The Blood Storm (Unwithering Realm Book 4)

by John C. Wright

  Now it was the same thing again. I was helpless to help the helpless girl.

  8. Off the Clock

  I wondered what I could say to snap her out of this lunatic idea of staying behind bars. There had to be a way.

  “Miss—”

  “Don’t call me Miss Dreadful. It sounds…”

  “Miss Prisoner!” I snapped. “Time is short. Some of my friends here might be able to …”

  “Ilya!” she snapped back, trying to draw herself up (which only arched her back more, and made her look more fragile and lovely) “I know who these people are and what they can do! I just told you, remember? Well, not him—why doesn’t he have a head? And why are you grinning?”

  “You called me by name. I didn’t think you knew it.”

  She looked flustered and dropped her eyes to stare at my sternum (which was eye-level for her) and tucked a clingy wet strand of her sopping hair behind her ear.

  “Never mind Knack,” I said. “He was built by Volkswagen, and they put the engine in the trunk. Speaking of engines, why are we not jogging at full speed away from this location, before more guards arrive?”

  “I told you!” she said angrily, rising her eyes again to mine. I am not sure I had ever seen her looking angrily at me before. Strangely enough, it made her seem fragile. The mocking smile made her seem like a person from another world, someone far beyond reach. But once she started raising her voice (and flashing her eyes and heaving her bosom, etc.) she was no different than arguing with my stubborn cousin Alyonushka. “And I have very little time to explain what needs to be done. So I am ordering you to—”

  “Whoa, whoa! Or should I say, since you’re a sailor girl instead of a cowgirl, belay that talk? Lady, I am not on the clock right now, and we are not in the Museum, and this is not you telling me to put a second coat of wax on the floor!”

  Her eyes narrowed and glittered. “Are you still grousing about that? It needed a second coat of wax.”

  “Sure, but not right before opening time, when visitors might slip and fall! That forty-weight shine takes an hour to dry. Do you think I don’t know how to do my j— ah, yes, ma’am! You are right about the wax! You have absolute authority to do what you like with the Museum, and I recommend setting even more deadly traps for unwary tourists when we get back — but first we've got to get back! Now, put on some clothes— if they gave you any clothes— and prepare to march out of this hellhole, or I swear by Saint Arthelais of Benevento, I will tuck you under my arm and haul you out of here kicking and screaming!”

  It must have made an impression on her. Penny raised her hand and tried to slap me, which I hoped was a good sign. I mean, a girl only does that if she likes you, right?

  I suppose I should have let the blow land, because you really are not supposed to shout at girls, but her hand was moving so slow, I figured she was telegraphing it on purpose, and wanted me to block it. I raised my right palm to pattycake the incoming rush of slender, soft fingers with painted nails, but somehow her wrist intercepted my palm, and my fingers closed, and I had her trapped. Her wrist was so small and delicate that it almost made me dizzy. It was like grabbing a flower stem. I was ashamed my hand was so big and rough and dark compared to her hand. And it was so warm.

  She made a noise of irritation in her nose, and yanked her hand out of my grip. Or tried to. All that happened was that it made her shrug her shoulders, which caused a jiggle to travel down the curves of her half-naked and all-wet body, and she made a little gasp that sounded unintentionally sensuous.

  When she yanked, it was like yanking against a stone statue, and this made her shoulders tilt one way and her hips tilt the other, displaying her figure to her best advantage. It was almost as if nature designed women to look good struggling in a man’s grasp.

  9. Slave-Collar

  At this point, when I thought that thought, somewhere in my brain, I came to the realization that boys my age should probably not be allowed anywhere near girls. Men should not be allowed to see women until we are old enough to be President. In the meantime, we should be kept in military bases or in the field, killing pirates and Communists, drug runners, pantomime clowns and other lowlife undesirables, so we can have a healthy outlet for all that built-up sexual energy and aggressiveness. That is what the Victorians did, and they conquered most of the surface area of the planet.

  Embarrassed, I let go of her wrist. “Sorry, Miss Dreadful.”

