Ten Ruby Trick

by Julia Knight

  “Again Josie,” a voice said behind him.

  A grimace split her face, twisted it out of all recognition as she raised the club. It quivered in her hands for a moment, as though she debated whether or not to use it, her mouth shaping words that never came.

  “Josie, again I said. Knock him out so I can bond him.”

  She wouldn’t, gods no, Josie wouldn’t—The club whistled down and Van Gast twisted out of its path half a heartbeat before it hit the bed where his head had been. Betrayed, she’d betrayed him for that fucking Remorian. He couldn’t think for the cold twisting of his heart, the pounding in his head, the sharp agony of trying for breath when winded stabbing his chest but still not as bad a pain as this. Betrayed.

  He lunged for the window with a shout of “Guld!” Immediately the air shimmered round him but the curtains were closed, Guld couldn’t see to aim. Van Gast grabbed for the curtains, meant to pull them from their rail, but at a snapped command from the voice, Holden barreled into him and smacked him into the wall. Just in time to get caught in Guld’s spell. The room spun out of existence, and the world was black as the depths of Van Gast’s betrayed heart.

  Chapter Twenty

  Holden was a mass of pain. Everything hurt, every bone, every muscle and sinew, throbbed with it. He was sure he’d passed out at some point, but he was in no hurry for consciousness, not if he had to bear the pain that thrummed along every nerve and beat in time with his heart. He kept his eyes shut and tried to work out what had happened. He’d had Van Gast pinned against the wall, finally managed to lay hands on the slippery bastard and then…and then what? Voices floated round him, but he didn’t pay them much attention.

  Fingers probed at the skin on his wrist, delving into his bond-scars. No, no—Cattan couldn’t tighten it any more, it’d kill him. A moan escaped him at the thought and he tried to drag his arm away, but his body didn’t seem to want to respond. The hand tightened its grip.

  “Can you do it?” The voice was Van Gast’s, harsh with hate.

  “No, um, that’s the whole point of a bond. Only the person who put it on can take it off. If I try, it’ll probably kill him.” This voice was gentler, nervous.

  “A plan with no downside then. If he dies, then we can just leave the body and they can track us to here, where we won’t be. No loss. I still say we should kill the bastard anyway.”

  “But—”

  “Who’s captain here, me or you?”

  “Well, you, of course,” said the gentler voice. “But—”

  “Look, Josie’s betrayed me—us—for this—this fucker. I don’t care if you can get it off or not. I changed my mind. I want him dead, so get out of my way and let me kill him before he comes round and tries to kill us.”

  “He might be able to help us, though. Get away from that mage, he knows how they work. Because if Josie has betrayed you, um, us, then she’ll be after us, won’t she? And she knows all your hiding places, every place we might run. They want to bond you, Van. And the Remorians don’t stop when they know what they want. Not ever. There won’t be a man alive who’d sail on your ship once he finds that out.”

  “I haven’t got a ship, or nothing decent, in case you’d not noticed, thanks to fucker here. And if we kill him, we’ll—”

  “Van, you’re in no fit state for anything, let alone thinking clearly. She betrayed you for him. And now you have him. You can’t think of any way to use that? He knows their plan, whatever it is, and we need to know it too if we hope to avoid it, and we need to know it quickly, without them tracking his bond. If we can get it off, we can make him help us, and we’ve got a chance of escaping, maybe find a way to stop them coming after you any more. But not while he’s bonded.”

  Holden was beginning to like the gentler voice, whoever it was. It was keeping him alive. He cracked open an eyelid. Van Gast stood over him, sword in hand, flecks of blood staining his chin and shirt. His breathing was erratic and a look of flat, dead hatred burned in him. A smaller man stood next to him, podgy and nervous, as though he couldn’t quite believe that he had the courage to say what he did.

  Van Gast paced up and down, glaring at the nervous man before he threw the sword against the wall hard enough that sparks flew when it hit a picture frame. He stalked over to a window and stared out into the night.

  “How do we get the bond off then? You said it couldn’t be done.”

