Over the Night Horizon

by Kacey Ezell

  “I’m sorry for your suffering at Immortal hands. Your confidence is safe with me,” de Graaf replied to the young Sister with an old soul.

  “Be kind to Lucia. For me. I worry for her, as she’s become besotted with you and your charm. I had no other lovers, and she should know love better than I did.” Amelia swallowed hard. “She’s my world.”

  Off in the distance, a carriage rattled up the street. De Graaf leaned over to Amelia to speak softly.

  “I swear on my Immortal soul, Lucia will be my queen if she wishes it. And if I ever come across the one who harmed you, shall I drive a stake in his heart as he did yours?”

  Amelia gasped, pressing her hand to her chest in horror. “Gods and saints,” she said loudly before pulling de Graaf close and whispering a name in his ear. It was one he was familiar with, a NightShip captain with a reputation less stellar than most.

  That done, Amelia sighed, comforted, and rifled through the small box of teas.

  “Oh, Mother Claude loves this one. And Brother Stephan this one. If you can bring more of these, I’ll make sure you’re compensated.”

  “I’ll keep the compound kitchen well stocked, if you give me a list every time I’m in port. My thanks for tending to Matthias. I truly didn’t harm him; I’ll be devastated if something happens to him,” de Graaf replied.

  Amelia smiled. “I think perhaps you’re a good man, sir. Even if you are Immortal.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 13

  Remy Elidon watched as the hired hand walked through the late afternoon streets lined with scorched warehouses and rooming blocks with a fistful of papers in hand. Periodically the Elidon servant paused with nail and hammer and tacked a notice up on a remaining wall. He also attached notices to the parcel office and the tea house that had narrowly escaped the flames. After the first few notices, the assistant’s own rage drove the hammer to sink the nail into the wood in one swift blow, and he moved on, working his way down the docks to the customs house and the new Source quarters. The hammer blows echoed in the streets, and curious bystanders followed in his wake to read the poster.

  “Effective Immediately, By Order of Marinport Council, all Immortals, Sources, and Supporters are confined to their ship, residence, or office. Associating with Immortals is subject to arrest. Working in the Source Trade is banned, for health, safety, protection of virtue, and good order.”

  * * *

  Matthias woke on the Leeuwin in the captain’s cabin. The ship rocked slightly in the breeze, moored steady. Next to him his lover and client, Johannes de Graaf, slept soundly on the silk sheets, naked and sprawled in deep dreams fed by Matthias’ blood. The sun had yet to drop in the sky. De Graaf would sleep for hours yet. Matthias recalled begging for the bite, just for a bit of Bliss. De Graaf had reluctantly obliged, offering the bite along with a vampire blood–laced glass of wine. Matthias had drunk the altered wine eagerly. The taste of the sweet wine still lingered in his mouth.

  Somewhere in the sleep of fever and delusion, the medic and the nun, he supposed, had dressed him in a gray cotton nightshirt. Matthias shucked it off and found his clothes neatly folded and set on the trunk at the foot of the bed. Once dressed, he drew the curtains around de Graaf’s bed and pulled the blinds open over one of the windows, allowing late day sunlight to flood into the room. The bright light set off Matthias’ aching head in a new round of misery. The sun, painful after so long living by night, seared his eyes. He blinked, adjusting to the brilliance, and set to a more important task.

  Methodically Matthias searched the cabin, sliding open the desk drawers of de Graaf’s cluttered desk, looking under papers and in boxes. A stash of gems, coins, and bills, maps, lists of inventory, letters from his shipping clients, and an invoice for ship repairs. The last one gave Matthias pause as he scanned the page and saw the sum.

  Merciful saints, that’s going to take a bite out of profit for some time.

  Next to the bill was the shipping invoice for the necklace to return to an unnamed buyer, and a price, a not insignificant price. Once again Duke Delsarte flaunted his wealth on his only daughter. The Elidons could have had it so easy if Delsarte would just step aside, if Remy had the same fortunes, but the Elidon name was seemingly cursed.

