Blue Sea Burning (16 page)

In the end, I was still mad—mad at myself, mad at Millicent, and mad at that stupid, tall, handsome Cyril with the pretty hair.

But I knew if I wanted to be the kind of person who was worth the ten million gold my uncle had paid for my life, I had to figure out how to ignore all of that and do what was right.

I had to get Millicent out of jail. And worse—I had to get Cyril out, too, if I could.

It felt awful. Even so, I eventually got it together to march back into the jail and tell the soldiers that Commodore Longtrousers had ordered the two teenagers from Sunrise to be freed immediately.

Half a minute later, I marched right back out again.

“What happened?” Kira asked.

“They said their orders are to release the prisoners only to their fathers. And if Commodore Longtrousers feels differently, he'll have to come down to the jail himself.”

The Meeting

I WENT TO SEE
Burn Healy alone. Kira preferred to go back up the hill, catch up with Mr. Dalrymple, and await the Okalu elder who could translate the Fire King's map. And Guts decided he'd rather spend the rest of the morning with Kira and her kindly old tutor than a couple hundred pirates on their way to getting dangerously drunk.

Which was fine—I was so used to begging my uncle for help that by now, I didn't need any moral support.

I found Healy sitting with half a dozen of his crew at a back table in the crowded dining room of the Four Winds Hotel. If there were any non-pirates left among the hotel guests, they were keeping to their rooms. Healy's men had the run of the place, and—I guess because there wasn't enough hot water for them to all bathe at once—they'd unofficially divided the dining room into clean and smelly sides.

Fortunately, my uncle was on the clean side. His hair was damp and freshly combed, and he had on a white shirt that was so crisp and new it practically glowed. He'd rolled up the sleeves, and his muscular arms hovered over a large plate of grungy-looking shells, split open to reveal some kind of slimy gray seafood.

Although to be honest, if it hadn't been for the plate, the dining room, and the fact that my uncle was tipping the slippery hunks of muck into his mouth, I never would have guessed it was food.

“Hello, Egg. Just in time for lunch. Have a seat.”

The pirate next to him moved over, and I sat down between them.

“Thank you.”

“Can't let you stay long without a bath, though. No offense, but you're quite rank. Have you gotten a room yet?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Better snap one up before all the good ones are taken. Probably aren't any harbor views left. Are you feeling all right? You look a little flattened out.”

I felt more than a little flattened out. But I didn't want to get into why.

“Just a bit, uh . . . tired, I guess.”

Healy picked up one of the grungy shells and offered it to me.

“Here. Try an oyster. Perk you right up. They're delicious.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, quite. I'm on my second dozen. Try it with the horseradish.”

“No offense, but . . . eegh.”

Healy leaned back and stared at me with what I hoped was fake disgust. “You are
not
my nephew. There's no nephew of mine doesn't like oysters. Ridiculous.”

He sighed and took the oyster back from me.

“What do you want, then? Ham sandwich? Cup of soup?”

“A favor, actually.”

“Again? Savior's sake. Is this what parenting's like? Children pestering you all the time, never taking no for an answer?”

“I don't know,” I said. “I'm not a parent.”

He looked around the table. “Well, who is?”

“I am,” piped up one of the pirates.

“Really, Dobbs? Never knew that about you. How many kids you got?”

“Dunno. Never met one.”

“Well, how do you know you're a parent?”

Dobbs shrugged. “Just a guess. Been around a while. Odds are. Y'know.”

“I don't think that counts. Oyster?”

“Don't mind if I do.”

Healy passed the plate to Dobbs, and I was just about to get back to asking for the favor when the Governor-General appeared. He was slightly less red in the face than before, but there were deep worry lines across his forehead.

“Mr. Longtrousers—”

“Commodore.”

“I'm sorry.
Commodore
Longtrousers—”

“So thrilled you're joining us for lunch. Make room, brothers. What are you drinking, Governor?”

“Thank you, but I'm . . . not actually hungry. May I speak with you privately?”

“That depends. Can you put a smile on your face?”

The Governor-General tried to smile. He was unsuccessful.

Healy shrugged. “Points for effort.” He got up from the table. “Come along, Egg.”

THE THREE OF US
sat down in a small private dining room. I wasn't sure why I was there. Neither was the Governor-General.

“Does the boy need to be here?”

“Oh, quite. He plays a critical role in my organization.”

“How so?”

“He's my gardener. What can I do for you?”

The Governor-General took a deep breath. “While I recognize that you have every right to request as much currency as you have on deposit, you need to know—”

“How a bank works? I'm well aware, thanks. And not terribly sympathetic. If I were Smith-Jones, I'd be spending my day calling in loans.”

“Captain Healy—”

“Oh, is this
that
kind of meeting? Well! I'll put my other hat on.”

“The hard truth, Captain, is that we could call in every coin on this island, and we'd still be several million short of ten.”

“It'd be a start, though. Why don't you do that, and we'll see where we are?”

“Because doing it will create a currency crisis!” The Governor-General's face was turning red. “Our whole economy will go to pieces!”

“Sounds like a real test of your leadership. But I'm sure you'll manage. You're
very
capable.”

The Governor-General shut his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Healy gave him a supportive smile.

“Buck up, my friend. A pirate in port spends freely. Any coin I put in my crew's hands will eventually wind up back with your merchants. Seems to me that'd be quite
good
for your economy.”

“Not if my people are afraid to walk the streets! The presence of your crew has reduced this town to a state of terror!”

“I can't imagine why,” said Healy. “We have an agreement, you and I. One of which my men are well aware and have no intention of breaching. Treat us square, and you have nothing to fear.”

