Authors: Scott Mebus
Sorcerer's Secret (28 page)
Outside the bank, Caesar walked briskly to a dark corner of the street. There, a figure waited.
“How did he take it?” the figure asked.
“Pretty well, all things considered,” Caesar replied. “We'll find out when the time comes. For now, it's back to the scorpion's pit for me!”
“Be careful, Caesar,” the figure said, stepping into the light to reveal the concerned face of Peter Stuyvesant. “Kieft is no dummy.”
Caesar smiled. “I'm always careful, Peter,” he said, tipping his fedora. “But it's nice to know you care.”
T
he former prisoners stood over the sailors and redcoats, who were gathered in a group in the middle of the deck. The revolt had been brutal but quick, and the ship was now theirs. Soka felt a flush of pride as she walked back onto the deck with Rory at her side. She had set this in motion. Her power still didn't feel a hundred percent under her control, but at least it was manageable, if she followed Perewyn's instructions.
he former prisoners stood over the sailors and redcoats, who were gathered in a group in the middle of the deck. The revolt had been brutal but quick, and the ship was now theirs. Soka felt a flush of pride as she walked back onto the deck with Rory at her side. She had set this in motion. Her power still didn't feel a hundred percent under her control, but at least it was manageable, if she followed Perewyn's instructions.
She'd left Tammand in the admiral's quarters, where Cornelis was seeing to his wound. She didn't know what to think about what her brother had done. She was happy Rory had been spared the guilt that came with taking another's life, but she couldn't bring herself to forgive Tammand just yet. The wound still hurt.
One of the Raritans ran up to her, his face white. “Come quick!” he ordered. “It is Perewyn! He's been hurt!”
Soka followed him quickly, running to the side of the ship where the medicine man sat, leaning against the railing. Perewyn smiled when he saw her, but she could see right away from his red-stained belly that the wound was serious. She knelt down beside him as Rory stood behind, awkwardly trying to be a comfort to her.
“I am proud of you, Soka,” Perewyn whispered, smiling even as he coughed. He wiped his mouth and his hand came away flecked with blood. “So very proud.”
“You can't just leave me,” Soka cried, her eyes overflowing. “I need your help.”
“Don't be scared,” Perewyn told her, weakly patting her hand. “You have powerful friends . . . I have done all I can. I am ashamed that we pulled away for all those years. We never should have hid ourselves like frightened children. But it is all right. I am proud, again. I am proud.” With that, his eyes grew blank as his hand fell away. Soka bowed her head, tears dripping onto his bloodstained chest. It was she who was proud, she thought fiercely. Proud to have known such a fine man. She would take this pride with her and make it the backbone of everything she was. That was Perewyn's gift to her.
A
half hour later, Rory dropped down into the schooner, joining Bridget, Soka, and Fritz on the small sailboat. De Vries and Cornelis had decided to stay behind to guide the ship back to the boroughs. They would use this prison ship in their battle against Kieft, turning it back into the warship it once was and fighting the First Adviser with his own weapons. Tammand also remained on the ship, and he seemed to have awoken from his stupor. He kept staring at Cornelis, amazed that a newcomer god had risked his life for a “savage.” Rory could tell the Munsee would be thinking hard about where he stood in the battle to come. But it was the brief conversation that Tammand had with Soka that gave Rory the most hope. He could hear Tammand's promisesâthat he would win back her respect if not her love. Soka waved him off, but Rory could tell she was touched. Maybe that was a wound that would heal someday. They'd have to wait and see.
half hour later, Rory dropped down into the schooner, joining Bridget, Soka, and Fritz on the small sailboat. De Vries and Cornelis had decided to stay behind to guide the ship back to the boroughs. They would use this prison ship in their battle against Kieft, turning it back into the warship it once was and fighting the First Adviser with his own weapons. Tammand also remained on the ship, and he seemed to have awoken from his stupor. He kept staring at Cornelis, amazed that a newcomer god had risked his life for a “savage.” Rory could tell the Munsee would be thinking hard about where he stood in the battle to come. But it was the brief conversation that Tammand had with Soka that gave Rory the most hope. He could hear Tammand's promisesâthat he would win back her respect if not her love. Soka waved him off, but Rory could tell she was touched. Maybe that was a wound that would heal someday. They'd have to wait and see.
