They all craned their necks up to the crow’s nest. A camera clicked several times in rapid succession from high above. “Beautiful!” called the voice.
“Fabrizio? Darling, is that you?” drawled Jacinta Slawter.
“The one and only,” called the photographer, a muscular man with long black hair in a ponytail. He nimbly descended the rigging, several cameras dangling from his tanned and toned limbs. “What took you so long?” he asked, jumping down onto the deck. “I’m almost done here.”
“I wasn’t sure who they were sending. I thought we were meeting at three,” Jacinta drawled. “Don’t rush off, darling. I’d like to get a few shots of myself with Cap—with Mistress Li. Oh, and perhaps with this young man, Connor Pestilence.” She hissed to Fabrizio. “Apparently, they’re old friends.”
“Fabalous!” said Fabrizio, not wasting any time and shooting several shots of Cheng Li and Connor there and then.
“Well,” said Cheng Li. “Who’s for the grand tour?”
“Lead the way!” drawled Jacinta Slawter, managing to inject just a hint of excitement into her voice.
As Connor followed Cheng Li, Jacinta Slawter, and Fabrizio around the ship, he was awed at every turning. It really was an amazing piece of craftsmanship. Cheng Li had, unsurprisingly, been highly involved in the ship’s design. As she pointed out its key features, she talked with complete assurance about why certain decisions had been made and how the craft married the best of the old traditions with cutting-edge innovation.
Jacinta Slawter nodded authoratively and scribbled furiously, while Fabrizio leaped about here, there, and everywhere, snapping away. Connor found a new level of respect for Cheng Li as he listened and observed her. She seemed to grow in stature each time they met.
“Now forgive me for asking this question,” said Jacinta Slawter, her golden pencil at the ready, “but I owe it to the readers of Ship Shape. Undoubtedly, there will be some among the pirate community who will say that you are too young to be a captain. How do you respond to that?”
Before Cheng Li had a chance to answer, Connor found himself leaping into action. “Cheng Li is young,” he said, “but what she doesn’t know about being a pirate isn’t worth knowing.”
“Thank you, Connor.” Cheng Li nodded, with a dignified smile. She turned to Ms. Slawter. “If the old guard has a problem with my youth, then they are also going to be challenged by my crew as a whole. I have recruited several young people into key positions of responsibility. Some would favor age and experience over vitality and freshness of vision. I believe in finding ways to balance the two. That’s the kind of ship I’ll be running. Am I a visionary? That’s for others, and the annals of history, to decide.”
“Marvelous, dahling!” rasped Jacinta, scribbling away. “I assume I can quote you on that?”
Cheng Li nodded, winking at Connor. He grinned back. Her words in support of youth seemed a good omen for their pending conversation.
“And this,” said Cheng Li, pushing open a pair of simple but elegant wooden doors, “is the captain’s cabin!”
Jacinta Slawter clapped her hands. “Bravo! Oh, bravissimo, Mistress Li.”
“Fabalous!” agreed Fabrizio, diving fearlessly onto the floor and snapping away at an unusual angle.
“Wow!” Connor said, following them into the cabin and noting the generous-sized windows on both sides. Sunlight filtered in through gauze blinds, sending a soft light across the blond wood floorboards.
“An inviting room,” murmured Jacinta Slawter, scribbling away, “beautifully designed, simply but elegantly furnished.”
It was exactly the sort of cabin Connor could envision for himself one day. Given that it was the captain’s cabin, it was actually pretty low-key. Yes, it was definitely larger than the cabins allocated to the other senior personnel, but for what seemed largely functional reasons: to accommodate a meeting table and chairs, plus Cheng Li’s many regimented shelves of books. There didn’t seem to be a volume on pirate history that she didn’t own. Nevertheless, the cabin was not, like Molucco Wrathe’s, a vast temple to the captain’s insatiable appetite for treasure and excess. This felt altogether more pragmatic and businesslike.
The room was dominated by a large painting of an athletic male pirate, that hung behind Cheng Li’s desk.
