by Travis Bughi
“Noted,” Takeo replied.
“I’m glad you brought that up, Mosley,” Emily said. “I wanted to talk to you about Jabbar. To get to the point, I’d like to know why you were with him and how his army knew where to find me during the battle.”
Mosley straightened in his chains, and his eyes shifted to the floor. He stared there for a moment, as if in dreadful thought, and then looked around. His eyes fell on the door of his cell, which Emily hadn’t opened, and then he clicked his shackles against his shoulders.
“So,” he stuttered, “that’s why you haven’t freed me yet, eh love?”
Emily said nothing, but her face must have spoken for her, because Mosley sputtered and began to sob.
“Ah, by the sea, love,” Mosley begged. “I didn’t know you were going to win! Honest! What choice did I have?”
“Start from the beginning,” Emily replied sternly. “What happened after the roc?”
As Mosley’s sobs intensified, he muttered some words unintelligibly and sniffled as his nose clogged. Tears came down his cheeks, and Emily felt sorry for the pirate, looking as pitiful as he did, but she was far too much like the colossus these days to let it change her mind.
“The merfolk took me,” Mosley explained, words broken. “They stranded me on an island that wasn’t nothing more than a flat rock, left me for dead. Well, they didn’t actually leave. That damn mermaid wanted to see me suffer. All over some lousy spears and some old leviathan! I asked what happened to you, but the only thing they said was that they had saved you, whatever that meant. I knew I’d have to swim for it, and I tried once, but I couldn’t see land. They dragged me back before I could drown. Told me I was going to die there, not in the sea. Things got real bad, real quick. I wasn’t going to last.”
“What happened?” Emily asked when Mosley paused.
“I’m getting to it!” he heaved. “I convinced them that I wasn’t no good to them dead. I kept saying I’d repay them if I got to shore, that I’d learned my lesson. They’d have their spears, twice as many, to make up for my dishonesty. I swore on my own mother’s grave—told them I’d sign it in blood if they wanted me to. They just wanted the spears, though. Once I gave them something to lose, they made me swear an oath of just plain words and took me to the nearest town in Savara.”
“Did you repay them?” Takeo asked.
“Course not, you dumb, honor-bound samurai! Do I look like an idiot? I ran for it and never looked back.”
Shocking, Emily huffed.
“The next year was the longest year I’ll ever remember,” Mosley continued. “I tried to do honest work, or about as honest as one can get in Savara, but I wasn’t much cut out for it. I wasn’t about to hire on with some new pirate crew, be the lowly mop boy and bilge bucketeer, like I ain’t worth my salt. No money, no weapons, best thing I could do was steal a dagger and act like some hired mercenary. I was fortunate. Only one of the merchants who hired me actually got attacked by thieves, and I ran for it long before they could kill me. I survived is what I did.
“And then my saving grace comes, or at least I thought it was. Out of seemingly nowhere, this foreign warlord named Ichiro Katsu comes storming across Savara with an army, ambition, and a load of captured ships that need seasoned captains to sail them. His name struck a bell, and I remembered you wanting to kill his wife or some odd thing. Didn’t matter to me much, honestly. I was desperate, and so was Ichiro from what I heard. So the way I saw things, it was his lucky day, too. They don’t call me ‘Captain Mosley’ for nothing!
“So I went to present myself, and like any good pirate, I had a bit of drink beforehand. Might have hit it a tad too hard, though, cause in the middle of my speech Katsu says to haul me out and throw me in the gutters! His guards come forward and grab me, and I panic. I start shouting whatever I can to get him to let me stay, and your name pops out before I can stop myself.
“Well, let me tell you, I ain’t never seen no man’s ears perk so vividly in my life. He stands up and yells for everyone to get out of the room except me and him. He tells me I’m going to tell him everything, and judging by the look in his eye, I figured he was probably right.”
Emily folded her arms and shifted her stance. Mosley must have read something from that because he paused and looked to the ground again. He wasn’t sobbing or breathing raggedly anymore. His demeanor reminded Emily of her little brother caught causing trouble again.
