by King, Bella
I shrug. “It’s alright. We’re only here because of the cave.”
“The cave?”
“I guess nobody has told you that story,” I say, smiling and taking a puff of my cigar.
“No.”
“Well, when I was much younger, long before the Devil’s Kingdom was founded, I used to come down here to blow off steam. I would throw rocks into the water,” I explain. “One day, when I was pissed off about something, I forget what, I picked up the closest thing to me and chucked it off the dock. That turned out to be one of an old sailor’s boots he had taken off to fish out a pebble.”
Zella laughs. “He must’ve been pissed at you.”
I laugh with her, slowing my pace. “Oh yes, he was furious. He made me go into the water and fish it out. The problem was that it had gotten sucked under the dock by the tide, and I had to swim all the way underneath it to find the damn thing. That’s when I came upon the entrance to the cave.”
“The Devil’s Kingdom,” Zella says, her eyes lighting up.
“Correct. I hadn’t thought of a name for it yet, but I came there often to think. Eventually, when the organization grew, I had the cave expanded and made into what it is today.”
“Impressive,” she mutters.
I shrug. “It’s just business, but I do like it down there. You get a sense of privacy and seclusion that makes it easier to think clearly.”
“Unless you’re sleeping in a hole in the ground,” she says with a bite to her words.
“I’m having someone refit the room with a special area for you,” I assure her. “You’ll have more room.”
“Well, your bed is pretty comfy,” she says.
I hold up a finger. “You know the rules.”
She doesn’t say anything in response, but I know she’s not going to stop trying. I’m the one who started the sexual advances, but she’s grabbing onto them as though it were her only means of survival. She must be up to something.
We arrive at the shipyard, the captain already waiting beside his massive cargo ship. Workers are all over the place, unloading containers filled to the brim with the key ingredient in the manufacturing of Black Sugar, and smoke floats through the air, much thicker than what’s coming off the end of my cigar.
“Javelin,” I say, extending a hand to the captain. “It’s good to see you.”
Javelin smiles, wrinkles of age and sun damage appearing on the sides of his eyes. He shakes my hand, the roughness of his like sandpaper against my skin. He speaks in a strong voice, throaty and deep, no doubt created by the smoke on the ship and the salt in the air. “Mr. Morte, I see you’ve brought a guest with you today.” He winks at Zella. “You’re in good hands.”
I chuckle. “She’s my new personal assistant.”
Javelin shakes Zella’s hand with surprising gentleness, maintaining eye contact with me. “What happened to the old one?”
“She died,” I answer bluntly.
Javelin displays a slightly amused expression, but it’s hard to see his mouth move under the thick white mustache he wears. “Well, let’s hope you keep a closer eye on this pretty young lady,” he says with a chuckle.
Zella seems unphased by any talk of her possible demise, and I start to wonder if she’s not some sort of sociopath. I have sociopathic tendencies myself, but I’m not completely devoid of emotions. I still value my survival.
“Let’s go up the bridge and talk,” I suggest. “I’d like to take a look at some of those signals you received.”
“Very well,” Javelin says, stepping to the side and motioning with his heavy arm. “Right this way.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zella
Javelin hands Diavolo and I a cup of coffee as we huddle close to the communications center in the bridge of the cargo ship. From up here, all the people hurrying around on the desk look like marbles rolling across a ship as it rocks gently in the water.
Javelin lays his hand down on a computer, causing the little green dot to jump up for a moment before returning to its usual path on the screen. “We got some odd messages from our sister ship, the Black Diamond, only a few minutes before it went silent. We couldn’t even pick it up on the radar after that,” he explains.
“So, it disappeared entirely?” Diavolo asks, frowning deeply as he grips the little paper cup of coffee in his hand almost tight enough to crumple it.
“Vanished without a trace,” Javelin replies solemnly. “But you should listen to the message before drawing conclusions. It’s rather interesting.”
Diavolo turns to me. “How about you step outside for a bit, get some of that nice ocean air while we discuss business, huh?”
I frown. “Why can’t I listen?”
“Private business,” he replies.
I look toward Javelin for support, but he looks away, unwilling to go against Diavolo’s iron ruling.
“Fine,” I say sharply, turning around so quickly that the coffee in my cup sloshes all over my scabbed hand. I ignore the sting as I walk out the bridge door into the smokey air.
The door closes behind me, locking me out of the private conversation. I’d love to know what issues Diavolo is having with disappearing ships, but I won’t be able to eavesdrop unless there’s another way into the bridge.
I don’t know much about boats, but I do know that on one this large, there must be other ways to get around.
I take a sip of my coffee and slowly walk out of Diavolo’s view. He’ll either come after me and insist that I stay in sight or he’ll be too immersed in what Javelin has to show him to notice me slipping away to continue with my spy work.
I toss the rest of my coffee onto the textured metal floor, crumpling the paper cup and shoving it in my back pocket as I take longer steps around the back of the bridge. If there’s a vent or even a little hatch I can get in from, I’ll take the chance to find out what the big mystery is. Any dirt on Diavolo can be beneficial when it comes time to confront him about Olesya.
