Flintlock (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  Aethea laughed. “I like a challenge,” she replied. “Besides, Tetherion is quite a malleable puppet. I think I’ll keep him.”

  Em struck, but so did Aethea. There was a surge of energy and colors of red-orange and blue-green collided in the air and repelled each other. Some of the energy smashed into crates, and within seconds, they erupted into fire, and flames rose up and spread.

  It would have been a beautiful scene if it wasn’t so hostile, and when they were drained and could no longer use their powers, they drew weapons. Again, they circled each other, swords in hand.

  “I’ve killed for a living this long, I’m not about to die now,” said Aethea.

  “You’ve forgotten that I’ve done the very same thing.”

  And when their blades met, it was with murderous passion. The anger that was between them ran deep, and it would end unresolved.

  For a while they fought, evenly matched, and perhaps that’s why there was so much hate. Em blocked a blow to her head, and then pushed Aethea back, breathing heavily. Aethea straightened and without any indication, she released a blast of energy from her hand.

  After that, it was like everything happened in slow motion. Em fell to her knees, the air left her lungs. It was clear she was disoriented and her hand loosened from her sword. Barren’s voice tore the air as he screamed her name, and Larkin turned to see the catastrophe.

  Aethea pushed her blade through the middle of Em’s stomach and released it. Em’s eyes were wide, and she still hadn’t managed to catch her breath. Even then, Aethea wasn’t finished. She came toward Em, the fire growing stronger behind her.

  “This is the only test that ever mattered, Em,” she said. She reached forward, snapping the chain that held her Relic about her neck, then she kicked Em into the fire.

  And suddenly, time seemed to stop. Barren, Leaf, and Larkin all froze. Even the men of Estrellas hesitated to strike as Em’s body writhed in the flames and soon went still. The smell of charred flesh made Larkin vomit. Aethea’s harsh laughter filled the air, and she sprinted toward the exit. Leaf and Barren moved to stop her, but their hesitation cost them. Barren cried out as a blade moved through his chest.

  It was Larkin’s turn to scream, and then there was no stopping the magic within her. As she rose from her feet, it tore from her body and surged before everyone. The Estrellas men in its path were crushed, and the only thing that saved Barren and Leaf was that they had flattened themselves to the ground. It was Aethea who stopped it from going further with a simple wave of her hand. Larkin collapsed to her knees, out of breath but her gaze never left Aethea, whose eyes were alight. Larkin’s secret was now known.

  Then she retreated.

  Larkin crawled to Barren as the fire raged about them. Her hands shook. “No, no, no,” she whispered desperately. This could not be the end. This would not be the end...but she didn’t believe even Leaf could heal this wound.

  The blade was still in his chest, blood seeping from it fast as he struggled to breathe. She gripped it with her hands and pulled it out. His breath grew more uneven.

  “Barren!” she cried desperately. His eyes were open, but they stared, unseeing. She touched his face with her hands, oblivious to the blood that seeped down his face from his lips. She was losing him. “Please don’t leave me! Please, please, please.”

  She kept pleading, as if her words could reverse this terrible thing.

  She fought the hands that pushed her aside until she realized it was Leaf, trying to get to Barren. Leaf lifted Barren to his feet, hurrying to the back of the store room where the burlap cloth hung. Larkin followed numbly. Leaf prepared to enter the water with Barren, but before he did, he swiveled toward Larkin, his eyes severe, and she flinched. She did not know this Leaf.

  “You’re a Lyric,” he said.

  “I couldn’t tell you. I don’t even understand what I am.”

  “After the choices you’ve made, it is impossible to trust you.”

  And then he entered the water, somehow managing to drag Barren along with him.

  Her heart hurt for her secrets, for Barren’s wounds, but more for what she had to do now. She couldn’t be here anymore, not with Barren and not with these powers. She entered the water, and when she emerged on the other side of the river, her eyes met Leaf’s.

  He knew her decision.