Everyone knew Kieft was sailing their way, so the prisoners scurried all over the ship, hoisting the sails and preparing to raise anchor. Rory and his friends would not be aboard, of courseâthe risk was too great. They would be sailing back to Mannahatta to search for the last piece of Van der Donck's diary. But first they had to read the pages Rory had taken from the admiral's quarters. Once they'd pushed off the side of the ship and were sailing across New York Bay at a decent pace, Rory pulled out the journal. Five was the number written on the top page, and Rory thought about what they'd read so farâAdriaen's decision to listen to Kieft's plan to save them after the fading of gods like Peter Minuit; the secret mortality of Kieft's manservant Henry, who might or might not be the Hennessy kids' father; and the start of Kieft, Adriaen, and Henry's journey to some remote place where they would make their plea to the land. The pages Rory was holding were the fifth and last part of Adriaen's journal; the fourth section waited somewhere on Mannahatta, in the home of someone the Fortune Teller had called the Swindler. Well, it wasn't as if he'd never flipped ahead to the last pages of a book before, Rory thought as he began to read aloud.
The pain I feel as I relive this experience cannot be described. I cannot help but feel that Kieft somehow tricked me, tricked all of us. He did not sacrifice as I sacrificed. I sometimes wonder if he knew everything that would happenâif somehow he'd seen what would be taken from both of us. I watch him stride around Mannahatta, drinking in the thanks of our people, and inside I burn. He is a great liar, I can feel it, and by following his lead, I fear I have done great harm. But nonetheless, I must put to paper exactly what happened so the truth will not be forgotten.
After the beast was gone and my tears had slowed, Henry took us farther in. Kieft's eyes had begun to take on a maniacal, covetous look I did not like. But I could not turn back now, not after what had just happened. It was too late for second thoughts.
After an hour's journey, we encountered the most wondrous sight. A beautiful garden, filled with plants the likes of which I had never seen, stretched into the distance. Everythingâthe trees, the plants, the flowersâthey towered over us as if we had somehow shrunk. I had never seen such flora and said so. Kieft smirked at me, lording his superior knowledge.
“Nor would you have,” he said, not deigning to look at me. “These have been long gone from the earth. But they live on here, since they are still remembered.”
“Remembered by whom?” I asked him.
“By me,” a voice cut in, floating out from the garden's interior. I leaped back, pulling out my sword. Henry likewise
jumped, arming himself, but Kieft did not move. A pair of
giant ferns parted to reveal a beautiful woman, dressed in European finery I had seen only in the portraits of royalty painted years before my birth. What was such a magnificently dressed woman doing here? I turned to see if my companions had any answers, and while Kieft was merely nodding warily at her, Henry's face was white as if he had seen a ghost. Tears welled up in his eyes.
jumped, arming himself, but Kieft did not move. A pair of
giant ferns parted to reveal a beautiful woman, dressed in European finery I had seen only in the portraits of royalty painted years before my birth. What was such a magnificently dressed woman doing here? I turned to see if my companions had any answers, and while Kieft was merely nodding warily at her, Henry's face was white as if he had seen a ghost. Tears welled up in his eyes.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I'm so sorry.”
“Do you know her?” I asked him, but he did not answer.
“Welcome to my garden,” the Lady said, smiling at us. As she looked at each of us, I thought I saw her eyes widen at the sight of Kieft, but I could not be sure. Perhaps I merely wanted her to be as wary of him as I was, especially in light of what happened next.
“What garden is this?” I asked her. “How did it come to be here?”
“This land has been here for far longer than mortal feet have tread upon it,” the Lady answered me. “I am the one who remembers and honors all that once lived here. They laid down roots, and I cherish those roots.”
