Connor shook his head. “You and I both know that this alliance is only born out of pragmatism. Once the threat of Sidorio is eliminated, the old dividing lines will soon reemerge.”
Cheng Li frowned. “You underestimate what a revolution in thinking there has been at the heart of the pirate world. And, in so many ways, you and your sister are responsible for it. Before you and Grace came onto the scene, all we knew of the Vampirates was that old shanty and a slew of bogeyman stories. We were guilty of lazy thinking. But as the cracks began to emerge in the Vampirate world, with your father’s… with Sidorio’s rebellion and his allegiance to Lola Lockwood, well, we’ve seen a truer picture not only of the evil that stalks the oceans but of the goodness, too. Over the past six months, I have come to know Obsidian Darke as a trusted ally. I won’t lie to you—he can be frustrating as all hell to work with—but I have no doubt whatsoever that he is a good man.”
Connor shook his head once more, pushing back his chair. “He isn’t a man,” he said. “Nor is his deputy, my sister’s great love, Lorcan Furey. And nor am I. We’re none of us men. We’re monsters, demons!” Tears welled in his emerald green eyes.
Cheng Li rose calmly from her own chair. “You are all men,” she said. “Whatever else you may or may not be, you are all good men.”
At these words, to her surprise, Connor leaned toward her. Then, to her even greater surprise, she found herself opening up her arms and drawing her deputy into a hug. As her arms gripped his shuddering body, she realized that a terrible tension had been building within him. “Let it out,” she found herself saying. “Connor, let it all out.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, drawing back from her arms.
“Here,” she said, passing him a handkerchief. “Dry your eyes.”
“Thanks.”
Cheng Li watched him, then caught his attention once more. “Connor,” she said softly, “you are taking that berry tea that Grace sends over, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“Good. Because Obsidian assured me that it was—”
“I’m taking it,” he said. “Every night. Just like Obsidian and Grace said to.”
Cheng Li nodded. She had no desire to come across as any more maternal than she had already. “Keep taking the tea,” she said. “And keep up the excellent work!” Her eyes brightened. “Not one of us knows quite what this voyage has in store for us, but I happen to think that life would be pretty boring if we did.”
Connor finally cracked a grin. “Right now, I could handle a big bowl of boring,” he said, offering her back the now-sodden handkerchief.
Cheng Li wrinkled her nose. “You can keep it.” She glanced once more at her clock. “Well, I think we’re both up to date. Do you want to go and ask Cate to join me? We’ve got an attack to plan.”
Bo Yin was just about to finish her shift in the crow’s nest. As she glanced below once more, she saw a lanky figure jump up onto the deck of The Tiger. She scanned the deck to call for reinforcements but saw, to her horror, that it was empty. She wanted to cry out—There’s a war going on, people!—but she kept her cool. She was just going to have to deal with this situation herself. Stealthily, she climbed to the edge of the crow’s nest. Then, letting out a piercing war cry, she somersaulted down to the deck, landing perfectly on her toes, with her sword outstretched toward the intruder.
The trespasser—a tall teenage boy—laughed. “So it’s true what they say about you lot. Slash first and ask questions later.”
Bo Yin’s eyes narrowed. “You!” she said.
“That’s right, pookachoo,” he said. “Me! I’m a bit of a legend in pirating circles. The Next Big Thing! I’m not surprised you’ve heard all about me.”
Bo Yin nodded. “Nothing good, though,” she said, unable to suppress a smile.
“Cheeky!” Moonshine grinned back at her. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Bo Yin,” she said. “You may have heard of my father. He is a genuine legend in pirating circles.”
“Indeed he is.” Moonshine nodded, clearly impressed. “For my fifth birthday, my dad took me to Lantao to watch your dad make me my first sword. It was the best birthday gift ever.”
“You’ve been to my father’s workshop?” Bo said, somewhat disconcerted.
Moonshine nodded. “Yes, I have.” He smirked. “Hey, I remember this crazy little kid racing about all over the place, wanting to play-fight with me. That wasn’t you, was it?”
