Two-Toes burst into my room several hours later. “Change o’ plans.”
I jerked awake from a deep sleep, my wounds throbbing. Guess his elixir wore off. I struggled to push myself to sitting, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
“Here, drink this.” He handed over another stein with that foul brew. I guzzled it.
“Thanks,” I said between clenched teeth, passing the stein back.
“Jester’ll be by with more fare when he gets a break in the kitchen. Busy today. Everyone’s talking about you.”
“What are they saying?” I didn’t want to ask but needed to know.
Two-Toes looked away, his lips twisted in a grimace. “That you killed yer family and then murdered Rei Vosen. That yer magic’s corrupt.”
“I swear, I didn’t do either of those things. And there’s nothing wrong with my magic. I’m in no danger of going on a murderous rampage.” I attempted a weak smile. Not a great effort, but I managed. “Besides, that’s more Twig’s thing.”
He snorted. “And I believe you. But the palace guards and City Patrol are going house ta house looking for you. I can keep you hidden, but I can’t have them lookin’ too closely at my business.”
A wave of fear and then hot anger surged through me. Burn Le Torneau and all her ilk to a pile of ash!
“I should go. I’m putting you at risk.” Breathing deeply, I pushed slowly to my feet. The potion had yet to take full effect and staying upright proved challenging.
“Here now, sit yer arse back down. You’re talking mince. You aren’t going anywhere like that. At least not on yer legs.” Two-Toes pushed on my shoulders, and I all but collapsed back onto the bed.
“What. Does. That. Mean?” I puffed between pained breaths. Le Torneau did a number on my side. I’d pay her back for that, if I got out of this alive. When. Not if.
“It means, I arranged for you ta take passage on a ship. It’s tricky, since all ships are being searched afore they’re allowed ta leave port, but we’ll be movin’ you outside o’ the city for a stealthy pick up. The captain’s a friend o’ mine who owes ol’ Two-Toes a favor or two.”
“I can’t leave Zak—”
“You’re in no condition ta do anything for the laddie. Instead, you’ll sail ta the island with the portal I told you about, Keelhaul Key. You can meet yer dragon there and then either return for Zak or go back ta the Elder ta heal first. I can only do so much for you. I ken the remedies in the Elder are much more potent.”
I wished I’d thought to ask Twig to bring Cookie with him. Cookie might look like a cute little furball but magic resided in her song. She’d healed Twig’s and my injuries more than once.
Rubbing my face, I hesitated to answer. On the one hand, Two-Toes’ plan made sense. Without Twig, I didn’t have the magical strength necessary to take on Le Torneau in a direct confrontation. Talk about a lesson learned the hard way. My injuries made it even more precarious.
Leaving Zak also felt wrong. Who knows what Le Torneau had already done to him. I couldn’t live with myself if I could have saved him but saved myself instead. There must be a way to do both.
“Quinn, I know you’re worried about the laddie. He’s a scamp but a good-hearted one. I’d hate ta see any ill befall him. But you’ll be of no use ta him dead.”
“You think he’s still alive?” I hated to voice my worry, but if Le Torneau held him captive, why hadn’t she already used him against me?
“Aye, I do. He’s too valuable ta harm. At least for now.”
Decision time. I couldn’t only consider me or Zak. Twig needed me, too, though in a completely different way. I thought of Arwin Keeling and Lynede, her poor familiar who wasted away without her. I owed Twig more than that fate. “I’m coming back for him.”
“I ken you will. I can see yer determination. I expect the Cairnsdaught Accord won’t hold up once yer dragon gets a look at you anyhow.”
The time of the dragon is upon us. . .
I closed my eyes, my teeth grinding. I’d failed to consider those ramifications. Once Twig saw me, his dragon would demand payment in blood. If we broke the Cairnsdaught Accord, it would pit us against the powers-that-be from the Hominus, the Elder, and probably the Draakonian Realm.
“Does that scare you?” I finally asked. It was very possible we’d do it anyway. Bringing the drama, one realm at a time. Could be our new slogan. Wished I were joking. It would amuse Twig at least. A little thing like an accord wouldn’t stop him from shifting if he thought it necessary.
“Dragons? Aye. I haven’t lived this long ta ignore the danger in opening the Hominus ta dragons again.”
