Brett frowned. “I’m not sure what can be done. I get where Trudie is coming from, but she should have calmed down long ago. Candace, if you look past what she’s done, is not a bad girl. She’s quite sweet.”
“She’s very sweet! But…yeah. I don’t know how to get through to Trudie. But it’s not just her. Pranish has been seething as well. He is angry at Trudie but has been staying away from Candace as if following Trudie’s wishes. It hasn’t been good for him. Candace and him really hit it off. About wizardry. You know?”
Brett frowned. “Could Trudie possibly think he’s…”
“Oh, Athena, no! Even Trudie isn’t that unreasonable. If she’s jealous of anything, it’s that Pranish has someone whom he can speak to about his magic. Well, had someone. Now that he isn’t even talking to Candace, they’re both lonely.”
I rubbed my chin, thoughtfully.
“Could you possibly, you know, have guy time with him?” I suggested.
Brett frowned. “We don’t have much in common. And there’s no pool tables here to entertain us silently.”
His frown deepened as he figured out how to reach our brooding wizarding friend. Finally, he nodded
“But…I’ll try.”
I smiled, warmly. “Thanks. Love you.”
Brett and I split up, commencing Operation Undramatisation.
“So, Agent Callahan assigned to Pranish duty,” Treth said, manifesting on a railing and showing off his unnatural balance as he stood on one leg. “Which theatre of battle are you going to pursue, Commander.”
“Been watching a bit too many war films, have we?”
Treth grinned. I shook my head. Bastard didn’t have a care in the world. He was already dead, after all.
Brett could handle Pranish. Wasn’t the hard task. Just needed to get his morale up. The real hard task was getting Trudie to see reason.
Trudie often stayed above deck. She still had a sensitive stomach and the fresh air helped stave off the worst of the symptoms. And, failing that, better to lose her lunch overboard than onboard.
I scoured the deck for my friend, looking for black jackets, shirts, skirts and make up, but found none. Some of Ironfoot’s deckhands hadn’t seen her. I was just about to try below deck when I spotted a head of fiery red hair, topping a face covered in splotches of white paint.
“Senegal? You know the paint is meant to go on the hull, right?”
Kyong let out a snort of amusement. He held a paint roller and was busy dipping it into a tray that Senegal was holding. The Tiger Fist was impeccably clean of paint of any hue.
“Commander…Kat! Ah, yeah. Big wave hit the side…”
“Starboard,” Kyong offered.
“Starboard side and made me spill. Some of it got on Kyong but…”
“Reflector shielding.” Kyong grinned.
“Anyone tell you that your powers are very similar to a starship from a sci-fi novel?” I asked, impressed.
Kyong’s proud smirk deepened as he turned back to his work.
I turned back to Senegal.
“Do you know where Trudie is?”
Senegal’s eyes widened, as he visibly became anxious. I took a step forward.
“The alpha? I…I don’t actually know. She said she wanted to be left alone.”
“To sulk, most likely.” I sighed, shaking my head.
“Kyong, do you need Sen here or can that hook over there do his job for him?” I asked, feeling the need to talk to our red wolf.
“And take away his sense of purpose?!” Kyong exclaimed wryly.
“Only for a few moments. Can I have a moment, Sen?”
Senegal hesitated, but then hung the tray off the hook (which was its intended purpose) and followed me to a vacant part of the deck out of earshot of anyone else.
“What you want to talk about?” he asked, somewhat nervous. Was this really the wolf who had growled at us during the confrontation?
“There’s been a lot of drama onboard lately. I’m wanting to get your honest opinion about it.”
Senegal fidgeted, looking at his feet.
“I’m not going to report you to your alpha. And I’m not against her, either. She’s my friend. But so is Candace. I’m just trying to sort out everyone’s shit.”
“I…I don’t dislike Candace. She seems nice. But…I have to follow my alpha’s lead. She doesn’t trust her.”
I looked closely at Senegal. His cheeks were red. He averted his gaze. Hiding something? Or a quirk of a werewolf around an authority figure? I knew that werewolves considered looking into the eyes as a challenge. Made intimacy hard.