“So, let me guess,” Emily spoke up. “You told him everything, and he gave you a ship to sail.”
“Not just any ship,” Mosley said and shook his head, “his ship. Said he wanted me close. He made me tell my story as detailed as I could, over and over to make sure it didn’t change. I told him everything I knew, even right down to that gunslinger brother of yours, which he was also real interested in. He kept asking about it, a lot. I thought he was doing me an honor or something until we went out to sea.”
“What happened there?”
“He revealed that he was actually a rakshasa.” Mosley shuddered. “Apparently, half the army had already heard through rumors, but no one never told me nothing. I was sick to my stomach, and I knew then why he wanted me close. Six months of fearing for my life. I swear, love. I felt like the worse kind of slave, an expendable one. I was never more happy than when that big stone hand of the colossus came barreling through the ship and pounded that beast dead. I bailed out and swam for it. I suppose you know the rest. You saved me, love. Saved me from the monster.”
Her head hung low, Emily sighed and then swallowed, nodding once. The pirate went quiet and sniffed his runny nose. Emily found herself wishing Mosley’s story had been a bit longer so that the next part of this meeting could be delayed. It didn’t take long for Mosley to realize what would happen next.
“So what’s it going to be, love?” he asked. “Am I damned to rot in this cell until I die? Or do you still have some forgiveness left for an old friend?”
“We were never friends,” Emily replied.
“You were a friend to me. At least the closest thing I ever had to one, anyway.”
“How do I know that everything you told me was true? You’ve lied before, often actually. How do I know you were reluctant to join the rakshasa? For all I know, you lied to him, too, and you two were the best of friends. That seems far more likely from what I remember. How do I know I can believe you?”
Mosley pursed his dried lips and swallowed, then looked away again, his eyes searching the cage and finding nothing of interest. The chains and shackles creaked again as he swayed.
“I suppose you don’t,” he said, “but it ain’t me that’ll have to judge. I’m just glad you all found the rakshasa dead. I told the truth about that, right? I was worth that much, wasn’t I? Hey, just so you know, love, I want to say I’m sorry. Even if you leave me, that won’t change. I’m sorry. I did you wrong from the moment I met you. I’m a liar, a cheat, like any good pirate, but I should have made an exception for you. I’m sorry, love. You don’t owe me nothing.”
It was Emily who looked away this time. Her folded arms pushed against themselves, and she squeezed her upper arms like the room had gone cold. Her dagger weighed heavy at her waist, and she dropped a hand so her fingers could touch the handle, which gave her a sense of both comfort and foreboding.
It spoke softly, yet the words were loud for an inanimate object. Death is your purpose. You were reborn through an angel’s sacrifice to deliver many to their fates.
She’d done that, not as often as Takeo, but more often than she wished to remember, even here. Not so long ago, this tower had been awash with blood—stormed with murderous intent—and here she was doing it again.
So it wasn’t the action that made her squirm. No, it was something else that felt wrong, that made her queasy, that made her open her eyes and examine that perhaps this wasn’t necessary after all.
Takeo’s words rang in her head. You can leave, you know?
I could, she answered. I could le
ave. This doesn’t feel right.
And just like that, Emily felt a bit of humanity seep back into her. The colossus and its stony heart pulled a pace back from her chest, and Emily remembered that it was an angel who let her be here. It was the angels’ vision, their legacy, she followed, and perhaps she owed them more than death.
“I,” she whispered, “I can forgive.”
Chapter 34
“I have it in me to forgive again,” Emily repeated.
Despite her soft tone, Mosley heard her words in the dungeon’s silence. His breath caught as his head rose to meet her gaze, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. Then he threw himself back to slam against the stone wall. The iron chains clinked loudly.
“You do?” he exclaimed. “You forgive me? Ah! By the sea, love! Thank you! Thank you!”
“Takeo,” Emily said. “Can you go and get the keys?”
“As you wish,” he answered.
The samurai turned to leave, but paused. He looked back, and Emily met his stare. In his dark eyes, she saw understanding and perhaps even a hint of approval. She gave a faint smile in return and watched him leave. When he was out of sight, Emily leaned against the cage opposite of Mosley and huffed.
