be told, I was much happier about the prospect now than I had been the first time.
Val came to my side where I stood admiring the view.
“I’ve made Georgiana comfortable in my cabin,” she told me.
“Thanks,” I said. “Any idea what to do next? I’m fresh out.”
“Yes, actually.” She adjusted her glasses. “You’re not going to like it though.”
“Can’t be worse than the last few days.”
“I think we need to go back to the nuns.”
“Nooo,” I whined, very un-piratelike. In my defense I was very tired and those nuns were very mean.
“They have to know something about your family, or at the very least who put you there.” She turned to me, her eyes sharp. “Because either someone lied to Evangeline about you being dead, or she lied to you. You aren’t dead, and someone had to have put you in that convent. That someone can provide information.”
The witty retort I was definitely about to make was cut off by the ship pitching beneath us, before it came to a complete stop in the water.
“What the fuck?” I turned to Sebastian. “I swear to Neptune, if that’s Lysander messing about…”
“It’s not,” Sebastian’s expression was normally comforting but right now, his eyes blazed with fear. “I’m sorry. I believe this is my fault.”
“Sebastian…” I turned to see what his horrified gaze was directed at.
A wall of water had risen directly in front of us, a glossy satin curtain shimmering in the moonlight. It would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been utterly terrifying.
A face appeared in the wall, as tall as the mast, resembling an old man with craggy features and a large beard.
“Sebastian,” the voice moaned like wooden hulls fighting against a storm. “Captain Flint.”
Over the top of my heart pounding, I was vaguely aware that my crew were screaming. I didn’t blame them. I wanted to be screaming, too.
“What’s it to you?” I heard myself yelling back, because my mouth operates even when disconnected from my brain.
“Magpie, don’t,” Sebastian murmured.
“My son has abused his powers on your behalf one too many times,” the voice like the roar of the tides said. “Time has come for recompense.”
“Your son?” I looked at Sebastian. I definitely shouldn’t have put a pin in the questions around Sebastian, I should have dealt with them sooner. He just seemed so nice, I never would’ve guessed his dad was even more frightening than Magnus fucking Grimstead.
Sebastian refused to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hand finding mine and clutching it tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“It is time for us to meet, Captain Flint,” the voice continued, like sails whipping in a storm. “Earlier than expected.”
The ocean below the ship parted, revealing a whirling funnel of water leading into a watery abyss. The ship lurched again and began sailing into it, heading into the darkness of the deeps.
“No! Your quarrel is with me and Sebastian, no harm must come to my crew!”
Everyone on deck was screaming in terror, and holding on for dear life. I grabbed Val’s arm, and felt Sebastian wrap his arms around me.
“I’m not the one that takes things that do not belong to me,” the voice of crashing storms said. With that, the sky was blotted out as water crashed over the ship.
“No!” I shouted. Val was torn from my grasp by the swirling waters.
Sebastian held me tightly, enveloping me with his body. “We’ll be safe. You, me, the crew. I swear it.”
I couldn’t reply as salt water rushed over me. I clung to Sebastian, feeling the ship bear down towards the ocean floor, heading straight towards…
Fuck.
I knew exactly who we were dealing with and who Sebastian’s father was.
We were headed straight to Davy Jones’ locker.
THANKS FOR READING!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Isolde Holyoake saw Muppet Treasure Island at an impres- sionable age, and Tim Curry’s excellent Long John Silver convinced her that fictional pirates are the coolest. She knows Pirates of the Caribbean almost word-for-word, celebrates Talk Like a Pirate Day every year and has recently accomplished her dream of having a really impressive hat.
In addition to pirates, Isolde likes vampires and regency gentlemen. She's partial to wearing dramatic coats and enormous dresses (usually not at the same time). She's an avid reader, and enjoys playing video games and running roleplaying games. She lives on a sub-tropical island at the bottom of the world, where coffee and cats give her life.
She has no idea how to sail, or swim, so all her nautical adventures have to be imaginary.
Isolde Holyoake, Pirate Queen's Revenge
