“Hello, Mother,” said Moonshine, grinning amiably at her as he stepped over the velvet rope into the booth.
The appearance of her darling son, who seemed to grow taller and more handsome with each passing day, was just the thing to make her smile. She lifted her face for him to kiss. As he drew back from her, she saw that his long fingers were looped through a string bow connected to a brown paper package, which he swung back and forth in his hands.
Trofie nodded toward the parcel. “What’s that, min elskling? Have you been shopping?”
Moonshine smiled. “It’s a gift, Mother. For you.”
“For me? Whatever for? It’s not my birthday, or even a pirate’s name day.”
“It’s to make you feel better,” Moonshine said, extending the package toward her.
Trofie waved her excessively long sleeves in front of him. “Perhaps, min elskling, you would open it for me?”
Moonshine nodded, beaming as he began untying the string.
“Look, husband.” Trofie prodded Barbarro. “Our darling boy has brought me a gift.”
Both Barbarro and Molucco turned to watch. Moonshine untied the string and then the layer of brown paper. Inside was a square box. He opened the lid. Trofie looked down excitedly as her son carefully lifted something out from within. It was still wrapped in tissue paper, but the sprinkling of glittering powder that fell from its layers was a pleasing sight. Like silver rain.
Finally, with an emphatic gesture, Moonshine cast off the final sheet of tissue paper and revealed his gift.
Barbarro, Molucco, and Trofie all gasped in unison.
“It’s your new hand,” Moonshine announced, then added, rather unnecessarily, “I made it myself!”
There, cradled in his arms was what had started out as a shop mannequin’s hand, roughly sawn off and somewhat unevenly painted silver.
“Well? Do you like it?” Moonshine asked, his eyes glancing up at Trofie expectantly.
Trofie gulped. “I’m—I’m speechless,” she said.
“What a kind and thoughtful gesture!” Molucco boomed. “He’s a good boy, your Moonshine,” he said, nudging Barbarro.
“Look!” Moonshine held the silver hand right under his mother’s nose. “Do you see how I painted the nails?”
She stared down, registering that each of the nails had been painted with the skull-and-bones insignia. Clearly some considerable effort had gone into this. Trofie felt hot tears sting her eyes.
“Now see,” said Barbarro, “you’ve moved your mother to tears!” He massaged his wife’s shoulder. “There, there, my darling. I can see how touched you are by our son’s gift.” Through her sobs, Trofie nodded.
“Let me fit it on you,” Moonshine said excitedly. Before Trofie could protest, Moonshine lifted the voluminous folds of her sleeve and pushed them back to reveal her truncated wrist. He had fitted a thick leather belt to the wrist of his DIY hand, and now he pressed the silver hand to his mother’s wrist and gently but firmly buckled the belt. The entire Wrathe family watched with bated breath to see if it would hold. Miraculously, it seemed a perfect fit. Moonshine removed his hands, surveying his craftsmanship with great pride. Trofie glanced down at her strange new hand, which was shedding shards of silver, like premium-grade dandruff, all over the floor.
“Thank you,” she stammered. “Thank you, min elskling. I’m so very… so very…” As she spoke, she lifted the hand toward her son, but as she did so, the weight of the hand pulled the belt away from her wrist. The hand came free and shot to the floor. The thumb broke off and flew out beyond the velvet rope. More silver shards sprayed everywhere. Moonshine cried out an exceedingly colorful word and received an immediate clout from his father.
“It’s ruined!” Moonshine cried. “That took me and Transom two whole days to make!”
“Never mind, lad,” said Molucco. “It’s the thought that counts. And if you go and retrieve the thumb before someone steps on it, we can try to repair it.”
“What’s the point?” Moonshine shook his head. “I’m not stupid! I can tell she didn’t like it! She dropped it on purpose!”
“It matters not,” Barbarro boomed with fierce authority. “We’re going to recover your mother’s real hand. And soon.”
Trofie reached out to her son. “Oh, min elskling, I did like it. Of course I did!”