“Trudie has her reasons,” I replied. “Reasons I think should be challenged, but that’s not for you to worry about. How are you…in all this?”
He frowned. “I am glad I’m with the alpha. But…I miss dry land.”
“So do I. We’re almost there, though.”
I paused, considering what to ask next. I wasn’t close friends with Senegal. Maybe not even friends. He was part of Trudie’s impromptu pack. What I did know about him was that he spent almost all his time with his alpha. And that, when he was away from her, he grew anxious.
“Do you like Trudie?” I blurted out. Even Treth was shocked by my bluntness. But, surprisingly, Senegal wasn’t.
“Trudie is a good alpha,” he replied, without a hint of deceit. “She’s fun. Gareth was not cruel, but he was a disciplinarian. Which wasn’t wrong. The job of an alpha is to keep the wolf inside us tame. I think there’s many different ways to do that. Gareth used the threat of the stick and some carrots. Trudie…she gives a lot of carrots. Maybe, too many. But she makes me earn them. Which is good. I haven’t felt the wolf taking over at all…except maybe…”
When Trudie got angry, he wanted to say.
“That doesn’t really answer my question,” I replied, interested in his explanations but needing to solve all this.
“Oh, sorry. But…it’s just that I don’t know if I like Trudie. You don’t choose your alpha. It just happens.”
This was getting frustrating. “I mean…do you have feelings for her?”
Senegal looked nonplussed, until he realised what I was saying, and his mouth opened in shock.
“Oh? Oh! No, no! I’m not beta. I can’t be beta. That’s Pranish’s position.”
“Even if he isn’t a werewolf?” I wondered if Pranish knew he was considered Trudie’s beta.
“Only an alpha needs to be a wolf,” Senegal explained. “A betas job is to support the alpha. They can be anything. And Pranish is a good beta. Even now.”
Very interesting.
“Thank you, Sen. I appreciate the info.”
I bid him farewell.
“That was some good info,” I whispered, out of earshot. Treth appeared, nodding.
“The drama of the living isn’t really my cup of tea, but I do appreciate that we’re unravelling some secrets,” he commented.
“And it didn’t even need to be a secret. If only these fools would be more open with one another!”
“You’re one to talk!”
“Shush!”
I still hadn’t accomplished my task, however. I needed to get to the root of the problem. Unfortunately, while I was used to taking an axe to the roots of anything that inconvenienced me, I couldn’t do the same for Trudie. Even if she could probably shrug it off.
At least we had confirmed that Senegal wasn’t in love with Trudie. Pranish could rest easy. That was at least one problem I didn’t have to worry about now. I definitely didn’t want to be caught inside a love triangle between two werewolves and a wizard.
I descended below deck, pausing to allow my eyes to adjust. This ship wasn’t mammoth, but there were plenty of nooks and crannies to hide in. And if Trudie was moving around, I could possibly never run into her.
“Treth, could you go scouting? Find Trudie and let me know where she is.”
“Yes, boss.” Treth saluted and strode down the hallway.
Finding
her would be hard but wouldn’t be the hardest part. I let out a deep sigh. What was I going to say to her?
The muffled sound of Candace speaking brought me to attention, as her voice wafted through the corridor.
“I read today… Yes, same book…. I don’t know. Just something about it…”
She paused between every sentence. As if waiting to hear a reply. But I heard no other voice. It could be someone quieter.
Admittedly a bit curious, I walked softly down the hall towards the open door of Candace’s cabin.
“I know I should have brought more books along. But I don’t mind. Do you think Kat would like it?”
I peeked around the corner, expecting to find Candace speaking to the soft-spoken Gidget or another crewmate. Maybe Pranish. But instead, I found her alone, sitting on her bed and staring into space.
My excited smile at the possibility of Candace finding a friend disappeared.
I’d seen Candace do this before. It seemed she hadn’t stopped. Even after all this time.
“What would I like?” I asked, stepping around the corner.
