Alexa Drey- the Gates of Striker Bay

by Ember Lane

  Billy leaned over a crouching Sutech. “That ship, as you called it—my old ship—that would have hardly snuck you into Ruse unseen, and unseen is what you need, though that is a more a-la-carte choice as we’ll discuss in a minute. My private ship, well, that is exactly what you need.”

  I scratched my head. “But you said you were working for Belved. Why help us now?”

  “I said I was in his employ to get you out of Valkyrie. As soon as we step on my little boat, that commission is complete, and I prefer to broker my next before I relinquish my last. So would you like to commission me to take you to Ruse? If so”—he raised a bony finger—“I have three travel packages available.”

  “Three?”

  Billy nodded and started walking up and down in front of us, like some flash salesman. “Firstly, I have your standard Ruseian one-way ticket arriving at the largest port of Trybrelleth where, no doubt, a grand reception will await you. That is, they’ll probably slaughter you without the slightest hint of mercy, and then this whole thing is wrapped up and done.”

  We all grumbled a little.

  His second finger shot up. “Fret not, we have the second package that would take you to a little known cove on the darkest side of Ruse. Eighty-percent chance of an undetected landing and a choice of nighttime or daytime landings, though they are a little difficult to tell apart. Clear advantages over the first package. I think we can all agree on that.” His final finger shot up. “But, I’m not finished there. Third package. All the benefits of package two, plus I guide you to the heart of Ruse—to Slaughtower itself. Which would you prefer?”

  “Your little boat?” Mezzerain asked as he finally extracted himself from the chimney, completely ignoring Billy’s options.

  Billy snapped around with a crack of his spine. “My luxury, little boat—more a yacht, actually. I didn’t always want my comings and goings noticed, and I wrecked my first boat in that damn cave. Now, if you don’t mind, Big Man, you all have some choices to make. So what’s it to be?”

  Pog jumped up. “Costs?”

  Billy relit his cigar, eyeing Pog long and hard. “So you’re the money man.” He rubbed his bony hands together. “Well, my best guess is you won’t want package A. You’re far too sharp for that—I can tell.” He wagged his finger at Pog then brought it up to his bare teeth, tapping away. “Perhaps B, yes, you’d settle for B but would love to afford C. So it all boils down to your wallet. Have you got the taste for the finest wines but only the money for a cheap, morning ale, or can you afford to treat your palette? Now, I have some sway over the pricing, being a sole trader and all that, but only a little.”

  “Just get on with it,” Sutech butted in.

  Pog raised his hand. “Let him talk. He’s got me pegged so far. A is out. So the prices for B and C is what we require. It seems Mr. Long Thumb is a shrewd vendor himself. So if I were to say that I do have the coin to drink whatever wine I desire, the only question that remains is, can he supply the bottle?”

  I was humbled by little Pog’s negotiating skills and decided there and then that I’d have been better off treating life with a measure of game and humor rather than fear and nerves. Maybe some of his mantra would rub off on me…

  Billy, meanwhile, nigh beamed at Pog, bowing to him, his hands clasped out in front. He cleared his imaginary throat. “Ahh, but you won’t understand the value of B unless I explain the frugal madness, even the sadness, of option A,” Billy explained.

  “Then do so.”

  “So astute—such a pleasure. I’ll tell you: A is five thousand gold each. Five thousand gold for certain failure. They’ll see you coming, see me coming, and then they’ll pounce. Death will be preferable but unlikely. You’ll be lobotomized, hypnotized, terrorized, defiled, tortured, and bent to a god's will. You’ll be reduced to perform to Belved’s whim.”

  “So why offer it?” Sutech asked.

  “It gets you where you want to be.”

  “And Billy will also get a reward from Belved or ShadowDancer. He offers it because it is a win-win for him,” Pog crowed.

  “I feel a small twinge of love for this boy,” Billy admitted, his hands clasped over where his heart should be.

  “Let’s move on. Twenty-five thousand for that, then,” Pog summed up. “Option B?”

