The Sin in the Steel
Page 28
“This wasn’t in our parley,” she said to Eld.
“Buc…” he began.
“I make the decisions and oaths,” I growled, staring at him before turning my glare on Chan Sha. “And I damn sure didn’t let that filthy word pass my lips. Fuck your parley.” Eld’s elbow dug into my side and I couldn’t keep the gasp between my lips. “If it’s all the same to you,” I added. I let my smile slip as I turned away from her and leaned toward Eld. “The fuck?” I growled into his ear. “That hurt!”
“Pain is a good teacher,” he said simply. I felt my eyes pop out of my skull and was surprised not to find myself staring at the ground with them hanging down my face. “Save the drama, Buc. I know you can’t do polite, but I’ll settle for not being a horse’s arse.” I started to curse him and he gave me a look that made my teeth click together. “You’re not listening, Buc. There’s something I have to tell you.” There was a special emphasis on “something.”
“The only reason you have anyone to come back to for reinforcements is because of her,” he said, jabbing a finger at Chan Sha. “That came from parley. I made the call because you couldn’t. So you’ll honor it as if you begged for it on both knees.”
I opened my mouth, but Eld kept rolling right over me, never letting me get out more than the beginning of a word. Gods, nothing is more infuriating than some fool who thinks he knows better than you giving you the rough side of his tongue. Advice unasked for is like a bag of shit on a hot day: you can’t be rid of it fast enough, and yet it lingers long after it’s gone.
“You want to live, Buc? If you want to see your crazy plans ever come to fruition, you have to be alive to see them, so blunt the file on the tip of your tongue and put that beautiful brain of yours to work. We’re going to need help. Allies. You tried to kill the Ghost Captain several times now and he’s still drawing breath. What’s your definition of insanity, Buc?”
He ran a hand through his sun-bleached hair and gave a tug of irritation I wasn’t meant to see. “You might be able to put together a team that can take him down if you can get over yourself.”
“Get over myself?” A stranger spoke the words, high and tight and seething with anger. Eld never talked to me like this. Never. No one did. If they did, I’d have cut their tongue out. I was the one who’d gotten us this far. I—
“Is the child going to throw a tantrum?” Chan Sha asked. “Perhaps she can have a lie down while we figure out how to get off this damned island and slit the Dead Walker’s throat.”
Fire filled my brain and if words could burn, I would have burned Chan Sha alive and danced around her flaming corpse. But … but if I did that, I’d be proving her point. Which meant I had to swallow it. All of it. Gods, but I wanted to punch Eld. I’d nearly killed myself thinking I’d led him to his death. His death. Failure.
I’d been letting those damn sneaky emotions creep through me again. I’d been cursed with a modicum of the portion given to others and they still managed to slip through the cracks. No wonder everyone else was so fucked up. He nearly died for me and then he sacrificed what he had left to try to save me. While I’d been ready to throw my life away like so much dross. Now I had a chance to change that, to take another path, and see this through. Even if, Gods forbid, it meant swallowing Chan Sha’s bullshit. It still took several deep breaths to conjure up the courage.
“Fine.” I touched Eld’s elbow. “I’ll do what’s right and I’ll see us through.” I squeezed his arm. “Promise.”
His eyebrows leapt into his hairline. Then he smiled and his sky-blue eyes warmed. “You’re a good heart. You always have been.”
“No, I’m darker on the inside than I am on the out,” I said. “But I will see us through.”
He nodded. “I trust you.”
“Trust.” The only word more dangerous than “promise.”
43
“I’ll tell you of the Archaeologist,” I said, leaning against the upturned hull of the rowboat beside Chan Sha. Eld stood opposite me. I followed his gaze to her and felt an ember flare in my stomach. “Unless you’d prefer Eld to fuck you sideways first?”
“Buc!”
“I prefer women,” Chan Sha sneered.
“Oh.” I straightened up. “Well, this is awkward. The only woman I can stand is myself. So, uh”—I shrugged—“I don’t know what was in the parley, but…”
“Gods, woman, you just promised!” Eld’s face was as red as I’d ever seen it and I saw a horse kick him in the balls once at the behest of a particularly earnest hansom cabdriver.