“Maybe.” Bo blushed. “I don’t remember.”
Moonshine’s eyes bore into hers. “Well, Bo Yin, it’s nice to catch up with you after all these years. Now, will you spare me the cutlass so I can beg an audience with your esteemed leader? Or should we have a duel right here and now?”
“So!” exclaimed Moonshine, prowling around Cheng Li’s cabin. “This is the nerve center of the Alliance war effort.”
Cheng Li folded her arms and nodded. “Pretty much,” she said.
Moonshine seemed utterly transfixed by the many charts, crew lists, and diagrams pinned to the wall. Cheng Li studied him, thinking that despite his latest growth spurt, he seemed like an excitable kid feverishly exploring a playroom of new and amazing toys.
“Isn’t it risky to keep information like this on display?” Moonshine asked. “What if one of those scumbag Vamps managed to force its way in here?”
Cheng Li arched an eyebrow. “I hardly think that crew lists and navigation charts, though vital to us, are sensitive documents. Rest assured, the really important stuff is kept in my safe.”
Moonshine’s eyes bulged with interest. “And where’s that?” he asked.
“Need-to-know basis,” said Cheng Li with a smile.
Moonshine scanned the room. “My guess is behind the family portrait,” he said, gazing at the portrait of Chang Ko Li, Cheng Li’s father, which hung above the captain’s desk. It was clear that his interest lay less in the picture itself and more in the possibilities that lay behind it. Cheng Li remained insouciant though he had guessed correctly. Shrugging, Moonshine turned away, his attention soon alighting elsewhere. “And what’s this?”
Moonshine had walked over to a round diorama. The central display was made of turquoise glass and bordered by a silver rail. The turquoise glass was rippled, evidently to represent the ocean. Leaning against the silver rail to scrutinize the display more closely, Moonshine saw that through the glass ran red lines of latitude and longitude. The undulating glass ocean was covered with small models of ships—roughly half of them red; the other half blue.
Cheng Li came over to join him. “This,” she said, “shows to our best knowledge the latest recorded positions of all the key Alliance and Vampirate vessels. Ours are the blue ones; theirs, for reasons I’m sure you can fathom, are red.”
Moonshine let out a breath and gazed at the display as if it were the best toy ever. “You mean you can pinpoint exactly where The Diablo is right now?”
Cheng Li nodded. “Look for a red ship numbered five.” She passed him a miniature telescope. “This might be useful,” she said.
As Moonshine stared through the eyepiece, he felt his spine begin to tingle as each of the blue and red ships came to life, charting their urgent paths across the swelling ocean. He felt his heart begin to race. This moving multitude of vessels was both terrifying and thrilling; an epic conflict and here he was, right at the epicenter of it.
“Any joy?” Cheng Li asked.
“What? Oh, er, no.” Moonshine brought his excitement under control. The ships ceased their motion, becoming painted models once more. He scanned their tiny sails for the all-important number. At last, he saw it.
“There she is!” he cried. He removed the telescope from his eye and used the small instrument to point out the model to Cheng Li.
“Ah, yes,” she said. “Well spotted!”
Moonshine frowned. “She’s red.”
“Of course,” Cheng Li said. “We have the ships dipped in color when they change possession from one side
to the other.”
“And she’s surrounded by a lot of other red ships,” Moonshine observed.
Cheng Li nodded. “Yes. That’s to be expected.”
Moonshine spoke through gritted teeth. “I hope you have some blue paint ready, because you’re going to be in need of it very soon.”
Cheng Li smiled. “Trust me, Captain Wrathe, we have a truckload of blue paint. Our every waking breath is directed toward painting every last ship on this ocean bright blue.”
It was Moonshine’s turn to smile. “I’m still getting used to being called Captain!”
Cheng Li nodded. “It’s your official rank now. The fact that you are not currently in possession of a ship has no bearing on that.”
Letting go of the silver rail, Moonshine drew himself up to his full height, squarely facing Cheng Li. “Have you thought any more about my proposal?” he asked. “Will you really help me put a team together to take back The Diablo?”
