“You fought well tonight,” he told him. “You did all that was asked of you and more.”
Oskar smiled, but only briefly. Lorcan’s donor usually lapped up any praise, but it was entirely understandable if the intensity of the night’s events had taken its toll on his usual high spirits. He realized that Oskar was looking at him curiously.
“You’ve taken blood from someone else,” Oskar said. There was a look of hurt and panic in the donor’s eyes. Then he turned and hastened inside. Lorcan reached out a hand to reassure him, but they were separated by the movement of others. The crews brought by the three Cardinals were making their own way back to the three ships. Oskar disappeared behind the stream of Nocturnals.
The exodus of the three other Nocturnal crews was as swift and seamless as that of Sidorio and the renegades. Soon the crews stood ranked across their decks, like statues of warriors lit silver by the moonlight. They appeared to be waiting for their captains to join them.
The three Cardinals were no longer ranked in a line. Instead, they were clustered, facing Obsidian, as if the four of them were indeed points on a compass. Grace stood to one side. Lorcan found his way over to her and stood beside her.
“You did a wonderful thing tonight,” he said.
“No.” Obsidian spoke without turning toward them. “She did a foolish thing.”
Lorcan was amazed at his words, and even more stunned as Obsidian turned his angry face toward them both. “I warned you many times that we had no allies upon which to call. But you chose to ignore me.”
“What do you mean?” Lorcan retorted. “If it wasn’t for Grace, we’d have certainly been defeated by Sidorio and his rebel army. As it is, we have sustained more losses than ever before in this last battle.”
“That is your perspective, Commander Furey,” Obsidian said. “Not mine.” He turned back to address the three Cardinals. “I apologize for my comrades. I’m sorry that you were summoned here tonight.”
Cardinals North, East, and West answered in their strange, united whisper: “It is not on your comrades’ behalf that you should apologize, Cardinal South—or whatever you now care to call yourself.” Their capes sparked with light once more. “Any blame in this matter must be carried by you and you alone. You broke the ways of our ancient code and enabled rebellion.”
Despite being spoken in a whisper, their words were no less brutal.
“I knew you would feel that way,” Obsidian began, only to be swiftly interrupted.
“It is not a matter of feeling but of fact. You have consistently broken the code.”
Obsidian’s voice was cracked as he responded. “I have always tried to do my best as captain of my ship. To provide sanctuary to the outsiders among the outsiders, as was our ancient accord.”
The Cardinals were merciless. “You overstepped the bounds of your power. You confused being captain with being a god. You are too much in thrall to humanity. Your role, like ours, was to care for Vampirates who needed haven. Yet you remain fascinated by mortals, though they are frail and transitory in comparison to us. You made yourself weak by allowing yourself to become a vessel for the lost souls you gathered like flies to your web. You failed to contain the threat on board your ship and within your quadrant. And, instead of turning to us, you sought the help of Mosh Zu Kamal. It was he, no doubt, who persuaded you to remove your mask and take a human face. At that point, you ceased all entitlement to the name of Cardinal South. And now—now you have entered an alliance with mortals! How could this have ended anything but badly?”
“I had to change,” Obsidian said, a note of pleading in his voice. “I felt the world, our world, changing, and I had to respond.” He shook his head. “The rest of you haven’t faced a rebel like Sidorio on board your ships, within your quadrants.”
There was a moment of silence, then the Cardinals resumed. “Sidorio is not the biggest rebel on board The Nocturne. You are! You chose to disregard the old ways—the ways that have ensured peace for many centuries. You endangered not only the Vampirates in your quadrant but those across the oceans as a whole.” The Cardinals paused. “And so, when we were called to help you, we came. But we come only once.”
Obsidian bowed his head. “I repeat,” he said, his voice retaining a stubbornness and pride, “that it was not I who called you here tonight. You have my word that your help will not be called upon again.”
Lorcan exchanged an anxious glance with Grace as the Cardinals made their response.
“Call or do not call. We have our own quadrants to attend to. Next time yours is under threat, you must face the consequences alone.”
