Flintlock (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  “Scars and bruises are nothing to me,” the man snapped. “Besides, I don’t trust Elvish medicine.”

  Leaf exchanged a glance with Barren.

  “Albatross, did I hear correctly that you were shot this evening?” he turned to Cove. Barren was surprised to hear the doctor call Cove by that name. Only pirates of Silver Crest used that name.

  “You heard correctly, Dr. Newell,” said Cove.

  “Then may I be allowed to do my job and see that you are alright?”

  “I am afraid the Elf has already beat you to it, though perhaps it is a good thing, as you have probably had little experience with these,” he produced the bullet Leaf had extracted from his side and held it up for the doctor to see.

  Barren expected the doctor to take the bullet and examine it, but Newell just stared and then swallowed, looking down at his feet.

  “I know what you’re doing, ambassador,” the doctor said, and then he released his breath. “I have had time to consider why you have brought this upon me, but it must be that you suspect I’ve experienced something like this before.”

  Barren looked from one man to the other, confused. Cove hadn’t been at all forthcoming about why he’d decided to show the bodies to John Newell of all people, but suddenly Barren understood.

  “What’s going on here, Cove?” Barren asked, but Cove didn’t look at Barren. He kept his eyes on John expectantly.

  “John Newell once served as the doctor of Jess Reed's crew,” said Cove, not taking his eyes off the doctor. Barren was stunned. Perhaps Alex had given Cove this information.

  “You knew my father?”

  John didn't say anything for a long moment. “It is not a part of my life that I want to remember.”

  Barren flinched and felt his face grow red, though he couldn't tell if it was anger or embarrassment that colored his features.

  “I quit because I was afraid to die, and because every chance he got, Jess would drag us into a new fight.” He seemed older now and still afraid. His voice trembled. “You get tired of seeing your friends die. I got tired of failing to save them.”

  And no one could say much to that.

  The old man hunched forward, his head down. He took a breath in, his whole body seeming to fold inward, and then he exhaled and reached into his pocket, extending his hand to the ambassador. “These were found in the wounds. There were several, and I’m not sure I got them all.”

  Barren moved toward Cove and looked at the bullets in his palm. They were all the same, coppery in color with strange black veins. Barren’s brows knitted together and he felt the contents of his stomach turn to lead. These were the same as the bullet that pierced Cove. Panic filled him. What did this mean for Cove? Barren looked at the ambassador, but Cove didn’t seem to share that concern.

  “You were right,” said the doctor. “I have seen this before, though I’d hoped I was wrong. No one wants to relive what we’ve seen these weapons do. No Elder, no pirate of Silver Crest, and not me.”

  “What are they? Where did they come from?” Cove demanded, obviously done waiting for answers.

  “They are weapons powered by dark magic. Vacair is the Elvish term,” Newell said without hesitation. “They were a problem before, back when Jess was alive and fighting in the Ore Wars. The stories you’ve heard about him intercepting ships to keep the war from progressing are true, but his greatest wish was to ensure that these weapons didn’t spread. You’ve seen what they’ve done by themselves…well imagine what they would do with a Lyric powering them.”

  “What?”

  “You heard right. Cathmor had power over the Lyrics, a power that, thankfully, Tetherion has never come to know. During the Ore Wars, he used these weapons to level entire islands. It was a massacre and over in seconds. Lyrics…they don’t even need weapons to use the bullets. They just use their minds.”

  “But why would they do such a thing?” What Barren was really asking was would his mother do such a thing, and had she?

  “If I had my guess, it wasn't by choice,” said Dr. Newell. “Though I never understood how Lyrics could be forced to do anything against their will.”

  “Why have these weapons resurfaced now?” asked Cove.

  “Perhaps Cathmor had some sort of store and Tetherion has discovered it,” said Dr. Newell. “Perhaps they linger in the dark markets…maybe it’s a fluke.”

  “Your fluke found its way to Arcarum tonight and shot Cove,” said Barren. “So what does that mean for him?”

