Black Heart

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Black Heart Page 2

by Justin Somper


  Grace smiled and snuggled in closer to her brother. Shutting her eyes, she allowed herself to retreat into her memories of happy times in the lighthouse. But it wasn’t long before her restless mind offered a fresh thought. “How did you find the climb up the mountain last night?”

  “What? Oh, that. Nothing to it,” Connor said. “A bit of a hike, but you know me. Super fit and all that. Besides, there was a full moon. It was almost like daylight out there.” He turned toward her. “Why do you ask?”

  “We had the most arduous journey up here,” she said. “The captain, Lorcan, Shanti, and I. It was so dark, and of course we had to lead Lorcan because he couldn’t see back then. Shanti lost her footing and almost fell. And just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse, it began to snow. The path was so steep. Didn’t you think so?”

  Connor shook his head. “It was like a country road. Maybe you took a different route. It’s funny, though, I only ever saw one path at the foot of the rock.”

  “Yes,” Grace agreed. “Yes, but it must be like Olivier told me once. That the mountain changes. That everyone makes a different way up here.”

  “Who’s Olivier?” Connor asked.

  Grace paused, remembering Mosh Zu’s former lieutenant. He had been by turns indulgent and irritated with her, his moods as changeable as the weather. And he had betrayed his master, thinking that Sidorio would promote him, only to find himself betrayed and rejected by the renegade Vampirate. “He was no one you need to know about,” she said at last. “He’s gone now.”

  Connor slipped off the chair and drew himself to his feet once more. “How much longer do you think we’ll have to wait to see her again? We just got to say hello to her and then they took her away.”

  “They have to be careful,” Grace answered. “She was one of the lost souls traveling with the captain. You saw how fragile they were, how bewildered at being set free.”

  “Is she our mother, Grace, or some kind of ghost?” He looked at his sister in confusion. “She reached out her arms to us. She kissed us. I didn’t imagine her, did I? She was as much flesh and blood as you or I.”

  Grace stood up and went over to him. “I don’t have any answers for you, Connor. I wish I did. All I know is that Mosh Zu will do what is best. Until then, we just have to wait.”

  “I’m not very good at waiting,” Connor said, starting to pace once more.

  “We’ve waited for her for fourteen years,” Grace said. “What’s a few more hours?”

  Connor smiled. “I guess when you put it like that…”

  As he spoke, there was a knock at the door. It opened and Mosh Zu’s assistant, Dani, poked her head around it. As usual, her face was impossible to read.

  “Mosh Zu asks you to join him in his meditation room,” she said.

  “Is our mother with him?” Connor asked. “Is she all right?”

  Perhaps Dani didn’t hear his question. She had already begun walking briskly along the corridor.

  “She’d tell us, wouldn’t she?” Connor turned to Grace. “If something was wrong?”

  Grace could hear the rising panic in her brother’s voice. “Come on,” she said, reaching out her hand for his.

  Grace felt her own heart beginning to race. She was every bit as anxious as Connor at the thought of what lay ahead.

  3

  THE QUEEN OF HEARTS

  “So, what does it take to get a drink around here?” Lady Lola Lockwood asked, her amber eyes skimming from Moonshine to Barbarro to Trofie Wrathe.

  The three Wrathes were rendered speechless by the sight before them. Lady Lockwood and her two companions, Marianne and Angelika, were all smiling, revealing three pairs of exceedingly long canine teeth that seemed to get longer and sharper the more you stared at them.

  Moonshine, who had been awed initially by the trio’s beauty, found his feelings toward them rapidly changing.

  “We’re thirsty,” said Marianne, stepping toward him.

  “Um, what… about… some… whiskey?” he faltered, reaching out for the decanter. But Marianne caught his arm and shook her head. “Can’t drink whiskey. Doesn’t suit my constitution.” With that, she snaked her other arm around Moonshine and clutched him tightly to her, her mouth perilously close to his ear.

  “Set him free!” commanded Barbarro. But Marianne seemed not to hear him. Barbarro turned to Lady Lockwood. “You, madam. You’re their leader. Tell her to release my son.”

  Lady Lockwood smiled and shook her head. “She’s just thirsty. And surely it’s only courteous to offer a stranger a drink of welcome on a chill night such as this?”

