The downstairs bar was even more crowded than it had seemed from above. Up ahead, Grace could see the bar itself—a vast circular structure that seemed to be on two or three different levels. Clustered around the bar on every level were rows of pirates, lining up to refresh their tankards and those of their mates. She needed to find a way to get everyone’s attention but, glancing around, realized just how difficult this might prove. They were all so engrossed in their conversations, games, and singsongs. She couldn’t blame them. They had earned their leisure. She had wondered, before entering the cavern, if the dead pirates’ wounds would be visible, but mercifully this appeared not to be the case.
“Haven’t seen you here before,” said a gap-toothed pirate at her side. “Are you a new arrival?”
“Just visiting,” Grace said.
The pirate laughed at that. “Just visiting, eh? I’ve heard that one before! Look around, missy—everyone is just visiting!” He headed off to join the clamor for the bar, laughing as if at some private joke.
Grace stood her ground, wondering again just how she was going to attract the attention of all the thirsty and gregarious denizens of this cavern.
“Grace? Is that you?” She heard a familiar voice coming closer. Turning, she found Bart Pearce at her side.
“Bart!” He looked just as she remembered him in life. As tall and strong and handsome as ever.
Bart smiled at her. “I thought I heard your voice, but I didn’t like to think it could be you.” His eyes flashed with sadness.
“It’s okay,” she said, realizing his mistake. “I’m not dead.”
Bart’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure, Grace?” he said. “They say only the dead can enter Jack Tar’s.”
“Truly,” she said. “I’m here on an astral visit.”
“Okay…” he said, not totally understanding, but taking Grace’s word for it.
Now Grace became aware of other eyes turning curiously toward her. “You look well, Bart,” she said. “You look like you’re at peace here.”
He grinned and shrugged. “You know me, Grace. Happy-go-lucky. I always reckoned on a short life but a merry one. And this place, these crazy folks, well, it’s all quite an unexpected bonus!” He turned momentarily as another pirate squeezed him on the shoulder and offered to buy him a drink. Grace smiled to herself. It was clear that Bart Pearce was every bit as popular in Jack Tar’s Cavern as he had been at Ma’s.
“Now, look,” Bart said, turning back to her. “If you’re not dead, what on oceans are you doing down here?”
“I need your help,” Grace said. “Not just you, but all the pirates down here—or as many of them as are willing to bear arms again.”
Bart’s face showed concern. “Have things got that bad up above?” he asked. “I mean, we hear reports from all the newcomers, and, lately, there have been a lot of newcomers.”
Grace nodded. “It’s bad,” she said. “Sidorio’s armada outstrips the Alliance’s now. His troops outnumber ours. He’s just suffered what should have been a decisive defeat, but he’s intent on one more push. We can’t let him win. There’s too much at stake.”
Bart nodded. He looked reflective for a moment. “You know, Grace, we depend on new arrivals to bring us the news from above, but, I swear, the ocean itself has begun to weep for this war.” His expression grew more determined. “What can we do?”
“I need you all to come back, one last time. I know you’re at peace here and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Will you come and join the fight?”
Bart didn’t flinch. “Of course!” he said, then looked down woefully at his side. “Only I don’t have my sword anymore, Grace. Those sentimental buggers up there strung it up in a case at Pirate Academy, so I hear.”
“Yes,” Grace said, smiling reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Bart. Your sword will be waiting for you. The same goes for Molucco and any of the others who are missing theirs, too.”
“You want Molucco, too, eh?” Bart grinned, remembering perhaps Grace’s former animosity toward Molucco Wrathe.
Grace nodded purposefully. “I want Molucco and Porfirio Wrathe.” Her eyes ranged about the vast cavern. “I want every last pirate here to come back up tonight.”
Bart nodded in understanding. “Out of my way, lads!” he bellowed, pushing his way toward the old ship’s bell that hung over the bar. He grabbed the chain and rang the bell loudly.
The chimes echoed up and down the huge cavern. Hearing it, the pirates ceased their chatter and turned, expectantly, toward the bar. Bart leaped up nimbly onto the counter.