  Her return to Maris had to be dramatic. It was the only way she would live. Her offenses were not unknown to Tetherion or his sons, and while her father had been able to maintain that she was still a captive of Barren Reed’s, she knew the king and his sons would prefer to hang her.

  The last few days had been a struggle. Physically, she was exhausted and dehydrated. Her muscles were knotted from keeping herself crammed into a tiny space in the hatch of Aethea’s ship. It was the only one she knew for certain was headed for Maris. If she’d been captured, well, it would have been the end for her. Mentally, she wasn’t even sure she could process what had happened to her in the last few weeks, or what had happened to Em. Barren had warned her that if she went with him, she would see things she never wished to see, things that might make her wish she had never agreed to stay. Surely he’d had no idea then how true his words would be. Surely even he hadn’t been prepared for the way Em had died.

  There was no going back now. The weight of her decision was heavy. She knew what she would have to do. She needed all the pieces of the King’s Gold. There were at least three Relics in Maris. One was Sysara’s compass, one had been given to Tetherion by Lord Alder, and the third Relic was on this very ship in the hands of Aethea Moore, who has taken it from Em before pushing her into the fire. Larkin would reclaim that piece if it meant an end to her life.

  And where was her mother’s Relic? Did her father know about it, and would he tell her if he knew?

  When Maris was in view, Larkin slipped from the cannon window and swam to shore. She climbed onto the dock and walked through the markets at port. Her clothes dripped with water, her hair stuck to her face. She moved slowly, exhausted, but also ensuring that she was seen. The markets were crowded, and the throng parted almost immediately. People stared in shock. Behind her, the crowd converged and followed. She marched toward the castle, which loomed over the port mockingly.

  As she neared the long set of stairs, two soldiers met her there on horses. She regarded them for a moment, unsure of what they had been ordered to do. One solider dismounted and helped her onto the horse.

  Those who had followed her from port also followed her up the steep stairs until they passed beyond the walls of the castle and they could follow no more.

  Everything was familiar as she passed down the halls of the castle, except that it was darker, and the servants who wandered about stopped in their tracks to gawk at her. She had to get used to the stares. They would be a part of her world from this day on. No one would ever forget that she had spent months at sea with a pirate.

  She was led to the throne room. The guards pulled the doors open, and she entered.

  “So it is true,” Tetherion’s voice reached her as soon as she stepped into the room. This room was also dark. All the windows were covered, and Tetherion sat on his gilded throne at the head of the room.

  When she was before him, she bowed and Tetherion laughed.

  “Rise,” he said, and she did. He regarded her for a long moment, and she studied him. He was the Tetherion she had encountered at sea. Untrusting, fierce. She took note of the chain about his neck, at the end of which a glimmering blue gem rimmed in gold hung. It was beautiful and drew the eye when the light hit its facets. So that was the King’s Gold. She guessed this must be Illiana’s piece, as it favored the night sky. How strange, Larkin thought, that Lord Alder would gift Tetherion his wife’s Relic.

  “Why have you returned?” he asked.

  Larkin leveled her gaze with his. “I have come to deliver the information requested on behalf of my father, Lord Christopher Lee.”

  “What information?” Tetherion sat up
in his chair. “Your father spoke of no such thing.”

  “She is a liar,” Datherious said, and his voice rang out in the halls like a bell. “She would have us believe she is our ally, but she is a serpent. Hang her swiftly and be done with it!”

  She smiled wider. Serpent, indeed.

  “Silence!” Tetherion ordered, and his eyes returned to Larkin. “Let us have this information.”

  “Weapons of dark magic are moving through the Underground in the Octent,” she said. “We believe the weapons are being used to arm the Commonwealth against you.”

  “You have no proof,” Datherious hissed.

  Larkin reached into her pocket and withdrew the spent shells that had been used to kill Barren’s brethren and wound Cove. “If I may, your majesty,” Larkin indicated the bullets in her hand. Tetherion nodded, stretching out his hand. She let the shells fall into his palm. The king stared at them as she spoke.