  “A drink of welcome?” Barbarro snarled. “Or a drink of blood?”

  “Now you’re talking!” said Angelika, stepping forward and snaking herself around the captain. He raised his arms and sword to defend himself, but he was taken by surprise at her strength. In her clutches, he was frozen, though whether by his own fear or some magic, it was hard to tell. Trofie watched in wonder as Angelika removed the sword from Barbarro’s fist as easily as a splinter, and tossed it away out of reach.

  She looked from side to side, to where her son and her husband stood helpless in the clutches of these women, these demons. What should she do? All normal rules of attack and defense seemed to be obsolete. Or were they? Trofie turned to Lady Lockwood. “Perhaps we can make a deal,” she began.

  At first, she thought Lady Lockwood might be too caught up in her own blood lust to answer her, but then she spoke. “A deal? What kind of deal?”

  “Whatever it takes,” said Trofie. “If it’s blood you’re after, then I can easily find some crew members for you.”

  Lady Lockwood smiled at that. “It’s a charming offer, my dear, but blood is rather like wine. When you’ve supped on superior vintages, you lose your taste for cheap plonk.”

  “So,” said Trofie, “is that why you came here tonight? To claim the blood of the captain and his family?”

  “My, I’m impressed,” said Lady Lockwood. “There aren’t many who could voice such a thought without plummeting into hysteria, yet you remain as cool as a glacier. It’s clear to see who wears the trousers on this ship.”

  “Thank you for the compliment,” said Trofie, “but if you simply came with the intent to maim us, then let’s not draw this out any longer.”

  On either side, Marianne and Angelika nodded at the thought, their grip on their two captives tightening. The fear currently being experienced by Barbarro and Moonshine was all too evident on the faces of both father and son.

  “Wait!” commanded Lady Lockwood. Like well-trained dogs, her two comrades turned at their leader’s voice. She held their gaze, then focused once more on Trofie. “You’re as beautiful as they say,” she said, running a finger over the curve of Trofie’s cheekbone. Trofie remained as still as a waxwork at Lady Lockwood’s ominous touch.

  “I will make you a deal,” Lady Lockwood announced. “I told you before that I like to acquire pretty things. Rare and valuable things.”

  As she spoke, her eyes never left Trofie’s for a moment. “As thirstFy as I am—as thirsty as we all are—I’m sure we could be distracted by a little treasure. What can you offer me, I wonder?” Lady Lockwood’s bright eyes twinkled.

  “Whatever it takes,” said Trofie, unflinching. “Whatever it takes for you to let my son and husband go free with their lives.”

  “Well,” Lady Lockwood said, raising an eyebrow. “You really do believe in family values, don’t you?”

  “Above all else,” said Trofie.

  Lady Lockwood reached out a hand once more to Trofie, but this time her fingers landed on the ruby necklace that dazzled like flame about Trofie’s swan-white neck. “What a beautiful necklace,” Lady Lockwood said. “And I’m quite sure it’s unique.”

  “Yes,” said Trofie. “Unique. Flawless. And worth a mint. If you want it, it’s yours.”

  Lady Lola shrugged. “Why not? It’s a little gaudy for my taste, but I know someone on my crew who woul
d adore it.”

  “If I give it to you, will you call them off?” Trofie asked.

  Lady Lockwood folded her arms. “I’m afraid it’s going to take a little more than that. But the necklace is a good starting point. Do you need any assistance unclasping it for me?”

  “No,” said Trofie, finally losing some of her poise. “No, I can manage.” She lifted her hands up to the back of her neck. As she did so, her golden fingers and ruby nails glimmered in the candlelight.

  “Ah!” sighed Lady Lockwood. “There it is! The fabled hand of Trofie Wrathe!”

  Hearing this, Trofie momentarily froze.

  “Do you see it, ladies?” Lady Lockwood asked. “Why, isn’t it a beauty? Such fine gold. Such perfect gemstones. It truly is a marvel. More fabulous even than we were led to believe! One of a kind.”