  She said with icy calm, “Do restrain your instinctive inclinations, Tarzan. You are not carrying me anywhere. Did you not understand what I said before? The collar has been told to constrict for each step I take, or am carried, beyond the deadline surrounding this place.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “The one-legged guards torment the harem by forcing us over the line and watching us choke and faint as we struggle to return to our confinement. The collar has also been told to pinch my head off, if by any means I depart to an even greater distance. That includes stepping through a Moebius gate.”

  I opened my mouth, she held up her hand. Her fingers were near my mouth, and for a moment, I thought she was going to touch my lips.

  “And do not suggest to have the foreverborn girl use her blade,” she said, “It would be like wrapping my neck in the coil of an electric stove.”

  “I have the right tools for the job,” I said. I put my hand into the secret pocket on my utility belt where the hacksaw was stowed, or where I thought it was stowed, and triumphantly pulled out the small ferro-cerium rod instead. I stared at it stupidly for a moment, and began rifling through my jacket pockets.

  Penny added, “Your diamond drills and blowtorches and other technomancy of your Earth are in vain against a metal that can grow red hot at will, or grow spikes inward, or repair cuts faster than any chisel can cleave. You assume the metal will stand still. This collar will punish me for any attempts to remove it.” She touched the hard dull surface unconsciously with fingers that suddenly seemed very slender, white, gentle, and precious. I wanted no harm to come to that soft hand.

  I was appalled for a speechless moment at the horror of it. It was like a terrorist chaining a dynamite vest around a girl’s neck, wired to blow. No wonder all the girls in the room were backed up against the far wall and quaking.

  I looked at the flock of cowering, half-clothed girls again. None of them would raise their eyes to meet mine. They were school-aged kids. They should have been worried about nothing worse than learning how to paint fingernails or keep an embarrassing diary. They should have been home with their folks, fretting over algebra homework. They should not have been chattel in a whorehouse or prisoners on death row.

  “So you see,” Penny began calmly, “If I cannot be saved from the danger you put me in, you must take it upon yourself to complete my mission. Listen carefully. The forces of the Dark Tower have many of the twilight gates from their world watched, but not all. At the mouth of the Great River, Euphrates, there is a pirate captain with an ironclad submarine, trustworthy, I hope … Are you listening to me?”

  I had not been listening, but staring at the floor. Now I looked up, grinning.

  “I can break you out of here,” I told her.

  10. Nice Plan

  Penny looked at me with surprise for a moment, and then a hopeful look appeared in her lovely green eyes, but then, very quickly, her face froze and she forced her expression back into a calmly dignified one.

  “Seriously. I think I might be able to get everyone out of here.”

  “I may be able to help,” she said. “My songs are strong! I have been trained for this work by the wise of Thalassa and of Amorreus and of Cush.”

  “Fine, but stop talking and listen to me for a second.”

  Foster broke in. His voice is so smooth and musical, it never sounds like he is interrupting when he is. “It means, genetically speaking, she kicks ass. Her father is a rocket scientist and her mother is a brain surgeon.”

  I was not sure if he were kidding or exaggerati
ng or what. “What does that have to do with what we are talking about? It is only a matter of time before someone notices the dead people and comes here, or the shift changes, or the local torture theater and go-go dancing club needs a new virgin, or something!”

  Penny said briskly, “Squire Falinn is not kidding you. I am the youngest of my order ever to have achieved the master rank in three disciplines as a siren, as a theriomancer, and as a strega. That is why my familiar can speak like a man and enter the mists of the dream realm, and why I was sent here. Of mermaids, only I can elude the stars. This is why you should heed my voice.”

  I had the sensation as if she were slipping higher and higher up an invisible ladder, farther out of my grasp. I had been intimidated by her being in the newspapers, or being the youngest girl ever to sail around the world. But now she was the youngest magical spy-girl ever to infiltrate the Dark Tower.

  No wonder she was confident. Or cracked.

  Foster said to her lightly, “Well, I have ranks in three of the occult crafts as well, I’ll remind you, missy! The Dark Elves taught me the secrets of mist, twilight, and of doppelganger. So, by that logic, you should listen to me, not me to you!”

