“No unwelcome guests in the Cove.” Linnet hopped up and went to the door while Charlotte tried to stop her hands from shaking.
Linnet turned to look at her. “Bravery is all well and good, but sometimes it’s much better to be cautious.”
She drew a large iron key from her coat pocket and fit it into a crevice in the stone to the right of the door.
Again the sound of gears moving, and the door swung inward. Linnet stepped through.
“Don’t dawdle,” she said to Charlotte, who was still having trouble convincing her legs to move.
Though she had to hold her breath while doing so, Charlotte hurried across the traitorous planks to join Linnet. When the raven-masked girl freed her dagger from the door, the planks dropped open again and Charlotte swore, pressing her back against the solid stone wall.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, kitten,” Linnet said, coaxing Charlotte toward another set of stairs. “I should have thought to warn you, given your proclivity for daring deeds.”
Charlotte laughed; it was a tight, nervous sound, but nonetheless it relieved some of her tension.
“Shall we?” Linnet offered her arm, and Charlotte was relieved to take it as they descended the stairs.
The stone walls went from cool to slick and damp. Moss crept through cracks in the molding and steady drips appeared here and there until they reached yet another door.
Linnet gave Charlotte’s hand a squeeze before extricating herself from their linked arms. “Don’t worry. This one isn’t rigged with a trap.”
“Welcome to the Cove,” Linnet said, and opened the door.
As far as Charlotte could tell, candles offered the only light in this subterranean tavern. Small flames sprang from the tallow stubs, which flickered and swayed at the behest of drafts that seeped into the room. The close air smelled of tobacco and rum, and tasted of salt and brine.
Just beyond the door, a thick-bodied man sat on a barrel like a stool. He wasted no time sizing up Charlotte and Linnet. The doorman had a long, curving nose decorated with gold rings. When he opened his mouth to speak, Charlotte glimpsed a deep maw shielded by very few teeth.
“Masks.” The man nodded at the wall behind him. It was covered with hooks, many obscured by the riot of masks that dangled from them.
Charlotte balked, but Linnet began to untie the ribbon at the back of her head with no sign of hesitation. Puzzled, Charlotte loosened the knot that kept her mask snug against her face. She placed her nightingale on the hook beside Linnet’s raven.
From her vantage point, Charlotte could make out little more of the room. She saw only dark shapes within the play of light and shadow. Linnet put her hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “Let your eyes adjust to the shadows. We’ll make our way into this hovel soon enough.”
“Why don’t they have proper lights?” Charlotte whispered through her teeth.
“Because the patrons of this establishment don’t fancy being seen,” Linnet answered. “Masks aren’t allowed. Given the types of deals made here, you want to be sure you’re meeting with the right person. But that doesn’t mean these scalawags don’t prefer to hide their faces in the shadows as much as possible.”
As Charlotte’s gaze slowly tracked the outline of the room, she noted it had the shape of a sphere halved, and the ceiling didn’t appear to be man-made, but alike to a natural cave. What had been inky blobs and apparitions gained curves and angles. The hooded and cloaked figures seated at the handful of wooden tables had heads bent in hushed conversations, broken only by the occasional, startling, coarse laugh. The sweat beading at the nape of Charlotte’s neck felt cold as she realized that despite the outward appearance of disinterest, they were being watched. Slitted eyes swept over the pair of girls, weighing the threat or worth of their arrival in a glance. Thinking it would intimate that she was not to be trifled with, Charlotte slid her hand from her waist toward the holster at her thigh.
Linnet’s nails dug into Charlotte’s skin, making her gasp.
“If you so much as touch a weapon, the entire room will draw on you before you can blink.” Linnet’s voice was a low growl in Charlotte’s ear.
Taking care not to move too quickly, Charlotte let her hand rest at her side. Noting a subtle shift in the room, a loosening of tension, Charlotte had no doubts Linnet spoke the truth.
“Sorry,” Charlotte murmured.
“If you want to take on a room full of smugglers and assassins, kitten, far be it from me to stop you.” Linnet laughed quietly. “But maybe you should wait until we don’t need a favor from them. Come on, then. Try not to look any of these lot directly in the eye.”
Charlotte kept her focus on Linnet’s back as they moved forward. Linnet had to be searching the tavern for her contact, but Charlotte marveled at the way the other girl walked assuredly through the dim space, giving no sign that she was looking for someone.
Yet another trick she’ll have to teach me.
Linnet changed direction, heading to a table tucked against the damp stone wall. Without hesitation, she slid into the chair opposite the table’s lone occupant, leaving the chair nearest the stranger to Charlotte.
Charlotte risked sparing Linnet a reproachful glance before taking her seat. Linnet wore an unreadable expression as she stared across the table.
From the stranger’s size, Charlotte guessed he was a man. His low voice confirmed her suspicion a moment later.
“You’re wise to put a body between us, ma chérie,” he said to Linnet. A hat with a broad, slouching brim shadowed most of his face; the sharp cut of his jaw and a crescent-shaped scar at the left corner of his mouth were the sole features Charlotte could make out. “After you lifted that cargo off me last spring, I owe you a knife in the belly.”