  Trofie unclasped her necklace and extended it in her golden hand to Lady Lockwood. But rather than taking the necklace, Lady Lockwood circled her fingers about Trofie’s wrist where the flesh gave way to gold. “Give it to me,” she said, her eyes flashing with excitement.

  “You want my hand?” Trofie said incredulously.

  “Yes, my dear.” Lady Lockwood nodded, as if to a stupid child. “I’ll take the necklace—it’s a pretty trinket—but your hand is the real treasure.”

  “But what do you want with it?” Trofie said, bewildered. “It’s no use to anyone but me.”

  Lady Lockwood still held the golden hand within her own. Now she loosened her hold. “I told you before,” she said. “I collect things. Pretty things. Unusual things. Sometimes I pass them on to my friends. And sometimes I keep them for myself. And this”—she caressed the golden fingers—“this I shall most definitely be keeping for myself.”

  “We have other treasures,” said Trofie. “Let me show you. Come to our treasure store and take your pick.”

  “No, thank you,” said Lady Lockwood. “I’m not as greedy as all that. I’ll go home tonight with the necklace and the hand and count myself a lucky girl.”

  “But it’s my mom’s hand!” protested Moonshine. Angelika giggled and ran her fingers through Moonshine’s hair.

  Trofie kept her cool, her eyes fixed on Lady Lockwood’s. “If I give it to you,” she asked, “will you leave us? Do you give me your word?”

  “I give you my word,” said Lady Lockwood.

  “Mom, you can’t just give her your—”

  “Be quiet, Moonshine. You’ve seen what Lady Lockwood is… what she is capable of. It’s a small price to pay.”

  “It’s your hand!” shouted Moonshine.

  But Trofie’s mind was made up. She reached across and released the catches with which the golden hand was fastened. It came free from her wrist. Trofie gave a nod. “It’s yours. Take it.”

  Smiling, Lady Lockwood took the hand in her own, sliding it out from Trofie’s sleeve. She lifted it to her lips and kissed it, then drew it into the folds of her cape. She clapped her hands in delight.

  “Ladies, let the prisoners go. We have what we came for.”

  As Marianne and Angelika reluctantly released Moonshine and Barbarro from their clutches, Trofie stared at Lady Lockwood. “You wanted my hand all along, didn’t you?”

  “Perhaps,” said Lady Lockwood with a smile. “Well, toodle-pip. Enjoy your midnight feast.” She tapped the top of the domed platter she had carried in, turned, and pushed open the door. Marianne and Angelika followed their leader back out into the corridor. It swung closed behind her, and the three members of the Wrathe family were alone once more. They looked at each other, dumbstruck.

  “I’m going after her,” Moonshine said.

  “No!” cried Trofie and Barbarro in unison.

  Moonshine stopped in his tracks. “But, Mom, your hand…”

  “We’ll get another,” Barbarro said.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Moonshine. “We’ll just pop out to the golden hand store!”

  “She’s a vampire, isn’t she?” At last Trofie’s voice betrayed some of the fear she had kept so well hidden before.

  “Yes, my dear,” nodded Barbarro, taking his wife in his arms. “A vampire. Or Vampirate. Whatever they call themselves. The same monsters who killed my dear brother Porfirio.”

  “All the more reason to exact a swift and terrible revenge,” Moonshine said.

  “This isn’t something to be entered into lightly or alone,” said his father. “We were lucky to get away with our lives tonight.”

  “All right,” Moonshine persisted. “But what are you planning to do about it?”

  “First, I’m going to talk to Molucco. He has some experience with these creatures. He talked me out of pursuing them for revenge before, but that’s all changed now. I’ll see to that. These monsters cannot attack us on our own ships! So we talk to Molucco. Then, I’m taking this up with the Pirate Federation. We will work together to purge the oceans of these menaces.” He bristled. “They chose the wrong ship to attack tonight! Let no one be in any doubt about that.”

  Moonshine couldn’t help but reflect that, stirring as his father’s words were, the captain had been rather less combative during his encounter with the Vampirates.

  Barbarro drew his wife and deputy closer to him and spoke more softly. “But right now, I’m taking your mother to our cabin,” he said to his son. “If you want to make yourself useful, summon the entire crew to meet me on the main deck in ten minutes sharp. I want to know just how those devils boarded the mighty Typhon in the first place.” His orders given, Barbarro led his wife out of the stateroom.