Obsidian nodded. “We understand one another.”
“It is time for us to depart,” the Cardinals said. They moved into an approximation of a circle, reaching out their arms until the tips of their gloves met. A mist began to rise around them and their capes began to spark once more. It rapidly became hard to distinguish one figure from another. Then a fog of incandescent light enveloped them. It was a light so bright that both Lorcan and Grace covered their eyes. When they opened them again, the Cardinals had vanished and so, too, had their three ships.
Now Obsidian, Grace, and Lorcan were alone on the ship’s deck. Above them, The Nocturne’s sails flapped and crackled with light. It was as if the ship had been restored of its dwindling energy. Only the darker stains upon the red deck boards indicated that a terrible battle had taken place here tonight.
“We must go inside,” Obsidian said, his head bowed. “The light is on its way.” He strode away from the others without meeting their eyes.
Lorcan turned to Grace and saw there were tears on her cheeks.
“Grace, whatever Obsidian says, you were amazing tonight,” Lorcan told her. He reached out and pulled her toward him. “By reuniting the Four Cardinals, you defeated Sidorio and pretty much single-handedly brought this terrible war to an end.”
“Then why does it feel like I’ve lost everything?” she asked. “Why is Obsidian angry with me?”
“You’ve become so powerful,” Lorcan said. “He used to be your mentor but it’s clear your powers now outstrip his. The prophecy said that you and Connor would win this war, and so you have.”
Grace shook her head. “The prophecy said that one of us would die. I don’t think this war is over, and if Sidorio and Lola attack again, we’re on our own. There are no more allies to reach out to. What if I played this card too soon?”
Lorcan brought her closer. “We don’t need any more allies,” he said. “They won’t attack again. This war ended tonight. You saw the look on Sidorio’s face. It’s over, Grace. And it’s all thanks to you.”
Grace brought her head to rest on his shoulder. “I really wish I could believe you,” she said. “But I can’t, Lorcan. I just can’t.”
He held her in his arms, trying to bring her comfort. But suddenly, in her head, she heard that whisper again. It seemed that the Three Cardinals had one further message for her.
You are right, child of the prophecy. This was not the end, but it approaches fast. Our work is done. The rest is up to you and your twin brother.
39
THE ACE IN THE HOLE
“This is not the end!” Lola cried. She was standing on the bridge of The Blood Captain, her eyes dark with fury, her fists clenched white. “This war is not over until I—that is we—say it is.”
“I’m just as frustrated as you are, my darling,” Sidorio said. “We all are.” Standing behind Lola, his arms tentatively around her waist, he glanced over her shoulder at the sea of troops massing below them on the main deck. He shook his head dolefully, then turned back toward Johnny and Stukeley, both of whom looked battle-weary. “We underestimated the powers of the Alliance,” Sidorio continued. Lola’s head was still turned away from him. She shook it sharply, stubbornly. Sidorio nodded at Mimma. “You were there, Captain Didio,” he said. “You tell her. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”
As Lola slowly turned around, Mimma valiantly ente
red the fray. “It was all going to plan—in fact, even better than that—until the Three Cardinals arrived,” she confirmed. “Then everything changed.”
Lola addressed Sidorio in plain exasperation. “I don’t understand how you could have traveled on The Nocturne so long and not know there were other ships in the fleet.”
Sidorio shrugged helplessly. “Darke—even before he became Obsidian Darke—was very practiced in the art of keeping secrets.” He sighed. He was tired, bitterly disappointed, and in need of a good rest. The worst of it was admitting to Lola he had been outmaneuvered by his old adversary. And she had received the news no better than expected. Even now she was staring at him intently.
“What is it?” he asked, unnerved by the ferocity of her gaze.
“I’ve just realized something,” she said, snapping her fingers, her eyes widening as if she had emerged from a trance. “The cards foresaw the coming of these Three Cardinals!”
“What cards?” Stukeley called disdainfully from across the room. “What on oceans are you going on about?”