  Motivated by his father’s promises, Matthias moved on to the wall cabinets, one by one, working his way through. A set of keys sat on the desk and opened the locked doors. Nothing. Onward to the wardrobe.

  Success! A small flat wooden box lay tucked in a drawer under shoes and socks. Matthias slipped the wooden box out: glossy, black wood, and a small gold latch. A tiny key on the key ring solved that. Matthias paused. He was about to betray de Graaf, who’d shown him only kindness and trust.

  Yet bringing his mother’s cherished gem back home would make things right. Matthias lifted the lid and held his breath.

  There, on the black silk, the enamel, gold, and emerald necklace lay as if it, too, slept peacefully. Such an ornate thing. Lucia had looked so lovely in it, but that central stone didn’t belong in the hands of the Delsarte family. Matthias lifted the necklace from its seat and wrapped a shaking hand around the pear-shaped emerald. With a quick snap he broke the gem with its gold setting from the rest of the necklace. He pocketed the emerald and lay the necklace back in its place, locked the box, and tucked it away.

  Everything would be made right once more.

  * * *

  Matthias passed by Florian and Marit in the crew lounge.

  “Good evening.” He nodded at them, his hand in his pocket guarding the emerald.

  “Take care, Matthias,” Florian called as Marit walked over to Matthias.

  “Are you sure you’re well enough to be up? You had a rough time of it. Perhaps you should rest another day. We can send word to someone that you’re safe and sound.” Marit looked Matthias over and pressed her hand to his forehead.

  “Stay and have tea first,” Florian offered.

  “Thank you, but the fever’s broken; I’ll go back to my bunk at the Source House,” Matthias resisted.

  “Matts, you won’t,” Marit replied softly. “You can’t.”

  “I’m a free man. I can do as I like,” Matthias replied.

  “You don’t remember. The fire? The Source House was destroyed. Here, take this at least and book a room in the city, if you insist on leaving. Go. I’ll tell Johannes when he wakes.” Marit pressed coins into Matthias’ hand.

  Matthias shook his head. “I’ll be leaving the Sources, then. Maybe it’s a sign. I’ll tell Johannes on my own. Leave me be.” He walked through the Leeuwin for the last time, stifling the urge to run back to the cabin. It would be so wonderful to be back in his father’s good books. They could rebuild the Elidon shipping business as father and son, in triumph. He could return to the Naval Academy. It would be as if none of this had ever happened.

  The sun was setting by the time Matthias made his way off the ship. He quickened his step. He had to get to safety before Johannes awoke. Maybe the Leeuwin would be a hundred miles offshore before anyone bothered to look at the necklace.

  He hurried down the gangway past the workers packing up for the day. The Leeuwin’s hull was still a week away from being fully repaired. Maybe he should have waited ‘til the ship was about to leave to snap the emerald free. Too late now.

  Coming down the docks, a woman hurried towards the ship. Lucia? Matthias sidled away to pass her by without notice. And further away, Remy Elidon had paused at the door of a random building to watch as one of his lackeys hammered up a piece of parchment and moved on.

  “Matthias, you’re awake.” Lucia paused, her arms holding a bundle of fabric.

  “And you’re slumming down at the docks. You can have de Graaf. I’m done with him. Shall I say hello to your father? I’m sure he’d love to know his daughter’s selling herself to the NightShips. The necklace wasn’t enough, you had to have de Graaf too? A tip, he’s a good lover. I’m sure he’ll enjoy you for a while,” Matthias retorted.
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  “I considered you a friend at one time, Matthias. I’m not obligated to explain my presence to you; I’m only dropping off some goods to the Leeuwin, and the necklace isn’t mine anymore. You’re clearly addled with the illness, so I’ll ignore your horrible comments. When you’re clear of mind, you and I can discuss this,” Lucia fired back, her cheeks red with anger.

  “They’ll destroy you. I hope you enjoy ruining the Delsarte name. I hope they take you for every coin your father earns for handing you off as a favor to de Graaf.” Matthias spat on the dock at Lucia’s feet, spattering her boots.