  Billy took a step back, puffing on his cigar, sizing up Pog. “B is twenty thou each, so that makes…” Billy’s fingers shot up in rapid succession. “One hundred thousand for the lot of you. But B is different. Billy knows Ruse. He knows all of its coves and bays, its moon-driven tides, its treacherous reefs, watchtowers, outposts. You name it, Billy knows it: B gets you ashore, B gives you a fighting chance to sneak up on Belved, stab him—kill, kill, kill.”

  We all gasped at the cost, apart from Pog.

  “But unlikely we get more than a few hundred yards inland, I’m guessing…”

  “Astute,” Billy cried, clicking his fingers. “Ruse is like no other. Night vision? Sucks in Ruse. Sure, you can see, but not if you don’t know what you're looking for. Cute little sheep, rabbits, cows, grass, trees—forget all that. Try razor fish, giant amoeba, full-toothed hydra, and the dogs—oh, the dogs—they’ve red eyes, fangs the size of your forearm. Then there’s the fungus: glowing, tempting, biting, digesting. Snakes, giant worms, fire elementals, every creature of the night you can imagine.”

  It was Pog’s turn to lean close, his lips near brushing Billy’s ear socket. “But I’m guessing you can forge a path through?”

  “Easily. I’ll even throw in a few of the gemstone trails for good measure and a cut, naturally. I have difficulty in picking them up nowadays…” He held up his hands as if to press home his point.

  “So, the increased cost for this wonderful excursion?” Pog asked, clearly enjoying the negotiation.

  Billy leaned in. “Double it. You merely double it.”

  “What?” Faulk cried. “That’s outrageous.”

  “That’s—” Mezzerain protested.

  “That’s two hundred thousand,” I cried.

  Pog’s arm shot out again, quietening all of us. “What about option D? Have you thought about that?”

  “D?” Billy inquired, scratching his skull. “I don’t have an option D; C gets you where you’re going. Why would you need a D?”

  “Because C is worth nothing to us. Option D, on the other hand, makes C worth it.”

  “Do tell…”

  Pog cleared his throat. “Option D. It’s the same as C, except includes safe passage away from Ruse to a land of our choice.” Pog leaned in farther. “We wouldn’t want your commission to switch right in the middle of Belved’s lair, now, would we?”

  Billy straightened, now pacing furiously up and down the bleak rock, spinning around and retracing his tracks. “Interesting. Interesting, indeed. And I see your point, but it puts me in a difficult position. I have to wonder at Belved’s price. What would he pay if I were to betray you once I’d brought you to him?”

  “What’s to stop him killing you once he has us?” Mezzerain asked.

  Billy stopped in his tracks. “Really? Have you looked at me? Has that chimney squashed your brains, Big Man?”

  Mezzerain scowled, sat down, and ran his fingers through his long hair. “Something’s squeezing the life out of me, that’s certain.”

  Billy resumed his pacing. “It means I cut ties. That’s expensive. Forces me to choose sides; that’s kind of final.” He paused. “Double it, and I get one hundred percent of the booty that you collect along the way. How about that?” he ventured.

  “Double it? Is that your answer to everything?” Pog asked.

  Billy took a step back. “Complex negotiations take brains, and I’m a bit hollowed out on them at the minute.”

  “So four hundred thousand for your ongoing loyalty plus all the gems we can carry in our pockets?”

  “Deal,” Billy said emphatically.

  A smile broke out on Pog’s face “We all heard the terms, and we accept. I take it
, half now, half on completion?”

  Billy dithered—a look like he’d gotten everything he wanted but had still been bested flickered over his bones, but Pog held his ground. The skeleton’s shoulders slumped, carrying a defeat he was sure he’d suffered but hadn’t yet worked out. “Follow me,” he said and trudged off. “I’ve missed something. I know I have.”

  Pog smiled, clearly satisfied the incredible deal was done. Billy disappeared around a dark bluff, little more than a silhouette against the sky’s royal-blue backdrop. My eyes adjusted, my acquired skills now so natural I hardly noticed them kicking in. Billy mentioning night vision now reminding me of them.

  I’d lost my Mandrake magic. What had Pog called it? My beginner’s magic, but all the skills were still there, just hidden, however, being around Sutech and Mezzerain, it was like they weren’t skills anymore. We just had them, and they didn’t. I wondered how they’d fair in the ever dark of Ruse, especially after Billy had discounted them so. It appeared each land operated to its own rules to some degree or the other. I could only pray my magic wouldn’t let me down in Ruse.