“Last night,” Lola said, with strained patience, “as you all hurried into battle without me, I was in need of some distraction. Nathalie suggested that we amuse ourselves by consulting the cards. And very interesting they were—though now I see that I somewhat misread them.”
“With respect, Lola,” Stukeley said, “we’ve just suffered a massive defeat and we have three crews champing at the bit down there”—he pointed down to the main deck—“awaiting a debrief from us. I rather think we have bigger matters to discuss here than playing cards.”
Lola stared at him coldly. He was grating on her even more than usual. Perhaps it was time to take care of him, but, for now, she had other, more pressing concerns. “How little you know,” she said, then directed her attention to Sidorio once more. “Husband, the very first card I turned was the Four Cardinals! In readings, I have always taken the card to reflect the points on the compass and so, naturally, I interpreted it to mean that our empire was expanding and victory would soon be ours.” Her hands began moving excitedly. “I had no idea that there could be another meaning of the Four Cardinals.”
Stukeley tried to attract Sidorio’s attention. “Captain, we really should work out what we’re going to tell the troops.”
Sidorio raised his hand, his eyes still on Lola. “Tell me about the rest of the reading, darling.”
“The next card I drew was the Vanishing Angle,” Lola said. “This I construed to mean that we have pushed the Alliance to its very limit.”
“We certainly did that tonight.” It was Johnny who spoke now. The others’ eyes turned to him. “Like Mimma said before, everything was going better than planned until the Three Cardinals showed up. Seems to me like we forced Darke to pull an ace out of the hole.”
Stukeley rested his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Even if that’s true,” he said, “it was an awesome ace. We can’t go up against those guys again. They’ve shown us they’re invincible.”
“On the contrary,” Lola said, “the fact that Darke was forced to call on outside help shows the Alliance is at breaking point.” Her eyes blazed with rediscovered zeal. “The cards were right! We are on the verge of victory.”
“The darkest hour is the one before the dawn,” Sidorio said knowingly, his eyes meeting Lola’s. Once more, there was accord between husband and wife.
Lola smiled and nodded. “Speaking of dawn, let me tell you about my next card…”
Before she could continue, the door to the bridge was flung open and Olivier strode inside. “I’m sorry to interrupt you all,” he said, “but I have sad news to share.”
“What now?” Sidorio asked, despairingly.
“The Alliance has shut down five of the Blood Taverns,” Olivier said. “Evidently the pirates conducted a coordinated series of raids today.”
The Vampirates were shell-shocked at the news—none more so than Sidorio. His eyes meeting Olivier’s, he rasped just one word: “Lilith?”
“Taken into custody,” Olivier said.
“They’re shutting down our world,” Johnny said glumly. At his side, Mimma nodded.
“No!” Lola cried, drawing all eyes back to hers. “Who needs blood taverns when we have boatloads of pirates still to drain? They’re trying to put the frighteners on us, but we’re going to come back stronger than ever. We need to start planning the next battle.”
“There isn’t going to be a next battle,” Stukeley said. “Now we know what the Alliance can conjure up, it would be suicidal to take them on again so soon.”
“You are many things, Captain Stukeley,” Lola said, “but I never had you down as a coward.”
“I’m not a coward!” Stukeley protested hotly. “I’m a realist.”
“Semantics!” Lola said, waving her hand dismissively in the air and striding over to Sidorio. She looped her arm through his. “You’re not ready to throw in the towel just yet, are you, darling?”
Sidorio exchanged an awkward glance with Stukeley, then turned back to Lola. “Of course not!” he said. “We fight on!”
Stukeley frowned and shook his head. He remembered the early days of Sidorio’s rebellion, when he had seen the Vampirate leader manipulated by another rebel by the name of Lumar. That had ended badly and Stukeley had a feeling this was going to end worse—for them all.
“Just supposing,” he addressed Sidorio, “that we do launch a fresh attack on the Alliance, what exactly are you going to tell the crews?” He pointed down at the restless hordes gathered below. The troops were weary, wounded, and in need of answers.
