Master of Myth (The Antigone's Wrath Series Book 1)

by Starla Huchton

  In one swing, the side panel caved in on itself. She continued pummeling the slowly dying Machine as springs and gears flew in all directions. Panting, she stared down at the heap of motionless junk. A swift kick scattered shrapnel in all directions. Wiping her forehead with the back of her arm, Rachel let the pipe drop with a clatter and sunk to her knees. After pawing through the wreckage, her fingers wrapped around the familiar shape of the ruby-crusted ring. As she clenched it in her fist, she fought back tears. Such a small thing caused so much suffering.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Consequences

  Rachel stumbled through the doorway, grabbing at the nearest pillar to steady her. She looked around the corner to see Iris and Eddie slumped against the wall but seemingly unharmed. Slowly, they were coming around. Her gaze drifted across the hall to where she left Danton strapped to the column.

  Her stomach churned as she realized where those last screams had come from.

  Danton lay prone over a pile of rubble. She couldn’t see his face, but what she saw of his right arm stole her breath. Instead of flesh and bone, gears and pistons lay in their place. He was covered in metal from fingertips to shoulder. The appendage twitched slightly, but gave no outward signs of hostility.

  Rachel rushed to where he lay. For a moment, she was unsure if he lived, but a shallow, rattling breath told her at least that much. She rolled him over as gently as she could and placed his head in her lap. “Danton?” She choked back a sob. “Danton, can you hear me?”

  As she brushed the hair away from his face, he moaned. She felt a hand on her shoulder. Iris knelt beside her, a fluttering hand covering her mouth.

  “Is there anything you can do for him?” Rachel whispered, not making eye contact.

  Iris remained silent for a moment. She swallowed hard. “I don’t think there’s much I can do for…” she trailed off. “If there’s any pain, I might be able to help with that, though.”

  Rachel shifted to one side, propping Danton up as Iris took her place. As she did at the Zhuqing monastery, the first mate placed her hands on either side of his face and closed her eyes. It took longer for the green light to come this time. Iris looked drained, and it was clear she drew on her deepest reserves to help the master-at-arms. After a minute or two, some color returned to Danton’s cheeks, and he inhaled deeply. Rachel tensed, ready to subdue him should the shock prove to be too much.

  His eyes remained closed, but he spoke calmly. “Is it as bad as I think it is?”

  Rachel rested a hand on his chest. “That depends entirely on what you’re prepared to accept. But no matter your state, Danton, you remain part of my crew.”

  “Are you in any pain?” Iris still held his face, but the green light was gone.

  Danton’s eyes fluttered open and he stared up at her. “Non, no pain, but my arm itches terribly.”

  Before the women could stop him, Danton reached over with his left hand to scratch his right. When his fingers touched metal, he froze, then sat up to get a better view. His face was pale, but unreadable as his gaze drifted over the alterations.

  “Can you walk?” Iris asked after a minute of this, interrupting his examination.

  He looked up, surprised by the question. “Oui, I think so.”

  “Iris, I hardly think this is the time to—” Rachel started to reprimand her, but Iris cut her off.

  “Captain, there’s something you don’t know.”

  The floor beneath them rumbled as dust rained down on their heads. Rachel stared at Iris, the question obvious in her eyes. Iris unclipped a pocket watch from her harness and frowned at it. “Damn. We may need to find another way out.”

  “Iris, what did you do?” Rachel covered her head as another more powerful round of tremors sent additional dust and stone tumbling from the ceiling.

  They both stood and helped Danton to his feet. “It seems I miscalculated the amount of time we needed to rescue you.”

  “Meaning?”

  Iris gave a sheepish grin. “I may have had Eddie set explosives on a timer at the main entrance.”

  Rachel sighed. “While I admire your forethought, perhaps that was not the wisest course of action.” She angled herself under Danton’s mechanical arm, trying not to wince as the metal dug into her shoulder. “Monsieur DuSalle, what are the odds you’ve your boatswain’s pipe on you?”

  He reached his intact arm inside his shirt and retrieved the pipe, slipping the leather thong over his head. “I would say there’s a very good chance.”

