by Nancy Gray
As she watched Nicomedes laughing at Pyron and trying to push him over the edge, she realized that Nicomedes wouldn’t share information with anyone he considered weak, but maybe he would share information with someone he felt was like him, someone who could actually intimidate him.
Mercy frowned. She knew what she had to do and she didn’t like it. It meant that for a moment she would have to be Stealer of Secrets. She would have to beat him at his own game using the little bit of information that she knew about him. The biggest problem was she wasn’t sure how she was going to do it.
Mercy thought about the doctor and what she found intimidating about him. It wasn’t threats that made him frightening; it was the fact that he just didn’t care how far he went. He was very calm and factual about what he was going to do. If she didn’t answer his questions, there was a consequence for her actions. He also read her facial features and guessed what she was thinking. She decided that was the best way for her to handle the situation. From what she observed Nicomedes seemed vain, arrogant, and stubborn. So, she would have to hit him where it hurt, starting with his vanity.
Mercy knelt down in front of him. “You have a lovely shade of hair. I wonder how you would feel if we cut all of it off.”
He cocked his head to the side as though he had just observed something very interesting. “Why do you think I would care about something as trivial as hair when I’ve just told you that I don’t’ care if you break every single one of my bones?
“Because, deep down you’re very trivial. If you don’t start cooperating, I’ll start with your hair, not cutting it all off but pulling it out in uneven intervals so you’ll look like you’re infested with mange. You might not mind being tortured, because that gives you interesting scars to show off for the ladies, but hair like a stray animal is never very endearing.”
Mercy tried not to grin. She felt a very subtle change in him when she mentioned the word, “ladies.” He liked his women. In fact, his mistress in the Ashen capital was how Pyron nearly entrapped him in the first place. While he didn’t find Pyron intimidating, it was probably because he knew Pyron’s methods and since Pyron had a personal grudge against him, he was easy to manipulate. However, he didn’t know Mercy, and she had nothing personal to gain from torturing him. He also seemed to respect her slightly since he already admitted that he thought she was clever to shoot him in the stomach during his fight with Pyron.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t frighten me, girl.”
“I’m not trying to frighten you. I’m just telling you what I’m going to do to you if you don’t give us the information. It’s just a fact. After the hair, it’ll be the face. I’ll leave your mouth alone longest because we do want to hear what you have to say, but you don’t need eyelids to talk to us.”
Nicomedes blinked for a moment but didn’t say anything. His confident smile was turning into a scowl.
Mercy glanced at Pyron. His mouth was hanging open a bit in shock and she felt a strange mixture of awed respect and revulsion from him. She wanted to tell him that she felt just as horrified by what she was saying as well, but she had to pretend that she meant every single word or her threats would be meaningless. The reason she had started with the hair was because she had a feeling she would have to tear out some of his hair to get him to take her seriously.
Erebus had a different look on his face, one of suspicion and worry. He was worried that she was tapping into her darker side, and he was right to be concerned. The words were coming from her a little too easily, and her voice sounded almost like a pleasure-filled purr even in her own ears. She could never really torture someone like the doctor, but Nicomedes didn’t need to know that. The fact was Nicomedes wasn’t sure what she was capable of, and it was slowly starting to unnerve him. Mercy decided while he was feeling uncertain it was time to go for the kill.
“And, you also don’t need other parts of your body to be cooperative. When an animal is castrated it becomes a great deal more docile. I think that’s where I’ll finish. After all, I know what you did to Pyron’s wife, and you can still be publicly executed without those.”
“I think you’re bluffing.”
Mercy looked around the room and grabbed some bloody scissors that were close by. She fought the urge to shudder, thinking of what they might’ve been used for before she got there. She knew that Nicomedes could probably tell from her heartbeat that she was nervous, but she tried to make herself seem excited instead. She grabbed a large clump of his hair and ripped several strands out, and then started cutting very close to his scalp.
Nicomedes said a little too quickly, “You never asked me any questions.”
Mercy glanced at Pyron. She could tell he was trying to keep the smug grin off of his face. It was up to Mercy now. If Pyron spoke up it would undermine everything that she had tried to do.
“I think you know what questions I planned to ask. First of all, how did you become like this?” Mercy used the rusty click of the scissors to punctuate her words.
Nicomedes grinned again. He was slowly regaining his composure, but she felt something underneath it. Even though he was slightly afraid she would carry out her threats, he had a new respect for her that she didn’t like. Nicomedes liked Stealer of Secrets, and she had a feeling that he somehow knew about her abilities and how they were linked to her crueler side.
He leaned back against the wall and said, “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you a little. You probably know that I can’t tell you everything, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. I got this way because I took part in a blood ritual with the Waterbloods and the Blood Fangs.”
Erebus spoke up, “I thought all of the Blood Fangs were dead.”
“No, there are still a few of them left - enough to be useful. Does that bother you, to know that two different types of your kind have become allies already?”
Mercy snapped, “I’m the one asking the questions. So you were involved in a blood ritual. What exactly does that mean and what was it for?”