  Dr. Newell hesitated. “I…have never seen anyone survive a vacair wound,” he took a breath.

  Silence followed.

  “How long does he have?” asked Hollow.

  “It is dark magic,” Dr. Newell replied. “He has as long as it wishes to give.”

  Barren found it strange that Cove hadn’t asked any of these questions Even now, when hearing that he might die from the wound he sustained this night, he seemed unnaturally calm.

  “What about the assassin?” asked Barren.

  “What?” Larkin was incredulous that Aethea was being brought up again, but it was important they speak with her since she’d been the one to wound Cove with the same bullets used against their brethren. She knew where they came from.

  “The assassin who was arrested tonight for trying to kill Tetherion. She had the bullets. We need to talk to her, find out where she got them. Cove, you can talk to her. Maybe she can lead us to someone who can help.”

  Cove shook his head. “It’s much harder than that, Barren. She will be convicted of high treason, and Tetherion won’t allow just anyone in to speak to her. We’d do better trying to figure out who she is and go from there. Besides, even if we were to talk to her, we don’t know her agenda. She could be working for the Commonwealth or the Octent. If either, exposing ourselves to her would make everything worse.”

  “Do we have that kind of time?” Barren ignored the guilt pulling at his heart. She’d already recognized him, but maybe that’s why Barren was pushing so hard to reach her, so he could silence her before she spoke up.

  “We don’t have a choice,” said Cove.

  “You can be sure of one thing,” said Dr. Newell. “If these weapons have resurfaced, one thing you won’t have on your side is time.”

  No, there was no time, because as Barren met Cove’s gaze, he already knew the ambassador was dying.

  ***

  Larkin couldn’t sit still, so she paced the room. She still didn’t feel like herself, and it had been hours since she’d discovered she had magic. What was she supposed to do now? If the Elders found out they would send her back to Maris, and she couldn’t be sure what her father would do if he knew. Was she supposed to tell Barren? That would require admitting that she’d left the ball to find her father, admitting that she’d been attacked, and consequently discovered by Ben Willow, Cove’s enemy. She should admit to those things. They were all things that put them in danger. But what held her back was others knowing what she was: a Lyric. Everything she knew about Lyrics was bad, from their magic to their tragic lives. If they weren’t evil, they were enslaved and used as sources for mortals to gain power. She would not be a slave.

  And yet that’s exactly what Ben would make her. What did he want with Barren’s compass anyway? If it was truly worthless, why would Ben want it? Most importantly, how did Ben know anything about it? If she wanted answers to these questions, she would have to tread carefully. Perhaps it was best to play into Ben’s hands, but she needed an advantage. Something as damning to him as her magic was to her. The only person she knew who might have anything on him was Cove Rowell.

  The door opened and she halted, facing Barren as he entered the room. She could tell by the look on his face that he was ready for a fight. He closed the door, sealing the tension in the room.

  “Do you want to explain yourself?” he asked.

  “Explain myself?”

  “Why you left the ball?” he said.

  She had no explanation she w
anted to give and her hesitation cost her.

  “Did you go in search of your father?” Barren demanded.

  “I didn’t meet my father,” her voice rose to fight his abrasive tone. It was the truth, even if her intentions had been dishonest.

  Barren stared at her, his gaze piercing, and she knew he didn’t believe her.

  “If you didn’t leave to meet him, why did you leave at all?” he asked. “You had a job to do and you failed.”

  She glared at him. That was unfair. “How dare you! You left your station to dance with an enemy! And after you told me not to!”

  “It didn’t stop you,” he hissed. “You stood up with every man who approached you.”

  “Oh, please,” she seethed. “You sound jealous!”

  “Jealous?” Barren laughed. “If you wish to return to Maris, I’ll gladly take you myself. Just say the word.”

  “This isn’t about going back to Maris!”

  “Isn’t it?” he said. “It is clear you miss your other life. The grand balls, the dancing, even your father. Why remain here, miserable in my company?”