But Moonshine broke free from her vast phantom sleeves and kicked back the velvet rope, heading out of the VIP booth into the main bar. His head was filled with a familiar black fog of tension and anger. He wanted to punch something, or someone, very, very hard. As luck would have it, as he looked up, he saw a familiar face heading straight toward him.
For once, Moonshine’s fist was completely on target. Thwack. The advantage of surprise enabled him to land a knockout blow. Connor Tempest slumped down onto the tavern floor like a deadweight. The noise he made as he landed on the rotten wooden boards was the most enjoyable sound Moonshine had heard in ages.
“He’s coming around!” Jacoby said. “Guys, he’s coming around!” They all watched as Connor, who was laid out on a velvet chaise, opened his eyes.
“Those smelling salts never fail,” said Ma Kettle.
Jasmine grinned. “Um, I don’t think it was the smelling salts!” She nodded toward Sugar Pie. “She kissed him.”
“She did?” Ma Kettle grinned. “How did I miss that? Well, whatever it takes.”
Connor stared groggily up at them all. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Why’s that huge silver skull and crossbones spinning around like that?”
Jacoby turned to the others, his features grave with concern. “He must be worse than we thought,” he said. “He’s hallucinating.”
“No, he’s not!” said Ma, pointing to the ceiling above the dance floor. “See my new skull-and-bones glitterball? I saw it in a ballet production, and I thought, I’m having me one of those! Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
Relieved, Jacoby turned back to Connor. “Do you know who you are? Where you are?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Connor nodded. “I’m Connor Tempest, I’m in Ma Kettle’s Tavern, and that jerk Moonshine just attacked me for no reason.”
“Looks like he didn’t inflict any major damage,” Jacoby said. “That’s good news, at least.” He turned to the others. “Move back, everyone. Give Connor some room to breathe.”
Ma Kettle turned to Sugar Pie. “Let’s get these guys another round of dark and stormies. On the house!”
“Aye, aye, Ma.”
As Ma and Sugar Pie headed off, an exaggerated cough heralded the arrival of Barbarro Wrathe, closely followed by his brother, Molucco. “How is he?” he inquired.
“He’ll recover,” Cheng Li said. “No thanks to your wayward son.”
“I’m sorry,” Barbarro said. “His behavior was quite uncalled for.”
“Yes,” Cheng Li agreed, “it was. Let’s just hope there are no broken bones.”
“Come, come, Mistress Li,” piped up Molucco. “I don’t think it’s as serious as all that.”
Cheng Li drew herself up to her full height, fixing Molucco with her dark, almond-shaped eyes. “You may be somewhat lax in treating assaults on members of your crew, Captain Wrathe, but I take these matters very seriously.”
Molucco waved his hand dismissively. “It’s horseplay,” he said. “Connor was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Moonshine has a lot on his mind right now. We all do. I assume that you’ve heard about the attack on the Typhon? By the Vampirates?”
“Yes.” Cheng Li’s tone was more circumspect. “Even so.”
Molucco clearly thought he’d now gained the upper hand and proceeded with the subtletly of a steamroller. “I think you’ll understand how this puts things into sharper perspective. We must all focus now on addressing the Vampirate threat.” He paused. “To which end, we’d like a word with young Mr. Tempest about the Vampirates. I seem to remember he has some knowledge and experience of them.”
Molucco pushed past Jacoby and
Jasmine to clear his path toward Connor, who was now sitting upright on the chaise longue but still looked somewhat dazed.
“Excuse me, Captain Wrathe,” Cheng Li said, stepping protectively in front of Connor. “But what on the oceans do you think you are doing?”
Molucco frowned. “I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear. We wish to consult Connor about the Vampirates.”
Cheng Li rested her hands on her hips. “I’ve noted your request,” she said. “But now is not the appropriate time.”
“I’m sorry…” Molucco began, sounding very far from being sorry.