Candace’s glazed over eyes cleared and she looked shocked at my presence. Her cheeks went red.
I stepped forward and took a seat next to her on the bed.
“I…I know they aren’t really here,” she said, fast. Defensively.
“I know.”
“But…it’s just easier to pretend they are.”
“I understand.”
Candace went silent, as she bit her bottom lip. In her hands she held a copy of a Roald Dahl book. Matilda.
“I did enjoy it,” I said, indicating the book.
Candace smiled, faintly, and clutched the book closer to her heart. I suspected that the book held a lot more meaning to her than it did to me. Its frayed edges and worn cover spoke more than words ever could.
“I knew it wouldn’t become easier,” she finally said. “After I failed…I knew that the darkness wouldn’t ever really leave me alone. Even if it did, I still remember what I did. I always will. Wizards have good memory.”
She snorted, as if it was funny.
“I’m going to talk to Trudie,” I said. “She’s my friend, and so are you. I know you two can get along.”
Candace looked down, as if examining her shoes. Or hiding her tears.
“I don’t blame her. She should hate me.”
“Don’t say stuff like that! Nobody should hate you.”
“Really?!” She looked at me with tearful eyes but a stern expression. “What about the mothers of children I killed? The people in the slums who still live under the gangs I armed? What about Mrs Montague? I’ve…I’ve killed so many people, I lost count a long time ago…I don’t deserve forgiveness.”
“I forgave you, Candace. Because I knew it wasn’t you who did that…”
“But it was me. Darkness or not. I went down that path. I made others pay the price.”
She shook her head, as if banishing a dreaded thought. “No. I was evil. Maybe, I still am. I shouldn’t be forgiven. Or pitied. All I can hope for is that I one day redeem myself. And until then…I deserve whatever punishment I receive…”
Treth appeared by my side, his mouth open and ready to tell me Trudie’s location. But, seeing Candace’s face, devoid of tears but holding a resigned anguish and guilt that we could perhaps never understand, he remained silent. I wasn’t up for speaking to Trudie after this.
I couldn’t reply to Candace. I spent this time with her in silence, until it was finally my turn to cook dinner.
Chapter 17.
Down Under
I never managed to find time to speak to Trudie alone on the ship. Or figure out the right words that I would say. Despite what Treth and Brett said, I didn’t feel up to managing humans. Give me pixies any day. At least then, I’d know they’d never listen to me.
Brett and Pranish’s guy time hadn’t been fruitless, at least. Alongside one of Ironside’s human crewmates, they started playing boardgames. A lot of them. Apparently, the crew member was a collector, but nobody ever wanted to play with him. He assumed we’d be the same, being “rough hunter types”.
Oh boy, was he wrong!
Rekindling a love of gaming, we started playing boardgames every evening. The Warp Wars Tabletop game, which saw Brett apply his Corps training into controlling a squad of elite troopers against Pranish and my less organised forces. Pixie Poker, which even Ironfoot joined in, taking the grand pot and then buying us all some local cuisine at a port town. Candace and Trudie even managed to put their differences aside to play some Settlers of Stradgorf. Trudie targeted Candace throughout the game, allowing Senegal to seize victory. She was so shocked at her thoughtlessness that she actually laughed for what seemed the first time in a long time.
This was all topped by Pranish taking up his role as dungeon master again and hosting a homebrew campaign of Dungeons & Dragons. We used to play a lot of the game when we were kids. The new module had updated to make magic reflect what it was like in real life, allowing for a grittier and more realistic setting. It wasn’t lost on me that the villain of Pranish’s campaign was Darius. Candace’s minotaur bard got the final blow in and tore him down with quite a pithy insult.
There was still tension onboard. A lot of drama. But no one had tried to kill one another. And no arguments were made in the open or out loud.
Gaming may not solve all issues, but it brought us together, at least. And even if some things that needed to be said were still unsaid, at least we had managed to form some sort of truce. Captain Ironfoot was, at least, satisfied.
I had lost track of the days/weeks/months since we left Hope City. But, with an announcement from Ironfoot that we were pulling into port, I knew that the journey was almost over.
