Chronicles of the Dragon Pirate (47 page)

I took a deep breath. “Will it lead to our deaths?”

“The vision suggests it will, if not of all then at least of some, but if you let the chance slip from your fingers I see the cities of man becoming the kingdoms of rats and shadows...rats and shadows, with a long night of darkness that never ends. The way will come for you but once.”

I asked Jade what she meant but she remained silent, either gone or electing not to speak. Gripping the rosary in my hand I tried to wrap my thoughts around what she’d just said, but instead closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

In the quiet of the early morning I opened my eyes. Setting the rosary on the writing desk for safekeeping, I found the privy then looked out the porthole, wondering if aught was amiss or if I’d only woken from a fragment of my troubled dreams. The clouds in the eastern sky were turning reddish-pink in preparation of the sun’s arrival, though night still clung to the shadowed forest across the dark water. Tucking my shirt into my trousers, I drank warm water with the slight taste of waxy leather as my stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten in over half a day. I called aloud, “Jade?”

Star’s voice spoke from beside me. “She’s not here, but the Dark Sister who drank from you is with the other Shadowmen, arguing over where they’re going to sail.”

In that moment I understood why every ship had to have a captain as Tiger chimed in, “Jade attached a piece of herself to you like Smoke used to. Tomas, why does Smoke want to merge with Pepper? I miss her.”

“I miss her as well,” I said, unsure whether or not Tiger would understand my explanation. “You see, Smoke...”

Several loud booms came from the direction of the bow. A moment later I was thrown to the floor as the ship wildly rocked while whistling sounds became splintering wood and snapping rope sounds from above deck. The women in the next cabin began screaming. “Bloody bones,” I said as I got back up, the sound of pounding feet and Shadowmen calling out to each other coming from the deck above my head. “Are we under attack?”

“Verily so,” an older woman’s voice said, “and thou shalt help us repel it.”

“Who are you?” I asked as I backed a step away from the voice.

“Thy mistress, the one thou didst try poisoning with thy strength. I shalt see thou pay for thy crime but for now, thou shalt call thy younger sisters, tell them to take yon air-golem mermaids thou didst have them create, and throw grenadoes down upon thy enemies...”

She shrieked, and a moment later screamed in pain, the voice travelling away from the ship as if the Dark Sister was trying to flee, and I ran to the porthole and stuck my head outside. Captain Cholula’s warship ‘Sea Witch’ was some distance away with her gun ports open and her bronze cannons smoking, voices barking out orders to reload drifting out over the water. I immediately pulled my head back in. “Star, what’s going on?”

“Big sister’s killing the bad sister,” she replied, excitement in her voice.

“You should see it,” Tiger chimed in. “I wish I was bigger: I’d help rip the bad sister apart.”

“Stay with me,” I said as pounding feet came towards my door.

A moment later I heard a rattle and the door opened. “We’re in a lot of trouble,” Tommy said in way of a greeting, his leather clothes askew and his hat missing.

My wits were running with me for once. “I know: the Dark Sister told me to have the dragon-ghosts take over the air-golems and rain grenadoes down on the enemy.”

A look of relief swept over his dead white face. “We may get out of this yet. Come on,” and he motioned for me to follow him. I did, running down the corridor to the makeshift stairs leading up to the main hatch then past it towards the stern. There were crates and boxes strewn about as we ran towards a pair of doors ahead of us, the one on the left shut, but the one on the right open wide. He pointed towards it. “That one’s the weapons locker: the grenadoes are in there.” There was another roar as the Black Rose shivered while an evil whistling and more sounds of splintering wood came from overhead. “Bastards are raking us with chain shot to take out the rigging and clear the decks before they board us. Get yourself above deck as soon as you can.” He turned and ran towards the stairs.

I hastened into the cabin. It was a jumble of weapons: steel cutlasses, broken gunpowder muskets, pikes, a pair of artifact cutlasses sticking out from underneath a rusty chainmail shirt...and an open wooden crate filled with shiny black globes with blunted spikes sticking out in all directions. I picked one of them up to examine it. Even though I’d never seen one, Alfonzo had told me how grenadoes worked, the spikes being Artifact strikers designed to set off the frozen quickfire inside the globe, spraying anyone close by with small scraps of metal when it exploded. “Girls, I doubt the air-golems above survived, so form new mermaids but use the nets to hold these,” and I held up the grenadoe. “When I give the word, throw them one at a time at the deck near to several enemies, and the grenadoe will explode.”