“Try explaining that to the public. It's not as if our agreement's common knowledge.”

“I'm afraid that's your problem.”

They were both quiet for a while. I wondered what their agreement was. Healy scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

“If you're truly strapped, why not take the ten million out of Sunrise? Hasn't been a silver ship in five months—that mine must have produced at least ten million by now.”

The Governor-General stared at a spot on the table for a long moment.

“No . . . We shipped the silver out before the invasion.”

Healy raised his eyebrows.

“Without an escort?”

“It went on the ship that took the
Earthly Pleasure
refugees home. She had a naval escort. We thought it best to . . . empty the pantry, if you will. In the event that the invasion of Pella led to any unanticipated consequences.”

“Funny, you didn't consult me about that.”

“It was none of your business,” the Governor snapped.

“No need to get upset. I'm only trying to be helpful.”

“You want to be helpful? Get these pirates out of my town.”

“Not without my ten million.”

“This is extortion!” The Governor's eyes were burning.

“Funny word to use for a man who only wants his own money back.” Healy's smile was gone, and his own eyes had turned dark and cold.

My palms were starting to sweat just listening to them.

“You have no right to do this!” The Governor spoke through gritted teeth. “Our agreement does
not
include your marching into my city with a pack of wolves—”

“Our agreement”—
Healy's tone shut the governor up in an instant—“did not include a lot of things that wound up happening.”

Silence. The Governor took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself.

“The agreement, Captain Healy . . . is based on mutual interest. If those interests diverge, I will be forced to dissolve it—and seek a military solution to the problem of piracy.”

“With the forty men you've got left in that garrison? Best of luck, sport. Or have you forgotten that you lent all your muscle out to Roger Pembroke and he hasn't gotten around to giving it back?”

The Governor's eyes narrowed. His temper was rising again. “You set me up! Didn't you? You planned all along to march in here the moment I—”

“No!”
The sudden fury in my uncle's voice made my heart race. The Governor shrank back in his chair as Healy leaned in over the table, looking like he might leap from his seat and attack at any second.

“I keep my promises,” Healy spat. “Even to people who don't deserve it. My men are here by circumstance, not design. And do you know why? Because your golden boy Pembroke was hanging children in the public square down in Pella, and the price of my stopping it was banishment. I've spent the days since then cleaning up the mess you all left with your greed and stupidity.”

“What mess?”

Healy shook his head. “I warned you not to invade.”

“Nonsense!” blurted the Governor. “You sat in that council and told us you could do it!”

“I said I
could.
I didn't say it was wise. In fact, I told you the opposite: that Pella was easier to take than it was to keep, that the Ripper needed to be dealt with first, and that it was anyone's guess where those Cartager men-of-war might be when the attack came. But you didn't listen. Because Pembroke had whispered a sweet story in your ear about taking Pella before the gold trains came in, and gorging yourselves on riches by year's end. Now it's blown up in your face.”

The Governor snorted. He sat up straight in his chair, squaring his shoulders and puffing his chest out. “Nothing's blown up in anyone's face, other than you. Pembroke got the job done. Pella's ours with minimal casualties. And the gold trains will come in soon enough.”

Healy stared at the Governor for a moment, searching the man's haughty scowl.

“Oh, my.” Healy gave a dry chuckle and shook his head. “You're completely in the dark, aren't you?”

“About what?”

“The reason we couldn't find Ripper Jones before the invasion was because he'd gone to Pella. To cut a deal with
Li Homaya
for my head. When the attack came, they were already out to sea with two Cartager men-of-war.”

The Governor's haughty look vanished. “Where are they now?”

“We sank both men-of-war on the Fangs. But
Li Homaya
and the six hundred Short-Ears with him made it to shore. Right now, they're marching down the coast to retake Pella by land. My guess is they'll be there by tomorrow. Pembroke won't know it until the guns start firing—and when they do, he'll find out in a hurry just whose side the people of Pella are on. It won't be yours.”

The Governor's shoulders were sagging. His mouth hung open in a look of shock.

“There's more,” said Healy. “The Ripper's still out there. I couldn't control him, and I couldn't kill him. He's a wounded animal at the moment, but I'd bet my last coin he'll go all in and launch the raid he's been itching to pull for years. That means either Edgartown or Sunrise. And unlike
my
men, when he shows up, he won't just be looking for a hot bath and a drink.”

The Governor was fully deflated by now, like a sail that had gone slack in the wind. “Oh, my Savior . . . ,” he whispered to himself, his hand over his mouth. When he raised his eyes to meet Healy's, they were anguished and pleading.

“You've got to do something. Get your men back on the water. You've got to stop him!”

“My ship barely floats. And my men need to get paid. We left Pella before they saw a copper for their troubles. I promised them that ten million to make up for it. If I don't put it in their hands before I ask them to lift another finger, they'll vote me right out. All I can promise you by way of help is that if Ripper Jones comes knocking at Edgartown's door, they'll answer it. But if you haven't treated them square, they might just decide he's a more profitable ally than you are.”

The Governor was reduced to helpless stuttering. “I-I-I . . . can't believe this.”

“Nor can I. But here we are.”

Healy let him sit there for a bit, staring at his hands. Then my uncle nodded in the direction of the door.

“On your way out, please tell the waiter I'd like another drink.”

It took the Governor a moment to realize he was supposed to leave. He somehow managed to get to his feet and stagger out.

“Shame about that one,” said Healy after he'd left. “Had a nice little thing going until he got too greedy. But then they always do.”

I got the sense that a lot of things had just been explained, if only I was clever enough to understand them. But I wasn't. My head was swimming from trying to get a handle on all of it.

“What was your agreement with the Governor?” I asked Healy.