“It’s nice to see you, too.” Linnet rested her hands on the table, presumably to show she wasn’t bearing a weapon. Charlotte did the same, all the while wishing she could draw a gun and hold it in her lap.
The stranger smiled and his scar retreated like a dimple, softening the angles of his face. He lifted his chin toward Charlotte.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked. “As I recall, you’re not one for partners.”
“This is Charlotte,” Linnet replied, ignoring his other observation. “Charlotte, meet Jean-Baptiste Lachance. Though you’re more likely to hear about his exploits as Captain Sang d’Acier.”
Charlotte kept her voice low and steady. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
In truth, Charlotte wasn’t sure how she felt about someone known as Steel Blood. Especially when he’d just mentioned a desire to stab Linnet.
Lachance lifted his hand, extending three fingers. The barkeep nodded and soon enough, three stout cups arrived at their table.
“Your message intrigued me enough to show up,” he said, lifting his glass in a toast before having a swallow. “Care to elaborate on the job?”
Linnet’s fingers encircled her cup, but she didn’t drink. Charlotte eyed her own cup with indecision. She didn’t want to appear rude—or even worse, weak-blooded—in this company, but she had no idea what the brimming liquid was. She did know that it was strong. Her nose was nowhere near the stuff and yet its fumes suffused her every breath. Charlotte looked at Linnet again, deciding that she needn’t drink so long as Linnet did not.
Linnet kept a hard gaze on Lachance. “The job is transport, plain and simple. I didn’t think it would pose a challenge to you, but then I could be wrong.”
“Transport is never plain and simple,” Lachance said. “At least not for someone reckless enough to want a place on my ship. Anyone wishing for such a journey will be more trouble than I’d like.”
Ignoring Lachance’s comment, Linnet said, “Four passengers. Myself, Charlotte, and two friends. All I ask is that you take us safely to the southerly capes of the Carolinas. We won’t cause any trouble.”
“Because you never bring trouble.”
“I can find another ship.” Linnet lifted her cup and took a long swallow.
Charlotte eyed her drink, not convinced she should do the same.
That smile again, this time with teeth. “You will not find another ship. You want mine.”
Linnet returned his smile, but hers gave nothing away.
They sat in silence, neither breaking their gaze. Charlotte forced herself to be still, despite how much the tension building at their table made her want to squirm.
At last, Lachance said, “And what will you give me in return for safe passage?”
“What do you want?” Linnet asked, then abruptly bit her lip. In the space of a breath she’d regained her dispassionate expression, but not before Lachance caught her misstep.
He laughed softly, leaning forward to rest one arm on the table. His other hand reached for Linnet’s arm. He pulled her hand away from her cup, turning her wrist over and lightly running his fingers over the veins he found there. Charlotte watched with amazement, and then alarm, when Linnet didn’t rebuff the pirate.
“You know better than to ask that, ma sirène,” Lachance murmured.
Something he’d said triggered outrage in Linnet. She knocked his hand away.
“No. Don’t you dare.”
He straightened, then removed his hat. “As you wish.”
Linnet stiffened, fury building in her expression.
Charlotte gripped her cup so tightly that her hands slipped, making some of her drink slosh onto the table. Neither Linnet nor Lachance took notice, as they were utterly fixated on each other.
Though few words had been exchanged, Charlotte suddenly had answers to a flurry of questions that spun in her mind. Something about Linnet had changed because of Lachance’s presence. Whatever had shifted in her intensified when the pirate took off his hat, letting the candle’s glow illuminate his face.
Charlotte thought of Jack and Coe Winter as handsome men; she still did. Jean-Baptiste Lachance was something else altogether. He’d emanated strength and confidence from the moment they’d joined him at the table, but now that she could truly see him, Charlotte could only describe the pirate’s visage as unearthly.
He was much younger than Charlotte had expected from his tone; he couldn’t have been more than five years older than she and Linnet. His hair was caught back in the common style, but it could well have been spun gold brushing the tops of his shoulder blades. Charlotte had taken note of Lachance’s strong jawline, but the rest of his features proved no less striking. High cheekbones, a chiseled nose. Skin bronzed by the sun. His eyes were dark, but in brief flickers of the candlelight Charlotte saw irises blue as a storm-ridden sea.
Linnet’s lips parted and she drew a sharp breath. Lachance tilted his head, watching her. When she didn’t speak, he said, “Silence, Linnet? That’s unlike you.”
“Your terms,” Linnet answered, voice stony.
With a wry smile, Lachance folded his arms across his chest, resuming his lazy pose in the chair. “Guaranteed purchase at market price, plus five percent from Ott, for all my goods through the next winter.”
“You know he’d never make that deal.” Linnet’s hands disappeared beneath the table. Charlotte feared her friend was reaching for a dagger.
Lachance shrugged. “He’s not here. You are.”
“I’ll do my best to convince him,” Linnet said. She put a few coins on the table along with a scrap of paper. “For your next round. We’ll bid you good night.”
Lachance drained his cup and said, “I’m not finished.”
Linnet’s shoulders were set in such a way that Charlotte held her breath, waiting for the other girl to strike. Rather than a deadly thrust, Linnet offered a question.