“Chang Ko Li,” droned Jacinta Slawter. “I don’t believe I’ve seen this portrait before. Fascinating style, if perhaps a little naïf? Who’s the artist?”
“I painted it myself,” Cheng Li answered. “I was nine years old.”
“Too mahvelous! Fabrizio, we must get some shots in front of this. Just Cheng Li and her father, I think. Nice and tight.”
“Fabalous!” Fabrizio nodded, whirring off the shots.
“And that’s a wrap!” declared Jacinta Slawter.
“Can I offer you a drink before you go?” Cheng Li asked.
Jacinta Slawter glanced at her platinum wristwatch. “Actually, no. I have cocktails with John Kuo at seven-thirty, and I must dash back home first to change outfits. The loyal readers of Ship Shape would be devastated to see me in the same fashion twice!”
Cheng Li nodded. “Well, thank you so much for coming to see me.”
“No, thank you!” said Jacinta Slawter. “This will make a sensational spread.” She shook Cheng Li’s hand, then turned and gave Connor something approaching a smile. “A pleasure to have met you,” she said.
Connor grinned and extended his hand. Jacinta Slawter gazed at it, then trembled slightly and turned, looping her arm around one of Fabrizio’s tree-trunk biceps. “Come on, dahling! Walk me to my launch. I’m desperate to hear all the latest goss.”
With that, the editor at large and her daredevil photographer exited the captain’s cabin.
Cheng Li waited until their footsteps receded along the corridor. “Well, that wasn’t quite as grueling as it might have been,” she said. Smiling at Connor, she gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk, then turned and pressed a buzzer. At once, a section of the wall parted and a small but well-stocked bar shot forward.
Cheng Li shook her head. “Seems unnecessarily flashy to me, but the architect was very insistent. Would you like something to drink?”
“Some water would be great,” Connor said.
“Just water?” said Cheng Li. “It’s not much to toast the return of an old comrade and a good friend.”
Connor smiled at her words. “Water is just fine,” he said. “And I was hoping we might make a slightly different toast.”
“Really?” Cheng Li’s right eyebrow darted up in the shape of an inverted check mark as she poured water into two glasses. “Go on,” she said, sliding one glass toward him.
Connor raised his glass. “To new captains, new beginnings, and”—he paused and took a breath—“new comrades.” He watched carefully for her response. His heart was hammering beneath his sweat-soaked shirt.
“A nice toast.” Cheng Li lifted her glass.
Connor found he was trembling. Drops of water spilled onto the pristine wooden desktop.
“Sorry!” he said, lifting his hand to mop up the water.
“No problem,” Cheng Li said, a cloth already in her hand. “My, my, Connor Tempest. Jumpy much?” Grinning, she mopped up the spill. “Anyone would think your very life and happiness depended upon this meeting.”
“In a way it does,” he said. He clearly wasn’t going to pull off anything approaching nonchalance, so he might as well be straight with her. “You know why I’m here,” he said. “When we last met you said that if I talked to Captain Wrathe, and if he agreed to release me from his articles, that you’d consider having me join your crew.”
Cheng Li set down her glass and scrutinized Connor intently. “So you went to talk to Captain Wrathe?”
“Yes,” he said. “I told him how I felt. That I needed to leave the Diablo. And that I wanted to join your crew.”
Cheng Li’s almond eyes widened. “I’m sure he was just thrilled to hear t
hat.”
Connor smiled. “Not exactly. He accused you of inciting me to betray him, but I told him, in no uncertain terms that it was my choice and mine alone.”
This time Cheng Li said nothing, but he could tell from her silence that he had her complete attention and perhaps also her respect. “Anyway, the long and the short of it is that he has released me from my articles. And so I’ve come to ask you formally if you’ll consider having me join your crew.”
His pitch finished, he looked up at the grand painting of Chang Ko Li. What word had Jacinta Slawter used to describe the painting? Naïf? Connor wasn’t sure what that meant, but from her tone he didn’t think it was flattering. From his perspective, he thought it was a very impressive painting, and it was incredible to think that Cheng Li had been just nine years old when she had painted it. The famous pirate captain seemed almost to be gazing out of the portrait at him, his expression undeniably ferocious, but at the same time somewhat amused. Connor glanced back at Cheng Li, finding that she, too, was smiling.