With the sound of seagulls, ship horns and excited crewmen, I ascended the stairway to the deck to find almost all the crew on-deck. Only Ironfoot, his ship pilot and Gidget were too busy ensuring we got into port safely. The rest were looking out with awed expressions. I saw Candace and Trudie near each other. Nearer than they had been even when playing boardgames. But they weren’t glaring or wincing at each other. Their attention was glued to the shoreline.
I sidled past Brett and Pranish and froze at the sight.
Warships. More than I could count. Battleships, destroyers, cruisers, frigates. I wasn’t a naval expert, but I’d played enough Battleships to know some things.
The warships were an icy grey and blue, perforated with kill holes and covered with swivelling turrets and cannons. Posts lined the decks, bearing runes that would provide a semblance of shielding, and slotted bunkers would provide cover for the war-mages on board. The ships were adorned with black painted text on their sides. Many started with HMAS, but many more were HMNZ. And they bore names like Joseph Rupert Balfe and John Fenley McDonald. They bore their names proudly. Like a Medieval crusader carrying a cross into battle. Carrying the symbols of their martyr.
As we drifted closer and closer to port, smaller boats carrying armed men wearing Anzac khaki came to investigate. Backing them up were blue robed figures, with dark eyes. They hummed with barely contained power.
The Honour of the Unforgotten halted and Ironfoot made his way to the deck to greet a naval officer as he came aboard. The man was young. Perhaps, my age. And his eyes spoke of an intense anticipation.
“Thank you, Captain,” the officer said, paging through Ironfoot’s passes and paperwork. “But you will have to remain on your ship. We can refuel and resupply you by boat, for a fee.”
“Aye, that’ll be fine, lad,” Ironfoot said, as if speaking to an old friend, even though they didn’t seem to know each other.
The dwarf looked past the officer towards the flotilla of ships preparing for war. He whistled. I didn’t know if it was from nerves or being impressed.
“Ready for a right ol’ scrap?” he asked.
The officer looked out towards the fleet.
“I had family in Auckland,” he s
aid, staring off into the distance. A thousand-yard stare. The type you often didn’t even see on hunters. We killed monsters. For some, it was like a game. But for this man, and those like him…there wasn’t anything glorious about what they needed to do.
“We’re going to kill every knife-ears we can,” the officer muttered, before tipping his hat in farewell and climbing back down to his vessel.
Out of line of sight from any Anzac troops, Ironfoot shook his head. Silvertide patted him on the back, wordlessly assuring him of…something.
“What is this all for, Kat?” Candace asked, whispering, as another destroyer heaved past our ship towards port.
Its guns could devastate a dragon. What if we could use these tools on monsters? A zombie horde wouldn’t stand up to a single shot from one of these beasts.
“They’re preparing for war,” I answered, simply.
Candace’s expression suggested that she wasn’t all too familiar with what was going on.
“I’ve seen the ports outside Shaka. The largest army in Africa wasn’t half the size of what I see here now. I knew that New Zealand was still blockading New Sintar, but…this is something else.”
“Australia and New Zealand are one country now,” I replied. “United by vengeance.”
I gazed on the names of the ships again, bearing the names of martyrs of Gallipoli.
“These two countries have always been united by struggle,” I continued. “And, with otherworlders on their doorstep…”
I didn’t know what to think. It was surreal. I had read about the World Wars. Watched films. Played games. But I had never seen something like this before. The armies of two nations, covering the shore till you could see nothing but hull, cannon and ensign.
“This is good, isn’t it?” Candace asked. “If Anzac is working with us, then we’ll surely be able to save your aunt.”
I frowned. Candace was right. I couldn’t bust through the Sintari lines by myself. No matter how big my head got, I wasn’t a god. And even gods were more mortal than we’d like to believe.
This was good. I had to think so. Because, if one of the largest fleets that had ever graced this sea couldn’t bust through New Sintar’s defences, I definitely couldn’t.
The Silver Star (Kat Drummond Book 11) Page 14