“Let me guess,” Nikolai said when he saw her. “You just tried to talk to Alexi?”
“Shut up, Nikolai.” Anya climbed the stairs to the main deck.
Zoya slid her goggles to the top of her head. She wiped sweat from her brow and turned to follow Tonia out of the boiler room. The engines whirred as they slowed to idle.
Zoya stopped in her cabin to grab her coat and gloves before climbing the stairs to the main deck.
“I wonder where we are exactly,” Lilia said as Zoya appeared. The Ocean's Legend was docked at a small town. It was filled with buildings made of brick and stone and had well-kept cobblestone streets. A heavy, wet snow fell, melting as soon as it touched the ground.
“I have no idea,” Zoya replied.
Demyan turned to them, whispering. “Is this our chance? Is this where we, you know…” He looked around to make sure none of the pirates was within earshot.
“We should come up with a plan,” Zoya said. “And quickly. Who knows when we'll get another chance, and if we're caught…”
“This looks like as good a town as any,” Anya said. “It actually looks pretty well-to-do.”
“This doesn't seem like a town that would welcome pirates,” Zoya said, eying the crew.
“That's why we’re not staying long,” Pavel said, appearing next to them. “Nanowrinsk is a very prosperous town and treats pirates less kindly than towns farther into the Olen Sea. We need to find a place to sell as many of our goods as we can and stock up on supplies before we raise any serious suspicions.”
Just then, Captain Sokoll stepped out of his cabin. He wore a splendid blue jacket with gold fringe and a matching captain's hat.
“If I didn't know any better,” Anya said, “I'd say he looked like a real captain.”
“Don't you say that to him,” Pavel said. “He'll be quick to correct that he is a real captain.”
Captain Sokoll barked orders to his crew, who then retrieved goods from below deck. When he approached the five friends, a big smile spread across his face.
“You five will help watch the ship! Guard it and help us load and unload throughout the day. Fyodr will secure the pilot house, so don't get any ideas of running off with my ship!” He let out a hearty laugh, and the five friends laughed along awkwardly. “Samuil and Ira will keep watch above deck. Alexi will also stay on the ship. He shouldn't bother you though. Seems he's decided to stay moping below deck.”
“We have the worst luck,” Lilia grumbled as the pirates disembarked.
“No, not the worst” Zoya said. “We just have to wait until the crew goes into town. As for Fyodr, Samuil, and Ira, I’m sure we can devise a distraction.”
Zoya gestured for her friends to follow her to their cabin. She rested on her hammock and grabbed the gadget.
“We’ll wait and listen until they leave the ship,” she said. “Then we can discuss a plan.”
As the friends sat in silence, Zoya heard a series of soft thumps in the hallway. She tucked the gadget into her coat, glad her outerwear was already bulky. Alexi appeared in the doorway. He leaned on the frame, wincing.
“You want off this ship?” he asked.
Zoya glanced around at her friends. “W-what? No, of course not.”
Alexi smirked. “You don’t need to lie. You want to escape and I want to help you.”
“We’re not going to fall for that,” Nikolai said. He turned to his friends. “It’s a trap. He wants to get us in trouble so he can watch someone else get whipped.”
“It was a mistake to bring you on this ship,” Alexi said. “It was my fault, my poor judgment. So I want to help you escape. I’ll distract Fyodr and the others.”
“Why?” Anya asked. “Why was it a mistake?”
Alexi looked at Zoya. “You still have the gadget, that ball of gears? Keep it hidden, and safe. It’s too much to explain right now, but I can’t let my father take it. Now grab your things and prepare to run.”
Alexi hobbled up to the main deck.
“Well, you heard him,” Anya said. “Let’s grab our things and go.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Nikolai said. “This is definitely a trap.”
“Nikolai, this is our chance,” Zoya said. “This is the best we can hope for.”
“It does seem a little too convenient,” Demyan said.
“I’m going,” Zoya said, lifting her suitcases. “I’m done dealing with pirates. Who’s coming with me?”
“I am,” Anya said.
“Me too.” Lilia held her suitcases and stood by the door.
Demyan sighed and picked up his bags. “Fine, me too.”