“I’d be delighted to have you join my crew,” she said. “You’re hired!”
Connor was speechless. Somehow he hadn’t expected it to be this easy. “That’s great!” he said, grinning. “I’ll do you proud, I promise.”
“I know you will, Connor. It’s a shame, however, that you gave me the abbreviated version of your encounter with Molucco. According to my sources, he burned your articles in front of you and nearly set fire to himself and poor Scrimshaw into the bargain!”
“You knew?” Connor said. But of course she knew! She had eyes in the back of her head and tentacles of sources stretching throughout the pirate world.
“Well, now that you’re part of the crew, perhaps you’d like to meet your comrades?” Cheng Li said. “I’ve arranged to see some of them over at Ma Kettle’s this evening. I have a few pieces of business to finish up here, then we can head over together.”
Connor nodded. “I’d like that very much.” He felt the doors of the old, familiar pirate world opening up again. Only it was better this time. This time, he had made a conscious choice about which crew he was joining. He might have had his doubts about Cheng Li in the past, but they were long gone. She was going to be a great captain and a superb mentor.
“Why don’t you have another look around while I go over these papers?” Cheng Li said, slipping on a pair of half-glasses. “They’re just for reading the fine print,” she said, catching Connor’s surprised expression. “Now off you go. Pick out a cabin for yourself.”
Connor rose to his feet but lingered in front of her desk. “I already know which cabin I’d like.”
Cheng Li stared up at him, her glasses balanced on the tip of her delicate nose. “I’m listening.”
“The one marked Deputy Captain,” he said. It was aiming high, he knew, but so far today, the universe had been good to him. Why not ask it for just one more thing?
Cheng Li slipped off her glasses but kept her eyes focused on him. “I’m afraid, Connor, that the position of deputy is already taken.”
He could feel the flush flooding his face. “I knew it,” he said. “I knew I should have gotten back here sooner!”
“No,” she said, quietly but firmly. “No. On this occasion, it wasn’t a question of timing. You’re a good pirate, Connor. You learn fast and you’re a team player. Your courage is unquestionable, and your sword skills are very fine indeed. But your talent is raw and your experience limited. Doubtless, you have an amazing career ahead of you, but you’re not there yet.”
Given how sharp she could be, as sharp as her twin katana blades, Cheng Li had chosen her words with care. Connor couldn’t argue with the sentiments, either. She had made an accurate assessment of his abilities at this point. She wasn’t saying that he’d never make the grade, only that it was too soon. There and then, he committed himself to learning everything he could from her, and from whomever she had chosen as her deputy.
“You’re disappointed,” Cheng Li said.
“Yes.” There was no point in denying it. “But I understand your reasoning. And I want you to know that I’ll support you and your deputy one hundred percent. I’m looking forward to meeting him… or is it her?”
Cheng Li smiled once more. “You’ve already met. In fact, you know each other quite well.” She paused. “Connor, my deputy captain is Jacoby Blunt.”
12
WHEN SALLY MET DEXTER
Grace stood in the crisp morning light, looking down the mountainside. She had already been up more than an hour. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was strong and the sky was clear. Far below, the ocean glittered as if sequins had been thrown into the pool of turquoise. It gave Grace a fresh sense of optimism about the future. It also gave her an idea. Deciding not to waste a moment, she walked quickly back into the internal compound and made her way to Mosh Zu’s chamber.
Grace wondered if Mosh Zu ever slept because, of all the Vampirates, he alone seemed to be around and active during both the nighttime and the day. Perhaps this was because he was currently on crisis alert, given the condition of the fading souls, including her own mother. Then again, Mosh Zu was such a master of energy that perhaps he simply needed very little sleep.
At the door of Mosh Zu’s meditation room she knocked softly—loud enough to alert the guru if he was awake but not so loud as to disturb him if he was resting. She was delighted to hear him cheerily cry, “Come in!”
As she entered, he nodded and smiled warmly at her. “Hello, Grace. How are you today?”