“You don’t have to help—”
“Trustin’ my gut. Since the new High Rei came ta power, things haven’t been right fer pirates. Too many folks disappearin’ with no trace. Dragons are bad, but I tell you, these witches need ta be taken ta task. I’m betting you’ll do that.” Two-Toes grinned, rubbing his hands together. Twig would so approve.
“When do I leave?” Now that I decided, I felt an eagerness to get to the portal and Twig. I needed to heal and I needed my full strength to handle the coming days.
“Depends. My friend has ta get clearance from the City Patrol first. Could be tonight or in a day or two. Hard ta say. So far, all ships remain docked, but they can’t keep ’em much longer—too many others tryin’ ta come into port. Only hold ’em off so long. We need ta be ready.”
“I’m ready.” I better be.
Two more meals and doses of Two-Toes’ toxic tasting elixir, and I sat up without my body screaming in pain. Walking became possible if I shuffled. Better when I stood still. I planned to survive this and come back stronger.
To that end, I slept on and off all day, my dreams troubled. Had the seagull made it to the portal? Had the orc delivered the message? My sense of time was still fuzzy, but I couldn’t imagine enough time had passed.
Twig would freak when he got my note. I urged him to use caution. Caution wasn’t a language dragons spoke. It wouldn’t be surprising if he came winging into Islingwall, fire blazing from his snout. That probably equated to his idea of caution. Honestly, it echoed my definition at the moment. Or at least once I regained my magical strength.
A knock at the door brought Two-Toes, a stein of his toxic tasting brew, and another bird friend on his shoulder. Only this one wasn’t a seagull.
“Pie! How’d you find me? Where’ve you been? Is Beckett okay?” I attempted to get up, but my body didn’t quite cooperate. I sank back, let the wave of pain roll on by.
“Can you believe I’m in the same room with Blackstone Yardley’s bird?” Two-Toes beamed, his voice coming out like a kid at Winter Solstice. He looked like he’d pirouette at any moment from sheer joy. He handed over the stein, and I gulped it down in one go.
“Yer a sight fer a sore eye, Mister Quinn.” Pie ignored Two-Toes’ gushing and swooped down to sit next to me on the bed. He clacked his beak angrily. “And just look at ye. They did a right number on ye, them bloody witches did.”
“I can’t believe you’re here! Were you followed? How . . .”
Pie’s baleful glare stopped me in my tracks. He ruffled his feathers.
“Now, Mister Quinn, I may be an old sea bird but I be not completely daft. Imagine me surprise when I showed back up at the witches’ stronghold and found every witch out fer yer blood. Course ye’d need to hide in town, and I remembered yer brother saying he worked at a tavern. Didn’t take much to find it. Besides, Miss Cora asked me to find ye. She sends a message.” Pie shook his head. “Can’t leave ye or Mister Twig fer even a minute without it going poorly fer ye.”
“What message?” I straightened up with minimal pain. I’d have to find out what Two-Toes put in that elixir.
“I be trying to tell ye!” Pie hopped up and down on the cot, his plumage fluffing in an annoyed display.
“A message from the witches dinnae sound so good ta me, Quinn. You sure witches dinnae follow you here, um, Pirate McPirates
tein, sir?” Two-Toes shuffled his feet.
Sir? If not so focused on Cora’s message, I’d laugh.
Pie turned his good eye Two-Toes’ way. “What do ye take me fer? A land lubber? I know how to sneak when sneaking’s called fer. And believe me, when ye live with this one”—he pointed one clawed foot my way—“and Mister Twig, ye get good at lots o’ things ye never thought ye’d need to learn.”
I didn’t answer, mostly because I had nothing to say to that. Instead, I waited him out. Pie couldn’t be rushed, and the more I tried, the more he’d stall.
“I can believe that.” Two-Toes guffawed.
I might have sighed. Loudly. And crossed my arms.
“Anyway, I lost the scallywags following me. Witches ain’t all that good at sneaking. Not like we pirates.” Pie bobbed vigorously. He’d obviously enjoyed the chase.
“Mmhmm.” I raised an eyebrow.
“Fine, ye forced it from me beak. Miss Cora says she knows where yer brother be, and she can help ye get him.”