Nikolai threw his hands in the air and grabbed his things. “Don’t be angry with me when I say I told you so.”
“If you’re right, we’ll be dead,” Anya said. “So it won’t matter.”
The five friends hurried up to the main deck. As they exited the saloon, they stopped dead in their tracks.
“Hello there,” said a woman with short brown hair and a blue eye. A black patch covered her left eye. She held a knife to Alexi's throat. “It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Snezhana Krupina, née Sokoll. I'm Alexi's beloved aunt.” She patted her nephew on the shoulder.
Four men flanked Snezhana. Two were tall and obscenely muscular; one had fiery red hair, the other black. The third man had a slight build emphasized by well-tailored clothes and wore brass spectacles. The fourth man was barely a man at all. He was young, eighteen years old at the most, and lanky.
At their feet lay the bloody bodies of Fyodr, Samuil, and Ira.
Zoya drew her sword. The four men drew pistols in response.
“Now, let's not make this messy,” Snezhana cooed. “You'll all be coming with me on my ship, the Hell's Jewel. I think you'll find it's a much more impressive ship than my brother's.” She gestured across the docks, to another sidewheel steamship that was notably larger than the Ocean’s Legend. It had three masts and two smoke stacks, and the paddle wheels looked almost twice as large as the ones on Captain Sokoll’s ship.
Not sure what other option they had, Zoya sheathed her sword. Her friends did the same.
“See? Nice and simple,” Snezhana said. “And so nice of you to grab your things already! Boys, won't you lead our guests back to my ship? And relieve them of those pesky swords.” She looked at Alexi. “I’ve missed you, nephew. We have so much catching up to do once you’re on my ship.”
Snezhana’s men surrounded the group and held out their hands. Zoya and her friends handed over their swords. The tall muscular men grabbed suitcases, while the other two kept their pistols drawn. Snezhana lowered the knife from Alexi’s throat and pushed him toward the other hostages. Then, they dutifully followed her onto the Hell's Jewel.
“Show them where they'll be staying, won't you?” Snezhana said once they were on board. Her crew brought them below deck and past the boiler room. They turned the corner and entered a cramped room which contained three cells, one on each wall, surrounded by iron bars.
“You're putting us in the brig?” Alexi asked, his face red.
“Captain's orders,” said the bespectacled man.
“Gotfrid, come now,” Alexi said. “My aunt shouldn't treat me like this.” Gotfrid didn't respond, and simply pushed the friends into cells. Nikolai and Demyan were shoved to the left, Zoya, Anya, and Lilia to the right. Alexi was put into the center cell by himself. Without another word, Snezhana's crew left the room.
“I knew it was a trap,” Nikolai said.
“Not one I set,” Alexi replied. “Not one I saw coming.”
Nikolai glared at him.
“Sorry about the accommodations,” Snezhana said as she entered the room. “Space is tight, you understand.”
“What is this about, Snezhana?” Alexi demanded boldly. “Shouldn't we have a happy reunion? I thought you were—”
“Dead? Well, your father can't always get what he wants.”
“No, he can't,” Alexi said. “What is this
, a lesson for him?”
“Of sorts,” Snezhana said. “Now, Alexi, let's not be rude. You haven't introduced your friends to me.”
“We're not his friends,” Nikolai said. Demyan jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.
“Careful,” Demyan said, watching Snezhana out of the corner of his eye. Snezhana laughed.
“I see you still need to work on your people skills, Alexi,” Snezhana said. She turned to Nikolai and Demyan. “What are your names, boys?” They introduced themselves curtly. Snezhana turned to the girls and posed the same question.
“Lilia.”
“Anya.”
“Zoya.”
“That's some interesting hair you've got, Zoya,” Snezhana said.
“I hear that a lot,” Zoya said, raising an eyebrow.
“Runs in your family, I bet?” Snezhana asked. Zoya eyed her suspiciously.
“Yes,” she said. “It does.”
Snezhana looked back toward Alexi. “Very interesting.”
“We'll speak again soon.” She left, closing the door behind her.
“Gotfrid!” Snezhana called as she returned to the main deck of the Hell's Jewel. “Igor! Pyotr! Adam!” The four men marched to her side.