  “Ambassador Rowell was shot at the Autumn Ball with one of these bullets meant for you. The effects will kill him. The assassin chosen for the job works for the Commonwealth. She is using her position to gain power until she can kill you.”

  “You liar,” Datherious’ face had grown red, and he strode forward.

  “Enough!” Tetherion’s voice had grown dark and frightening. He rose from his seat, pointing at his son. “You hired a traitor to serve me?”

  The doors opened behind them, and Larkin turned to see Aethea Moore enter the room. She appeared triumphant, until her eyes landed on Larkin.

  “Guards!” Tetherion’s voice was like thunder. “Take her to the dungeons!”

  “What?” Aethea demanded as she was seized.

  “You would believe the words of a sea-witch?” Datherious growled.

  “I believe my envious son would conspire to take my throne,” Tetherion replied.

  Datherious’s gaze was dangerous, and he strode toward her. “You,” he spat the word as if it were poison. “You really are putting on a show. I know you love him, and it will give me great pleasure to watch this break you.”

  Datherious swept past Larkin. She met Tetherion’s gaze.

  “Guards, see that Lady Larkin gets home safely.”

  ***

  It was raining when she arrived at her father’s house. She stood outside, staring at the door for a long moment. She had not been dry since she’d swum from Aethea’s ship to get to shore, and her body yearned for rest. Yet somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to knock on the door before her.

  Luckily, she did not have to. The guard who had accompanied her rapped on the door. There was a pause and it opened.

  Ms. Jenkins, the housekeeper, answered with a smile on her face, but it faded instantly when she saw Larkin. She did not move to let her in. She just stood there, holding the door ajar, staring wide-eyed at the girl she used to know. Larkin felt disappointment.

  “Who is it, Ms. Jenkins?” There was an edge to her father’s voice that made her heart beat faster. He came around the corner and immediately pushed Ms. Jenkins aside.

  “Lord Lee,” the soldier said and bowed his head. “I was ordered to see Lady Larkin home safely.”

  “Thank you,” the Lord said. He was not able to mask his shock. He ushered Larkin inside and closed the door behind him. Water dripped onto the wood floors and she imagined she was a pitiful sight. She hated to be pitied.

  “What are you doing here?” He wasn’t demanding the answer, and he didn’t sound angry. This emotion she couldn’t place.

  “I...” she hesitated. “I came home.”

  He led her to his study, wet clothes and all, and shut the door tight behind them.

  “Sit,” he told her. She looked down at her clothes compared to the furniture. What a contrast. She sat anyway. There was silence for some time and she looked around her, unable to concentrate very well. This all felt unreal. She’d never imagined herself here again once she’d decided to sail with Barren. She felt a cold glass in her hands and looked down. Her father was giving her a glass of water. She took it and gulped greedily. He disappeared again while she downed the glass and reappeared with a blanket. It wouldn’t do much good while she was still wet, but it was thoughtful, nonetheless.

  “Why are you here?” his voice was low, as if he feared listeners. Larkin met his gaze. It was strange to look into his eyes and see nothing. No anger, no concern. She worked to string a sentence together.

  “I told you…I came home.”

  “Is that all you’re going to say?” he demanded, his voice suddenly harsher.

  She looked up at him. His gaze was not kind, not fatherly at all. Perhaps she would have been better received if she had returned sobbing and begging for forgiveness. “What would you like me to say?”

  “I would think you would wish to apologize," he said. “You humiliated me!"

  "I humiliated you?" she sneered. “This has never been about you, father, but you’ve always made it about you. Mother’s death was all about you, your revenge was all about your pain. You’ve never lived for anything but your past. You’ve never lived for me!”

  And somewhere deep down, she realized she could say the same thing to Barren, and it would be true.

  “Do not blame me for your behavior!”

  “I am not blaming you, but I am not apologizing for my behavior,” she said standing. “You were wrong to assume I returned in hopes that my reputation remained intact.”

  “If you had no hope of returning to this life, I wonder why you came at all.”