Five voices told me they were ready, Star adding, “Tomas, who exactly are we going to throw them at?”

Fear was being replaced by a growing excitement. “That’s a very good question, but we’ve got to do this correctly or I’ll be in a lot of trouble.” I told the dragon-ghosts exactly what I wanted, and a moment later the air swirled around me, raising up enough dust that I began to sneeze. When I’d finished, five mermaids were hovering in the air before me, the nets in their hands now formed in a pocket large enough to hold their share. They began collecting grenadoes as I grabbed the rusty chainmail shirt and tossed it aside, grabbing the cutlasses by their bound leather hilts and shaking off the orange flakes.

“Tomas,” Star suddenly called out, “Tiger’s playing with hers.”

I looked up. One of the mermaids was throwing a grenadoe into the air and catching it, and I exhaled sharply. “Tiger, stop throwing it into the air. Grenadoes aren’t toys!”

“I’m sorry, Tomas,” Tiger said in a contrite voice as the mermaid caught the grenadoe and hung onto it. “I’m just having fun.”

“Once I give the word, you can have all the fun you want throwing them down and watching them explode.” I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Alright, let’s go.” I led the way out of the weapons locker, the five mermaid air-golems following me in a line as I strode through the hold to the stairs and climbed up, the stairs creaking as I reached the main deck and looked around.

The main deck was a shambles of shattered wood and shredded rope, the mast splintered but still holding though its spars that held the sails in place were in pieces, on the deck or dangling in what remained of the rigging. A Shadowman was leaning against the mast with both his legs gone at the knee, a rusty steel cutlass in his hand as he methodically hacked away at the splintered ends of green-yellow bone sticking out. Several others were dead, one with his head gone while the others had been torn to pieces, their blood, black as pools of ink, soaking into the greasy planks or dripping down into the hold below.

Tommy was standing beside the main hatch. “Several of the lads were knocked overboard, so they’re out of the fight even if they aren’t dead,” he said as he motioned towards the Sea Witch, who’d turned towards us with her decks full of men. “Get your dragon-ghosts out there or we’re all dead.”

At least a dozen Shadowmen remained on deck as I looked down at five faces looking up at me from the hold, taking another deep breath before I said, “Girls...primus.” They told me ‘aye’ in unison and then one by one shot out of the hatch and formed a line on Star, who was to lead them. They were small as children, each mermaid holding a grenadoe in one hand with a net full of them bulging at her side as Star led them forward in a line towards the Sea Witch, which was rapidly closing the distance between us. The Shadowmen’s faces turned to a hungry joy as across the water I heard Captain Cholula shouting orders, the sharpshooters at the rail and on the firing platforms making ready as the air-golems moved far enough away. I shouted, “Secundus!”

They flipped in unison and sped back towards the Black Rose, the Shadowmen shouting in alarm as the mermaids began throwing grenadoes at them. I leaped down into the hold as explosions rocked the deck above, the planks being torn apart along with the Shadowmen as I heard Brother Tristan bellow, “Hoy Tomas...get me out of here!”

My bare feet slipped on the greasy deck as I took off towards the corridor, stopping in front of the stall holding the monk. He was out as far as his chain would let him as I asked, “Where’s the key?”

“I’ve no idea,” he said as he eyed my cutlasses, “but lend me one of those and I’ll free myself, to be sure.”

I gave him the one in my right hand. “I need it back when you’re loose,” I said as the sound of a body hitting the lower deck came from somewhere behind me.

He took it and began hacking away at the wood post holding his chain in place as I spun around and ran back the way I’d come. At the foot of the stairs was the mangled body of a Shadowman, face down with his legs now ragged stumps and one arm gone, the rest of him shredded by jagged pieces of metal. I slid to a stop beside him and looked up. Explosions rocked the deck as the mermaids flitted back and forth, hurtling grenadoes with glee. Around me pieces of the deck were crashing down, leaving gaping holes large enough to put a foot through as I waited at the foot of the stairs for any of them coming after me in search of revenge.