“What else could there be?” Her words emerged as a whisper laced with poison, but Lachance continued to smile at her.
“You still have a debt to settle with me. Or have you forgotten?”
Linnet went very still, watching Lachance in silence.
When she finally spoke, it was in a whisper. “You’re a scoundrel.”
“I’m not called a pirate without reason,” Lachance replied.
“This is when we need to leave,” she told him, and slid the paper and coins across the table.
Lachance took the note, not bothering to read it before slipping it into his pocket. “Would you like to join me for another round? You’ve certainly just paid for more than one drink. And I’ve not been given the opportunity to converse with your friend.”
For the first time since their conversation began, Lachance looked at Charlotte. She found it terribly difficult to meet his gaze.
Linnet didn’t answer him, but rose from her seat, and with a glance indicated that Charlotte was to do the same.
“You know you must tell me that you agree to my terms.” Lachance’s words stopped Linnet from walking away, but she kept her face turned from him.
“I hate you.”
Linnet spoke so softly, Charlotte couldn’t believe her words reached him. But somehow they did.
“I know, ma sirène,” he said quietly. “But you still must say it.”
Looking over her shoulder, Linnet said, “We are agreed.”
To Charlotte, it sounded as though Linnet had just made a deal with the devil himself.
LINNET HADN’T SPOKEN since they parted ways with Jean-Baptiste Lachance. As they retraced their steps through the Quay, Charlotte threw darting glances at her friend, waiting for Linnet to say something. Anything.
Charlotte cleared her throat. “When are we leaving?”
“An hour before dawn,” Linnet replied.
Silence built between them again until Charlotte couldn’t bear it.
“Who is he, Linnet?” Charlotte asked.
“You know who he is.” Linnet’s voice was flat. “He’s a pirate.”
“No.” Charlotte stopped and Linnet looked over her shoulder. “Who is he to you?”
“The Quay isn’t a place to linger,” Linnet said. She kept walking.
Charlotte didn’t follow. She waited, listening to water lap against the docks. Linnet had almost reached the stairs when she stopped, pivoted, and stared at her. Charlotte stared back.
Linnet’s hands balled into fists as she walked back to her. “Do you have to be so stubborn?”
“I think I do,” Charlotte said. She was far more nervous than she sounded. Charlotte had come to value her friendship with Linnet deeply, and didn’t want to put it at risk. At the same time she sensed that it was important for her to know what Linnet was withholding.
With a huff, Linnet said, “Fine. But we’re walking to the Black Fish, not standing here like fools.”
They set off again, and Charlotte stayed quiet.
“You saw him,” Linnet said as they began to climb the stairs. “Tell me what you think.”
“He’s . . .” Charlotte cast a sidelong glance at her friend. “I . . . it’s difficult . . . He has a rather . . . magnetic effect . . .”
“Exactly,” Linnet growled. “Steel Blood isn’t his only nickname.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure she wanted to know what other names the pirate captain had. “The other nickname is worse?”
“It depends on who you ask,” Linnet replied. “They call him Lothario of the Sea.”
Considering how attractive Lachance was, Charlotte didn’t find the name that surprising or unsettling. “I imagine he has many admirers.”
Linnet laughed. “Admirers, yes. Companions, no. At least not anymore.”
“I don’t understand,” Charlotte said.
They�
�d reached the Market district and turned in the direction of the Domicile. “A little less than a year ago Lachance made a sort of pronouncement. His days of Dionysian excess had come to an end.”
“Why would he do that?”
Linnet paused beside the entrance to the bridge between the Market and the Domicile.
“According to Lachance, he met the woman he wants to marry,” Linnet told her. “And until he won her hand, he foreswore all other lovers to prove his fidelity, which in Lachance’s mind was an incredible sacrifice. He has a network of contacts that rivals Ott’s, and he made certain his intentions and his suffering were known from the mouth of the Mississippi to the Amherst Province.”
“Why was he so public about it?” Charlotte asked. “Couldn’t he just tell the woman?”
Linnet’s smile was like a knife in the dark. “She has a reputation for being difficult and disdainful of men’s promises of love. He thought such a grand gesture would soften her heart.”
“Did it?” Charlotte’s interest had become fascination.
“No.” Linnet started onto the bridge. “She has sworn she’ll never marry, because marriage is a prison for women.”
“So you know her?”
“Yes, kitten, I know her very well,” Linnet said. “I am her.”
“Linnet!” Charlotte grabbed the other girl’s arm. “What do you mean you’re her?”
Linnet shook Charlotte’s hand off her wrist. “I mean Lachance claims he wants to marry me and he won’t stop telling people about it. Spear of Athene, he’s infuriating.”
She set out at a faster clip.
“But . . .” Charlotte tried to catch Linnet and almost had to run to do it. “Linnet. Merciful Athene. The deal. What did you just agree to?”
Linnet walked even faster.
“Linnet, stop,” Charlotte did run then, but only so she could cut Linnet off.
When they stood face to face, Charlotte glared at her. “You did not agree to marry him. Linnet, you can’t do that to help me and Grave. It’s too much.”
The Conjurer's Riddle Page 23