“I think you know what that ritual did since you all seem so intent on searching for what caused it. There were some sacrifices I had to make.” He paused for a moment as though letting his word sink in. “But, as you can see, I gained a great deal in return.”
Erebus said, “So, the ritual you’re referring to is what caused the blood rain. Tell us more about it.”
“You of all people should know that I can’t tell you all of the details. It was a long and very painstaking process. From what I understand, any ancient sorcery would have to be.”
“But how did they learn the ritual?”
“They didn’t trust me enough to say specifically. They tried to lead me off the scent by blathering about getting it from the Blood God. Does that mean anything to you?”
Mercy felt Erebus’ fear like ice running down her back.
His face must’ve given his fear away, as well. Nicomedes was grinning almost to the point of laughing at him. “I see that it does. How interesting.”
Pyron asked, “Have the islanders allied themselves to the beast men?”
“Why don’t you go to the island and see for yourself.”
Mercy snipped another long lock of hair away from his face. “Answer the question.”
“You can stop pretending to be tough. You had me fooled for a little while, but I know you have no intention of castrating me. Besides, if you do, I won’t tell you a goddamned thing. I’m the one in control here since I have the information that you want, but I liked your little act. It was very exciting.”
Mercy frowned. It seemed she had played her cards a bit too soon. What was bothering her the most was that it seemed that Nicomedes was telling them the truth. It didn’t make sense why he would willingly give away so much information. He seemed more than cooperative now that he had started talking. She decided not to concentrate on what that could mean. She would think more on that once they were done finding out everything that they wanted to know.
> Nicomedes paused as though considering Pyron’s question and said, “There’s a bond between the islanders and the Waterbloods. I think that they’ve always been allies. After all, who would make better fishermen than a group of sharks? As far as I know, they don’t know anything about the ritual. They’re too busy with the war to wonder what the Waterbloods are doing behind their backs. As long as it benefits them, they don’t care.”
Pyron frowned. It clearly wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and it also wasn’t enough information to condemn the islanders entirely. If they didn’t know anything about the ritual, then they probably didn’t know anything about magic in general.
Nicomedes continued, “I would say that the islanders have the same sort of relationship with the Waterbloods as the people of the North have with the Mermen.” He glanced at Mercy. “They’re simple folk like your people.”
Mercy grabbed his hair and yanked out another clump. She was satisfied to see that the force of the blow brought tears to his eyes, but the stubborn grin remained on his face.
Pyron asked, “Why were you following us?”
“Because, ironically, the Waterbloods sent me on the same sort of mission as the dictator sent you. Your little group is becoming a nuisance. I was supposed to find and kill all of you, and I know that you were sent to find and kill me.”
Mercy frowned. “How did they know we were searching for the cause of the rain?”
“The Waterbloods have informants in many different places. I don’t know specifically which one told them, but they’ve known what you were planning to do for at least a few weeks.”
Mercy frowned and tried to think. The informant could belong to any of the tribes that she encountered when she was searching for the cause of the rain in the first place. It could be one of the beast races, someone from the Ashen capital, or even a rogue Merman. She sighed miserably, deciding it was unimportant who the spy was when the damage was already done. The enemy knew that they were looking into the cause of the blood rain and apparently they had been successful enough to get their attention.
Pyron smiled smugly. “Well, you failed in your mission. I doubt that anyone will really mourn you when you’re dead. You have no right to call me a lapdog of the dictator when you’re playing fetch for your Waterblood friends.”
He leaned against his chains. “I don’t think you understand. My Waterblood ‘friends’ are paying me to find you with money, women, and more power than I’ve ever dreamed possible. What does the dictator plan to give you for your services? A medal? More responsibility? Or maybe he just won’t kill you for failing.”
“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve already failed, and I’ve been successful.”
“The day isn’t over yet.”
Mercy stood up. “I knew it. I knew that you planned to get caught. You were right, Pyron. Someone on this ship is betraying us. He’s telling us all of this because he doesn’t think we’re going to survive the night.”
Nicomedes laughed. “I knew you were the clever one. Come on, threaten me again. I liked it. Threaten my manhood, or to break every single one of my bones, or maybe brew up some of that truth serum. You’ll never figure anything out in time.”
Mercy heard someone above deck ringing the ship bell. It was the signal that the entire crew was to assemble. The funeral was about to start, and Mercy knew that everyone was expected to attend. Pyron cursed under his breath.
“You two go up to the funeral. I’m going to watch him until the captain sends someone to take my place. Since we don’t know who the traitor is, make sure that he sends at least two people to watch the prisoners together and make sure he picks them randomly.”
Erebus nodded. “I’ll tell him, but I don’t think the captain is going to believe anyone in his crew is a traitor.”
Pyron began to pace. “Well, just tell him what Nicomedes said, and hopefully he’ll have enough sense to do it anyway. We can’t risk any of the prisoners escaping. And he needs to know there’s a traitor onboard just as much as we do, whether he wants to hear it or not.”