  “I resent your insinuations. You’re terribly in error and out of line. Go home, Matthias. Be that another ship or back to your father, I don’t much care.” Lucia stepped away from Matthias and left him to his rage. Matthias wandered off, hollering as he walked down the docks.

  “Goodbye, Lucia,” he snapped with a bitter laugh and left her to her errands.

  Lucia looked over the notice posted on the wall.

  “Merde,” Lucia whispered. “Remy. Again.”

  * * *

  Matthias staggered to the main road, cursing and yelling at the Sources and Consorts congregating amid makeshift shelters and the post fire cleanup. Several ships, both NightShip and sailing vessels, were due in, and money had to be earned to have a place to lay one’s head and food in one’s belly.

  “Matthias!” Sanne called out, but he paid no mind to his friend. Former friend. Time to make a clean break, to bring honor back to the Elidon name.

  At the entrance to the dockyards, hired armsmen set up barricades. As Matthias approached, a businessman argued with the security force.

  “My goods are on those ships. I must be allowed to the docks to fetch my merchandise.”

  “Council orders, sir, the docks are closed to NightShip trade and to Consort trade.” The guardsman handed the businessman one of the notices Remy posted.

  “This will not stand. He’ll bring Marinport to a halt. This is a travesty. The fire was an accident. We never agreed to close the trade of goods, only of Sources and Consorts.” The businessman raised his voice as more and more of his colleagues massed at the barricades.

  “Matthias!” a voice called. Matthias looked in the direction of the voice. There, just past the barricade, was Remy. “My son!”

  The guardsman let Matthias by as Remy pressed his hand to the guard. Matthias watched him slip the guard a bribe. The two walked away from the outraged crowd.

  “Did you do as I asked?” Remy inquired.

  “I did. And I saw Lucia Delsarte boarding the Leeuwin. I doubt her father condones his daughter being the plaything of de Graaf.” Matthias replied.

  “Good work, Matthias,” Remy replied and offered up a flask to his son. Matthias relaxed into the carriage ride as the feelings of home and acceptance, love, and the promise of things to change washed over him.

  * * *

  Lucia ripped the notice from the wall and walked back to the guardsmen at the barricades they were hastily assembling.

  “What’s the meaning of this? By whose order specifically? Let me through this instant.” Lucia brandished the notice at the guards. They remained unmoved by her demands.

  “Sorry, miss. No Sources, no Consorts, absolutely no one may leave the docks without an official approval.”

  “I’m neither. I just came by to drop off some personal items for one of the crew. You have to let me by, I’m Duke Delsarte’s daughter. From Council. He’ll have something to say about all this,” Lucia begged. Remy was likely on his way over to her father’s office. This had to be Remy’s doing; he brought up his dislike of the NightShip trade every six months, trying to bring it down.

  “No exit. Return to your ship. We’ll get this sorted.”

  Lucia held her tongue, though she wanted very much to give the guard a solid verbal lashing. She walked back to the ship and up the gangway to the Leeuwin, a knot forming in her stomach. Florian stood watch as she paused to board.

  “May I?” Lucia hesitated at the threshold to the ship and called to Florian from the base of the gangway.

  “But of course. Wait in the crew lounge, I’ll go tell de Graaf you’re on board. Was everything all right with the guards?”

  “Thank you. It didn’t go well. I might be here a while. Council closed the docks to all but the essential workers and permits. They think I’m a Source. I can’t get past the blockade.” Lucia cringed.

  Florian nodded. “Johannes can sort this out. Marit’s in the crew lounge; they’re just sitting down to eat. If you need anything, please ask.”

  Lucia breathed out slowly in an attempt to calm the still-growing knot in her belly. “I’m sure it’s just temporary.”

  Florian gestured to the crew lounge, now lit with glowing lamps, and the few people sitting around tables, gossiping and dining. “The galley cook makes a fantastic stew. Go, eat.” Florian left Lucia at the steps down to the crew lounge.

  “I’m not sure I’m hungry,” Lucia replied as Marit spotted Lucia and waved her over. “Marit, I took loan of some clothes. Our lady’s maid washed, ironed, and mended them for you.” Lucia handed over the neatly tied bundle.