“Sorry to interrupt your revels,” he said, “but our help is sought in the war raging up above.” His words seized everyone’s attention. Grace glanced up to see attentive pirates leaning across the stairway and craning their necks from the most distant corners to see and hear better as Bart continued.
“We all know from the reports coming in nightly that the situation has been bad for a while. Things have come to a head tonight, it seems, and the Alliance needs us to go back to join them in one last battle. The future of piracy—the future of our oceans—depends on its outcome.” Bart exchanged a glance with Grace, his eyes bright with purpose. He lifted his head up proud and strong and raised his hand high in the air. “All those who are ready to join me, cry ‘aye’.”
Nothing could have prepared Grace for the deafening cry. It echoed through the cathedral-like cavern and lingered for what seemed like minutes. The show of support and solidarity drew tears from Grace’s emerald eyes.
Bart glanced down from the bar counter. “Reckon you have your answer, Grace. Now, jump up here beside me and tell us all what happens next.”
42
WOUNDS
It happened simultaneously. The four vanguard Vampirate ships—The Blood Captain, The Redeemer, The Calabria, and The Vagabond—smashed into the three lead Alliance vessels—The Diablo, The Tiger, and The Typhon. Wood splintered as the ships crashed into one another. As the members of each crew experienced the shock waves, Sidorio let out a roar. “Now!”
The captains of each Vampirate ship flew up into the air, followed in their wake by their troops.
Sidorio and his crew thudded down onto the deck of The Tiger, where Cheng Li and her team were ready to do battle.
“Remember!” cried Sidorio, making his first swift kill. “This is the ship of Vampirate assassins. Take them down!”
“Eyes on the prize!” commanded Cheng Li, spearing an unsuspecting Vampirate. Moving on, she called out to her comrades, “Destroy Sidorio and the whole Vampirate house of cards collapses.”
Now the two crews interlaced as surely and brutally as the prows of their ships.
Lorcan saw Sidorio fly through the air and land on The Tiger. The lead pirate vessel was now wedged between The Blood Captain at the fore and The Nocturne at the aft. The Vampirate armada had begun circling the Alliance fleet. If Sidorio took The Tiger, The Nocturne would be the next ship in his sights. But it wouldn’t—it couldn’t—come to that. No crew was better prepared to see off Sidorio than that of The Tiger.
As Lorcan watched Stukeley, Mimma, and their teams spill onto The Diablo, he felt Obsidian Darke’s hot breath at his side. “I’m going after Sidorio,” Darke said. “You’re in command of The Nocturne. Do whatever is necessary.”
With that, Darke sprinted to the prow of the ship and vaulted onto the stern of The Tiger. Lorcan shuddered as he glimpsed Sidorio far in the distance. He wondered how long it would take before the two old foes squared up to each other one last time.
Lola and her crew had landed on The Typhon. “Good to be back, eh?” She grinned at Marianne and Angelika, at her side.
“Aye, Captain!” chorused the two Vampirates as they sprang into action, swords aloft.
“It’s great to be out of the nursery and in the heart of the battle,” Lola cried to Nathalie as she used her lethal crossbow to slay her first victim. Nathalie kicked away the fast-desiccating Nocturnal, enabling Lola
’s gloved hand to swiftly retrieve her precious silver arrow.
“Nice one, Captain!” declared Nathalie. “At this rate, we’ll have the cellars restocked in no time!”
The vast deck of The Typhon was alive with action as Lola’s crew penetrated deep into the pirate ranks. But they had met their equal in Barbarro and Trofie’s expertly trained pirates. It was going to be a close-won battle.
As she made a fifth kill, Lola glanced up and caught Trofie staring at her from the other end of the deck. There was pure visceral hatred in Trofie’s eyes.
“Don’t worry, Goldfingers!” Lola called. “I’m working my way back to you.”
Trofie Wrathe raised her aconite-dipped silver sword. “Bring it on, Banshee!” she yelled as she pushed through the melee to tackle her black-hearted nemesis.