“She knows where Zak is?” I pushed to my feet, swaying a bit before steadying myself. “Why didn’t you say so? How do I contact her? How do I—”
“Ye do realize it be a trap, Mister Quinn?”
Two-Toes nodded. “Aye, a trap.”
I didn’t nod but assumed as much. I sank back to the cot, tired from the effort of standing.
“Cora wouldn’t hurt me.” Didn’t mean it wasn’t a trap. Our friendship well-known, she’d be obvious bait. “Is she okay? Have they hurt her?”
“Can’t rightly say. She be clearly surprised to see me, but I didn’t hear about this mess until I saw her. She hid me from the other witches, then told me to find ye and let ye know she’d help. She wants to meet at the shipyard after dark tomorrow. Crossroad of Greenden and Boothree Way.”
“That’s Fisherman’s Wharf. The scrap yard.” Two-Toes scoffed. “No right-minded person would want ta meet there. Unless it’s a trap.”
“Aye,” Pie bobbed his head. “Maybe not a willing one, but if ye think fer one moment she can escape the Council’s notice, Mister Quinn, I’ve an island to sell ye in the Holyfail Seas.”
“Burn me, I hate the Council!” I’d go. Even if Cora knew nothing about Zak, she might need rescuing. No reason she couldn’t go on the ship with us. As a witch, she could enter the Elder without too much fanfare.
“I can already see that nothing I say be enough to discourage ye meeting her tomorrow.” Pie’s feathers drooped. “Perhaps I can persuade Captain Beckett to lend a hand?”
“I’m already putting too many people at risk. Besides, where were you? You and Beckett just disappeared.”
Pie did his beak clack thing that meant laughter. “Reclaiming her birth right. I be proud to say the Disreputable Prince now be back in its rightful hands. That bilge rat, Trevor Karn, thought to steal her family’s property. I be certain he instigated her sire’s death, too. No matter. He be in Davy Jones’ locker now.”
“I never did think Karn’s story held up,” Two-Toes chimed in. “Not many believed him. Jonathon Yardley was as good a pirate captain as any sailing the seas.”
“You killed Karn?” I don’t know why this surprised me. Pie was a pirate, after all.
“Captain Beckett did. Fair-n-square. Now, she be captaining the ship and doing right by the Yardley name.”
“I thought a witch couldn’t be on board a ship?”
Two-Toes gasped, lowered his voice, “Jonathan Yardley’s daughter’s a witch?”
Pie held one clawed foot out in front of him, considering his nails. “I might have told the crew I be sent by Captain Blackstone Yardley himself to stake Captain Beckett’s claim. Ye know, Mister Quinn, pirates be a superstitious bunch . . .”
Two-Toes clasped his hands together as if in prayer. “Blessed be! Blackstone Yardley sent you?”
Pie didn’t have any eyebrows to raise, but he looked at Two-Toes, then me. “’Course he sent me. I be here, don’t I?”
I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t give his game away. Rather ingenious on Pie’s part.
Two-Toes cleared his throat. “You might miss yer chance to board the ship tonight if you go ta meet yer friend. Plus, it seems ta me that yer better off going to Keelhaul Key ta meet yer dragon and get some healin’. No offense, but a strong wind would blow you off yer feet at the moment.”
I couldn’t disagree with his logic. “I understand you can’t help with this and I appreciate all you’ve done. If I can find Zak or help Cora, then I have to try. Pie, do you think Beckett would smuggle me and Cora and possibly Zak off the island?”
Pie did the parrot version of a shrug. “She feels she owes ye a debt and will want to help ye out. Her magic’s not the strongest but she’s a mighty fine pirate with a crew that’s in awe of her at the moment. And a ship that’d be hard to beat in a battle.”
“If Two-Toes’ option fails, could you see if she’d be willing to help? I can’t risk leaving Cora behind if she’s in danger. Once I have her—and possibly Zak—we can make our way toward Keelhaul Key. Hopefully, Twig will intercept us on the way.”
“I be afraid ye’d say that, Mister Quinn.” Pie scratched at my covers, making a nest with the blankets and settling. “Why don’t ye catch me up on everything? What’s this I hear about ye killing yer family and a rei to boot? If there be a fighting chance tomorrow night, I need to know what I be getting meself into.”
