That seemed to be the last of them, at least for now. Looking around with trepidation in case any more of the undead decided to burst out of the scenery and cause trouble, Larinna staggered over to the others and placed one hand against the rocky wall to steady herself. “What in the seven hells were those?” she hissed accusingly, glowering at her crewmates as if she held them responsible.
“Skeletons,” Ned replied. “It’s what’s inside your arms and legs and things,” he added helpfully.
“I know what skeletons are, Ned!” she snapped. “I also know that dead bodies don’t just randomly decide to get up and go for a stroll.”
“Not all of them, that’s true.” Adelheid was smirking, clearly amused at seeing the normally unflappable Larinna caught off-balance. “But you soon learn that on the Sea of Thieves, every rule can have its exceptions.”
“And you didn’t think it was wise to tell me there was a possibility we might bump into the dearly departed during our voyage before we set sail?” Larinna was feeling more focused now, channeling her uncertainty into the righteous fury of someone who has been left out and is now ensuring there’s hell to pay.
Adelheid shrugged. “I assumed you knew,” she replied blithely, before turning and continuing up the winding path that led to the summit of the ancient fort.
“I assumed you did not,” Faizel interjected, falling into step alongside Larinna and grinning widely. “But I thought it would be funnier if you found out like this.”
“Ow.” Larinna replied, curtly. “My sides.”
Faizel, at least, seemed happy to bring Larinna up to speed now that the crew had had their fun at her expense. “It is true that creatures like those are quite common in the wilder reaches of the world,” he explained as they climbed. “It is fair to say that not every pile of bones is going to leap up and attack you, but it is better to be cautious rather than paranoid, yes? And surely you have heard tales of the undead?”
“Well, yes,” Larinna admitted. “But only tales. Ghost stories you tell kids to make them shut up and go to sleep. Legends.”
Faizel chuckled at that. “Hah! Out here, you will soon learn that many of the old legends are true. I did say you had strange things to look forward to.”
“Well next time, warn me if those strange things are going to try and hack my limbs off,” Larinna said sourly. “Really, though, skeletons? How does that work? Bodies need—” she floundered, teetering on the brink of her biological expertise, “blood, and a brain, and things. How can they even move around?”
Faizel shrugged. “I have never asked them.” He caught her expression, and continued. “Some say that lost souls of long-dead pirates somehow find their way back to this world. Others suspect necromancy. Perhaps one day people will come with their contraptions and their microscopes and find out the truth and then the world will be just a little bit more ordinary, yes?” He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “For now there is much we do not understand, and I like that very much indeed.”
They continued to climb, the massive wooden stakes dropping away and the rough wooden bridges becoming narrower and more treacherous as they approached the summit of the rock spire around which the fort had been constructed. They were almost to the peak when a second wave of skeletons attacked, lurching forward out of shadowy alcoves with a loud hiss that was returned from on high.
There were many more of them this time, but now Larinna knew what to expect and was keen to make up for her earlier hesitation. She fought savagely, hacking and slashing at any bony body she could reach, seeing no need to exercise restraint as she might have done against a human opponent.
At one point, she gazed up and her eyes widened, for one of the skeletons had somehow managed to locate an old rifle, and its bony fingers were fumbling with the trigger. Larinna was able to hurtle across the distance between them and snatch the weapon away just in time, delivering four savage strikes with her blade that saw her foe collapsing into bone and dust. That seemed to be the fate of any undead whose body had been sufficiently damaged, she was realizing, as if whatever was reanimating the corpses could no longer hold them together.
She spotted Adelheid leaping nimbly from rock to rock, fighting a gaunt figure who, while certainly a skeleton like the others, seemed far more . . . intelligent, she supposed was the right word. He was larger, too, or at least seemed more imposing, for he donned a great brown cape and an old-fashioned tricorn hat.