  Marit gestured at the empty seat. “Thank you. I hadn’t noticed they were missing ‘til Johannes told me. I’m sorry your dress was ruined. Maybe de Graaf can whisk us to Paris to do some shopping sometime.”

  Lucia drew in a deep breath as Florian set a bowl of stew before her. “So much ruin. And I’m stuck here. I mean, oh, not stuck. I just hadn’t planned on being a guest. I came by to drop off the clothes, and the barricade went up. They wouldn’t let me through.”

  “I’m sure it’s momentary,” Florian replied. “I’ll let you know if I hear any news. Surely we can reason with the guards at the barricades. The staterooms have been mostly repaired; you can rest there. I know it’s late. Marit, can you show our guest to a cabin?”

  Lucia followed Marit down the corridors of the Leeuwin, past the carved bannisters and polished brass.

  “De Graaf sleeps days, of course, so I imagine you’d like a space of your own. Unless you intend on staying with him?” Marit asked.

  “Oh, heavens no. A small cabin’s fine,” Lucia protested.

  “Johannes often talks about you when you’re away. He’s quite taken with you. No one here would pass judgement.” Marit stopped at the cabin door and tested the handle. The door swung open. Lucia followed Marit into the small room with the new hull and window instead of the shattered hole Lucia had seen earlier. It was almost seamless.

  “It’s cozy. It’s lovely. I wouldn’t mind resting ‘til Johannes wakes. I’ve been on my feet all day.” Lucia sat down on the bunk and rubbed her neck absentmindedly.

  Marit paused at the door. “You let him bite you, didn’t you?” the medic asked with a knowing grin.

  “Yes. I really shouldn’t have.” Lucia pressed her fingers to the now healed spot where de Graaf had bitten her throat.

  “Most of us crew onboard do so at one point or another. The trips can be long and exhausting. We try to get into port before the Immortals find themselves too hungry, but sometimes it’s necessity, and sometimes it’s want. They would never demand it of a guest.” Marit replied.

  “I think it was a onetime thing,” Lucia replied, unsure if she wanted to confide in the medic just yet. “I wasn’t intending to take a lover just yet.”

  “Ah! Well. I’ll play chaperone and keep you on the path, if you like,” Marit offered. “The room does lack a certain warmth, but there’s the lounge and the top deck when these walls seem too dull. No one expects you to spend the day hiding away in your cabin. Find us; we’ll have some work for you if you find yourself at loose ends.”

  Lucia peered out of a nearby porthole at the sunset over the ocean. The sea was lit with the dying rays of day, and the stars were appearing one by one in the night. “It’s fine. I hope I won’t be an imposition too long.” Lucia turned away from the window to face Marit once more.


  “You have bite marks, too.” Lucia gestured to Marit’s throat. “Johannes?”

  Marit shook her head, and her wavy auburn hair moved as she did, revealing older bites. “Florian the day navigator and I are the only mortals onboard. This is purely by my assent, and no, not the captain. Well, once when we were delayed a week into port. And after the pirate attack,” Marit confessed.

  Their conversation was halted by Florian tapping at the door. “Good evening, ladies. Lucia, there’s a parcel for you at the barricades, and de Graaf will be available shortly.”

  * * *

  Lucia joined Marit and walked down to the barricade near sundown, past the burned-out buildings. She kept a wary eye on the crowd at the barricade, an angry, shouting mob held back by the guardsmen. A pair of Eventide Sisters and a pair of the Brothers stood waiting. The crowd roared in fury as the guardsmen allowed them passage.

  “We need our cargo!”

  “Madame, how dare you sell yourself to the docks! For shame!”

  “That’s Lucia Delsarte!” A murmur went through the crowd as they recognized her. “Duke Delsarte’s own flesh and blood! How much do they pay you, miss? Your father can’t possibly be so poor as to give you up to the docks! I hope they pay well!” The shouting grew more lewd, ‘til Lucia turned red and tears welled up in her eyes. Marit wrapped her arm around Lucia.