“We wish to lay down roots, as well, Lady,” I told her.
“That is why we're here.”
“That is why we're here.”
“So you wish to make covenant with me?” the Lady asked, her face unreadable. “You will bear the price of agreement?”
“Not him,” Kieft interrupted, pointing at Henry, who flinched at his master's finger. “He is merely here to carry our baggage.”
“And yet he was the one who knew the way to my garden, was he not?” the Lady asked, smiling. “Do not worry, I will ask nothing of him. He has already done enough. No, it will be the two of you who will sign our pact. Though”âhere she looked troubled, peering intently at Kieftâ“are you certain you are able to make such promises?”
“We have brought the offering,” Kieft answered quickly; too quickly, I thought. “We carry the prayers of our people inside us.”
“You do, I see that,” the Lady said, shrugging away her mistrust. I let out a breath I did not know I had been holdingâit would have been disaster to be turned away after all we had gone through. The Lady pulled herself up to her full height and addressed both Kieft and me.
“What do you offer me, to bind your people to my soil?”
“We pledge our fidelity to the land, by our promise never to leave the boundaries set by our blood,” I intoned, as Kieft had coached me.
“We pledge our respect to the land, by our promise never to murder, by intent or deed, others of our kind,” Kieft chanted.
“We pledge our duty to the land, by our promise never to betray the duties given to us by our believers,” I finished. These were the promises Kieft had set outânow we had to hope she agreed to them.
The Lady raised her arms to the sky.
“I accept these promises. Now we must bind ourselves to them.”
Kieft pulled out his pipe, in which we'd placed a drop of blood from all our fellow gods and spirits. He pulled out a flint and lit a spark in the bowl. He breathed in deeply before passing it to me. I likewise inhaled, fighting not to cough at the acidic taste. Finally, I handed the pipe to the Lady, who sucked in the smoke that was laced with the essence of our people. She finished, lowering the pipe to stare at us through a cloud of smoke.
“And what of the gifts?”
“What gifts?” I asked, confused.
“To complete our deal. The two of you are your people's sponsors. I require gifts to finish our bargain. Did not your guide tell you?”
Henry wouldn't look at me, but even worse was Kieft's total lack of surprise. He'd known all along.
“I give you memory,” Kieft said. “My memory of my greatest spells. There is nothing more important to me.”
The Lady nodded, reaching out to grasp at the air in front of Kieft's face. He flinched, his jaw going slack, and then he recovered, his face wan.
“Thank you for your gift,” the Lady said. “It was nobly given.” She turned to me. “And now, you . . .
I could not stand it. Memory? That was what Kieft gave? And I was being asked for even more than the price I had already paid? I knew I should not, but I erupted all the same.
“Have not I given enough?” I yelled. “What more do I have?”
The Lady regarded me for a moment, her face showing more kindness than I would have expected, and then she nodded. “Your gift is also accepted. It was nobly given and will not be forgotten.”
She took a step back, smiling at us all. “Our pact is sealed, our agreement made. You are welcome on my shores. You are home. I will remember you.”
With that, she turned and disappeared into the lush undergrowth, and I never saw her again.
In the weeks since that day, I have often thought on our sacrifices. What Kieft gave up . . . I do not believe it. I have seen him work great magic since then. He seems to have lost none of his power. This leads me to only one conclusion: somehow he deceived the Lady, and that does not bode well for us all. There will be a reckoning, some day, of that I am sure. I take solace in the knowledge that our people are saved and we will endure on these new lands. There will be no more Peter Minuits fading into nothing, though some might say we are better off without a God of Shady Dealing. But that is for the mortals to decide, not for us gods. For my part, I hope to live side by side with the Munsees, growing with them, and living in peace in our new home. Then my sacrifice will be worth the pain it has caused me.
Rory finished reading and let the pages drop. He felt overwhelmed by what he had learned. Looking around, he saw that everyone else seemed equally lost. Soka's eyes were wide, as if something in those pages had struck a chord.
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