It turned to deliver a blow that fell just short of cutting Adelheid down halfway through her jump, giving Larinna a glimpse of dull gray metal on its face. It was an eye patch, one that—back when the creature was still a living, breathing pirate—had been screwed directly into the skull. It also appeared to be the last remaining reaver, and Larinna moved to help combat it.
It was clear immediately that this final foe did not intend to go down without a fight. Reaching down and scraping bony fingers along the ground with a noise that set Larinna’s teeth on edge, the creature snagged a second blade. It moved with surprising agility even with a weapon in each hand, slashing and stabbing as Adelheid’s crew moved to surround it. Larinna wondered why Ned hadn’t simply dispatched it with his blunderbuss, and began to fumble with the rifle she’d stolen, hoping to land a shot that would end the battle then and there.
“No!” Adelheid called urgently as she took aim, and Larinna paused, confused. The skeleton spun to face Larinna, now clearly convinced she was the greatest threat, and began to lurch in her direction. Larinna stood her ground, rifle unwavering, though her finger itched to pull the trigger before those twin swords could get anywhere near her.
Adelheid seized her chance and leapt, bearing the skeleton to the floor from behind. Her sword cleaved away its fleshless right arm while her empty hand wrenched savagely at its left, pulling the limb free and tossing it aside to writhe obscenely on the floor. With all her might, Adelheid grabbed at the skull and tugged, keeping her fingers clear of the snapping jaws until the hairless head finally came loose with a sickening crack.
It was like watching a puppet with its strings cut; the severed limbs went limp immediately, tumbling apart. Only the skull clutched between Adelheid’s dirt-caked hands remained intact, and even that was now as silent and lifeless as old bones should be.
“Here, Larinna,” said Adelheid pleasantly, her voice echoing unnaturally loudly in the sudden silence as she held forth the skull. “Allow me the pleasure of introducing you to Steel-Eye Simeon.”
Once they were back in the privacy of the captain’s cabin, Adelheid hung her hat and coat on a pair of golden pegs above her bed and then turned her attention to the skull, placing it delicately inside the box the Order of Souls had provided and snapping it shut with a deliberate click. “I don’t want it grinning at me all night,” she admitted.
Larinna stood slumped against the wall, exhausted. She longed for a good night’s sleep in anything approaching a proper bed, or even a pile of rags, but she guessed that retrieving the bounty was only half of the story. “So what happens now?”
“Now,” said Adelheid, busying herself in the large, curved mirror that adorned one wall of her quarters, “you’ll go back to the Order of Souls with our underfed friend and gain some understanding of the kind of business they’re really in. They’ll try to offer you gold as payment for the bounty and send you on your way.”
She turned now, staring up at Larinna with an expression of utmost severity. “You are not to accept gold. Rather, there will be a parchment, and you are to insist upon that as your payment. They won’t like that, but you have to insist. Do not walk away without the scroll. Not even a copy will suffice. Clear?”
Larinna had had enough. Enough of being patronized, enough of being tested. She’d gone through hell the last few days, and this upstart captain treating her like a child was about all she could take.
“On one condition,” she said icily, drawing herself up to her full height. “When I return, I will be a member of your crew. Not a
swabbie, not a novice, and definitely not the butt of your jokes or your snide remarks. You’ve seen me fight. You’ve seen me sail. I think we can work well together, but if you can’t treat me like an equal than you might as well tell me and I’ll jump overboard here and now. Only you’d better throw that box away if that’s the case, because there’s no way you’re handing it back to the Order of Souls without my help.”
To her surprise, Adelheid burst into a peal of laughter. “You’re so cocky it’s actually funny,” she chuckled, slapping the table. “You have no idea how hard I want to hit you right now!”
“Not as badly as I want to choke you to pieces!” Larinna shot back, surprised to find amusement edging into her own voice. Adelheid’s laugh was infectious, and Larinna felt her lips curling in a smile.
“I mean, I could just put your head through the window for speaking to me that way!” Adelheid guffawed. “It’s so infuriating!”