  “Mine is a mermaid cap!” she said proudly. “Woven of the hidden songs of deepest sea!”

  “I have a tarn cap!” he said, more proudly. “Forged of hidden fires from deepest earth! With matching tarn cloak!”

  With her little fists clenched at her hips, Penny stamped her foot in anger, something I had never seen a modern woman do. Her bare foot made no noise on the marble, but her whole body bounced buxomly at the moment, and Foster was struck mute, staring in awe at her cleavage for an unboyscout-like half-second before jerking his eyes back up to hers. I selected the spot on his jaw where I would clout him.

  “Eflast! You will obey orders! You and Ossifrage will descend from the windows of the Tower to the Great River Euphrates, to the rendezvous spot! You must take this—” she glared at me with eyes like emerald lasers, so that I froze with my fist half-cocked “—this janitor with you! With him gone, I am safe! Too valuable to be slain!”

  He opened his mouth to give some smart-alecky answer, but now her eyes glittered like green fire, and her voice was like a silver dirk sliding softly up under the ribs, “Or would you have me tell the Dark Grandmaster of your Order that you are absent without leave, and have violated your fealty? Well…? I am not the one you should fear. What price do Dark Elves demand to teach their arts to mortal men? I recall the clever trick you used to escape paying it, gypsy boy.”

  Foster looked sheepish while looking cowed, and maybe there were a few more barnyard animals thrown in to his expression at the same time. I unclenched my fist, not wanting to jar that look off his face, since I was enjoying it.

  He turned and said something in Dutch to Ossifrage. The old man said something back in that language, wrinkled his face in a look of contempt, and spat on the ground.

  Foster raised his eyebrows and shrugged, answered briefly and turned back to Penny. “Master Ossifrage says he and She-Monkey flew to the Great River and to the Grove of Ningirsu earlier today. The grove was the rendezvous spot, correct?”

  Penny looked worried, and put her hand to her iron-circled throat. “Why? What has happened?”

  “Prince Dakkar was beset by the sea-monsters and sea-machines of the Magicians when he sent his side boat to shore. She-Monkey and Ossifrage were standing in the air, hidden in a cloud. At She-Monkey’s plea, Ossifrage made the flotilla of the Magicians too light to dive. Ossifrage parted the clouds, and Dakkar looked up with his spyglass and saw the two of them. Ossifrage gave the agreed upon signal, but Dakkar climbed through a hatch in the deck, turned his iron ship, and fled, seeking the twilight beneath the sea.”

  Penny looked lost, shocked, woebegone. “What does this mean?” she said in a small voice.

  (When she looked like that, I wanted to take her in my arms and comfort her, and kiss her trembling lip. Of course, I am a guy. Guy-chemicals in the glands influence my thinking.)

  “It means,” said Foster with a sigh, “That he’s abandoned us. Ossifrage calls him a craven. Ossifrage says he and She-Monkey went to the Nine-Star-Aligned Chamber to check the horoscopes for another way out.”

  Penny whispered, “It cannot be true!”

  Foster said, “I can vouch for what he says. I was there, in the side boat before a plesiosaur in barding capsized the side boat and one by one swallowed the sailors as they floundered in the river-water. I did not see Ossifrage or She-Monkey, and I know no one saw me, which was good.

  “It was good: because the dinosaurs, coracles, squids and struthopodes were in the water; beneath the water were unseen ashrays and bunyips with steel-capped tusks uglier than bull walruses and more huge; in the air were the creepy little pig-face men with flying ears; and on the shore were the wise-eyed mastodons wielding pikes in their trunks and carrying iron castles filled with Pygmaioi archers on their hairy backs. All were looking for survivors from the capsized boat.