  Placing the pipe between her lips, Rachel blew the “all hands” call. Somewhere down the corridor, another similar call echoed, passing the word to gather the troops. She blew the call again, and two others answered. As she raised the instrument a third time, the sound of someone retching in the grand hall caught her attention. She passed the pipe to the first reporting crewman she recognized. Ushering Danton and Iris to the scene of carnage, she found Silas, doubled over and heaving.

  “Mon dieu,” Danton whispered under his breath as Rachel passed his weight to Iris.

  “Best not to dwell on it. It’s the stuff of nightmares.” She turned away from them and made for Silas.

  He was heaving again when she rested her hand on his back. “Did you find it?”

  He spat and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “It’s around the back columns, as you thought.” He swallowed hard and avoided looking at a nearby corpse. “Let me show you.”

  They jogged along the pillars until they reached the back wall. “There’s a trick to the door I didn’t see right off, but once you know it’s there it’s hard to hide.”

  He stopped before the back corner of the dais. Silas reached up and grabbed an empty torch bracket. When he turned it clockwise, stone ground against stone as a section of the floor dropped down and out of sight. He was right. With the section gone, it was hard to imagine how its separation wasn’t obvious before.

  “Do you know where this goes?”

  He shrugged. “I followed it for a while. It goes down farther, then seems to turn upwards, though I’m not certain where it ends or how long it takes to get there. There aren’t any branches, so it won’t be difficult to navigate. It is a bit small, however. Just wide enough for two to stand shoulder to shoulder and possibly seven feet floor to ceiling. Less in some areas. There’s some sort of emergency lighting running along the ground, but not much in the way of illumination.”

  Rachel nodded. “It will do. Thank you.”

  As she returned to Iris and Danton, she heard the sound of a crowd gathering in the corridor. The men heeded her call.

  “We have a way out,” she said as she approached. “Head to the back of the room. Mr. Jensen is waiting to show you the way. You need to get Danton out of here.”

  “But—” Iris protested.

  “Those are your orders, Iris.” Rachel held up a hand, silencing her. “Both of you. Go. Now.”

  Iris looked as though she had much more to say about the issue, but Rachel didn’t give her the chance. Turning on her heel, she headed outside to direct her men to the exit. While there seemed to be a good amount of her own among the survivors, there were more foreign faces than she was used to seeing. Upon closer inspection, she caught sight of an intact sleeve bearing gold embroidery. Her eyes went wide at the realization. Surely Iris hadn’t indebted them to Yong Wu to secure these forces. But, then how…

  Her blood iced when the slight figure of Jiao Wu came dancing into view.

  “Captain Sterling!” the girl said when she reached Rachel. “It is wonderful to see you in…” Her eyes swept up and down the captain’s dirty, torn, and bloody appearance. “Good health?”

  Tiredly, Rachel sighed. “I’ll survive, and we will most definitely be discussing your presence here when we’re back aboard. For now, gather your father’s forces. There’s another exit in the far end of this room. I recommend staying to the wall. It’s a bit messy in the open area.” Glancing to where she’d left him, Eddie stood, looking
dazed and a little worse for the wear. “Take Mr. Maclaren here with you.” Grabbing him by the arm, Rachel dragged Eddie towards Jiao and gave them both a severe “or else” look.

  The children behind her and dealt with, Rachel searched for the young crewman she charged with the boatswain’s pipe. As she went, she gave directions to the exit. Eventually, the milling crowd filed towards it. It didn’t take long for the exclamations of horror and disgust to reach her, but she pushed them out of her mind. The crewman calling the “All Hands” looked relieved to see her. He reported most of the crew returned and, save for three he knew to be dead, few remained unaccounted for. She gave a stiff nod of recognition and sent the man away, relieving him of Danton’s pipe.

  The shuffle of men continued as the crowd thinned. Two stragglers brought news of several deaths as they limped to safety. Rachel paced nervously. If they didn’t leave soon, what was left of the Brotherhood might return and she was woefully outgunned now. As the last of Yong Wu’s men disappeared into the great hall, Rachel chewed her lip indecisively. Was that the end of them?