  She hesitated, and then raised her head, setting her teeth. “I am tired,” she said, and moved to leave the room.

  “Larkin,” her father said her name deliberately. There was no anger, there was no frustration, only warning. “Tread carefully. The world out there at sea, it is vicious, but this, it is not any easier. I cannot protect you.”

  “I didn’t ask for protection,” she said.

  She left him then, taking a candle from the candelabra and hurrying upstairs to what was once her room. The door creaked open and she entered. The lightning from the storm outside illuminated her room. It was the same as the day she’d left. Nothing out of place. Her bed was at the center of the room, red velvet covers and a canopy of the same fabric covering it. Her vanity was scattered with oils and her brushes.

  She moved forward slowly, taking in the smell of the room, the groan of the floor. She placed the candle in its holder and then moved to the window seat. She sat there, drew her knees to her chest, and watched the storm as it illuminated the roiling sea. She could make out the remains of the Cliffs, their broken slabs a reminder of the night she had been kidnapped. She had come full-circle now. It was the first time she’d ever wondered if she’d survive this.

  Barren came to consciousness, and while he felt feverish, he felt strong. There was something different about him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It made him uneasy.

  He opened his eyes and found Leaf sitting by his bed. He lay there a moment, trying to recall what had happened and was filled with profound sadness. Em was dead, stabbed and then burned alive by Aethea Moore. He had also been wounded. The only thing he could recall from that point on was the pain.

  “You’re awake,” Leaf said, and his voice was rough and tired. Barren sat up and looked at the Elf. Leaf was pale, but it was not just his face, it was his eyes and lips, too. He looked sick.

  “Are you well?” Barren asked. Leaf hesitated and when he did not speak, he looked around the room.

  “Where is Larkin?”

  He hesitated again and all Barren could think was that she had died. “Is she…is she alive?”

  “She is alive,” the Elf replied with some effort.

  “Where is she?” he demanded a little more fiercely.

  After a paused he said, “She is gone.”

  “What do you mean, she’s gone?”

  “She left,” said Leaf. “She ran away.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to believe that she wasn’t on t
his ship. Frantically, he began looking around the room for any sign of her presence. She wasn’t there. He threw the covers from him and stood. He moved quickly, and Leaf had no time to stop him before he was out of his cabin and rushing on deck.

  “Larkin!” he called. “Larkin!”

  He turned in circles but was only met with the eyes of his crew. They shared Leaf’s pale expression. It was pity because they knew she was gone, too.

  Finally, Barren met Leaf’s gaze again. “Barren, I am sorry.”

  All Barren could think to do was scream. Rage formed from deep in his belly and exploded in a growl so deep and guttural that his crew flinched away. Despite his wound, he punched the mast in front of him. Over and over again, he hit the hard wood, crying out as he did.

  “Stop it, Barren!”

  Finally, Leaf pulled him away, and when he did, Barren found all his crew staring at him, wide-eyed. He touched his chest, which hurt. He was surprised that there were no bandages around him, and when he looked down, he discovered why. The wound on his chest was gone, but replaced by a black spot. The darkness fed into veins down his chest.

  He pressed his hand to the wound.

  “It’s the magic,” said Leaf. “It has begun.”

  So it had. He would repay whatever debt he had begun when he’d destroyed the bloodstone. Had his injury triggered it?

  Barren swallowed hard. “It is fitting,” he said, and he didn’t recognize his voice. “Larkin is a Lyric.”

  Leaf only nodded.

  “Why would she not tell me?”

  “Perhaps she was afraid,” said the Elf.

  Afraid. Yes, because everything she had encountered at sea told her that Lyric was wrong. Even Aethea Moore, who they had just discovered was a Lyric, had used her magic for evil. Perhaps Larkin had felt she must flee to remain good.

  Barren sat on the steps leading to the helm. There were splinters in his knuckles. Leaf sat down next to him and began to pull them out. They were silent for a long time.

  “Did she look back?” he asked at length. “When she ran away, did she look back?”