  More details of Billy’s secret island became clear, and I decided that, first off, it was more than just a lump of rock. The coast’s shallow curve told me it was a decent size. As a guesstimate I had it down as a medium island maybe a mile wide, though it was hard to tell.

  As for being just a rock, that proved a variation on the truth too. Leafy branches brushed my legs, hands, and forearms, the bare rock that had surrounded the chimney overtaken by nature. The trail around the small bluff wasn’t just rock either—it was soft underfoot, a blanket of earth now cushioning our way. Farther around, we started heading inland, the soft vegetation thickening and hemming us in on both sides. It grew higher, thicker and spilled over out trail. The sea tapered away behind us. Our path steepened too, threading its way up a small valley, another larger slope coming into view and soon making up our other side.

  “Just a rock?” Pog questioned.

  “My rock,” Billy answered. “And I’m not negotiating anything to do with it with you.”

  He crossed over onto the larger slope, picking his way through scrawny-looking trees that kind of matched Billy himself. I stared up at the ridge above us, the moon sitting on its fringe. We headed for it for a good twenty hard minutes, but when we reached its top, it proved worth the climb.

  Below us, a moonlit lagoon filled a horseshoe valley. A small jetty protruded from its curved bank with an equally small sail ship moored at its end. Billy’s cabin was nestled a little ways back, surrounded by the darkened outline of trees and shrubs, and all looking idyllic.

  “My rock,” Billy reiterated.

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” Pog insisted.

  “Why does a skeleton need such a place?” Mezzerain asked the question on everyone’s lips.

  Billy took a scratchy path down the ridge. Perilous footing comprising of loose stone and dry mud made traversing the slope as hard as the climb on the other side. He aimed near straight toward his dwelling. “Dead, I might be,” Billy suddenly answered Mezzerain, “but Alexa knows that I’m really in some form of limbo—actually a half-halfy. She’s keeping me here. You’ll have to ask her why. As a limbolian, I do feel most of what you do, but I have a fair few options with regard to how I present myself.”

  “Such as?” Sutech asked, appearing genuinely interested.

  “Well, I can choose who can see me and who can’t. I can pick my appearance, my clothes, and my general demeanor. So, at the moment, I’m the boatman, and this is what the boatman looks like. If I do this…” Billy suddenly vanished and then reappeared as a fully fledged pirate-looking person, except maybe a little see through, although he didn’t even break his stride—not even a twirl. “I look more like your classical ghost—like, I suspect, Charlotte presented herself.”

  My hand covered my mouth instinctively. Even though I could only see his back, his flowing, curly locks falling over his broad-shouldered coat, I suspected Billy cut a dashing figure. I knew he would. I always had.

  “So you see. Why should I not enjoy some creature comforts? I may not have the flesh that a roaring fire warms, but I can enjoy its flickering flame and hear the satisfying snap and crack of the burning wood.”

  Sutech didn’t reply. I think Billy’s sudden transformation had stunned all of us, so we all just followed him down the ridge. After a short while, I started enjoying the silence, the peace and tranquility of his reclusive isle. The honest toil of a march. After the mayhem of Valkyrie, it was a welcome change.

  Guilt immediately riddled me. The feeling was so selfish. For all I knew, thousands were dying on Valkyrie as Belved ravaged its lands with his explosive revenge. I bit my lip, my feelings so confused. On one hand I wanted to know, but on the other, I was impotent to act, and ignorance was bliss—damnable bliss. I drew my arms around me, feeling a chill and not knowing whether it was me or the cool night air.

  We finished our descent, coming to a path that edged the lagoon. It was a few feet from the mirror-pool lagoon. Sudden inspiration came to me, my thoughts still plagued with Valkyrie. I reached down, feeling the path’s mud and noting how dry it was. My hand felt farther around, urgently, hoping to confirm my thoughts. I checked the twigs, branches. Moss, always on top meant the stones hadn’t been tumbled, tossed around.