Cheng Li continued unabashed. “You appear to be under the illusion that Connor is still part of your crew. He isn’t. Nor, for that matter, am I. Connor is under my command now. And therefore, it is I who will decide when and if you can talk to him.”
“This is outrageous!” Barbarro glared down at Cheng Li over his brother’s shoulder.
“Hardly more outrageous than a random assault on one pirate crew member by another. Why, I’ve a mind to file a report with Commodore Kuo and the Pirate Federation. It would be another strike against Moonshine’s name.”
“Don’t threaten us, Mistress Li,” blustered Molucco. “File any report you care to. We will have our interview with Mr. Tempest.”
“Perhaps you will,” Cheng Li said. “But not here and not tonight.” She folded her arms. “Make an appointment!”
Molucco held her intent gaze for a good few moments, then turned and marched off, his angry feet reverberating along the floorboards. Barbarro followed, close at heel.
“Go, Captain!” said Jacoby. He and the others all turned to Cheng Li.
She nodded at them soberly. “I want you to understand something,” she said. “I’m not on some kind of power trip here. You’ve all signed up to my articles, but in return I vowed to look after each and every one of you. And that’s exactly what I intend to do once I become captain in a few days’ time.”
14
DEADLOCK
Stukeley knocked on the door of the captain’s cabin.
“Come,” called Sidorio from within.
Stukeley pushed open the door and stepped inside, closely followed by Johnny.
Sidorio nodded at his lieutenants. “Are we on course as planned?”
“Yes, Captain,” Stukeley nodded. “We should arrive at the bay very soon.”
“Excellent,” Sidorio said. “Now we’ll find out who’s been playing games with us and bring this matter to a close.”
“Yes, Captain,” Stukeley said once more. “But before we arrive in the bay, Johnny and I have been doing some thinking, which we’d like to share with you.”
Sidorio raised an eyebrow. “All right,” he said. “Start talking.”
Stukeley nodded. “We think it’s time to get a bit more organized, more regimented.”
Johnny nodded. “We’ve expanded so fast,” he said, turning to Sidorio. “We have, what, two hundred, three hundred on the crew now?”
Sidorio waved his arm dismissively. “We’ll have five hundred by the end of the month. A thousand next…”
“Exactly!” Stukeley said. “That’s our point. If we’re going to grow that fast, we need to get organized. We’ll need more ships, for starters.”
Sidorio shrugged. “So we’ll get more ships. Starting with the one we’re taking tonight. We’ll build a fleet.”
“Great idea,” Stukeley said. “And each ship will need a captain.”
“Sure, sure.” Sidorio’s attention was fading.
Stukeley knew the captain’s thoughts were elsewhere, but he forged on. “But not just a captain. We need a more regimented command structure on each ship.”
Sidorio laughed. “Next you’ll be suggesting that we have a crew of donors and a weekly Feast Night!”
“No!” Stukeley said. “No, I’d never suggest that. We don’t need to replicate the ways of the Nocturne.”
“Dead straight,” said Sidorio firmly. “That’s not how things are going to be run around here. Not in my army.” He nodded at Johnny. “What do you call it, Stetson?”
“El ejército de la noche!” repeated Johnny.
“Very poetic!” Sidorio said, with a grin.
Stukeley stood up. “Captain, I’m not suggesting that we set things up remotely like the Nocturne. You’re originally from Roman times, right?”
This brought Sidorio’s attention instantly back. “Roman times, yes.”
“Well,” continued Stukeley, “I’ve been doing some research, see. Into the Roman army and its command structure. Did you know that the Roman army had—”
Sidorio waved his hands dismissively. “Believe me, I know all there is to know about the Roman army.”
“So what do you think?” Stukeley pressed on patiently. “About setting up our ships—ahem, your ships—along the lines of a Roman legion?”
“Hmm,” Sidorio said. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.” It was clear to Stukeley that his window of opportunity had closed. “Let’s go up on deck,” said the captain. “I have a feeling we’re getting close to our destination.”
Stukeley nodded. He had done his best.