  Moonshine began to follow them, then stopped in his tracks, spying the domed tray that Lady Lockwood had carried in with her. His shock had given way to hunger. Was it too much to hope that there might be some tasty morsels under the lid?

  But as he lifted the lid, he was disappointed. The platter was empty, save for one item. A playing card.

  Moonshine reached forward and lifted it into his hands. It was similar to a regular playing card, but there was something odd about it. It was the queen of hearts… except that hearts were always red.

  And this card was black.

  4

  INCOMPLETE REUNION

  “No need to linger in the shadows,” Mosh Zu said as Grace and Connor entered the meditation chamber. He was standing in the center of the room, facing them. In front of him was a wicker chair, its braided twigs glowing pale gold in the lamplight. The back of the chair was turned to the twins. At its side, also made of wicker, was a round table on which sat a pitcher of water and three glasses. As Grace watched, a small, pale hand appeared from the other side of the chair and reached out for a glass. Grace’s heart lurched. The hand belonged to Sally, her mother. In just moments, she and Connor would sit down and have their first real conversation with her. Suddenly, the enormity of this meeting felt overwhelming to her. She reached for Connor’s fingertips, and she could feel him shaking, too.

  Mosh Zu remained matter-of-fact, asking Connor to help him bring two more chairs over to the middle of the room. Grace found herself alone, mere steps from her mother. Taking a deep breath, she walked forward. Sally’s eyes met hers, the vivid green of her irises perfectly mirroring Grace’s own.

  “Hello again!” Sally said, smiling up at her. She looked weak, but she was, just as Grace had remembered, flesh and blood. Grace leaned forward and kissed her mother’s cheek. It felt as smooth and cool as marble, but to Grace the important thing was that she could feel it. She remembered the visits she had received from Darcy when, though her friend had seemed to be in the same room, it had only been an astral projection and Grace’s hands had moved right through Darcy’s. This was different, very different.

  Sally grasped both of Grace’s hands and their eyes met, green on emerald green. As they did so, Grace had the strangest sensation. It began like the onset of a vicious headache, a searing pain right through her skull. The pain was only momentary, though, and as it gave way a series of images flashed before her eyes. The first was of he
r father, but he was younger than she had ever seen him. It was nighttime and he was outside, laughing. Grace felt Sally squeeze her hands once more. Now the image changed. This time, it was Sidorio she saw. He looked just the same as she remembered him. He was entering the long cabin at the bottom of the Nocturne, the cabin where the weekly feasts took place. Once more, Sally squeezed her hands and again the vision changed. This time, it was Lorcan Grace saw. He was looking at her closely, tears in his eyes. Then Sally took her hands away and the visions instantly disappeared.

  Grace stood rooted to the spot, dazed, as Sally turned to face Connor. As she watched mother and son embrace, Grace wondered if Sally had any clue as to the effect her touch had had upon her. And what did this strange sequence of images mean?

  “Let me look at you,” Sally said now. “Let me get a good look at both of you.”

  Grace turned and saw that Connor had come to a standstill beside her. He reached out his arm and looped it around Grace’s shoulder, though she was unsure whether he had done so in order to comfort her or to steady his own nerves.

  “Grace and Connor,” Sally said softly. “My twins. My angels!” It was clear from the rasp in her voice that these few words had not been produced without effort.

  “Why don’t you both take a seat?” Mosh Zu suggested, indicating the two empty chairs. As Grace sat down, she wondered why Mosh Zu had not brought over another for himself.

  “Doubtless, you have many questions for your mother,” Mosh Zu said. He turned to Sally, a soft smile sweeping across his face. “And I know she is eager to learn more about both of you. I shall leave you for a while. It is fitting that you should be alone together as a family. You have, each in your own ways, waited a very long time for this reunion.”

  As Mosh Zu walked toward the door, Grace felt her pulse quicken. A raft of questions raced through her brain. How long do we have? How fragile is Sally’s condition? What happens if she gets upset? She appreciated Mosh Zu’s offer to give them space to get to know each other, but she wished he had better prepared them, for all their sakes.

 

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