  Scanning the lagoon’s still water, I spied its narrow passage to the silver sea beyond the ends of the horseshoe, and a small sigh of relief finally escaped my lips. If I had a conclusion to reach, it was that Valkyrie had not suffered its complete destruction. When Variant had been destroyed, the displaced water had reached Rakesh. Billy’s lagoon’s bank, though, was bone dry. Everything was how it should be. Billy’s cabin was untouched too, and my deduction, the only one I could make, was that Valkyrie had resisted Belved’s attempted destruction.

  It cheered me, put a spring in my step, and shoved my measure of doubt to the back of my mind.

  Billy led us to his cabin, still in his full pirate garb, bounding up its small set of front steps, striding over his stoop, and crashing through his front door like a returning hero. He welcomed us all in, the dwelling instantly illuminated as a dozen oil lamps self-ignited. The others all looked around, but I only had eyes for Billy and stood frozen on his threshold.

  His black hair cascaded around his handsome, clean-shaven face—his dashing visage. Billy was devastating, like I somehow knew he would be. Classical, chiseled cheekbones, deepest eyes, a rakish smile, and dimpled chin. He had it all—the lot, and I instantly understood how his life had been impossible to judge. Billy was an out-and-out rogue; he had the eyes, the deepest eyes that could suck you in and bend you to their power, like magical, multifaceted orbs. He was a swindler, a charmer, a faker, and a lothario. He could have been any; he’d probably been all. He reached out, taking my limp hand in his, bringing it slowly to his lips, but never breaking his stare.

  “My dear Alexa, we truly meet at last.”

  Even though I knew he was dead and even though I understood he was the same flippant, conniving skeleton that had just betrayed us to Belved, my knees became weak, and I had to lock them in place.

  “That we do,” I said with as much evenness as I could muster. My heart fluttered, and my breath became way too shallow. “And might I compliment you on your current self, so much easier on the eye. Perhaps you’ll be more useful to us than a mere ferryman.”

  “The ferryman only exists when ferrying. So what do you think?” He released my hand. “Make yourself at home. We won’t sail until morning. There are beds upstairs, hooch all around—even some of the finest whiskeys from Trappas Shyl. I have leaf from Zhang Zhou. Food? No use for that, but you can fish if you’ve the will. I shall go prepare the ship. Pog, I believe you have a deposit to make? Follow me.”

  Without hesitation, Pog followed him out.

  My impression of Billy’s house from afar had been a cabin. Inside, it confirmed my thoughts. Apart from a stone ch
imney, the rest was made of wood, a rich beech or some such type. A set of stairs led up in one corner with a rear door tucked under. Mezzerain had already slumped into a chair by the dead fire, while Sutech attempted to light it. Faulk had found a pole and line and was currently fishing in his pockets. I imagined he was looking for bait of some description. He left, saying he’d bring us something special back.

  I walked the room, pulling bottles from straw-filled crates, inspecting the labels, and setting them down, finally settling on a Cendrullian rum. Stripping its waxen seal, I popped its top and took a slug. Expecting my throat and stomach to explode, I was pleasantly surprised at how smooth it went down. Sutech finally nurtured a flame into life and threw more logs on the fire. He took the seat opposite Mezzerain. I passed him the bottle and took a stroll outside. I wanted the night. I needed its space, its freedom, and peace.

  Pog was walking up the jetty, pouting a little.

  “That hurt?” I asked.

  “It was a price. I’d have paid more.” He shrugged.

  Yeah, it hurt!

  I sat on the stoop. Pog sat with me. We both watched Faulk casting, searching out his prey.

  “So,” I asked, “all going to plan?”

  “After a fashion, I think. I still sense we’re being manipulated, which is fine, but it’ll have to stop sometime.”

  “Sometime?”

  “All the while they’re leading us where we want to go, why fight? We put up the pretense we don’t know, but we’ve been following some plan or another—maybe more than one.”

  “So what do we need to do?”

  Pog let out a breath. “We have to muddy some waters. To make a difference, to fulfill a destiny, we need to break our own trail.”

  “Makes sense,” I replied and was about to say more, but a sudden commotion drew my attention away.

  “He’s got one!” Pog pointed as Faulk fought his line.