“Look, there is simply no reason to behave like this,” Finn said, backing off a step, then backing off again. “I'm sure you were—distraught; simply out of sorts back there. I'm certain you meant no harm to the lad. If you'd just apologize now, I'm sure we can—Pickles and Pots, man, don't do that!”
The short silver blade flicked out of the man's long sleeves, sang a nasty song as it whipped in a swift and killing arc, clipping a brass button from Finn's favorite shirt and sending it rattling 'cross the deck.
Finn sucked in a breath. Before he could get his wits together, the fellow was at him again, leaping, slashing, cutting wicked circles in the air.
There was nothing to do but back up, feint to the right, shift to the left. Back off, do it all again.
And how long could that go on? One man with a weapon, frothing at the mouth, another man without.
“This is a stupid pastime,” he shouted, shuffling to the right as the madman sliced to the left. “This is simply ridiculous, totally inane. This is—Huuuuk!”
Finn's heart nearly stopped as the weapon took another button off his shirt. He backed up, nearly to the bowsprit that arched out over the sea. Once more, the Madeline Rose plunged into the foam, nearly drowning Finn, then rose up swiftly again. Clearly Finn's assailant didn't care for water. He growled in anger, tried to slap the stuff away.
Finn took a moment to catch his breath.
Maybe this lout will break for lunch, he muttered to himself, and while he's filling his belly, I'll run down and get my blade, see how the bugger likes that …
“Rawwwk!” the bully yelled, or words to that effect.
Spilling pools of water, water splashing out his boots, out his pockets, out his nose, he sprang at Finn, forcing him back against the rail. Finn tried to leap aside, but the man was quick for his size. Twice, the blade slashed across his chest, venting his shirt and nearly kissing his skin.
Finn stepped away, hard against the rail with nowhere to go except the churning sea below. He felt the rough touch of the tangled lines at his back. His foe slashed out again. Finn sucked in his belly, grabbed the rail with both hands, and kicked the brute soundly in the head.
The man howled and staggered back. Finn grabbed a line and pulled himself up into the shrouds. Red Hair was on him in a second, climbing up behind, the knife clutched in his teeth.
“Come on, you overgrown lout,” Finn shouted, “get at it or take a nap!”
Bushes and Trees, he said to himself, now why did I have to say that?
He risked a look down, and almost lost his hold. The deck already seemed a mile or so below. The ship yawed to port, jerked him backwards, then shoved him to starboard again, the bully still right on his heels.
Worse yet, the crewmen were all around him now, yowling and howling, hissing and leaping about, sometimes swinging so close he could smell their vile and fishy breath.
“No more of this nonsense,” Finn said aloud, “I'm damned if I haven't had enough!”
He didn't take time to weigh his odds. He jumped, caught a line and pulled himself aft, hand over hand, to the thick mainmast. There, several lines ran straight down to the deck. The big man cursed him, but he didn't look back. He closed his eyes until his boots touched wood again. The trip nearly burned his hand raw, but he was down, and—
—so was the double-ugly lout. Finn could scarcely believe his eyes. The monster had taken the longer way down, climbing back the way he'd come. Still, he hit the deck running and raced after Finn.
“Tomatoes and Toads,” Finn groaned. He took one look at the fellow, then turned and sprinted aft. Almost at once, a figure blurred to his right, a figure with a great plumed hat atop his head.
Finn stopped and turned back. His foe was sinking to his knees. His mouth dropped open and his hands hung loose along his sides. Captain Magreet, in glorious regalia, stood over the man with a wooden belaying pin gripped in his hand.
“A nasty customer,” Magreet said, looking up at Finn. “I hate like the devil to sap a payin' passenger, but this isn't the first time, I'll tell you that.”
Finn kept a cautious distance from the fellow on the deck. He was still on his knees, eyes rolled back in his head.
“I'd say he's lost his senses. Either that, or someone's got him in a spell.”
