Empire of Night

by Justin Somper

  Jasmine nodded. Her thoughts were still with Connor. When Jacoby had first used the word dhampir , it had seemed too ridiculous. But the more she thought about it, the more it started to make a crazy kind of sense. She realized that it was time to accept two truths. One, Connor Tempest and his sister might actually be dhampirs. Two, whatever Connor might or might not be, she was falling in love with him.

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  22 CHANGES

  As Lorcan stepped into the captain's cabin (he couldn't help thinking of it this way, even though it had been occupied by Mosh Zu for a good while now), he found Mosh Zu and Darcy waiting for him, sitting in chairs by the hearth. Darcy glanced up, with evident relief. Though she smiled, it was all too easy to detect the stresses and strains beneath the surface. Mosh Zu's smooth features were harder to read. He nodded to Lorcan and raised his hand in welcome.

  "I'm sorry I'm late," Lorcan said. "And for the state I'm in." He looked disheveled, his hair plastered to his forehead and his clothes damp from the rain, which had begun falling heavily out on deck. "I intended to clean up after combat training, but time ran away with me."

  Mosh Zu shook his head. "No problem. You made it

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  ahead of Grace's expected arrival. How did the latest training session go?"

  Lorcan sighed as he sat down on the sofa, his wet boots resting on the rug. "The usual mixed bag," he said, stretching one arm along the sofa's edge. "Some of the crew are really throwing themselves into it. They understand how important it is and how much things are changing in our realm."

  "What about the others?" Darcy inquired.

  Lorcan shook his head. "They don't get it at all. Their heads are buried in the sand. They want, and expect, things to be just as they always were."

  Darcy frowned and shook her head. "Don't they remember what it was like when Sidorio and the others rebelled?" Her face grew yet more troubled. "And when he came back and Jez... I mean Stukeley... when Stukeley led the revolt against the captain himself? It was on a Feast Night. They were all there. How could they not remember?" Darcy was looking at Mosh Zu as she finished speaking, but it was Lorcan who answered her question.

  "They choose not to remember. They shut it out. Pretend that everything is just as it always was. When I tell them that the captain has sent word that we must prepare ourselves for a new era, they just look vacant. It's as if some of them have already forgotten him."

  "No!" Darcy gasped.

  "And others just assume that when he does return, the

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  old routines will continue. They can't accept that things will never be the same for us." Lorcan looked up guiltily into Mosh Zu's almond eyes. "I'm sorry to complain," he said. "I am doing my best, but this isn't an easy mission."

  Darcy shook her head. "It's my fault. I was charged with persuading the crew that times are changing and that they need to change with them. I thought I was making inroads, but I see now that most of them have just been turning a blind eye."

  Mosh Zu rose to his feet, smiling. "Please, both of you, don't be so hard on yourselves. This was never going to be a swift process, and from my observations you are both doing a far better job than you give yourselves credit for." He stood by the mantel, looking warmly at them both. "I never expected this to be easy, my friends, but I do believe that you will succeed. If I have any advice for you both, it is to focus first on those who do understand the situation. Get them ready and then let them spread the knowledge to the others, like ripples in a pool."

  Lorcan nodded. He noticed Darcy looking strangely at him for a moment, but as he met her glance, she pulled away and addressed Mosh Zu.

  "Do you have any more news of our captain? Of when he's coming back? I'm sure Grace will ask us when she arrives."

  "Yes," Mosh Zu said. "I expect she will."

  Just then, he looked to the door. "Come in!" he said.

  The door did not open but, suddenly, Grace was inside

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  the cabin, standing before them. She was all smiles. "I made it!" she said. "I wasn't sure if I could do it, but I can see the three of you and the cabin."

  "And we can see you," Mosh Zu said. "Welcome, Grace. You look well." Smiling at her, he sat down again and beckoned to her to come closer.

  Grace walked toward the others, though in reality she was still in her cabin aboard The Vagabond , and this was only an astral projection of herself. She was dressed in a long white toga, embroidered in gold and silver thread. Her hair had been teased into elaborate ringlets and braids. Gold earrings dangled from her ears.