“Try it, short-arse! I’ll find you a box to stand on!” Both women howled with laughter at this, Larinna wiping tears of mirth away as the tension of the day evaporated and she found herself relaxing in Adelheid’s presence for the first time. They traded laughter and insults in equal measure until the first rays of dawn, and when Faizel came to say that they’d sighted land, he found the two women surrounded by several empty bottles, collapsed side-by-side against the captain’s desk, both still smiling.
The Unforgiven arrived at Sanctuary Outpost and Larinna made her way, rather unsteadily, toward the squat little building beneath which the Order of Souls did its business. There was no Aggie outside to greet her this time in the bright afternoon sun, so she invited herself inside, blanching slightly as she crossed the threshold. The smell was even worse than she remembered, and her stomach hadn’t yet forgiven her for last night’s reconciliation with Adelheid.
Rather than the hunched figure of Phoebus that she’d been expecting, however, occupying the room was a gaunt and willowy woman whose attire reminded Larinna of a fairy-tale genie, albeit a rather severe one. She seemed intent on studying the flame and did not turn around as Larinna approached.
“I’m looking for Winston Phoebus,” Larinna declared without preamble. “I have something for him.”
This appeared to rouse the woman from her trancelike state, and as she turned around, Larinna saw that her eyes were the color of midnight, surrounded by inky black streaks that cascaded down her high cheekbones and stained her face. Yesterday she would have found the sight quite startling, but her first full day in the Sea of Thieves had already taught her to expect the unexpected, and she remained steadfast and motionless as the slender figure seemed to glide across the room toward her.
“My brother is indisposed, I am afraid to say.” It was a low and lilting voice with an indefinable accent, slightly thickened by the long-stemmed pipe that hung from the woman’s mouth. Larinna had never taken to smoking and was no expert, but she was absolutely certain that what was smoldering in the pipe’s bowl was something altogether stranger than tobacco. “I am Madame Occulia. Like him, I represent the Order of Souls. Unlike him, I possess some measure of magical talent.” She took a deep draft of her pipe and exhaled a pale smoke ring toward the ceiling.
I’m struggling to see the family resemblance, Larinna thought to herself, but out loud she said, “I brought your brother a bounty, as we had discussed.” She tapped the box for emphasis. Try as she might, she found Occulia’s black-eyed stare quite disconcerting because it made it impossible to tell precisely where she was looking at any given moment.
The mystic’s long fingers reached for the box without asking, but Larinna stepped smartly backward, tugging the skull out of the woman’s reach. For an instant, she thought she saw a flash of annoyance on Occulia’s face before she regained her composure and smiled serenely. “Is this your first time working with us, my dear? It is perfectly normal for one like my brother, who does not possess my gifts, to deal with the facts and figures while I remain attuned to a higher plane. You may of course deliver your prize to me instead. And then,” she added with the air of one bestowing a tremendous gift, “perhaps you’d like to watch me at work?”
Larinna very much did, if only to finally gain a complete understanding of the madness she’d been embroiled in since first encountering Faizel and the others, and so surrendered the box without further complaint. She watched intently as Occulia removed Simeon’s skull from its resting place with something approaching reverence, following when beckoned toward the rear of the tent.
There was a smaller table here, tucked behind a heavy velvet drape that provided some relief from the foul-smelling flames. It was stacked high with piles of parchment, all of which appeared to be curiously blank, and lit only by a circle of the dribbling green candles.
Simeon’s skull already sat in the center of the circle, and Larinna squeezed herself into a small gap between the table and the wall so that she could watch Occulia intently. She wanted the best view of whatever sleight of hand this high-and-mighty woman intended to perform for her benefit.