  She heard footsteps behind her, but something didn’t feel right about the sound. Perhaps it was the tap of hard soles against the floor, or the surefooted steps. Regardless, Rachel only moved when she heard the clicking of a hammer pulling back on a pistol.

  “Rachel!” Iris screamed. The sound of a single shot engulfed her warning.

  Rachel spun around, first catching sight of Mortimer Cross, a long-barreled pistol pointed out in front of him. Her gaze followed the line of fire. Dread bubbled in her stomach. That bullet, meant for her, found another target.

  When her eyes rested on the form of the first mate, the world closed in, reduced to a singular event of any importance. Rachel’s head reeled from shock as Iris stood there, mouth agape, trying to comprehend what had happened. She stared at Rachel, eyes already glazing over as a scarlet stain bloomed in the center of her chest. Unaware of anything or anyone else, Rachel ran to the open doorway of the gathering hall. Her arms closed around Iris as the woman’s legs collapsed beneath her.

  “No no no no no!” Rachel repeated as she sank to the floor with her. “Stay with me, Iris. Look at me!” Her hand pressed on the wound uselessly, blood seeping between her fingers.

  Iris lifted her eyes to Rachel’s and gave a weak smile. “It was always you, you know.”

  Rachel blinked back tears as Iris touched her face. “What do you mean, always me? No, don’t answer that. You shouldn’t speak.”

  “You…” Iris began. She coughed, choking on the blood pooling in her lungs. “You were the reason Danton never stood a chance.”

  “What—” Rachel’s question was broken as Iris pressed her lips against hers.

  The kiss lasted only a moment. Iris released her, whispering against her mouth, “No one shines as brightly as you.”

  Stunned, Rachel struggled to find words for her friend. As she searched for something, anything, to say, Iris went limp in her arms, one last exhale brushing Rachel’s neck, and Iris’s head rested on her shoulder. Rachel was paralyzed as she clung to her friend’s lifeless body. She pulled back and studied Iris’s face. She looked peaceful, as though she were only sleeping for a moment. A surge of sorrow threatened to devour her sanity.

  That’s when she heard his laughter.

  It started as a low chuckle, but soon Mortimer Cross laughed loudly and heartily. Shaking with rage, Rachel’s resolve solidified into a single, piercing thought: this man will suffer greatly before he dies.

  She propped Iris against the doorframe. A single, smoky purple vial remained on the harness strapped around the first mate. She placed a loving kiss upon her forehead and palmed the tube. No matter what the liquid’s purpose, it would undoubtedly cause pain. She stood and turned to face the cackling madman. When she took two paces toward him, he raised his gun.

  The bullet slammed into her left shoulder, and she spun as it caught her, throwing her to the floor. He smiled as he watched her lift herself up to a crawling position, waiting for her to stand again. She faced him a second time, hands clenched at her side. This time, she did not advance on him, opting to stare at him with an intensity that made him balk. He raised the gun again.

  She heard the click of the firing pin striking ammunition, but rather than a controlled blast came the grinding of metal. He pulled the trigger again, yet this time even the click was absent. Energy erupted from the weapon as it exploded and bent around his hand. Mortimer Cross screamed in agony as steel burrowed into his flesh, ripping at the tendons and cracking through bone. Sinking to his knees, he shot a terrified look at Rachel. His mouth gaped in fear as she approached in measured, steady paces.

  Rachel towered over him as he cowered, clutching his hand. She clicked her heel and the thin, silver blade emerged from the toe of her boot with a quiet snick. Oblivious to everything but her penetrating stare, he made no move to stop her or defend himself as she pulled back her foot and kicked the knife into his groin. He pitched backwards, howling in pain. Rachel ripped her boot free, but did not return the weapon to its concealment. She sneered as he rolled onto his side, grabbing this new wound. She kicked at him again. The blade plunged into his back and sunk deep into bone. As the Brother gasped and choked for air, she bent over him and shoved the purple vial into his gaping mouth. With a ferocious grunt, she smashed her heel into his chin. His eyes bulged as the glass shattered, releasing the violet fluid. It poured from his mouth as his screams turned into gurgling, panicked cries. The chemical ate through his skin, dissolving the tissue into pink ooze, melting his face. Wild eyes danced in a sea of sheer, unadulterated torture.