From on board The Diablo, Cate saw loathsome Lola. She dearly wished she was on The Typhon now so she could plunge a silver sword straight through the vixen’s cold, dark heart. Payback for Lola’s felling of Bart. Hopefully, Cate would have this satisfaction before the battle was through, but, for now, she had business to attend to defending The Diablo.
Mimma and Stukeley and their teams were each enjoying an early run of success on opposite sides of the ship. The deck boards were littered with their victims and drenched in warm pools of blood. Gazing at the sea of red, Stukeley was sorely tempted to lap it up. Maybe later—as a pick-me-up.
“Nice swordplay,” said a familiar voice behind him. “But then you always were one of the best, Jez.”
Stukeley spun around hastily to find Cate braced for attack.
He smiled at his worthy opponent. “That’s not my name anymore,” he said. “Don’t play head games with me, pirate. They won’t work.”
Cate gritted her teeth. “The only head game I have in mind for you is decapitation.”
“Touché!” Stukeley cried as their swords clashed. “We used to be pals! What changed, I wonder?”
Cate launched herself in the air, executing a move Lorcan had assiduously coached her in. She landed in front of Stukeley, her sword jabbing his chin. “You became a megalomaniac bloodsucking demon,” she said.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” Stukeley exclaimed.
Shrugging, Cate lifted her foot and booted him several meters across the deck. That felt good!
On the other side of the ship, Mimma had found her way onto the rigging and was hovering there, poised to jump down onto her next victim, Moonshine Wrathe.
“Oh, surely you can do better than that!” he said in bored tones. Without turning, he employed his sword to slice through the rigging and brought her tumbling to the deck in front of him.
As Mimma scrabbled back to her feet, Moonshine shook his head. “Well, you’re certainly pretty, for a demon. But I’m a captain now. Don’t I merit one of the big fangs rather than the backup squad?”
Mimma was angry now, her pride hurt. She hissed at him, her mouth already stained with the blood of his erstwhile crewmates. She spun her sword ominously toward Moonshine. “How’s about I turn you into a pirate kebab,” she said, “and then feast on your blood?”
“A charming proposition!” Moonshine declared, preparing to defend himself. “But no more kebabs for you today, methinks. Terrible for the cholesterol, you know!”
Seconds later, their swords were engaged and the backchat ceased as they let their weapons do the talking.
On board The Tiger, Connor was notching up one victory after another. He had never felt more completely in the combat zone. As his latest victim fell before him, the deck suddenly opened up and he could see Jasmine, Jacoby, and Bo Yin all holding their own against Sidorio’s crew. Connor swelled with pride. If there was any ship and any crew that was going to turn the tide tonight, it was this one. He could see Cheng Li up at the stern, fighting in her usual exemplary fashion. And now she was joined by Obsidian Darke. The leader of the Nocturnals had barely set foot on deck when he started cutting a swath through Sidorio’s troops. Darke had never seemed so pumped up and ready for the fight.
In the center of the deck, Connor identified the target they all wanted—Sidorio. The Vampirate leader was being given a good fight by Nada, one of The Tiger’s most able pirates. That’s it, Connor thought. Just keep him in play. Just keep him there until I make my way through this next rank of Vampirates. Then he’ll have the fight he really wants. He just hoped neither Cheng Li nor Obsidian beat him to it.
Lola and Trofie’s swords clanged together once more, the blades reflecting the enmity in each woman’s eyes.
“Nice try!” Lola said dismissively. “But I’ve come back for your hand tonight and I don’t intend to leave without it.”
“Maybe it’s your turn to leave here limbless,” Trofie said as her sword whipped through the air toward Lola’s shoulder. Lola moved aside, just in time, but Trofie’s sword nicked Jacqueline, who was fighting beside her.
Jacqueline’s wound swiftly sealed but her ire had been stoked and now she, too, turned her attention to Trofie as Nathalie took her place. Lola and Jacqueline were both stalking her with malicious intent.