  “Well, um, there could be one thing we could try, not taking the bond off, but removing what it’s bonded to. I heard of one man who did it, and it worked. And it could help us throw them off the scent.”

  “Is it quick? Because we need to get out of here as soon as we can, with him or not.”

  “Get your sword and bring it over here.”

  Holden struggled to open his eyes fully, to sit up, anything. What were they going to do to him? Taking the bond off would kill him, everyone knew that. His heart pounded painfully as he tried to speak, but his mouth was puffed and swollen and his tongue couldn’t form the words, welded to the top of his mouth in dread.

  The bond was all he knew, like it or loathe it, he knew nothing of living without it. It was everything, no matter his dreams. Even in those he was loosely bound, not entirely free. Now it looked like he might get his wish, and the thought of release from its confines, of never knowing what to do except what you wanted, was more terrifying than whatever they wanted to do to him.

  “I’ll hold him, you cut.” The hand grabbed at Holden’s wrist again and pulled his arm out straight. “There.”

  “My pleasure.” Van Gast advanced toward him, a nasty little smile twitching at his face. He raised the sword.

  “No, please no,” Holden managed to murmur but try as he might, he couldn’t summon the strength in his limbs to move.

  Van Gast stared at him, his lip curled into a grinning sneer. “Who cares what you want? You should be thanking me.”

  He brought the blade down, and Holden’s only clear thought was that even the bonding hadn’t hurt as much as this. Nothing had hurt like this in the history of the world. Then he screamed until he couldn’t scream any more.

  Van Gast sneered down at Holden where he sat propped against the wall, soaked in his own blood. At least he’d stopped screaming, and Guld had cauterized the arm with one of his spells. He’d live. Van Gast crouched down in front of him. Fucker. Josie had betrayed him with this? He spat onto the floor and tried not to breathe too hard for the bruising of his ribs.

  Holden stared at the stump where his hand had been and muscles flexed along his arm, as though he was trying to move fingers that were no longer there. His eyes were wide and white and he hadn’t blinked in what seemed like forever. Van Gast poked him in the chest with the barrel of his pistol. No reaction.

  Van Gast didn’t have time for this. He had them holed up in a shitty little tavern up the shore from the docks. They were looking for him, Remorians, looking to bond him, and that filled him with dread. Worse than dying. That Josie was helping them just…he couldn’t think about it, or he’d start laying about with his sword and kill everyone in sight. His beautiful, twisting, butterfly Josie had betrayed him for this pathetic excuse for a man, one who did only what he was told. A slave, a willing, brain-dead slave with no will or desire or mind of his own.

  All Van Gast had was one nervous and exhausted mage, the weapons he had on him, a Remorian man who he’d rather was dead, a burning need to kill someone, anyone, and a pack of Remorian hounds on his tail. That was the only reason Holden was still alive, that Van Gast hadn’t let himself go and stabbed the bastard through the heart. He was a wanted man, and Holden knew why, and where and maybe how they planned to get him.

  Because Van Gast wasn’t going to do the sensible thing and run the fuck away. He couldn’t run far enough, or fast enough. If they were after him, they’d get him in the end. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when. So fuck it, he was going to do the stupid thing.

  He poked the pistol into Holden’s chest again, harder thi
s time. “Hey, you, look at me.”

  Holden’s head lolled round and he looked blankly at Van Gast.

  “Why do they want me?”

  Holden grinned, a dreadful, sickening stretch of the lips, and Van Gast had to wonder if the loss of his hand had sent the man mad, or maybe it was the loss of the bond. Holden chuckled, shook his head and looked back down at the stump.

  Van Gast poked him again. “Why? Come on, man, why do they want me? If they find us, it’s your skin too, because I’ll make damn well sure you die before I do. So, why are they after me, what do they want?”

  Holden looked up at him and his eyes seemed to clear a little. “You cut it off me. Only the person who put the bond on can take it off, or it kills. I’m dead already. You cut it off. Now what do I do?”

  “You should be thanking me, because you’re a free man now. Do what you like, when you like. But first, you’re going to help me.”