  She scoffed. “Is that what you think?”

  “You’re not like Cove,” he said. “You can’t live a duel life. You pick one or the other. You’re either a member of my crew or you’re not.”

  “I don’t even have a place on your ship,” she argued. “You pull me along like some doll on a string. I’m not something pretty for you to look at in your spare time! I deserve something more!”

  “You can’t even follow my orders! How am I supposed to give you a role on my ship?”

  “Your orders never ensure that I am an equal!” she cried. “You have no problem sending Leaf out to fight, but when it comes to me, you hesitate. Why? I fight as well as any man on your crew.”

  She glared at him, and he stared back at her. There was a look on his face she couldn’t quite understand, but she was certain he was hurt in some way.

  “If you can’t figure out why I don’t want to send you into the thick of a fight, then I’m not sure what you’re doing here at all.”

  She blanched. What was that supposed to mean? He turned to leave, but she wasn’t done with him yet. There was one more thing she wanted to know.

  “Who is Éire?”

  There was a frightening pause, and Barren turned, taking a step toward her.

  “Who told you about that?”

  “Who is he?” She demanded again.

  His stare was so severe, she felt she might break beneath it.

  “Éire is a place, not a person,” he said. “It's a small island where I made the greatest mistake of my life. I don’t care to relive it, through memory or story.”

  “So you will not tell me?”

  “Get your information from your source. It seems you believe they have everything figured out.”

  Barren turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

  ***

  Barren hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he woke with a start as the door opened and closed. He sat up, his journal falling to the floor, and saw Cove. He’d come to Cove’s study after leaving Larkin upstairs. For the longest time, he hadn’t been able to sleep, and he occupied his mind by sketching in his journal.

  “I didn’t realize you would be in here,” said the ambassador. His voice was tired and grim.

  “Sorry,” Barren grunted, bending to pick up his journal. He’d fallen asleep in one of the chairs near the fireplace and now he regretted it. His neck was stiff and his back hurt, though those pains paled in comparison to Cove’s, he was sure. He met the ambassador’s gaze. His face was drained of color, and his normally animated eyes were muted. His hair was loose around his face, but he was dressed in his black ambassador uniform. He moved toward his desk with a rigid walk. This was probably a normal reaction to having been shot last night, but Cove had been shot with a different type of bullet, and Barren couldn’t help thinking that every hour that passed was an hour closer to the unknown.

  “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

  “I am fine,” he replied.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  “I already have,” he said. “I needed to speak with Matthew Dulcemer, and it gave me a chance to show people that I am okay.”

  Barren wasn’t so sure.

  “Have you learned anything about the assassin?”

  Cove picked up a coin from his desk and moved it between his fingers as he spoke. “Nothing groundbreaking. I’ve had Maddox look into the matter. As far as he could tell, her life began the night she tried to kill the king.”

  “Well, she’s an assassin. Find out where she was trained. If she’s never had a job before this one, perhaps she’s fresh out of training,” said Barren.

  “That will take time,” said Cove. “Matthew tells me they’re planning to send her to Maris tonight. They’ll do it under the cover of darkness and hang her in the morning.”

  “So soon?” Barren was surprised. “We cannot let her die before we find out where she got the bullets! She is our only link.”

  Cove shrugged. “Christopher Lee is a link to those weapons. He had a hemlock needle, remember? I don’t doubt they are all connected in some way.”

  Barren scoffed. “Christopher Lee won’t talk to us.”

  “Not to us,” he said. “But he might talk to his daughter.”

  Barren set his jaw and stood immediately. He wasn’t sure who Larkin had spoken to at the ball last night. Maybe it had been Christopher Lee and maybe it hadn’t, but he wasn’t going to encourage it.

  “No, I won’t allow it. I can’t…I can’t let Larkin near him.”

  “It would be her decision, Barren.”

  “No!” Barren ground out. “You will promise not to bring it up. You will not plant the idea in her head!”