“So I did, so I did.” I patted his arm. “Old habits and all that.
“The Archaeologist. I caught up with her in a cage after I went a few rounds with the Ghost Captain and nearly buried a meat cleaver in his face. She told me of a Sin Eater she met a few hundred years ago what knows everything there is to know about Dead Walkers and magical artifacts and hidden islands. After she told me everything and we danced with the Shambles, I put an inkwell through her skull and let the Ghost Captain keep her bones.”
Chan Sha’s green eyes were wide with disbelief and Eld started to growl again, but I hurried on and after a few moments both were quiet. I told them everything. Or almost everything.
Old habits and all that …
* * *
“So the Ghost Captain is unkillable?” Eld asked when I finished.
“Not quite, but good as,” I admitted.
“But a Sin Eater can kill him?” Chan Sha asked. She and Eld exchanged a quick look that sent alarum bells ringing through my mind. What happened while I was aboard that ship?
“According to the Archaeologist and whatever Sin Eater wrote that journal,” I agreed.
“And this artifact the Ghost Captain’s guarding on the island will do the trick?” Chan Sha asked.
“According to the Archaeologist,” I lied. “That’s why he wants it destroyed, but he needs a Sin Eater’s blood to do that. And that’s why he’s built up an army of undead around him first, for protection.” It sounded patently false to my ears—letting someone who could kill him get close to the artifact that could kill him—but they seemed to accept it. Start off with the truth and most will lose the trail when you venture off into fantasy.
I’d told them everything the Archaeologist had told me—up to the part about the artifact being a fragment of Ciris. After that, until I got to my escape from the Ghost Captain, I’d obfuscated or left things out entirely. I’d tell Eld more, later, but Chan Sha didn’t need to know anything I didn’t want her to. I hadn’t considered the need for allies before, not even after the shipwrecking, but now it seemed clear. Eld said “allies,” but my mind whispered cannon fodder. Aren’t they the same thing?
We had a pirate captain without a crew when what we needed was a Sin Eater amiable to do our bidding. If we could get free of Chan Sha and play our cards right, success was still a long shot, but I’d an idea on how to keep the bone walkers occupied while Eld and I took down the Ghost Captain.
I shrugged. “Now that we’re settled up”—I pointed at Eld—“we’re taking my canoe to the island to have a little private conversation with the Ghost Captain.”
“Our parley—”
“Eld said we’d get you free of the island,” I said, cutting her off. I smiled and patted the ruined hull. “You have a boat of your own, if you will it.”
“He said more than that,” she insisted. Her eyes burned. “I will see my crew avenged and that undead bastard rotting along with the rest of his corpses. Eld promised me we three would be shipmates until then.”
“Shipmates?” I growled. “Eld?”
“Buc, there’s something you need to understand…” he began.
“Did you or did you not promise her we’d let her tag along?” I asked.
“I did, but—”
“But you forgot she tortured us?” Tortured you. Suddenly the blade I’d hidden beneath the pit of my arm was in my hand. I pointed it at Chan Sha. “She hung us up by our thumbs
. She could have slit our throats and we couldn’t have done anything more than drown in our blood.” How could you be so stupid? “She was going to kill us, Eld, just so she could keep her big secret a secret: that she had no fucking plan to deal with this mess. You think I’m going to trust her just because she lost a ship to the bastard?” I slammed the blade into the wooden hull to keep from stabbing anyone.
“Give over the dramatics, girl,” Chan Sha snapped. “Your friend made the only move he had. It’s your good fortune it was the best move as well. You’d see that if you took a breath to use that brain of yours.”
“This isn’t between us, bitch. Now”—I swung back to Eld and my voice grated in my ears—“you’re going to tell me what the fuck you were thinking.” And then I’m going to twist that to get out of this parley. I’d promised Eld I’d do what was right, but I hadn’t expected to have to do right this quickly. I could feel my limbs quivering. “You’ve been wanting to tell me something. So what is it?”