“We'll be setting sail for a new destination,” Snezhana told her men. “A city we haven't dared venture to for a long while. A city especially dangerous for pirates. But the time has finally come. So, we'll need to find someone with more extensive and precise navigational knowledge. No offense, Igor.”
“None taken, Captain,” Igor replied. He had pale green eyes and red hair that matched his fiery personality. Since the true navigator of the Hell's Jewel perished in a battle with a Morozhian warship, Igor had taken over navigation. Snezhana’s ship hence had gone in circles, as she learned Igor's eye for landmarks was not particularly keen.
“We need someone who can find a covert way into Mirgorod,” Snezhana said. “I’ve spent plenty of time in jail and don’t intend on returning.”
“You want us to get you a new navigator?” Adam asked. He was as large as Igor. His slick black hair was showing signs of gray, and his eyes were small and narrow.
“Yes, quickly,” Snezhana replied.
“Aye, Captain,” Gotfrid said with a small bow. The men walked toward the dock, then Pyotr turned around. He was the youngest of the four men, with light blond hair and sea green eyes.
“Captain, where are we going?” he asked. Snezhana smiled.
“We're going to Mirgorod.”
Snezhana's crew strolled down the quaint streets of Nanowrinsk, reading the signs on each of the doors.
“Blacksmith. Jeweler. Cafe. Tailor.”
“Pyotr,” Adam growled. “Shut up.” The boy blushed and looked down. Igor patted him on the back.
“Ah, here we go,” Gotfrid said, stopping in front of a dark wooden door. “Cartographer.”
“We need a navigator,” Adam replied. “Not someone who makes carts.” Gotfrid rolled his eyes and opened the door.
The shop was filled with maps and charts. Several wooden desks were covered in telescopes, astrolabes, and compasses. A huge globe sat in the center of the room with continents outlined in gold.
“All this will fetch a pretty penny,” Igor said, looking around greedily.
“We are here for one specific purpose,” Gotfrid replied. “We need to get our navigator and get out of here quickly and inconspicuously.”
“Can I help you?” a man asked, entering the room from a back office. He had golden tan skin, and short, well-kept black hair. His mouth was framed by a neat mustache and goatee. Small, brass glasses balanced on his nose.
“I should hope so,” Gotfrid said with a polite smile. “You see, our crew is hoping to get to Mirgorod. We haven't been out that way for a long while, so we are in need of a navigator.”
“Ah, I'm sorry,” the cartographer replied. “I don't do navigation work anymore. I've retired to cartography. I'm settling down, you see.”
“You must have found a woman,” Gotfrid said.
“Yes, I have. Oh, please excuse my manners. My name is Yeremiy Robertov. Now, there is a young man who works for me who has been itching to get on a ship. He's on a holiday right now, but will be back in two days’ time.”
“I'm afraid that won't work for us,” Gotfrid said. “We're in a bit of a hurry.” Adam and Igor stepped toward Yeremiy, smirking. Then they grabbed him by the arms and dragged him into his back office.
“Hey! What's this about?”
Gotfrid and Pyotr followed into the office, closing the door behind them. Adam and Igor held Yeremiy restrained against a wall filled with books.
“You can't just barge into my place of work like this!” Yeremiy shouted, struggling.
Gotfrid looked around the room, feigning confusion. “Oh, well, it seems we just did, didn't we?” Gotfrid took off his glasses and began cleaning them with a rag he pulled from his pocket. “Now, you can come with us willingly, or we can force you. It's your choice.”
Yeremiy shoved his arms back, jabbing his elbows into Adam's and Igor's abdomens then ran to his desk. He picked up a letter opener and pointed it as if it were a dagger. The pirates pulled out their pistols.
“You won't shoot me,” Yeremiy said. “You need me, for some reason, apparently. So you won't shoot me.”
“Oh, quite the contrary,” Gotfrid replied. “We only need you alive. I suppose you need your dominant arm. But what use are your legs, really?”
“You're bluffing,” Yeremiy insisted, still pointing the letter opener. Adam shot a hole in the desk inches from where Yeremiy stood. Yeremiy jumped.
“The next shot will be in your right leg,” Adam told him. Yeremiy dropped his faux dagger and lifted up his hands in surrender.