  Darcy clapped her hands. "That's quite an outfit you have on, Grace. And your hair!"

  Grace lifted her hand to her head, smiling. "Do you like it?" she asked. As Darcy nodded, she continued. "It took absolutely ages to do. Nathalie and Jacqui did it for me, while I did readings of them and some of the other girls to pass the time. Oh, and the toga was made for me by Lola's favorite designer. We're having a portrait painted later--me and Connor, Sidorio, and Lola. Lola thought it would be fun if we dressed up in Roman outfits. The stitching is real gold."

  Darcy reached out her hand, frustrated that she couldn't actually touch the fabric. "It looks amazing," she said. "I can tell how fine it is just by looking at it."

  Lorcan stared at Grace, wondering what had happened to the feisty companion he'd left on the beach only a few

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  days before. He saw Mosh Zu observing her shrewdly, too. At last, she paused to notice Lorcan. She turned and looked directly at him. Though it was what he'd been waiting for, the strength of her gaze unsettled him. He felt deeply self-conscious. "I look rough," he said apologetically. "I just came from training."

  "You look good," she said, her eyes seeming to trace every line of his body. There was a new look in her eyes that could only be described as hungry. She smiled and sat down in the seat beside him. "All that training is doing wonders for your physique."

  Lorcan flushed, anxious to change the subject. "So you're having a portrait painted with the others?"

  "Yes," Grace said. "A family portrait. Lola's idea, of course--she's into that kind of thing. I'm sure Connor's dreading the thought of sitting still for hours on end, but apparently Lola's got some legendary artist to do it. Caravaggio, I think he's called."

  Her words rushed out at breakneck speed and Lorcan struggled to keep up, let alone stem the flow. At last, she drew a breath, allowing him to speak. "It sounds like you've settled in well," he said. Looking at Mosh Zu, he added, "A bit too well, perhaps?"

  Mosh Zu smiled and shook his head. "We wanted Grace to infiltrate the renegade empire, and it sounds as if she is doing that very successfully."

  Lorcan noticed Darcy giving him a knowing look once

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  more as Mosh Zu turned to Grace. "How are you finding the experience so far?"

  Grace smiled brightly at Mosh Zu. "It's fine," she said. "To be honest, it's much less scary than I expected. In their own way, Sidorio and Lola are doing everything possible to make me feel welcome. And the girls--Mimma, Nat, and Jacqui--well, they're really friendly to me." Seeing Darcy's eyes drop, she added, "They'll never be as good friends as you , though." Darcy smiled fleetingly, then shot Lorcan another glance.

  "How's Connor holding up?" inquired Mosh Zu.

  "He's good, too. Though, to be honest with you, I haven't seen that much of him. He's been kept busy on The Blood Captain , and I'm mostly on The Vagabond . We see each other at Tiffin--this nightly get-together for key personnel of both ships--but that's about it." She raced to get the words out.

  She had, thought Lorcan, a new energy to her; a somewhat nervous energy. Maybe it was the stress of being somewhere new and bearing the burden of such an important mission. He fervently hoped so.

  "Have you seen much of Johnny?" he asked her.

  Grace reached out her hand and, though she couldn't touch him, laid hers on top of his. "Not so much," she said. "Except to say hello to." Lorcan bit his lip.
Noticing this, Grace added, "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about."

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  "I do trust you," Lorcan said. "Of course I do." He frowned. "It's Johnny I don't trust."

  "Tell me what's going on with all of you," Grace said brightly. "How's your combat training going, Lorcan? And Darcy, what about your mission? Oh, and tell me, Mosh Zu, has the captain returned yet?"

  Her words were spilling out faster and faster now. Lorcan and Darcy looked at Mosh Zu with dismay.

  Mosh Zu replied to Grace, seemingly unconcerned by the change in her demeanor. "The captain has not yet returned," he said. "But he will, very soon. He is getting stronger night by night. He is looking forward to being among us all again."

  "That's good," Grace said. "Please, when you next see him or talk to him, send him my..." She broke off, distracted. "Did you hear that? Someone's at my door."

  Mosh Zu nodded. "You had better go," he said.