“I’m not going to tell them anything,” Sidorio said, decisively. “You are!” Lola nodded approvingly as Sidorio continued. “You’re going to tell them that this war is not over. That they need to start feeding today so that their blood is primed and pumped for the biggest battle they’ve ever seen.” Sidorio turned from Stukeley to the others. “Stetson, go with him. You, too, Captain Didio. You’re all captains now. It’s time you stopped depending on me and Lola to make everything happen around here.”
“And what, pray, are you two going to do?” Stukeley inquired.
It was Lola who answered his question. “We need to start distributing supplies from the blood cellars. I want every last one of our foot soldiers’ stomachs so full of blood, they’ll be absolutely unstoppable.”
Arm in arm, Sidorio and Lola strode toward the exit. The two commanders of the rebel Vampirates were united once more.
The metal door of the bridge clanked shut after them, its echo filling the tinny surroundings of the bridge. The three remaining young captains stared at one another.
“Well, I may as well be the one to say this.” Stukeley broke the silence. “This plan stinks!” He turned to the others for support. “Come on, you guys. You saw what we were up against last night. Sid and Lola might fancy a suicide mission, but, tell you what, it’s a no from me.”
“Wait!” Mimma implored him. “I know you’ll say I’m biased, but I tend to agree with Lola when she says we’ve pushed them to their limits.”
Johnny stepped forward, nodding. “Me, too.”
Stukeley shook his head. “You’re like her puppets, all of you. And Sidorio’s the biggest puppet of all.” Exasperatedly, Stukeley shook his head. “Well, fine, if that’s the way you feel, you can deliver that message to the troops.” He strode to the door.
“Where are you going?” Mimma asked.
“I don’t know!” Stukeley said angrily as he pushed open the door. “Maybe I’ll have a long soak in a hot bath!”
Johnny started to go after him but Mimma reached out her hand. “Leave him,” she said. “He’ll come around. I’ll have a quiet word with him later if need be. I can be very persuasive, you know.”
Johnny grinned. “I’m sure you can.” His expression changed to one of anxiety. “Sidorio tasked all three of us to address the troops. He’ll be furious when he finds out Stukeley disobeyed his orders.”
&
nbsp; Mimma smiled soothingly, shaking her head. “He doesn’t need to find out,” she said, reaching for the door. “Come on, Captain Desperado. You and I are perfectly capable of doing this ourselves. Sid and Lola clearly want us to step up to the plate. I’m ready. Aren’t you?”
Johnny hesitated for a moment, then nodded and followed her out through the door.
“Here you are!” Nathalie said. “This should take the edge off.” She sauntered over to where Stukeley stood beside Hunter and Evil’s bassinets and handed him a glass.
“Thanks,” he said, swigging a gulp, then glancing down again at the two babies, making funny faces at them.
“So, what prompted this visit?” Nathalie asked. “Not that I’m complaining, but I’d never have predicted that you were inclined toward child care. You’re not thinking of applying to be their manny, are you?”
“Manny?” Stukeley looked blankly at her.
“Male nanny,” Nathalie explained with a grin.
“No!” Stukeley laughed and shook his head. “But after everything I’ve been through tonight, I just thought that spending time with these little guys might help restore some sense of sanity.”
Nathalie smiled. “I know exactly what you mean,” she said, gazing at the two little bodies wriggling in their cots. “Would you like kids some day?” she inquired. “With Mimma, perhaps?”
Stukeley shrugged—now wriggling himself, taken off guard by her question. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I never really thought it was an option for me.”
Nathalie nodded. “Me neither, but if it worked for Lola and Sidorio, why not for you guys, too? For what it’s worth, I think you and Mim would make delectable babies!” Smiling at the thought, she reached out her hand to little Evil. He squealed with delight and gripped hold of her finger with both his hands. “Ouch!” she exclaimed. “That’s a tight grip! Just wait until he gets a sword in his hand!”
“It won’t be long,” Stukeley said. “I’m sure Sid and Lola have big plans for these two.”
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