A cold hand grabbed my ankle. I yelped, trying to pull my foot away but only succeeded in dragging the Shadowman with me, the deathly pale man baring his teeth as he tried pulling himself close enough to bite my leg. Near hysteria, I began whacking at his head with the Artifact cutlass, the Shadowman letting go of my ankle as he used his remaining arm to block my blows. I kept swinging, half severing his hand at the wrist then catching him across the temple, the black blade biting deep as dark blood began flowing out of the wound. His red eyes glazed over and began turning white as milk.

I was panting as I wrenched the sword free, staring wildly as another mangled Shadowman tumbled down the stairs. He landed face-up, staring vacantly at me for a moment before his eyes narrowed. I stabbed him hard in the eye, bone cracking as his body jerked and black blood began running from his mouth. I pulled the cutlass out, leaping out of the way as blood erupted like a water spout, coating his face as it dripped like ink onto the deck.

Then Tommy came down the stairs. His face had pieces of metal embedded into his cheek with a long shard sticking out of his right eye, a trickle of black blood trailing down like tears. His right hand was hanging by a shred of skin, and as he dragged his right leg behind him I saw several pieces wood sticking out of his flesh, his foot twisted at an unnatural angle. But his left hand held a rusty steel cutlass while his good left eye fixed on me in malevolent hatred. “The Dark Sister told you to rain grenadoes on our enemies,” he said in a voice garbled from the metal sticking into his mouth. “No one’s heard from either of them since one fled screaming while the other said she was going to try to help.” He snarled, “Where are they?” I shook my head as I unconsciously began backing up, Tommy raising his steel cutlass as he reached the lower deck. “I may be awkward with my left hand, but I mean to teach you who your enemy truly is before you die.”

Tommy moved faster than I’d thought he could and swung at my head. I blocked then parried low as he went for my knees, bumping into a table then leaping out of the way as he swung for my face. I began circling around him, Tommy awkwardly moving to follow, and suddenly I rushed in to swing at his bad leg, hoping to knock him down. Tommy ignored my blow and swung at my head. But I saw it coming and ducked away, my sword making a piece of metal ping as the tip bounced off it while Tommy unbalanced himself as he wildly swung again. I took a step back.

Then fell backwards as I tripped over an overturned chair. Tommy smashed the chair with his cutlass as I rolled away, rusty steel shrieking as it hit a pewter tankard beside it on the deck, which he smacked away with the flat of his blade as he moved towards me, the cutlass raising again to slash down.

Suddenly we both stopped moving and looked towards the corridor. Like a placid brown cow become a raging bull, Brother Tristan slammed into the Shadowman, knocking him onto his back as I rolled to my feet. Taking the Artifact cutlass in both hands I stabbed it downwards into Tommy’s chest, missing the heart as he awkwardly slashed at me with steel. The dull blade bruised my hip but did nothing else as I stabbed downward into his chest again. “Will you just die?” I screamed at him as I pulled out the blade, slapping his blade away then stabbing down with all my might. Bone cracked...

Then Tommy stared at me in astonishment as black blood began flowing from his mouth. I pulled the blade out of his chest with a sucking sound and more blood followed, his eyes glazing over as the redness began to leave them. I gasped for breath in relief as much as in effort as Brother Tristan handed me the other cutlass. “Tomas, thank you for saving my life.”

“Thank me later,” I said as I looked past him towards the rickety stairs. Five Shadowmen, led by the one with his eye sewn shut, were hobbling or crawling down the stairs. “Can we get into the captain’s cabin and bar the door until the Captain Cholula’s men get here?”

“Won’t help you, boyo,” the one-eyed Shadowman called out. “We’re doomed, but we’re taking you to hell with us no matter where you run.”

From above them Star’s voice called out, “No you’re not: Tiger, play like you’re a shark with grenadoes in both hands.”

“Now that sounds like fun,” Tiger’s voice said from the same place.

I didn’t understand what was happening but Brother Tristan did, the brown robed monk stepping between me and the Shadowman as he stared at me with sad eyes. “May my sins be forgiven,” he said as, over his shoulder, I saw a mermaid with grenadoes in both hands plunge downwards at the Shadowmen on the stairs.

The air roared in fire. We were blown backwards, Brother Tristan’s body shielding me as bright red blood sprayed from his mouth, his body jerking like a puppet on strings before the strings were cut and he fell next to me. I stared at him, too stunned to move even though I knew I had to gain my feet and flee, his eyes open wide in death, and as darkness stole over me I tried to move my hand to close them as they needed to be closed. But even that last, small act of dignity was denied him as my own eyes closed and I knew no more.