29
Fisherman’s Wharf was a misnomer. Ships’ graveyard was more like it. A light fog coated the area creating shadowy patches and treacherous ground. Ships’ skeletons littered the entire area, their bones poking out through the mist. Bundles of frayed rope, wooden pallets, and tall piles of rotted wood created a hazardous maze. Even without the fog, Fisherman’s Wharf would be a difficult place to navigate. The few dim lamps did nothing to dispel the murkiness.
“Do you always do too-stupid-to-live stuff?” Beckett whispered, gripping my sleeve as Trash Panda flopped over her shoulder. TP made roadkill look active.
I glared at her. “No.”
“Sink me, how can ye tell such a whopper without being washed overboard?” Pie snickered from my shoulder.
“Fine. Sometimes.”
Beckett and Pie both scoffed.
“Okay, often. If Twig’s involved. Happy now?”
She sighed and leaned out from behind the pile of debris where we hid. “That dragon of yours isn’t going to be happy if you get yourself killed on my watch.”
“Indeed, Mister Quinn, yer supposed to be the brains o’ the crew. Leave the rushin’ into danger to a dragon. They don’t break near as easy, if ye take me meaning.”
I ignored them and scanned the wharf from the shadows, the splash of waves against the wooden pier oddly threatening. Beckett and Pie spoke the truth. Normally, I wouldn’t be so rash, but Twig wasn’t here to do it, so I had to at least try. Even though it would certainly be a trap. “If Cora says she can help free Zak, I can’t afford to ignore her. You don’t have to be here. I only asked you for safe passage—”
“You’re hurt, and your magic’s weakened without Twig. You need backup. We should wait until he returns. At least then, you’ll be at full power. I’m not the strongest of witches, and though my blade’s sharp—as are my crew’s—we’d have to get close enough to use them. Not so easy with witches.”
“I’m not asking you all to risk your lives. Besides, Cora isn’t a danger to me. And we don’t know when Twig’s coming. It’s been three days. He promised he’d return in one. I can’t wait.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, if I were the Council of Divine Magic, I’d put a watch on her. She might be your friend, but she’s putting you in danger.”
“I can’t leave without knowing about Zak. Besides, she could be in trouble, too. You think they wouldn’t use her to get to me?”
Beckett crouched, leaned out a little farther from our hiding spot. Trash Panda groaned but stayed wrapped around Beckett’s neck lik
e a ratty scarf. “Exactly! You need to think this through—”
“Quinn?” Cora stepped into the center of the deserted scrap yard, standing under a flickering lamp. She turned to scan the area, her movements jerky. The docks at night were eerie, and a rat scurried from under a dilapidated shipping container. Cora startled, then took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders. “Quinn Broomsparkle, show yourself. I’m risking a lot here.”
I hesitated. Beckett called it correctly. Definitely a trap. I squinted through the fog at the other hulking shadows. So many hiding places.
“Let me check in with the crew and I’ll sweep the area fer ye again, Mister Quinn. Don’t ye move. Somethin’ be rotten in this stew.” Pie nudged my chin with his head.
I tilted my cheek toward him, letting him rub against me. The parrot version of a hug. “Be careful, Pie. Being a ghost won’t help you if they use a ghost-be-gone spell.”
“Let them scallywags try it, Mister Quinn. This parrot has some surprises under his wings.” He fluffed his feathers before launching from my shoulder and passing through the warehouse at our backs.
“Quinn, please come out.” Cora’s voice sounded strained. She looked so small with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
My bracer hummed in warning. Clenching my jaw, I almost moved forward, but Beckett gripped my sleeve again and whispered, “Look.”
Le Torneau stepped into the small circle of light surrounding Cora, pulling a bruised and bloody Zak from the shadows. He shuffled behind Le Torneau, gagged, with his wrists bound behind him and a thick metal chain attached to his ankles. His glare should have sent her up in flames.
Le Torneau strode up to Cora and wrapped a hand around her neck, her fingers glowing an ominous silver. Cora’s eyes widened, her form still like a hen before a hydra.
“Come out, Goddessless spawn. I know you’re here.” Le Torneau smiled, her thin features standing in stark relief under the light. “You don’t wish for anything to happen to them, do you?”
If it was the last thing I did, I’d make her pay for hurting Zak and Cora.
His Fairy Share Page 20