“There’s the ship,” Jessamy said, lowering her sunglasses.
“Oh, yes,” said Camille. “Time to go and meet our boys.”
“For the last time,” Jessamy said sadly, her mouth turned down.
“That’s what the captain said,” agreed Camille. “I confess, I’m going to miss them. They’re such pretty playthings.” She smiled at her companion.
The two women waited on the cliffs as the crew of the Blood Captain gathered on the sand. They watched as Sidorio gave the command “Go feast!” All but two of the Vampirates raced off into the town—the town already decimated by Lady Lockwood and her crew.
As Johnny and Stukeley walked toward the dunes, Jessamy and Camille went to meet their prey.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Jessamy called to Johnny and Stukeley. She had taken off her shoes in order to skim down the side of the dune. Camille followed in her wake.
“Hola!” Johnny called, smiling and walking over. “Where did you two spring from?”
“We were just up on the cliffs, taking in the night air,” Camille said. “How about you?”
“We just came ashore from our ship,” Johnny said, pointing to the prison hulk out in the waters of the bay.
“So,” Jessamy said, smiling at Stukeley, “what brings you gentlemen into town tonight?”
Stukeley shrugged. “We’ve come to let off some steam. You know how it is.”
Jessamy nodded.
“What about you?” Stukeley asked. “Do you live here, or are you visitors, too?”
The women glanced at each other. Then Jessamy spoke again. “Visitors,” she said.
“Hey,” said Johnny. “How come you’re wearing sunglasses? It’s pitch-black out here!”
The women smiled once more. Then they both spoke at once. “Fashion, darling!” They smiled at their companions.
“Take off your glasses!”
The smiles froze on the women’s faces. Neither Johnny nor Stukeley had spoken.
“I said, take off your glasses!” The voice became more forceful.
Camille turned to Jessamy for guidance. They glanced around.
Sidorio stood behind them, his arms folded. “Do I have to ask you a third time?” he said. “Take. Off. Your. Glasses.”
As he walked down the dunes, the women removed their sunglasses. They stared at the men, their black heart tattoos revealed.
“Very eye-catching,” Sidorio said, coming to a standstill between his two lieutenants. “No wonder you’ve managed to entrance these two night after night.” He nodded.
“Who are you?” Jessamy asked. In spite of Sidorio’s brooding presence, she did not seem perturbed.
“I’ll be asking the questions around here,” Sidorio said. “And we’ll start by hearing who both of you are and which ship you hail from.”
He
stared at them. The women stared back. For a time, there was a deadlock between them. Then Sidorio spoke once more. “You’ve been having a little bit of fun with my lads these past few nights, haven’t you? Pumping them for information about where we’re heading next and then working some magic to make them forget they ever met you.” He paused. “That’s right, isn’t it?”
Jessamy placed her hands on her hips defiantly. “Perhaps it is right, sir.”
“At last we’re getting somewhere,” Sidorio said. “Now which ship do you come from?”
Jessamy looked him directly in the eye. “I’m not authorized to share that information with you,” she said.
Sidorio frowned. “Not authorized?” He stepped closer. “Not authorized? You might want to rethink that. Fast.”
But Jessamy shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Loose lips sink ships.”
“What?” Sidorio stared at her blankly.
Once more, there was a standoff.
“All right,” Sidorio said. “I gave you the opportunity to do this the easy way. But there are other options.” He turned to his lieutenants. “Bring them to the ship,” he commanded, turning and walking off toward the water.
Johnny and Stukeley stepped forward. “Come with us, little ladies,” said Johnny.
Jessamy looked at them both disparagingly. “We’ve overpowered you three times before,” she said. “What makes you think tonight will be any different?”
“Yes.” Camille nodded. “And, by the way, sir, that ‘little lady’ spiel grows tired really quickly.”
The Vampirates squared up to each other. They all had fire burning in their eyes. This time it was not hunger for blood that drove them on but the need to do battle.
Black Heart Page 10