A strong gust of air nearly blows me over the edge of the railing as I cross around to the back of the bridge. I grip the peeling red paint on the railing, holding myself steady against the ventilation exhaust on the back.
There’s a door beside the vent, one with a large metal circle to unlock it. I stretch my hand from the railing to the door, making the connection and pulling myself out of the stream of warm air. I’m not sure where this door leads, but it’s better than waiting outside without a clue as to what’s going on.
I turn the wheel. It shutters and groans as the rust pops loose from the rotating connection. It must not have been open for a long time. That, or the salt from the ocean has rusted it shut.
I use a little more power, and the door pops open, allowing me to swing it open and step inside.
It’s dark, and it smells like rotting wood, but I don’t mind it if it allows me to listen in on Diavolo and Javelin. I step into the darkness, closing the door behind me.
My hands feel along the wall, searching for a light switch. I’m pretty sure this room doesn’t connect with the main bridge, but they share the same wall. I know that because of the voices murmuring up ahead. Judging by the deepness of both voices, they belong to Diavolo and Javelin.
My foot hits a stiff, rubbery object on the ground, and I stumble over it. Squinting, I can barely make out a bit of a circular shape. It must be a buoy, which means I’m in a storage area.
I move closer to the voices and see a small shred of light floating in the air in front of me. Standing taller, the single shred turns into several, and I can make out the shapes of two men standing side by side. I can see straight into the bridge!
I slip off my high heels, holding them against my bosom as I rush toward the vent. My heart thuds fast beneath my ribs, blood pumping to my cheeks as I begin to make out the conversation.
“Oh, so you think that some tiny little passenger boat took down a half-million-ton cargo ship?” Javelin asks, clearly unconvinced.
Diavolo
shakes his head. “They could’ve boarded the ship.”
“And then what? The crew would’ve ripped them to shreds. They’re trained for pirates.”
“Maybe they weren’t ordinary pirates,” Diavolo replies.
“Then, who?”
There’s a pause.
“The same people who brought down the other ship five years ago,” Diavolo replies.
I gasp, fighting to remain calm and silent as the two continue speaking. Five years ago, my sister disappeared around the same time. It’s an odd coincidence, but perhaps it’s not a coincidence at all.
Javelin walks across my view, blocking me from seeing Diavolo’s troubled face. “And you think they came back five years later, for what reason?”
“I don’t know,” Diavolo replies. “But I find it odd that not a single person who was aboard the original ship was ever found.”
“Not so uncommon for a sunken ship.”
“Bodies float, and we had planes sweeping the area for weeks afterward,” Diavolo says.
“I know the sea, and when it swallows something, it doesn’t waste anything by spitting it back up,” Javelin replies.
There’s another pause, then Diavolo speaks again. “Can you play the recording?”
“Sure thing.”
I adjust my footing, squatting down to get comfortable and to lean against the vent. The crackle of the recording sends a shiver down my spine as Javelin turns it on, but I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the prospect of hearing what could’ve happened to my sister five years ago.
That would mean Diavolo had nothing to do with it, something I can’t yet stomach. I need to blame someone for this, and he’s the one who brought her into the Devil’s Kingdom in the first place. He’s still to blame, one way or another.
“Black Diamond to unknown vessel, do you read me? Over,” the recording chirps.
“Black Diamond, this is the Olesya. Please stop immediately. We need –”
“Play that back,” Diavolo barks.
“Excuse me?”
“Play it back. Play the beginning back,” he shouts.
My heart is hammering so fast in my chest as the name sinks into my brain. The oncoming ship that is responsible for the Black Diamond’s disappearance is named after my sister, but how? What in the hell is going on?
“Black Diamond to unknown vessel, do you read me? Over,” the recording says again.
“Black Diamond, this is the Olesya. Please stop immediately. We need medical assistance for a crew member on board. Over.”
The recording goes silent.
“Play the rest of it,” Diavolo demands, mirroring my excitement.
“There’s nothing more. They sent this recording out before they dropped off the radar,” Javelin explains. “Does it mean something to you?”
Diavolo is silent for a long time before he speaks. “It means this goes a lot deeper than I originally thought.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Diavolo
Zella is a huge risk at this point. Her sister is somehow involved in the disappearance of the Black Diamond, which means she’s almost certainly responsible for the original ship she was on that disappeared too. I need to get the truth from Zella before she undermines my entire operation.
I look out the window, but she’s not standing there with her cup of coffee like she was before.
I curse under my breath, not bothering to say goodbye to Javelin as I barge out of the room in search of Zella. I must find that woman before she stirs up trouble like Olesya.
My heart stops for a moment when I don’t see Zella, but it continues beating when she rounds the corner, holding her high heels in her small hands, her cheeks flushed like she’s been running.
She spots me, turning even pinker as she comes forward.
“Where were you?” I ask, frowning at her.
“I spilled my coffee, and I wanted to get another one, but you guys were too busy,” she says, stopping to put her shoes back on. “But my feet hurt, so I took my shoes off. Then I heard you coming out the door, so I figured it would be better to ask you for coffee instead.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “Don’t run off again.”