  “Free? Never free. Bond’s in the head, that’s where they get you. Right from the day you’re born. Tell you what to do, what to think. Bonded in the head.”

  “I’ll fucking shoot you in the head unless you start talking. Why do they want me?”

  Holden chuckled again and the sound sent icy little rivers of dread down Van Gast’s spine. “You made the Master angry, oh yes. Never seen him so angry, and you don’t want to do that. You made the Remorians look weak, and that’s bad, very bad. Wants to watch a bond kill you, wants to watch it eat away your heart and then your soul and when you’re dead you’ll still be bonded to him. Bonded unwilling, worst way to go. Worst way to go.”

  Kyr’s mercy. Van Gast was speechless and Holden rambled on into the silence.

  “Took a ship, few moons back. Had his new wife-to-be on board. You took her, you stole his wife, not Remorian, a trade deal with the Yelen. Not a good plan. Sea Witch, you remember it?”

  The Sea Witch, hadn’t that been—oh gods, he had. He’d taken the ship and everything on board, sailed it out to some gods-forsaken islands and marooned everyone. After he’d stolen everything of value they had on them, obviously. He’d left them food and water, made sure the island had enough of everything to feed them, and left them there. Quite merciful as racketeers went, but he’d been in a good mood. He’d taken that diamond to Haban and—wait, that must have been who had chased him in Estovan. Remorians, not the Yelen, had been after him even then.

  “Who?” he asked. “Whose new wife?”

  “Master. The Master, Master of all, Master of mages, Master of everyone. We found them after a time, but it was no good. She’d been spoiled by then, one of the sailors, having his baby. You humiliated him, and he doesn’t take kindly to humiliation.”

  The Master? Van Gast could only assume he meant the shadowy power that lurked behind the Archipelago, one few ever spoke of. No one outside knew who or what he was, only that to sail in their waters was worse than a death sentence, that he ruled the servitude of his subjects with a ruthless efficiency. And Van Gast had unwittingly deprived him of a new, virginal, un-pregnant wife.

  Shit on a stick, he was in trouble. Josie’s betrayal sank into nothingness in comparison. Almost. But Remorians after him…

  Van Gast tried to clear his head, but it was spinning with wisps of cloud and confusion and despite his first question, there was only one truth he wanted to know. “You and Josie, you, well, you and her…” He licked at dry lips. He couldn’t even bear to say it.

  Holden seemed to guess his meaning. “Yes. She always did love me, she said. Cattan made her say it. She was helping me find you, catch you. The ruby trick thing was her idea, she thought you’d know what we were about otherwise. This way, we could get you close enough to Remorian waters, get you out quick, and you wouldn’t sniff a rat because you’d just think she was trying to twist you. You wouldn’t think she was turning you over to us.”

  Trust me. And like a fool he had. Van Gast sank down to the floor. Trust me.

  “She was going to help me find you, catch you, and then I was going to be free, or as free as a Remorian ever gets, and she’d be with me. Only Cattan, Cattan…” Holden trailed off for a moment and Van Gast was glad, because he wasn’t sure he could listen to any more without being sick or shooting someone. “Cattan got our bonds and he…he controls us. He twisted them so tight, so tight. Nothing to do but what he wants, can’t even think what he doesn’t want us to think, for the Master. And it’s killing her.”

  Holden stared down at his stump and thrashed it on the floor till new blood sprang from the wound. “My fault. After she told me about the trick, I put the bond on her, and it’s killing her. I never thought she’d fight so hard. I thought I’d have time, and I would have, if you hadn’t brought me here.”

  Shock, and a glimmer of hope, brought Van Gast’s voice back. “You bonded her? She only did this because you bonded her?”

  “No, she agreed even before that, she suggested it. She hates you, true and true, do anything to get you. That’s why she did it, that and for her own life and the boy.”