20
Mercy couldn’t look at the still figure that was wrapped in the tarp in the center of the deck. In the moonlight, the tarp seemed to have an unearthly glow. The sails were still ripped and in need of repair in some places, and it gave the vessel the feel of a ghost ship, especially when she looked at the somber and cold faces of the crew around her. It made Mercy realize how close it was to becoming everyone’s final voyage. There was still a great deal to do to get ready to sail again, but the repairs would wait until Ailfrius’ body disappeared beneath the waves. Everyone on the crew was there except for Pyron, and even though the captain made a special exemption for him, he clearly wasn’t pleased about it.
Most of the crew was in tears. Even Garnet was crying softly to herself. Those that weren’t in tears were either concentrating on their fury over his death to keep from showing their emotions, or they were fighting back their sorrow. Many of them wanted to appear strong since it seemed like something Ailfrius would want. Mirilee wasn’t crying, but Mercy could feel her cold vindictive fury towards Nicomedes and her stubborn pride that always kept her emotions in check.
To fight her own sorrow, Mercy’s mind kept going back to her conversation with Nicomedes and the events of the day. Anyone in the crew could be the traitor. Her mind continued to go back to Garnet, but she knew that her opinion of Garnet was skewed because of the way that she always treated her. She concentrated and tried to feel out Garnet’s emotions. Garnet was sad and angry. So clearly she was also legitimately sorry that Ailfrius was dead. The problem was, according to the captain, all of the sailors had been together for a long time. It didn’t make any sense why any of them would help Nicomedes.
It could be that Nicomedes was just playing with their heads, but Mercy knew that it had to be something more than that. Everything that he told them was the truth, at least on some level. He also had acknowledged that Mercy was right. He didn’t expect them to survive. Even knowing that something bad was going to happen, didn’t mean that there was a traitor. When Erebus told the Captain about what Pyron had said, he seemed furious just at the insinuation that someone on his crew would consider siding with the man that killed Ailfrius. Looking around, Mercy thought that he might actually be right.
There could be another explanation for how Nicomedes got the blood. Maybe, somehow, he reserved some in his body for later. Maybe Nicomedes was simply confident that reinforcements were coming soon. He could even be trying to get them to think there was a traitor within the group to cause suspicion and doubt so that when they were attacked by another ship they would be divided.
Her more cynical side whispered to her, “Do you really think there isn’t a traitor? Don’t you remember what the others said earlier? Don’t be so stupid and naive.”
Pyron’s words echoed in her mind. “This seems a little too coincidental doesn’t it?”
Then she remembered Erebus’ shadow confirming Pyron’s suspicions on the deck. “Think about it. The crew that killed that whale didn’t salvage the oil, as though they knew that we have an ex-whaler onboard who couldn’t resist taking the time to try. Then my host went into frenzy which set us back from repairing our sails. I agree with Pyron on this one. We have a traitor in our midst and a damn clever one who has somehow been feeding information to our enemy.”
Someone had to be getting information to the enemy, but how? And who would betray the crew for Nicomedes or the Water Bloods?
Mercy shook her head and sighed heavily. She felt as though there was something that she was missing, some piece of the puzzle that hadn’t quite fallen into place. She was too exhausted from the battle to figure out what it was and everyone’s spirits were low, bringing hers down as well. She just wanted to concentrate on the funeral and the man who she would never get to know, someone that could’ve been almost a father figure to her if she had a chance to bond with him for just a little longer. The thought finally ma
de her cry. She felt Erebus put his hands around her shoulders and she leaned against him gratefully.
The captain was standing in front of the body making sure that the tarp was pulled tightly. He stood up straight with his back to the crowd for a short time. He made a motion as though he was wiping the sweat from his brow, but Mercy knew better. He was wiping tears from his eyes. Once again, Mercy felt as though her ability to feel someone’s emotions was an invasion of their privacy, but she never felt there was any shame in grieving.
Captain Morrissey sighed heavily and turned around, looking from one face to the next in the crowd. “What can be sai,d about a man like Ailfrius? He was a dependable sailor, a fine crewman, and he was like a father to me. Many of us felt that he could never die, that he was the living spirit of The Serpent Queen.”
The cook, a short, chubby man named Jonas with a peg replacing his left foot blew his nose loudly next to Mercy. Incenda gently put a hand on his shoulder and he managed a weak smile. Mercy wanted the funeral to be over. It was just too much emotional strain. Somehow, she managed to keep her emotions in check, even forcing herself to look at the canvas that served as Ailfrius’ coffin.
The captain continued, “We were honored to know him. His stories entertained us on many rough nights. Many of you knew him as the first mate on this ship, but something that many of you might not know is the fact that Ailfrius was the one who taught me what I know about being a captain.”
There was a murmur of wonder from the crew.
“That’s right. He owned The Serpent Queen before he passed her to me. He insisted that he remain my first mate and that no one should know that he was the one who used to be the captain. He was afraid it would undermine my authority. That was the kind of man he was, always thinking of others first.”
Mercy buried her face in her hands, thinking of his warning to her that she shouldn’t go into the Ashen capital, and the fact he let her make the decision for herself. She wished she had stayed onboard now more than anything, but there was nothing that she could do about it now.