“Something wrong?” she asks, looking up at me with an impossibly pouty face and big eyes.
I’d like to kiss her face for some reason, to taste those plump lips and to sink into her body, but I hold back. This isn’t the time or the place for any of that. I need information out of her, not sex.
“There’s nothing wrong,” I assure her. “Let’s go back and get some food, shall we?”
“Sure,” she says, her tone surprisingly happy for someone kept waiting outside in the cold.
Her positivity takes the edge off some of the truth that I discovered, but it doesn’t dissolve my suspicion of her entirely. She might seem sweet and innocent, and she might obey me completely, but there’s still something wrong with her. Her ties to Olesya can’t be by chance.
And the boat that the Black Diamond encountered being named Olesya can’t be by chance either. There’s no reason why our cargo ship would send a recording out of their communication unless they wanted it to be used to identify what brought them down.
I walk beside Zella, finding myself wanting to believe that she has nothing to do with this. It’s possible that I’m even mistaken as to who she really is, but that’s not something I can know without a direct confrontation, and I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.
I need to know more.
“Diavolo?” Zella asks as we approach the entrance to the Devil’s Kingdom again.
“Yes?”
“What did Javelin mean about your last assistant?” she asks.
“Jenny was murdered,” I reply flatly. “Which is why you need to stick close to me.”
“Yes, but does that happen often? Do people just… disappear?”
I slow my walk, thinking back to the two cargo ship disappearances in the span of five years. It’s not that many people, considering how many deaths there are among our adversaries, but then again, I’ve never kept a large crew. The Devil’s Kingdom operates at minimum capacity, so losing even a few people is significant.
I sigh. “People die sometimes, but I’ll keep you safe.”
“Who else has died?” she asks, refusing to let it go.
“People.”
“Have other ships disappeared?”
I stop dead in my tracks, and I watch as her face goes pale with fear. “What are you getting at?” I ask.
She shrugs, once again trying to play off her questions as mere curiosity. “I don’t know. I just thought that it was kind of spooky.”
She’s not fooling me with the act of innocence. I need to get her somewhere private so that I can question her thoroughly about her involvement, but first, I want to meet with Slate and figure out if a thirteenth member was ever supposed to be at the initiation. He might be able to answer my question for me.
“Let’s go,” I say, walking again. “And no more questions. This is private business.”
She shrugs, hurrying alongside me as I leave the shipyard and return to the port.
I don’t have the chance to shame her further for being nosey before I spot the shape of a man running toward us from far into the mist. My hand instinctively goes for my gun, but I don’t pull it until I can see his face.
It’s Slate.
“Sir,” he pants, slowing down as he comes closer. He stops, placing his hands on his knees and bending over. He gasps for breath as though he’s been running for days to reach me.
“Spit it out,” I say, stepping toward him and motioning for Zella to stand back.
Slate looks up at me, his eyes wide with fear. “Another ship, sir. It’s gone.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zella
My mind is racing just as fast as Diavolo’s is, trying to figure out why the stitches that hold reality together have started to break. When one popped, others followed quickly, and now I don’t
know what to believe.
Is Diavolo innocent?
Is my sister somehow alive? If so, why hasn’t she contacted me all these years? Surely, she could’ve just shown up in person without anyone seeing her, especially if she’s already been creeping around, making her name known.
Diavolo has locked me in his bedroom, a quick takeout meal on my lap. I’m too nervous to eat any of it, but I’ve tried poking at a few vegetables to put something in my stomach. I’m hungry, but when my mind is buzzing, it’s impossible to eat.
I bite at my nails instead of my food, thinking of the possibilities. Diavolo is off exploring what the disappearance of the second cargo ship means, and I’m sitting in his bedroom like a lame duck, waiting for some sort of conclusion to just present itself to me.
This all seems impossible with the information I have, and I can’t just kill Diavolo when he knows so much. There’s too much for me to dig into before that can happen.
I take another bite of my food, chewing it forever before swallowing because I can’t seem to produce enough saliva in my mouth to get it down. I can barely taste anything either, despite the aggressive amount of salt they put in the food.
I give up on the food and put it on the bed beside me, retreating into the bathroom to take another shower. I don’t need one, but the warm water is always comforting. It’s chilly down here in the Devil’s Kingdom, but that’s the consequence of building your fortress in a cave under the ocean.
The mirror greets me with an uncomfortable version of myself. I can’t believe I look so jagged and torn. I didn’t look anything like this five years ago. I was smiling and bright, always happy before Diavolo stole my sister away from me. I’ve become a person who I would never want to know, a jaded whisper of the young woman who swore she would do anything to get her sister back.
And now, who am I?
I lean against the sink, wrapping my fingers around the cold porcelain and wrinkling my nose at my own face. I can see the toll that my hatred and crimes have taken on me and the slow grinding of my soul at the insurmountable odds that I’ve managed to push through. I don’t look pretty anymore, and I certainly don’t feel pretty.