  "Grace!" It was Mimma's voice. "They're all waiting for you in the captain's cabin. Signor Caravaggio is setting up his paints, and Lola says to get a move on."

  Grace looked apologetically at her comrades. "I'm sorry. I had better go. I wish..."

  "It's okay," Mosh Zu said.

  "We'll see you tomorrow night," Darcy said firmly. "Same time."

  "Yes," Grace said, a touch absentmindedly. Then she called out to Mimma, "I'm coming, hon!"

  Frustrated, and overflowing with emotion, Lorcan

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  reached out to Grace. "Be careful, Grace! Please, be careful!" But his hand fell straight through her image and, before he had even finished speaking, she had completely faded from view.

  Lorcan stood up and smashed his fist angrily against the arm of the sofa. He let out a deep sigh, then turned to face the others. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm really worried about her. They're getting to her. She looks different. She sounds different. She has this weird new energy. I knew it was a mistake sending her in."

  "You underestimate her," Mosh Zu said, rising to his feet once more. "She's the only one of us who could have undertaken this mission. And, don't you see, she only seems different because she is adapting to her surroundings, like a chameleon. She's doing just what she needs to in order to win their trust."

  "How can you be sure that's all it is?" Lorcan asked.

  "We'll keep a close eye on her," Mosh Zu said. He crossed the room to stand beside Lorcan. "You're tired," he said. "No wonder. We're only halfway through the night, and look what you've already achieved. Go and get some rest. Your worries will weigh on you less." He rested his arm lightly on Lorcan's shoulder.

  "All right," Lorcan said. "But if we think Grace is getting out of her depth, you must let me go and fetch her back. Will you promise me that?"

  Mosh Zu seemed to weigh up his words. "I don't believe it will come to that," he said. "But, be assured, my friend,

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  that I would never place Grace in a position I did not think she could handle."

  "Come on," Darcy said, taking Lorcan's arm. "Mosh Zu's right, you need your rest. I'll walk you to your cabin." She nodded formally at Mosh Zu as she propelled Lorcan toward the cabin door.

  "Good work, my friends!" Mosh Zu called after them.

  Once they were a safe distance away from the captain's cabin, Lorcan turned to Darcy. "I'm worried about Grace," he said. "You and Mosh Zu might not be, but I know her better...."

  "Excuse me!" Darcy exclaimed huffily. "You might be Grace's boyfriend, but I'm her best friend, so I think I know her just as well as you, maybe better. And I'm every bit as worried about her as you are. Something was up with her tonight. I can't put my finger on it exactly, but something wasn't right."

  Lorcan was relieved someone else shared his concern. "How come you and I saw it, but Mosh Zu didn't?"

  Darcy leaned against the corridor wall. "I know that Mosh Zu is incredibly wise and has many powers, and I'm going to sound really disloyal with what I'm about to say." She hesitated.

  "Go on," Lorcan urged her.

  "I think that Mosh Zu has been so far removed from

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  real life, up high in the clouds at Sanctuary, that he's finding standing in for the captain a huge stretch. I think he's struggling. He's a healer, not a leader. He doesn't understand the complexities of running a ship, and I actually don't think he relates to people that well on a night-to-night basis. If I hear him tell me to watch the ripples spreading in a pool again, or any more of that stuff, I think I may scream." She came to an abrupt halt. "Oh dear, you're thinking ditzy Darcy's really lost her mind, aren't you?"

  Lorcan shook his head. "On the contrary," he said, his voice firm but soft. "You've articulated it better than I ever could have. I feel just the same. I have the utmost respect for Mosh Zu, but he isn't the captain, our captain." He frowned. "We've been given this impossible task. For as long as The Nocturne has sailed, the crew has been conditioned to abandon violence and conflict and embrace ways of peace. Now, all of a sudden, we have to turn pacifists into a fighting force to rival not only Sidorio and his henchmen but the pirates, too. We're doomed to failure."

  "No," Darcy said. "Mosh Zu was right about one thing. The task might seem daunting, but we are starting to make progress. We must carry on our work, making things right for the captain's return."