For a time, Cheng Li’s intense almond-shaped eyes coolly appraised Moonshine Wrathe, the newest captain in the Federation. There were so many reasons to decline his proposal, yet Cheng Li felt something in her gut that she couldn’t quite explain. She found herself nodding once more. “Yes,” she said. “I’ll help you, Captain Wrathe.”
“That’s awesome, Captain Li!” Moonshine punched the air. “This calls for a drink! I heard you have your own bar in here. Why don’t I whip us up a couple of Coraltinis to celebrate?”
Cheng Li smiled softly. “I suggest we hold off on the celebrations until The Diablo is back under Alliance command. For now, I think some hot seaweed tea would be more appropriate.” She gestured toward her conference table. “Take a seat.”
Moonshine obediently pulled out a chair while Cheng Li poured two bowls of the pungent tea. As she did so, there was a knock at the door.
“Enter!” Cheng Li called, without glancing up.
The door opened and Connor and Jasmine strode into the room, closely followed by Cate. Bo Yin lingered behind the others, in the doorway.
“Right on time,” Cheng Li said with satisfaction, then watched as, to her surprise, Lorcan Furey followed the others into her cabin. She smiled as he approached her. He had lately taken to wearing a steel-gray uniform, which made his blue eyes shine all the more brightly. “Commander Furey,” she said, struggling as she always did in his presence to retain her composure. “How good to see you again.”
Lorcan nodded, somewhat formally, but smiled warmly back at his ally. “You, too, Captain Li. I came over to discuss some strategy matters with Cate. I gather my visit may have proved opportune timing.”
Cheng Li nodded. “Most opportune,” she said. Reluctantly drawing her eyes away from him, she gestured around the table. “Please take a seat, everyone.” She glanced over to the doorway. “You, too, Bo Yin! Come and join us.”
Clearly thrilled to be included, Bo stepped inside and shut the twin panel doors of the captain’s cabin behind her. As she made her way to take her seat beside the others at the captain’s table, she noticed that Moonshine Wrathe was staring at her. Without the others noticing, he gave her a cheeky wink. She turned away, blushing furiously.
“Well now,” Cheng Li said, “I think you all know Moonshine Wrathe, except perhaps for you, Commander Furey?”
Lorcan smiled. “It’s true we haven’t been formally introduced.” He stood up and extended his hand toward Moonshine. Moonshine rose to his feet and they shook hands.
“Commander Furey is one of the most senior-ranking Nocturnals within the Alliance,” said Cheng Li. “He is joint director of military strategy with Cate.”
Moonshine gave the Alliance salute to Lorcan. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander Furey.”
Lorcan returned the gesture. “You, too, Captain Wrathe.”
As the two young men sat down, Cheng Li addressed her comrades once more. “As you know, Moonshine has come up with an intriguing proposition, and I want to garner your opinions on it.” She turned to Jasmine. “If we have any chance of success, the tracking team needs to focus its attention on if and when The Diablo breaks from the Vampirate fleet.”
Jasmine nodded. “Already on it.”
“But also,” Cheng Li added, “if any Vampirate ships start moving in a similar direction once our plans are under way”—she turned from Jasmine to address the rest of the group—“Cate and I have listed the personnel who will be involved—and you all have a key role to play during the attack. That is, except Commander Furey. Cate will commence training drills from tomorrow morning.” Cheng Li now locked eyes with Lorcan’s baby blues. “Our preferred hour of attack is 0600 hours, Commander Furey. What do you think?”
Lorcan nodded. “Yes, at that point the Vampirates’ recovery time will be at its slowest. They will return to full strength, but this will give you your best chance to infiltrate the lower decks with minimal casualties to the Alliance.”
“Provided nothing goes wrong!” Jasmine said.
Lorcan nodded once more. “Yes, provided nothing goes wrong, Deputy Peacock. But I have some suggestions of what to look out for. Stealth is going to be of the utmost importance.”
As the others started to leave, Cheng Li rose from the table and approached her desk. There was plenty of work waiting for her there and no time like the present to get stuck in.