Eld opened his mouth, but the pirate beat him to it.
“You are a fool, Eld,” Chan Sha said. “A fool to put up with her tantrums.”
“I told you to stay out of this,” I hissed.
“Aye, you say a lot of shit, Buc. But tell me, do you see anyone but me here?” She chuckled. “Any other friends you’ve got lurking about who you’d like to try? Eld is the only rational one of the pair of you right now. Tell her, Eld.”
“Gods, women!” Eld threw his arms up. “I’ve been trying to, but I can’t get a word in edgewise.”
“Say another word, Chan Sha, and I’ll do the job,” I snarled, ripping the blade free from the hull.
“Another.” Chan Sha’s grin matched the strange light in her dark green eyes. “Word.”
I launched myself off the hull straight at her, knife in hand.
44
Eld was quick, and I was quicker, but that tanned, braided bitch was quicker still. Damn her.
Though Eld’s outstretched fingers brushed my legs, he couldn’t stop me from piling straight into Chan Sha. The pirate’s startled yelp was loud in my ears as my momentum carried us both over the end of the upturned boat and onto the ground. The world somersaulted and my head slammed off hers; black flecks danced through my vision while blood ran down her forehead and into her braids. We stared at each other, her features dark in shadow, then both looked at my blade, a mere finger’s length from her chest.
Somehow she had managed to get a death grip on my wrist before we went down. I couldn’t feel my fingers, could barely feel my arm, but I was still forcing the blade closer to her heart. Only the blade wasn’t moving, no matter how much I willed it to.
“Are you quite done?” she hissed.
“No.”
“Then you might as well know it all.”
“All?”
“Buc!” Eld’s voice came from behind me.
“Don’t interfere, Eld.” I could feel the sweat running down my cheek. My hand was turning a darker shade than the rest of my skin and I wasn’t sure I could hold the blade much longer.
“I am a Sin Eater, a priestess of the Goddess Ciris,” Chan Sha said. “You have threatened the life of one of Her own.” Her mouth twisted in a rough smile. “And She does not take kindly to threats.”
Eld cursed loudly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he muttered. “She’s a mage.”
I couldn’t keep the blade where it was. She was taller, older, and stronger. Imbued with a Goddess’s powers. But I moved first and I moved fast, rolling away from her. Chan Sha moved faster still, catching my other wrist in a blur and spinning me, sending the knife flying. In a blink she was on top of me, pinning me to the ground. Her dark braids framed her tanned face, but once again it was her eyes that caught me. I could see my reflection in them. Dark in a rush-woven dress.
“You did say you preferred women,” I said, gasping.
Her laugh cut off in a gurgle. Eld leaned in around the chokehold he had her in, so his lips were next to her ear. “Move a muscle before I tell you to and I’ll choke the life out of you. Doesn’t matter how fast you are; I’ll just fall back and use your weight against you. Doesn’t matter how strong you are—I can feel your heart beating against my forearm and you’re sweating like a whore after the army’s been paid.
“I know your kind. I know you used quite a bit of your power. Now let Buc go.” Chan Sha’s eyes flashed murder instead of my reflection, but she released my wrists. “Good.” He shook his head. “You’re losing your touch, Buc.”
“How so? I knew you’d get the drop on her if I took her attention.”
Doubt flickered across his features. “She told you she was a Sin Eater and you attacked her!”
“Even odds she’d have taken both of us together if I let her up. But since she wrapped me up, that left you free,” I said.
“You’re too smart for your own damned good,” Eld muttered. Chan Sha made a loud strangling sound and he glanced down at her. “If you try anything, I’ll choke you out cold,” he threatened. “And too stupid,” he added, looking down at me. “She told me what she was.”
“She told you?”
“Too tight,” Chan Sha said hoarsely, and Eld loosened his grip. She took a rattling breath and cleared her throat. “You kill me and the Ghost Captain will finally kill the pair of you like he’s been trying to. Is that what you want?”
“Better that than being killed by a Sin Eater,” I shot back.