  “But someone must have seen me, because when I entered the Grove of Ningirsu, instead of you waiting, there was a Macrocephali with a head larger than a pumpkin and a body smaller than a starved monkey sitting in a sedan-chair carried by slaves. He must have figured out where I was, because next I knew, Calingi with flame-wands were burning the grass and topiary bushes all around and under me, and they lit the whole sacred acre on fire. A squad of Soracte fire-walkers came dancing over the tiptops of the flames toward the sound of my screaming ouch, ouch, ouch. Then when I tried to climb a tree to get above the fire, a trio of Oeonae hidden in the branches snared me with lassoes woven with spells and starlight and the darkness of dusk drawn from the star of Hesperides. Their spell drove the moonlight in my tarn cloak away, and so I was caught. I made my face like theirs, which fooled them for a moment, because they are stupid, but then they passed around one of those accursed eggs they eat, and when I could not take a bite, they knew I was human.”

  He was silent a moment, frowning, and said reluctantly, “I am afraid … very afraid … This means that the Dark Tower has been anticipating all the raids and sinkings of Prince Dakkar all this time, all along, but just letting him think he was foreverborn.”

  A grim silence hung in the air for a moment between Penny and Foster.

  I said, “Abby tells me if you commit sins, it breaks the — uh, it weakens the effect.” I had been about to say breaks the spell, but I thought weakens the effect sounded more scientific. “So piracy should have been right out. How many forever people are there? You said there was only one.” This last was directed at Penny. “Where do they come from?”

  Penny said, “Only one who is loyal to the Wisecraft. They come from the world called Tharsis, which has been invaded years ago, but is not yet fully conquered. I don’t recall what the deviation event was for that branch.”

  Foster said, “I know. In their history, John the Baptist appeared two thousand years ago, but their promised Messiah has not arrived yet. The Wise of that world are called Therapeutae, because of their ablutions and healing baths, and they foreswear the love of women and the fruit of the vine. They hunted down and destroyed all other forms of the Craft save their own. The world is said to be wealthy beyond dreams, and ruled from a city of silver towers, called Agadir.”

  Abby stepped closer and said softly, “Your pardon, great and wise ones, noble sea-witch, noble ghost-walker, noble abomination. May I speak?”

  “Yes,” I said, “Provided you never think you have to ask again. We’re brother and sister, remember?”

  Abby said slowly. “The sea captain. Is his name truly Dakkar? It sounds much like a word in the One Language. Daqqu-re’u. It is short for Daqqu-re’u-hinnu.”

  When Abby said it, of course I understood the meaning. Re’u-hinnu meant skipper, a ship’s master. Daqqu meant the smallest crumb, the pulverized, the left-over, the remnant. It meant something too small to notice: a nobody, a nameless man.

  Cap
tain No One. It was a strange name for a sea pirate.

  I said, “Who is he?”

  Foster said, “Our getaway van. Which got away without us.”

  Abby said, “Never have I seen the Sea Pirate of the Ocean of Uncreation. His name is known and feared throughout many immensities.”

  Foster said to me, “The reason why the Dark Tower is afraid of him is that he stole the latest, biggest, best and most baddest badass dreadnaught, chock-full of experimental weapons and hexes, right out of the shipyards of the Dark Tower where she was just built, and during the theft he turned the super-weapons on the ships still being built, and blew them to scrap as well as the headquarters where the plans were stored. And he took the naval engineer who designed the vessel with him as his first mate. It was a huge slap in the mouth for Anshargal, the warlord here, and an even more huge kick in the — uh — pants for the Enmeduranki, the chief of Astrologers, because no one predicted it. That is why we thought Dakkar was a foreverborn.”

  To Abby I said, “Did Ossifrage lead you to the rendezvous with Dakkar, or did you lead him?”

  She said, “I led him.”

  “How did you know where it was?”

  “The Big Man told me to meet the Pirate in the Grove of Ningirsu, and seek escape through him.” When she said it, I knew that Ningirsu meant Battle-god.

  I said to Foster, “Is her Big Man one of your Wisecraft? How many groups are there? Can they help us? Smuggle us off the planet?” I was thinking maybe the ratcatcher bird could carry a message to him, and he could talk sense into Penny’s pretty, blonde, bookworm head.

  Foster said something to her in a language that sounded like Italian with a German accent.

  She answered back, “Coppersmith.”

  He turned to me, “Monkey-Girl was taken by the local Romany away from her master Slaughterbench a few years back, and adopted as one of us. The local tribe is of the Calderash clan.”