Bo Yin strode over to her. “Thank you for including me in the meeting tonight, Captain Li.”
“You’re very welcome, Bo,” Cheng Li said, shuffling through her papers. “You should know that you have fast become an invaluable member of this team.”
“Thank you,” Bo said, swelling with pride. “Can I do anything further for you? Perhaps you’d like a fresh pot of tea?”
“No,” Cheng Li said, “no, you go and get some rest. You’ve done more than your share today.”
Bo Yin turned and followed her comrades out into the corridor. Moonshine Wrathe still lingered in the captain’s cabin and Bo left the doors slightly ajar for him.
“I’ll be going then,” Moonshine said.
“Oh, yes.” Cheng Li glanced up, removing her glasses. “How silly of me. For a moment there, I forgot you weren’t one of my crew!”
Moonshine smiled. “That’s good, I think.”
Cheng Li shrugged.
“I’d like to work closely with you,” Moonshine said. “And I thought perhaps we could find a way to share Cate—assuming she was interested.”
Cheng Li folded her glasses contemplatively. “Cate is perfectly capable of making her own decisions about her future.”
“But you’re her captain,” Moonshine said. “And I know that she has this vital role in military strategy. But if we put our heads together, I’m sure we could find a creative solution to this.”
Cheng Li smiled. “Don’t push your luck, Captain Wrathe. I think you got what you came for today. Let’s leave it there for now. When you have a ship under your command, we can address the issue of who’s going to be your deputy.”
“Fair enough,” Moonshine said. Then, grinning playfully, he added, “If Cate proves unwilling, perhaps your feisty little Bo Yin could take up the post?”
Cheng Li unfolded her spectacles, slipping them back over her nose, and bowed her head to resume her business. “Good night, Captain Wrathe,” she said, her tone leaving him in no doubt whatsoever that he had been dismissed.
Later that same night, a lone figure stepped ashore at the Blood Tavern. He entered the vestibule and approached Lilith’s dome.
“Back again?” Lilith said, looking at the young man curiously. “You’re a thirsty lad… third night on the trot, isn’t it?”
The young customer wasn’t keen to be engaged in conversation. “I’d like a pint, please,” he said, pushing his money across the counter.
Lilith’s hand clamped down on the notes. “I’ve been trying to place your face these past few nights. Didn’t you first come in here months back with a friend of yours?”
Connor shook his head
. “You must be thinking of some other guy,” he said.
“Wait a mo! You wanted blood for him back then, not yourself. Said you were a pirate. Your name was… oh, it’s on the tip of my tongue… Connor! That’s it—Connor…”
“Smith!” Connor said. “Connor Smith is my name.”
“Really?” Lilith arched an eyebrow.
“Which room?” Connor interrupted, anxious to bring this conversation to a close as the shame crept up on him again.
“Room Seven,” Lilith said.
“Thanks.” Connor immediately made for the velvet-covered doorway. He had no desire to linger here, where he might be spotted or, worse, run into someone he knew. He slipped through the doorway, making his way toward Room Seven. He knocked, then took a deep breath and stepped inside.
10
MIND GAMES
It was late in the afternoon when, having performed two other healings and managed to grab the briefest of catnaps, Grace returned to the ward to check up on the patient. She coughed discreetly to make her presence known, her hand resting on the muslin curtain that surrounded the patient’s bed.
“Come inside my cocoon,” called a voice she instantly recognized, though it was hoarse from all he had lately endured.
Grace slipped around the curtain and found Olivier sitting up in bed. His face looked markedly different now to when he had been brought in. The deep fissures that had opened up the path to oblivion were now merely wounds. His flesh had patched itself together, and he looked, more or less, as she had remembered him from their former encounters. It was a truly remarkable transition. Grace knew that in large part this metamorphosis was due to her expert healing. But the healing process was a joint journey undertaken by patient and healer, and Olivier had played his part in this impressive recovery. There was a long road ahead, but now at least he was strong enough to answer some of the questions that had been bugging her.
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