“Seems like I’ll be getting my wedding bouquet back after all,” Lola sneered.
“Think again!” cried Barbarro, descending from the crow’s nest and landing between the combatants. He took advantage of his surprise arrival to skewer Jacqueline, who fell to the deck boards, her body buckling in response to the poison on his sword.
Though shocked to have lost such a close ally, Lola kept her focus—still stalking Trofie. Now it was Lola Lockwood-Sidorio who faced two adversaries as the captain and deputy captain of the ship looked for an opening to effect their long-harbored desire for revenge.
Johnny tentatively pushed open the door to the nursery and stepped inside. This was going to be easier than he’d thought. Up ahead were the two bassinets, with nothing and no one standing in his way. But, as he strode up to them, he found they were both empty. His first thought was that someone had beaten him to it. Relief flooded through his bones.
“Johnny?”
He turned slowly, to see Holly walking into the nursery. She had one of the babies in her arms. Where was the other one?
“What are you doing here?” she asked, already suspicious.
“I’ve come for the babies,” Johnny said. So far, so truthful.
“Why?” Holly asked, drawing the infant in its swaddling clothes more closely toward her.
“Captain’s orders,” he said.
Holly’s eyes narrowed. “Which captain?”
Johnny ignored the question. “Which little fellow is that, anyhow?” he asked, stepping closer. “Hunter or Evil?”
“It’s Evil,” Holly said, as Johnny’s hands reached out for the child. “Hunter’s not here.”
“Where is he, sugar? I need them both.”
“Why?” Holly asked again, steadfastly refusing to let go of Evil.
“I told you before.” Johnny smiled sweetly. “Captain’s orders. I’m taking them both to safety.” Both Vampirates clutched at baby Evil now. The infant, not surprisingly, began to wail.
“Give him to me, Holly.”
There were tears in her eyes, too. “I can’t, Johnny. You have to go.”
“Please don’t make me do something I might regret.”
“I’d give my life for these babies,” Holly said through her tears.
She just got out the words before Johnny’s silver dagger pierced her clean through the heart. As she slumped to the floor, Johnny retrieved baby Evil from her arms. “I’m sorry, sugar,” he said as Holly’s body writhed in rapid response to the toxic silver blade. “But you left me no choice. Now tell me where baby Hunter is.”
She shook her head, clearly in pain. “Never. I won’t…” Her head turned to one side and a glazed look came over her eyes. Then the silver began to work its way deeper into her system and her flesh began to burn.
“Come on, little Evil,” Johnny said, clutching the crying babe to him.
“It’s okay, buddy. You’re coming with Uncle Johnny.” He shook his head. “If only you could talk, you could tell me where your brother is.”
“Are you looking for Hunter?”
Johnny hadn’t heard any footsteps, but now he found the threshold to the nursery was blocked by Olivier, who nonchalantly carried Lola and Sidorio’s other baby in his arms. Smiling at Johnny, Olivier glided into the room, carrying Hunter over toward the twin bassinets. Olivier was about to lower Hunter into his crib but seemed suddenly to think better of it.
Turning, Olivier wrinkled his nose. “I smell burning,” he said. Glancing down, he caught sight of Holly and shook his head at Johnny.
“Oh, dear, Cowboy. Was that really necessary? That bighearted girl was rather keen on you, you know.” He hugged Hunter more closely to him. “Now then, I think you had better tell me just exactly what’s going on.”
The Nocturne had been infiltrated on port and starboard by members of the rebel Vampirate crews coming over from the sterns of The Diablo and The Tiger. Lorcan and his squad raced into position to defend the ship. Lorcan worried about what this meant. Had Sidorio and his comrades won out? Were the other two ships now overtaken by the Vampirates? As he watched more of the rebel crews leaping across, his blood ran cold. Had the unthinkable finally happened?
Suddenly, Lorcan felt a hand on his shoulder. Reflexively, he turned and saw Mimma standing, grinning, in front of him. The hand remained on his shoulder, but as he moved, it slid down his front and fell to the deck in front of him.
Immortal War Page 32