  "Yes," Lorcan said, Darcy's belief reigniting the fire inside his own soul.

  "Mosh Zu wasn't the right choice to stand in for the

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  captain in his absence," Darcy said. "It should have been someone who knows this crew, and the ways of this ship."

  "What are you saying?" Lorcan asked.

  "I think you know what I'm saying," she said softly and slowly, her wide eyes boring into his.

  Lorcan frowned, dropping his voice to a whisper. "You're surely not suggesting that we rebel against Mosh Zu?"

  "No!" Darcy shook her head vigorously, her sleek bobbed hair swinging around her face. "Of course not! We have to sit tight for now. Keep a close eye on Grace--a very close eye--and patiently await the captain's return. In the interim, we must do Mosh Zu's bidding, but that needn't stop us from thinking our own thoughts, or talking to one another like this, need it?"

  "No, Darcy," Lorcan said. "No, indeed not." He looked at her and shook his head. "You've changed," he said. "You're changing."

  She nodded. "It's true. And I'm not the only one, Mister Muscles." She reached out and lightly prodded his bicep. Then, her tone grew more serious. "Oh, Lorcan," she said. "Don't you see? We have to change. All of us. And fast. Otherwise, there is no future for this ship, or for any of us. Everything that the captain worked so hard to build, for so long, will all just fall away. We can't let that happen."

  Lorcan nodded, drawing her toward him. "You're right," he said. "We can't. And we won't."

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  23 FIRST BLOOD

  "Nice outfit!"

  Connor cringed as he heard Stukeley's voice behind him in the corridor. He turned and found Stukeley and Johnny striding toward him.

  "It really shows off Connor's legs, don't you think, Johnny?"

  "Oh yes!" Johnny said. The two Vampirates cracked up laughing.

  Connor stood there, nodding and waiting for their laughter to subside. They weren't telling him anything he didn't already know. He did look silly in the toga Lola had insisted he wear for the family portrait. It was bad enough he'd had to sit in it for the better part of two hours. He couldn't wait to change out of it.

  "You know the best part--" Stukeley began.

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  "Well, obviously, it's the gold laurel wreath!" Johnny exclaimed.

  Connor flushed. Was he still wearing that? He reached up and grabbed it.

  "No, mate," continued Stukeley. "No, the best part is that when the portrait is finished, we'll be able to look at Connor dressed in all his finery every single night!"

  Connor groaned. He hadn't thought of that before. Worse and worse. "Thanks, lads," he said. "You've re
ally made me feel better. Nice work!"

  "We're only teasing!" Stukeley said, nudging Johnny. "Except the part about your legs!"

  "Okay," Connor said. "That's enough! I'm going to my cabin to get changed into something normal, and then we can continue this conversation."

  Connor couldn't get the toga and assorted Roman accessories off quickly enough. He was tempted to throw the hellish outfit away but suspected that Lola had paid a tidy sum for it so, instead, he slung it to the very back of his closet. Then he took out a selection of his regular clothes and carried them over to the bed. As he did so, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. He noticed that the outside of his thigh, where Sidorio had wounded him with the flail a few nights before, no longer showed any trace of the wound. He ran his fingers over his skin. There

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  was a slight scar where the flesh had knitted itself back together, but it was amazing how quickly and cleanly the deep wound had healed.

  As he stepped into a fresh pair of pants, he felt the ship lurch into motion and had to steady himself to remain balanced. It wasn't unusual for the ship to move off during the night, though he hadn't expected them to ship out so soon. He buttoned up his pants and reached for his shirt.

  There was a knock on the cabin door.

  "Give me a minute!" Connor called. "I'm still getting changed out of my fancy dress!"

  No doubt it was Stukeley and Johnny back for a few more easy laughs. Well, at least he wouldn't be fueling their fire anymore by wearing a gold-embroidered dress. In truth, he didn't mind their jokes. Stukeley was an old friend, and Johnny already felt like one. It made Connor think back to the days of the Three Buccaneers. He missed Bart, but maybe it was time for a new configuration of the trio. After all, Bart was mortal. These days, Connor had rather more in common with Stukeley and Johnny.