  Van Gast lurched to his feet and staggered to the window. He wasn’t going to show this bastard how much those words hurt him. That Josie had always loved this fucker. A tumble, that’s all he’d been, a fucking tumble. He leaned against the sill and let his head hang between his arms. He thought it’d been bad when Tilly had died, and him not there to help her. Death was common enough, too common for him to think it tragedy, though he grieved. He’d thought it bad when her family closed ranks against him, against the racketeer who’d taken their respectable daughter, and refused to let him know where she was buried, or what she might have said before she died, whether she’d asked for him, or even how she died. Anything that might have helped him, have given him a crumb of comfort. He’d thought that was bad, but it was nothing, a gnat’s bite compared to this gut-wound.

  It was a long time before he stood up straight, anger burning a hole in him, so bright it should shine through his skin. Wallowing wouldn’t achieve anything, only gave them more time to find him. Take the anger and use it. There were racks aplenty in this town. He could round them up, get them to take her ship. Not a one would think anything of it. He hated her, didn’t he? And every rack feared Remorian. One hint they were here bond-ganging…her crew, her crew would be bonded too, no doubt. He could get it off them, save them from that, from the worst nightmare of any racketeer. He could kill a few Remorians while he was at it. Kill this Cattan and maybe ensure the Remorians stopped hunting him, because otherwise half a world away wasn’t far enough. “What will they do next?”

  “Find you, depend upon it. You’ve got rid of my bond, and so they can’t use it to track me. That’ll slow them down but not by much. Cattan lost a lot of his power in the storm, washed away when we sprang a leak. Josie got most of the rest but it’s coming back. Every hour he’s stronger and even now he’s stronger than any of your mages. He’ll find you and bond you and then the Master can watch you squirm.”

  Van Gast turned on him. “Are you enjoying this?”

  Holden smiled and whacked his stump on the floor again. He hardly seemed to know he was doing it. “Honestly? Yes. They’ll catch you, then I can get that bond off her. Only I can take it from her, not even Cattan can do that and have her live. If it’s not too late. She’s weak, maybe too weak to withstand that. The longer she fights, the weaker she’ll be. Sooner they catch you the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Van Gast cocked the pistol and aimed it at Holden’s head. The barrel made little figures of eight as his hand shook. Too much, it was all too much, he was stretched too far. “And maybe I should just shoot you now and have done with it. Give me a good reason I shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t have one.” Holden looked up at him, his eyes clear now, steady, as though daring Van Gast to pull the trigger.

  Fuck, he was tempted. Tempted to blow a hole through his stupid, treacherous head. Blow away the words and pretend they’d never been spoken, so he could pretend it wasn’t tr
ue, that she hadn’t done this. Laid with this fucker, told him she loved him. Told him, and never Van Gast. The end of the barrel swayed wildly and he brought up his other hand to hold it steady.

  Only shooting him wouldn’t make it untrue, wouldn’t make things undone. And Van Gast had a good use for Holden. A very good use indeed. Not the sensible thing, the stupid thing. He couldn’t run, but he could kill. And he was in just the mood for it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Holden stared at what was left of his arm and barely even noticed when Van Gast left except that the room seemed less full, as though he’d taken up all the available space while he was there.

  It wasn’t the loss of his hand that bothered him but the gap in him where the bond should be. His mind felt too big for his head, all the fears and uncertainties the bond had repressed expanding to fill him. He had nothing to hold on to. No certainty, no order, no pattern. Just loose, swirling thoughts in his head with no direction. He was free, and it stupefied rational thought for a time. Maybe for always.

  Ilsa. Would Ilsa be all right? He’d lost his bond, would that change hers to him? He tried not to think of her terror, of her being alone and lost without it, that his freedom might be her downfall. Bad enough that he was the cause of Josie’s.

  The mage hunkered down in front of him, out of reach, plump and nervous. His tatty robes dragged on the floor and swept the dirt into little piles. Guld, Van Gast had called him. “I should stop that bleeding. You’ve lost enough blood already.” He nodded at Holden’s stump.

  Holden stared at it again, tried again to move fingers that were no longer there and only now noticed the blood that seeped from pink, scabby tissue. “It doesn’t matter.”