“No magic to it,” Magreet said, leaning over to spit into the sea. “This fellow's plain mean. He's one of the Nucci clan, they're all a nasty lot. You hurt, are you, lad? If you are, why, I've got a potion below that'll fix you up fine.” He cast a wink at Finn. “Take the pain away, clean out your liver and everything besides.”
“Thank you, Captain, I'm fine.” He'd never heard of the Nuccis and didn't care to ask. “That boy, now, he could use some help.”
“Ah, now I expect he'll be fine.” He glanced at the boy who still sat cringing by the mast. “Those Newlie folk are tougher than you think. I guess that's likely enough, seeing what they were before …”
The captain paused and grinned at Finn. “Now why am I telling you for, sir? You'd know better than me, seeing as you got one yourself.”
Finn was seething inside, but he'd learned to keep his feelings off his face.
“If you'd seen what happened, sir, you wouldn't dismiss it so lightly. This—this lunatic here committed wanton assault on the lad. Tried to kill him, quite frankly.”
Magreet frowned. “Now that's strong talk you're layin' on me, Master Finn.”
“I was here, Captain. He damn near killed me.” Finn took a breath. “Look at him, sir. Tell me he's fine.”
Magreet cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose not entirely fine. Slightly beaten, possibly bruised you might say.”
Finn ignored him, walking quickly to the lad.
“Can you stand up, boy? Do you feel as if a limb is broken, or some other vital part?”
All the boy could do was whimper. He shrank from Finn's touch, moaning, and his slight form trembled from head to foot.
“I'll do what I can,” Finn said, “and that's not a great deal. There is surely someone aboard acquainted with the physical arts …”
“You needn't bother,” said a voice behind Finn. “We'll take care of its damage now.”
It?
Finn stood. In all the trouble and strife, he'd completely forgotten the black-clad lawyer and his wife. Clearly, they had managed to vanish when the mayhem and bother began.
“If I may, I'd suggest you get some medical help for the lad. I'm sure there's some kind physician aboard. Just ask the captain to—”
“Gyrd, get up,” the man shouted, “Get up or by damn you'll regret it!”
The man kicked out viciously at the boy, aiming at his head.
“Here, now.” Finn stopped him with an open palm to the chest. The man staggered back, nearly going to the deck.
“You interfere with my goods, and I'll have the captain put you in irons!”
“He will, too,” his wife put in.
“I shall interfere if it's the proper thing to do,” Finn said, “and if I catch you abusing this lad again …”
“Gyrd is not a lad,” the man said, glaring at Finn, pulling himself to his feet. “An IT is what it is, and nothing more than that. Now step aside, Master whoever you are, and I'll take my property below.”
“Call him what you like. Just don't hurt him again. He has the same rights as you.”
The counselor rolled his eyes at that. Still, he clearly saw something in Finn he didn't like. Turning away, he nodded at his wife, then walked off with his head in the air as if he'd just astonished the judge, the jury and everyone in court.
His wife squatted down and lifted the Newlie to his feet. The boy gasped, swayed and nearly fell, but the woman had a firm, bony grip on the boy's slender arm.
“You'll think twice afore you spill your Master's precious tray again,” the woman said, in a voice like iron striking tin.
Dragging the whimpering lad away, she turned and stomped after her husband. First though, she stoppe
d, drew a small blood-red stone from under her robes, kissed it twice, held it beneath her left eye, then pointed it at Finn.
At once, Finn felt a sharp prickling chill, as if the woman's amulet had burrowed its way into his heart.
It was not a big spell, but it hurt all the same. Finn took a breath to shake it off. Almost at once, the pain disappeared. As had the black-clad woman and her miserable charge, gone back below.
He felt a great sorrow for the boy. He wanted desperately to chuck the skinny bastard and his wife into the deep, but that wouldn't help, really wouldn't do at all.
“Master Finn …”
Finn turned to face Magreet. The burly oaf at the captain's feet was off his knees now. He leaned against the mainmast, rubbing the back of his head. He was still the same enormous lout who'd tried to make sausage out of Finn. Yet, Finn thought, something was not the same. He was still large and ugly, his hair was still red. Now, however, whatever demon drove him seemed to be at rest.