“Very good,” Gotfrid said, stepping toward him. “Now, if you'll just come with us.”
Yeremiy grabbed a potted plant from the floor and hurled it at the pirates. They stumbled back, coughing and momentarily blinded by flying dirt.
“After him!” Gotfrid shouted as Yeremiy ran out the door. The pirates ran back into the front room of the shop and looked around. The room appeared empty, and the front door was still closed. Gotfrid gestured toward the door, and Pyotr stood guard next to it.
“Up for a game of hide-and-seek, are we?” Igor shouted. “We know you're in here!”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Gotfrid said, walking around the edge of the room. “Why, we didn't even introduce ourselves! My name is Gotfrid. These are my crewmates, Adam, Igor, and Pyotr. We would be honored to have you as our new navigator.”
Igor walked by a tall, intricately carved desk that stood in the far corner, and was about to peer underneath it when Yeremiy leapt out, wielding an astrolabe. He hit Igor over the head with the device, sending the pirate sprawling to the ground. Yeremiy then made a run for the door, but was intercepted by Adam. Pyotr ran over, and he and Adam tackled Yeremiy to the ground. Pyotr grabbed the astrolabe from Yeremiy's hands and knocked Yeremiy unconscious with it.
“Are you alright, Igor?” Pyotr asked.
Igor sat up, rubbing his head. “Yeah, great,” he grumbled.
“Good. Now, let's bring our new friend back to the ship.”
“Ok, what is going on?” Zoya demanded looking at Alexi. Alexi shrugged.
“My aunt decided to kidnap us,” he said. “She and my father have a complicated relationship.”
“But what about me?” Zoya asked, her voice getting frantic. “Why did she seem interested in me? Why are you concerned about my grandmother's heirloom? You need to start explaining right now!” Lilia put her arms around Zoya.
“You have no idea what you're dealing with.” Alexi laughed, shaking his head.
“So enlighten us!” Demyan said.
Anya walked over to the side of the cell and looked Alexi in the eye. “You need to stop lying,” she said softly. “Whatever you were trying to hide from us, whatever you thought you were protecting, you need t
o let us in.”
Alexi looked at Anya, silent, then nodded.
“Do you have the gadget?” he asked Zoya.
“Yes.” Zoya glanced at the door, then pulled the gadget out of her coat. It was still wrapped in a shirt.
“Let me see it,” Alexi said.
“Why?” Demyan asked.
“Because I need to see if it's really what I think it is,” Alexi responded, annoyed.
Hesitantly, Zoya unwrapped the gadget and walked toward the side of her cell. Alexi reached toward it.
“No,” Zoya said. “You can look at it, but I am not handing it over.”
“Fine,” Alexi replied, leaning down to look at the gadget. After a moment, he said, “It looks so insignificant. But that's it, alright.”
“That's what?” Zoya asked. “What is it?”
“I don't remember what it's really called,” Alexi said. “Usually it's just referred to as the gadget or the device. But both my father and my aunt have been hunting it for as long as I can remember. Supposedly it holds great power. Who knows if that's really true, but they seem pretty convinced. The amount of trouble this thing has caused…”
“How did your aunt know I have it?” Zoya asked.
“He told her, probably,” Nikolai said. “This is all a setup, Zoya, don't be stupid. He just convinced you to take your gadget out. Now they know you have it, and they're going to take it from you.”
“Shut up, Nikolai,” Alexi said. “Zoya, put the gadget away. I'm not working with my aunt. I don't want anything to do with any of this.”
“You didn't answer my question,” Zoya said as she tucked the gadget into her jacket.
“It's your hair,” Alexi said. “This gadget, whatever it is, is protected by the family of the man who created it. Apparently they all have purple hair.” Zoya played with a lock of her curls.
“So then, your father knew who I was, too? But he didn't say anything?”
“He's got a hell of a poker face,” Alexi replied, leaning back on the wall and sinking to the floor. Zoya and her friends sat in contemplative silence.
“You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” Anya said at last. “So we were right. It was strange that your father's crew was being so nice to us.” She tilted her head and stared intently at Alexi. “It would have been helpful to know why.”
Grigory's Gadget Page 8