Taking three great puffs on her pipe, Occulia tipped some of its contents into the skull’s eye sockets so that they began to glow with an ethereal light of their own. Next, she bent toward the skull, and for a moment Larinna recoiled, believing that the strange woman intended to kiss it. Instead, Occulia merely whispered some sort of incantation into the hole where there was once a human ear before exhaling, blowing a ring of pipe smoke into the skull’s open jaw.
The reaction was extraordinary, for the smoke began to curl around and writhe like a living thing, twisting through the skull in snakelike contortions before Occulia inhaled sharply, drawing the smoke into her mouth. Perhaps it was merely a trick of the light, but it looked for all the world like words and images were flowing across the woman’s skin in the same dark ink that ringed her eyes.
Try as she might, Larinna could detect no mere conjuring trick at play. The mystic had grasped a tightly rolled parchment in her free hand, and the symbols appeared to be flowing along her outstretched arm and toward it. The skull’s eyes were glowing white-hot now, the light becoming painful to look at directly, and yet more phrases spilled across the woman’s skin toward the scroll. Suddenly, the skull flared so brightly that Larinna shielded her gaze instinctively.
Just as quickly, the glow was gone, Occulia’s eyes were normal, and she was examining the parchment critically. Beside her, Simeon’s skull was now little more than a pile of crumbling dust.
“Yes, yes,” Occulia mused, still in that same lilting tone as her gaze roved up and down the scroll. “These are good memories. Very strong, very clear.” Suddenly all business, she moved to the front of the tent once more and began to bind and seal the parchment with twine.
“Good . . . memories?” Larinna repeated, skeptically, following in her wake. She was slightly discomforted to see that two of the Order’s hooded lackeys had taken up position in the shadows, perhaps alerted by the sights and sounds of Occulia’s ritual, or magic, or whatever it had been. “Memories of what?”
“Who can say?” Occulia examined the parchment critically, making sure it was just so. “Buried treasure, perhaps, or dark regrets.”
“Well I suppose I’ll find out—” Larinna began, reaching out for the coiled scroll, but now it was she who found her fingers closing around empty air, for it had been tugged out of her grasp.
Occulia’s smile was still in place, but it had hardened slightly. “Did my brother not explain? Your recompense for the skull will be gold coins. We keep the parchment, for there are those who will pay us handsomely for such valuable information.”
“You can consider me one of them,” Larinna insisted. “Sell the scroll to me.” She decided that now was not the moment to mention her empty purse.
“I’m afraid these particular memories have long been sought-after,” Occulia said firmly, “and the Order has already agreed a sale of this document to another buyer. I’m sure you can understand that we would not wi
sh to jeopardize future relationships with our clients by breaking our half of the bargain. Instead, please do enjoy your fee and the knowledge that, thanks to your courage, the Sea of Thieves is now a slightly safer place.”
One of the robed figures thrust a bag of coins out toward her, and Larinna hesitated. She’d sworn to Adelheid that she’d come back with the parchment one way or another, and she was certain that Occulia herself would be a pushover if came to a fight. But in this cramped space, could she really take on three of the Order at once?
Looks like I’m about to find out, she thought, her expression hardening. “Well if these memories really are as valuable as you say, then I hardly think a purse of gold is fair payment. I say you’re trying to cheat me. Since you can’t very well give me back the skull, you can just surrender the parchment and I won’t need to tell every passing pirate what a bunch of lying, two-bit swindlers you are.” Larinna placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. “And if not, well, I’ll just have to fight you. All of you, if I have to. If you’re thinking that I won’t make it out alive, you may be right, but I promise you that you won’t either.” She grinned defiantly. “What will they do with your skull, do you think?”
There was no longer any pretense of friendship on Occulia’s face as she glowered over the desk. “You dare to meddle in our affairs, insult our ancient art, and threaten us! Then to declare that we are the disreputable ones? You, who are nothing but an odious pirate, come swaggering in here alone—”
“I agree, she could use a good bath,” one of the robed figures interrupted. “But to say she is alone is, I think, quite incorrect, yes?”
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