“I must officially warn you,” the captain said, “that I will brook no more of this violence and poor attitude aboard my vessel. If you have any further quarrel with one another, you will cease hostile action until you get ashore.”
Finn stared. “Does he know that? By damn, sir, it was he who tried to stick a blade in me, not the other way around.”
“I have informed Mr. Nucci as well.”
Nucci frowned at Finn. “I need to know your name, and your family history as well, sir—if indeed you did not spring from common folk. Honor demands that I meet you again and battle until one of us is dead.”
Finn had to laugh. “Do I get a blade this time, or just you?”
“Whatever you wish.” The bully waved him off. “I assure you, though, a weapon will do you little good against me.”
“You think not?”
“Oh, I am certain of it, sir.”
The man's ugly face split into a joyous grin. “I hope you will join me for supper tonight. I do not wish you to think ill of Sabatino Nucci, in spite of our little quarrel.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” Finn said. “But I don't believe I will.”
Sabatino shrugged. “As you wish, then. Captain, if you ever strike me again, I shall consider it extremely annoying. Good day to you both.”
Sabatino Nucci strolled away. Finn watched him until he was well out of sight.
“Feathers and Birds, what in bloody hell is the matter with him? Why, he would've fair skinned that lad if I hadn't come along. And he nearly skinned me.”
“I told you,” Magreet said. “He is a Nucci. The Nuccis are vicious, every one.”
“But not all the time.”
“No, not all the time. And the trouble with a Nucci, Master Finn, is he will never tell you when …”
“HE NEVER EVEN ASKED ABOUT THE LAD. WAS HE hurt? Was he maimed? Was the poor boy alive or was he dead? I tell you, Letitia, I am not even certain this Sabatino fellow remembered what he'd done.”
“Why, how could he not?” Letitia pressed a delicate finger to her chin, a gesture Finn always found enchanting. “Of course he did. The boy was a Newlie, so the man didn't care.”
“Maybe,” Finn said, pacing the small cabin from one end to the next. “I'm not too sure of that. When it was over, he was rude, pompous, nasty, terribly overbearing, but quite a different fellow from the frothing lunatic he'd been….”
“Lunatic or not, he's a human person, and that's the way they think.” Letitia wrinkled her nose and smiled. “Not you, of course, dear Finn. Sometimes I think you're simply too nice to be a person at all.”
“I appreciate the thought.”
“Well, it's true, my dear.”
“Nicely put,” said Julia Jessica Slagg. “You'll never get a finer compliment than that. Or likely deserve it, I fear.”
“Be quiet,” Finn said, “nobody asked.”
Julia gave a rusty cackle and clawed up the bed to Letitia's lap. “If this poor lizard had to wait for someone to ask, she would never get to speak at all.”
“I'm grateful you reminded me of that,” Finn said. “That switch is not working as it should. If the ship would hold still for a moment, I could remedy that at once. Of course, with all this rolling and such, vital cogs and gears could spill out and roll about …”
“Stop it, both of you,” Letitia said. “I have to spend our vacation in this—tiny, stuffy room, but I do not have to listen to you two bicker all the time.”
She sighed then, and reached out to touch Finn's hand, as she nearly always did when a single cross word had passed between the two. And when Finn looked into those enormous, glossy black eyes that swirled with iridescent color like opals drowned in warm and fragrant oil, his heart near swelled with joy.
Granted, her ears were perhaps a bit long, but they came to a soft and lovely curve, peeking like furry pink secrets through her long ashen hair. Her lips were small and shapely, and, while her nose was somewhat pointy, Finn found it to be a very nice nose indeed. Her form was quite slender in all the proper places, and not too slender where slender wouldn't do at all.
How, he wondered, could he not love Letitia Louise? What she had been was not what she was now. An animal was one thing, a Newlie something else again. Many, of course, couldn't see the truth of that. Many, he knew, likely never would.
And who, in the end, was blessed with more kindness and love? Fair Letitia, or Sabatino Nucci and that vile and scrawny pair with little but stone in their hearts? All three were human through and through, and what did that gain them but cold and empty lives?