“Oh thanks, love, truly.” The pirate smiled, tears forming in his eyes again. “I’ll never forget you, honest. I’ll never lie again! I swear it!”
“You just did.”
“I’ll never lie to you,” he corrected himself. “Once again, you’re the greatest thing that happened to me. My luck has finally changed! Yes, thank you, Emily! But eh, uh, can I ask why you didn’t have the keys already? Just curious, really.”
“I didn’t anticipate needing them,” she replied. “To be honest, Mosley, your punishment was never going to be a choice between freedom and imprisonment. It was between life and death.”
“Ack! You can’t be serious? You were gonna kill little old me? Ah, what am I saying? Course you were. I know you, lass. You’re a tough shell. I’ve met typhoons less dangerous than you. If I had known you’d had a colossus at your command, why I’d never have let you on my ship.”
“And I might not have let you speak if they hadn’t found the rakshasa. There was some serious debate that you might be Jabbar in disguise.”
Mosley balked and then laughed. Emily laughed, too, and they both looked towards the stairs. The door above opened and closed, signaling Takeo had left, and Emily drummed her fingers against her knife again. She felt awkward, unsure of what to say to Mosley after admitting she’d been moments away from killing him. Fortunately, he broke the ice between them.
“So, you weren’t going to say nothing then?” he said. “If they hadn’t found the corpse, you’d have just killed me?”
She shrugged. “I was going to ask you some questions. Things only the real Mosley would know, like what your first name is.”
“You know I don’t give that out easy.” Mosley chuckled.
“Oh yes. You wouldn’t even give it to the knights. I still don’t know why you’d risk torture over that name. It’s a fine name, honestly.”
“Ah, I suppose you’re right, lass. Ain’t nothing wrong with Alejandro.”
Emily laughed and covered her face, saying, “That’s the name you chose? Not Duarte?”
“Why would I choose that? My real name is Alejandro.”
“No, it’s not,” Emily laughed harder. “Your real name is—”
Her heart froze—she literally felt it skip a beat and then race as if to make up for lost time—and her blood went ice cold, yet her hands began to sweat. Her entire body went rigid as she turned to look at Mosley. He was still chuckling, yet the sound seemed dangerously hollow.
He realized Emily had gone silent, and when their eyes met, he stopped laughing. The jolly expression on the pirate’s face died, and one of hunger and malice took over.
Pure terror ran through her veins.
“Takeo!” she screamed and ran.
Mosley roared and ripped his hands and feet from the wall. The iron screeched as it came free of the stone, sending puffs of grey dust into the air while the chains went flying to strike against the cell bars. Free of his bindings, he leveled his shoulder and rammed the cell door, snapping it completely off its hinges to clatter against the opposite cell with a deafening clang.
Emily made it to the first step of the stairs when she heard a snarl, saw the thing leap behind her, and felt an iron grip catch her ankle. She tripped, striking the stairs face first before trying to claw and kick her way up.
“No! NO!” she screamed. “TAKEO!”
Her fingernails broke and bled as he dragged her back across the stone floor. She tried to scream again, but another hand clamped around her neck and squeezed so tight she couldn’t breathe. Gasping for air, she was forced onto her back, and the thing that looked like Mosley straddled her.
“Damn you, stupid girl!” it seethed, spit flying from its mouth. “I was so close. So, so close! You always have to ruin everything. I hate you so much. Do you know how hard it is to capture another rakshasa and force it to shapeshift into yourself? Do you know how much planning you just ruined? Alejandro! Puh! If I could, I’d torture that lying pirate to death all over again.”
Orange- and black-striped hair sprouted from the thing’s body as it grew in size, towering over Emily as she gasped and struggled for air. The hand around her throat grew claws, which pressed into her skin and drew blood. Massive teeth sprouted to fill a massive mouth, and the eyes went yellow. In a flash, Emily no longer looked at Mosley, but at a rakshasa she had more than once thought dead.