“I won’t kill you,” she growled. Eld’s face burned but he didn’t shift his grip. “Parley is still on?” he asked in a higher-than-normal voice.
“It was she who attacked me,” Chan Sha reminded him. “And nothing’s changed. I want to see the Ghost Captain dead. I helped you while Buc was on the ship, I’m going to help you get off this island, and I’m going to help you kill that undead bastard. You just need to keep up your end and take me with you.” Eld glanced at me and I shook my head. Chan Sha couldn’t help but see.
“Gods! Tell him yourself, then. Tell him I’m a Sin Eater! I don’t care, so long as I touch that artifact first. You said it requires my blood? Well, I’ll put an end to what’s left of his life!”
Her words were loud in my ears, but louder still were the Archaeologist’s words, reverberating through my mind. One magic cannot abide the other. Dead Walkers and all of the Dead Gods’ mages use the magic of blood and bone. You want to kill the Ghost Captain? Kill him outright? That would require Ciris’s magic. Mind magic.
I stared up at Chan Sha and realized that the me of yesterday would have let Eld kill her here and now and piss on the Archaeologist’s tale. I’d been planning something before I’d realized we had a Sin Eater close to hand. But it’d been a long shot, involving stealing the Ghost Captain’s ship while he was searching for the artifact on the island, returning to Port au’ Sheen, and finding the Harbormaster. A long fucking shot. I didn’t trust Chan Sha, but I didn’t have to trust her. I just had to use her. The Ghost Captain had given me something I didn’t know I needed: information. He needed a Sin Eater to use the artifact—which made sense, given that Sin Eaters were the ones who had crashed on the island.
But: Why would the Dead Gods and the Ghost Captain not only let a Sin Eater near it, but seek one out? I’d read enough about war to know there are no rules; suddenly several pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Want to take down someone powerful? Let them think you weak, let them think you well in hand, disarm them with a smile … or a gift. Then, while they are basking in their triumph, drive the blade home. There was a certain poetic justice in letting the two religions wipe each other out. I couldn’t give a copper for poets or justice, but means and ends and all that. I needed a Sin Eater. What had I been thinking of before my mind went red with rage? Cannon fodder.
“All right.” Eld released her and stood up and Chan Sha followed him. After a moment she offered a hand to me. “Let’s plan this out,” I said, using her hand to pull myself to my feet. I straightened
a few of the rushes that had gone askew in my dress and walked over to where my knife lay in the sand. “We’re going to slip onto that island and plant this blade in the Ghost Captain’s heart.”
“Together?” Chan Sha asked.
Eld and I exchanged looks again.
“Together,” we spoke as one.
45
We sat on the sand in the boat’s shadow for some time after that, not avoiding eye contact with one another precisely, but not seeking it out, either. The silence didn’t bother me, but I could tell it was driving Eld half mad, the way he kept shooting glances back and forth between Chan Sha and me. He mumbled under his breath, turning red when he held in whatever words danced on the tip of his tongue. After a while he would relax, but soon enough then the furtive looks would start again. On and on and on, each time growing redder before finally accepting the awkward silence.
“You don’t trust me,” the Sin Eater said finally. “And we’ll never kill the Ghost Captain if we’re too worried about who is going to plant a knife in the other’s ribs.”
When I looked at her, I saw her gaze fastened on where I’d hidden my knife in my dress. Part of me had to give it to the wench—she was trying to make this work. But the larger part of me remembered her lies and the sound of Gem’s rope across Eld’s ribs. She would have fed us both to the sharks. That part of me wanted to cut her. Slowly. And feed her to herself. Now there’s cannibalism for you.
I don’t like it when someone tries to kill my friend. It brings out the darkness in me. The ember the flames left behind and no amount of words would change that. Not unless she pulled something truly spectacular out of her arse.
“I have your writ,” she said. She reached into her trousers and came up with the piece of oilskinned paper I’d traded our lives for what seemed like a month or more ago but couldn’t have been much more than a week.
Gods, she did pull something out of her arse. I buried my laughter. “The one that’s not worth the paper it was printed on?” That part still stung—bested by that Company bitch.