  Cove seemed troubled, but he nodded. “Very well,” he agreed. “But then we are truly at a loss because Aethea Moore will die. Unless…she escapes.”

  “Escapes? Do you expect her to try?”

  Cove shrugged. “It depends on the type of assassin she is, what she stands for. If she attempted to kill Tetherion out of loyalty to the Octent, then she will proudly die a martyr. If she took the highest bidder, say the Commonwealth, then she would not want to die for this cause.”

  “If she is working with Ben Willow, is it likely that he would want his king-killer to hang?” asked Barren.

  “I wouldn’t put anything past Ben Willow,” said Cove. “I’m not sure what he’s after but what I’ve learned of him over the years is that he is merciless. Perhaps we will make a visit to the Network tonight. Maybe they can tell us more about Aethea Moore and if she’s connected to Ben Willow in anyway.”

  “Finding out if she’s connected to the Commonwealth will do us little good if she’s dead,” said Barren.

  “Just trust me to figure things out,” Cove said. “This is my territory, not yours. You don’t get to make decisions, understand?”

  Barren nodded stiffly and sent up a prayer that they’d be off land soon so he could make his own decisions.

  Cove sat in his study. The flame from his kerosene lamp flickered, causing shadows to dance on the walls, and he knew it was late. He had yet to sleep at all, and he would soon depart to the Network with Barren. He wasn’t sleeping well, plagued by the wound on his side. He kept telling himself the pain would go away once the wound healed, if it healed at all. He’d been in a haze since last night when he’d learned the vacair wound might mean death. Everyone wanted a reaction from him, and he supposed he should be devastated, but he would get nothing done worrying about dying. He’d never lived his life like that and he wouldn’t start now.

  His clock chimed and a knock sounded on his study door. “Come in,” he said.

  He looked up when the door opened to see Larkin enter his study. Cove stood from his place at his desk.

  “May I come in?” she asked from the door.

  “Yes,” he said.

  She shut the
door behind her and turned to face him. Her stance was elegant, the mark of the Lady she was bred to be. Her brows were knitted together in thought, and her jaw was set in a frustrated line, a result of fighting with Barren, no doubt.

  “Are you troubled?” he asked her.

  She seemed surprised and hesitated. “We’ve been friends for a long time, have we not?”

  “We have,” he agreed.

  “Given the last few months, what I have to tell you might not be much of a surprise,” she said. “But I need to know that you can keep a secret.”

  “Are you asking me if I can keep a secret from Barren?”

  She stared at him and he took her silence to mean yes.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “At the ball I was attacked by a man who called me a gypsy-witch. I bested him, but I was discovered by Ben Willow. He told me he wouldn’t tell anyone I was there if I promised to give him Barren’s compass.”

  Cove could only stare at her.

  “I cannot give him Barren’s compass, but Ben expects it to be in his possession tonight. I need something to hold over him, a way to gain an advantage, and keep him from exposing us”

  He shouldn’t have suggested he would keep this from Barren. But then again he needed this: someone who could get close to Ben Willow, learn his plans, become a true enemy to the Commonwealth. He turned from her and moved toward the fire, thinking.

  “I am sorry if you are angry with me,” she said. “If you wish for me to tell Barren, I will, but…”

  “Ben Willow is my problem, not his,” said Cove. “It was right that you came to me.”

  He started to pace and think aloud. “Why does Ben want Barren’s compass?”

  “How did he know Barren had it in the first place?” asked Larkin.

  “The twins?” Cove suggested.

  Larkin shook her head. “They never saw the compass,” she said. “Even then, what worth would they find in it? It is broken.”

  “Yes, it is broken,” said Cove. “So its use is not practical.”

  “Perhaps Ben feels he can trap Barren if he has it?” she suggested.

  Cove shook his head. “No, he would have taken you,” said Cove. “His priority isn’t taking Barren down, it’s exposing me for who I am.”