  “May you find all the peace in Hell that you bestowed upon me.” She spat on him.

  He was still writhing when she turned away, slipping the ring back into her pocket.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Parting

  She couldn’t leave Iris behind. Though wounded herself, even if demons were chasing her she would have found a way to bring her friend back to the surface. More than once she stopped to rest. Rachel refused to cry, however. Many tears would be shed, but not in this dark place. Her sorrow had to wait.

  With one last burst of effort, she stumbled into the dying sunlight of dusk. Someone familiar caught her as she fell, but exhaustion overtook her before she determined who. She awoke the next afternoon in her own bed.

  The days marched on in a numb haze. On her orders, explosive charges were placed in the caves accessing the underground ruins. She didn’t stay to see the blasts. The Antigone’s Wrath pulled away from the island of Yonaguni, leaving both the ruins and her lineage buried in the rubble.

  Silas proved to be of more use to Danton than what little the ship had for medical treatment. As there was no way to remove all of the machinery fused to his arm without performing an amputation, Danton decided to make the best of it. He spent hours in Silas’s workshop having adjustments done and streamlining the bulky parts. With the inventor’s help, the arm was reduced to almost-normal size over the course of the journey back to Singapore. There was some discussion on possible weapon additions to the appendage, but Rachel couldn’t work herself up enough to feign excitement in the conversation. Rachel considered Danton lucky for having something to distract him from the loss of Iris.

  Her despondency even extended to the matter of the headstrong Jiao Wu. She couldn’t muster a proper scolding for the girl for putting herself in the incredibly dangerous situation that was Yonaguni. When Jiao asked for permission to stay aboard after the Singapore port visit, Rachel at first told her no. When the girl insisted, Rachel sighed and capitulated on the condition that her father give expressed written consent signed and witnessed by a third party. It would be an apprenticeship contract. Rachel was confident there was no way Yong Wu would agree to any such thing, no matter how large a tantrum Jiao threw. This proved to be true. Jiao’s possessions were spirited away along with the young mistress. A letter arrived soon thereafter, thanking Rachel f
or the safe return of Yong Wu’s eldest child, along with the guarantee of safe passage through the region whenever she wished, so long as it did not involve docking anywhere near the new location chosen for Jiao’s continued education. As she had no plans to entangle herself with the precocious little princess any further, this was a more than reasonable request.

  Yong Wu bestowed one final gift on Rachel. Some years ago, Iris’s parents were victims of a sudden tsunami, and she had no family to claim her body. As such, Rachel petitioned Yong Wu for permission to utilize the services of local monks and hold an open-air cremation. As the man wanted the Antigone’s Wrath to be away as hastily as possible, he arranged for an appropriate ceremony the following morning. In an uncharacteristic show of sympathy, Yong Wu sent a spray of orchids to the rite. He always fancied the first mate, and the gesture was touching, if in an unsettling way. Rachel waited at the site until the very last of the embers ceased to smolder. The sun set as the monks gathered the remains and presented them to her.

  In the twelve hours she stood vigil, Rachel came to a decision.

  “I’ve booked passage back to England for you and your apprentice.” She stared out over the ship’s railing, watching the lights of Singapore dance on the water.

  Silas’s smile faded at this news. “Booked passage? I thought…”

  Rachel sighed. “You thought, what?”

  “I thought…” he trailed off and his shoulders drooped. “I thought I’d be traveling in your company a bit longer.”

  “We’re headed in opposite directions, Mr. Jensen.” Rachel didn’t meet his eyes. “Captain Owusu has agreed to see you as far as Athens. From there you’ll need to contact a friend of mine, an olive exporter, who owes me a favor. I’ve prepared a letter for you to present to him.” She turned then, and produced an envelope from inside her coat.