“Very well,” she said. “I’ve just been outside. It’s a lovely morning. The sun is so strong already! The view down the mountain is incredible!”
Mosh Zu smiled to see her in such good spirits.
“I wonder,” Grace said, “it’s so beautiful outside. Do you think it would be all right to take my mother out?”
Mosh Zu considered her request for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea. It will be good for Sally to feel the sun on her skin once more.”
Grace was elated. “I’m so pleased. I thought I should check with you first, but I really want to show her the gardens and everything.” Already she was back at the door, eager not to lose a moment. But suddenly, a dark thought crossed her mind, and her earlier, fragile optimism slipped away.
Mosh Zu saw her face drop and walked swiftly over to her. “Grace, you’re thinking about our previous discussions, aren’t you?”
She nodded. As hard as she tried to put it out of her mind, she couldn’t escape the brutal truth that she and her mother were already on borrowed time.
Mosh Zu looked her in the eyes. “Grace, I have only one piece of advice for you. Try to see this time with your mother as a gift.” He paused, smiling. “Not just for you but also for her.”
Grace sighed. He was right—she knew he was. She walked soberly across from the guru’s quarters to Sally’s room, her thoughts becoming calmer with every step.
“Mother,” she said, knocking on the door. “It’s Grace. May I come in?”
“Yes, of course, Grace.” The voice was faint but cheerful. Grace pushed open the door.
Sally was sitting on the bed, propped up against a heap of pillows. Something about her mother’s manner alerted Grace to the fact that they were not alone. She turned and saw Lorcan sitting on a chair by the side of her mother’s bed.
“Good morning!” he said.
Grace could not disguise her surprise to find Lorcan there. It was so unusual for him to be up and about at this time. She had the feeling she had interrupted the two of them, somehow. “Lorcan,” she found herself blurting out, “what are you doing here?”
He smiled, his blue eyes sparkling. “Catching up with a very dear old friend.”
“Less of the old, thank you!” said Sally, grinning nevertheless. “I’d lob one of these pillows at you if I had the strength! But don’t be lulled into a false sense of security. Reinforcements have arrived!” She grinned at Grace. �
��Haven’t they, my darling?”
“Yes,” answered Grace, sitting down on the bed, delighted to see spirits. She turned back to Lorcan. “So you had better be on your best behavior!”
“All right, you win!” he said, producing a white handkerchief from his pocket and waving it in surrender.
Grace laughed. Her initial discomfort had evaporated. It was good being here with Lorcan and Sally. She felt a sense of completeness that had been missing from her life for too long.
“Look at the two of you,” Lorcan said. “A perfect pair. Your hair, your eyes, that same sprinkling of freckles, the identical way your noses wrinkle when you smile. You’re a complete match!”
“Yes,” Sally agreed, turning Grace’s face gently toward her. “When I look at you, my darling, it’s like I’m gazing into a magic mirror. I see myself at your age.” She sighed. “I want so much for you to be happy and safe and cared for. After I’m… After I’m…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
Lorcan stood up and approached the bed. He reached out his arms and enfolded mother and daughter. “Grace will be well looked after, Sally. Always. Have no fear of that.” He planted a kiss first on Sally’s head, then Grace’s. Then he tenderly released them both and stepped back toward the door. “I’d better go,” he said. “I’ve been neglectful of my duties, though it has been lovely catching up like this. Besides, I think you two deserve some time alone together.”
“Yes,” agreed Sally with a nod.
“I’ll see you both later,” Lorcan said, smiling as he made his exit.
As the door closed behind him, Grace turned back to Sally. “I thought we might go out into the gardens, Mother. It’s a beautiful sunny day. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” said Sally. “Yes, Grace, I should like that very much.” The mere idea seemed to give her a fresh pulse of energy. She eased herself up against the headboard and swung her feet down onto the floor. Grace watched as Sally slipped on her shoes and fastened her cardigan around her. It had a pattern of shells and coral lightly embroidered in pale blue on white, with tiny mother-of-pearl buttons.
Black Heart Page 8