Emily yanked her knife free and plunged it into Jabbar’s leg. His grip on her throat loosened a hair’s width as he snarled and grabbed her knife with his other hand. She tried to pull free, but her strength was fading, and his was gargantuan. Jabbar pulled the knife from her hand and tossed it aside. Blood dripped from his wound, but he was no human—it began to seal up almost immediately, the blood clotting by the time it reached the white stone floor. Emily closed her eyes and reached out for the colossus.
“I won’t give you the chance,” Jabbar snarled.
Sharp claws pierced her stomach. Her eyes snapped open, and her mouth flew wide in a silent scream. No sound came out, though, it couldn’t because Jabbar’s grip was so tight, but that sensation was nothing compared to the pain of having Jabbar’s claws rip open her skin and push into her stomach.
“You always have to ruin everything,” Jabbar spat, his hand digging inside her body. “A gunslinger for a brother? I knew I had to change my plan. I was so close, too. Damn that filthy pirate. And how did you know I was coming? You aren’t human; you can’t be. I don’t know how you knew, but you did. I should have killed you the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Emily’s body shook from the agony as hot blood rushed out, a sticky wet smell touching her nose that she barely noticed over the torture in her gut. Her mouth continued to gape, the scream on her lips stifled, never to grace the air. Desperately, she closed her eyes and tried for the colossus again, but the sharp claws ripping through her organs brought her back. Tears streamed from her eyes.
“I’m going to get out of here,” Jabbar promised. “One way or another, I’m going to get out of here. I won’t let you stop me. I’ll kill Takeo first, that backstabbing traitor. Then your brothers, and your amazons, your parents, and anyone else who makes the mistake of saying they were close to you. I will savor the death of every single one of them. I’ll do it just for you, you stupid, little girl.”
Emily could hardly hear. Jabbar’s grip was so strong that the world was growing dark, fuzzy. Even the excruciating pain of having a clawed hand forcing its way up inside her rib cage had become almost bearable. As the world faded, she tried to mutter something.
“What was that?” Jabbar asked, sounding distant. “What did you say?”
His grip loosened, and Emily gasped a sliver of air.
“You’ll kill no one,” she spoke, gasping as blood trickled up h
er throat. “You die here, by my blood.”
Jabbar’s grip tightened again, forcing the blood in her throat to spurt through her lips, and then he laughed. His hand tore through her again, and she suffered another silent scream at the pain.
Don’t come yet, Takeo, she begged. Please wait.
“Everyone thinks it’s the heart I like to eat first,” Jabbar whispered to her, “but it’s actually the liver that tastes best. I’m going to save your heart as a present for Takeo. I think I’ll make him eat it, just to watch him suffer.”
Emily convulsed violently, nearly passing out from the agony as Jabbar’s clawed hands gripped something semi-solid inside of her and ripped it out. He held it up for her to see, a black-brown bulge dripping in her own red blood.
“Here’s to your legend, Emily Stout,” he said and swallowed the mass whole.
He smiled at her, watching her bleed out from the wound. She managed to control herself for a single moment, long enough to smile back.
Jabbar’s smile disappeared. He coughed and put his blood-covered hand to his chest. His look of triumph quickly changed to shock. He convulsed once, twice, and then began to shake. His hand at her throat tightened. A look of fear and disbelief washed over him.
“What?” he stuttered out, his body trembling. “What have you done? What did you . . . do . . . to me!? AH! ACK!”
Jabbar turned and retched blood and vomit onto the stone floor, coughing once more before tremors ran rampant and his strength was sapped. He twitched and then went limp, rolling off of Emily and collapsing into his own bloody vomit. He shook violently, like a vampire exposed to sunlight, gurgling black bile out of his throat to spew over his blood-caked body. He kicked, trying to scream, but succeeding only in spraying more blood, bile, and vomit into the air. He shuddered horribly, froze for a moment, and then went still.
He never moved again.
Emily watched all of this silently, lying next to him in a pool of her own blood, gasping for air and holding both hands over her wound, trying uselessly to stem the tide. She tried to roll over, to crawl up the stairs, but it hurt so badly that she collapsed, crying out and then mumbling softly while tears streamed down her cheeks.