The world was full of questions, and Finn, Master Lizard-Maker, knew the answers to very few at all …
He brought their supper from the galley, a meal Letitia hardly touched—watery oyster soup, oat-bread and fish. Letitia nibbled on the bread, but, as ever, wouldn't touch the soup or fish. Meat was meat, whether it came from land or sea. Her kind had never been predators, they'd always been the prey.
“Did you see anyone?” she asked, her precious pink tongue finding crumbs at the corners of her lips. “Does everyone go and eat there? I mean, it must be interesting, meeting new people at sea …”
“Not especially,” Finn told her. “There were quite a few diners, but no one of note, as I recall.”
“Passengers, you mean. But not the crew.”
“Oh, no, not the crew. They have their own quarters forward, quite a distance from here.”
He couldn't miss the little shudder at the mention of the Yowlies. That encounter had shaken her to the core.
“And the man who attacked you wasn't there? Truly, Finn?”
“Truly, Letitia. I didn't see the man.”
“You could have been killed. A man like that has no love for humans, either. He only cares for himself.”
“I should say that's true. But you needn't worry. He'll not bother me again.”
Finn was glad he'd slightly edited his adventure with Sabatino Nucci. He hadn't mentioned that the loony had challenged him to a duel, and asked him to supper as well. He could scarcely fathom the man's bizarre behavior, and saw no reason to share it with Letitia Louise.
“I think,” Julia put in, scratching herself with sharp iron claws, though, as Finn knew, there was no way she could possibly itch, “as the captain suggested, I could use some lubrication. This salty air is not beneficial to creatures of the metal persuasion. You might, while you're at it, oil that sword in your pack, Master Finn. I expect it's been affected too.”
“Thank you for the advice,” Finn said, tossing the lizard a frosty look that Letitia couldn't see. She flicked her brass tongue and pretended she'd dropped off to sleep—which, like itching, was a talent reserved for creatures of skin and bone, not those of copper, iron and scraps of tin.
“I almost wish we hadn't come,” Letitia said, taking up her thoughts again. “I miss our house and my kitchen. I even miss the smells of Garpenny Street. They are odors less than sweet, to be sure, but they are our odors, Finn.”
> “Yes, well, you'll like Antoline Island when we get there,” Finn assured her quickly. “I understand the hotel is practically new, and the beach is quite grand …”
“That boy,” she said, as if he hadn't spoken at all, “he was injured, you said. And no one, certainly not his—his masters, or the captain of this horrible vessel, seem to care. I feel so sorry for the lad. The Foxers are very nice folk. Several of them clerked at Counters Hall, you'll recall. I'm sure you've seen them there.”
“I have indeed,” Finn said.
“Before the Change, they were as hungry for my kind as the Yowlies were, Finn. But that's not their way now. They're different, but the Yowlies are the same …”
She paused, and held him with her magnificent dark eyes.
“We remember sometimes, all the Newlies do. It's there in our heads from those who came before. Sometimes I'm running through a burrow, squeezing through a musty hole running for my life. It isn't me, Finn, but it is. It's there, and it doesn't go away just because you want it to.”
“I'm sorry,” she said, shaking her fears away once more. “I can't help being what I am.”
“There is nothing else I want you to be,” he told her. “Nothing but what you are.”
“Yes, I know. And I thank you, Finn.”
He wanted desperately to take her in his arms, hold her, and assure her the world would surely change, that all that was wrong would then be set aright. He knew, though, that this wasn't so, that Letitia knew it as well as he.
Newlies had the same rights as humans, but laws are only as good as people want them to be. The Foxer boy was a servant in name, but in truth, little more than a slave. The counselor couple had “hired” him from someone who dealt in such things, and the boy could never get away.
Things should change, and they would, Finn knew, but not today or tomorrow, not when Letitia wanted them to …
“I should have stayed to help,” Julia said, when Letitia had dropped off to sleep, and a candle made shadows on the walls. “I could have bitten that lout's hand off and saved you a little time.”
The Prophecy Machine (Investments) Page 2