by Lorna Reid
‘Cheers, Jal,’ said the Captain in a dry voice. Patches gave him a mischievous look and grinned at Katrina.
‘Punched the Marshall of the Guard when he challenged the cargo we were sneaking in.’
The Captain folded his arms. ‘It was too expensive to dump and we risked a lot to get it there. Anyway, who was personally escorted out of Silverton and banned by Governor Shively under threat of having your head, among other things, cut off?’
Patches waved it off. ‘He overreacted.’
The Captain shared a small smile with Katrina. Over the last few days, since the first dinner and now after their talk, Katrina felt like the cold hardness she’d first seen in him had melted slightly. She liked him a lot; there was a depth of wisdom behind his eyes, and Katrina felt there was a great sense of mischief and warmth beneath his guarded exterior.
‘Couldn’t find it in his heart to take pity on a hardworking reprobate like you, eh?’ said Mineska, joining them and slipping her arms around the Captain, who grinned and rested his head against hers, stroking her arms.
‘The Governor’s wife did. That was the problem,’ the Captain said with a wicked sparkle in his eyes. Patches struggled for a retort all the way back to the crew room.
*
The town of Clementine slowly emerged from the darkness, lights twinkling in the black. As they drew closer, large flaming perimeter torches lit the rocky shores where the sea gnawed endlessly at the town’s fringes. The Riana hugged the land and slid round the town into a small sheltered dock, whose slipways and warehouses were watched over by a pair of idle cranes, their cables creaking and stirring above the water.
Large watchtowers stared down at them as they clattered down the gangplank, and Danny looked up to see watching figures. What were they looking out for? Who would attack them down here?
It was a strange feeling for Danny, stepping onto dry land again, and it took a few minutes for him to get used to it. The crew busied themselves unloading cargo, and people emerged from the surrounding buildings to receive it while more wares were stacked on the dock, ready to be ferried on board by the remaining crew members on shift. The rest of the crew left the dockside and headed down the narrow streets, chatting and happy.
The roads were surprisingly well lit and they had no problems making anything out as they passed beneath the flaming torches that bathed the place in a gentle amber glow.
Danny wasn’t sure what he expected a town in the Black Pass to be like. Something out of an old gothic horror film, perhaps, but it wasn’t. It reminded him of a seaside town they had visited when he was small: compact, full of crooked, characterful buildings, small streets, and odd shops and homes. Aside from a distinctly cobbled-together feel, this place was pretty much the same, he thought. Only darker.
There were a few people in the streets, going about their business among the houses and occasional shops, or clustering around hot-food vendors, laughing and talking, wearing heavy cloaks as a concession to the cold. The crew drew attention as they passed, with people breaking off and stopping to form chatty knots of laughter, gossip, and news with the locals.
Ivy bought a bag of sweet pastries from one of the vendors and shared them out, and by the time Danny had finished his they had halted beneath a weathered sign.
‘Traitor’s Embrace?’ he asked.
‘Best tavern in Clementine,’ said Patches, pushing open the heavy double doors with their thick stained-glass panes and allowing warmth and light to flood over them. The bustle and chatter faded momentarily until the patrons recognised the crew and shouted their greetings.
The volume jumped back up as if there had been no break, and there was a flurry of handshakes and welcomes. Crew members peeled away into the crowd, talking and pulling up chairs, while others headed for the bar, where the barman was already lining up a row of glasses.
Mineska guided them to a long table opposite a roaring fire before sliding her velvety blue jacket over a chair and heading for the bar. ‘You can tell we’re regulars,’ she said, returning with a tray of drinks for them.
‘Does everyone know you down here?’ said Poppy, sipping at a mug of the hot, spiced fruit drink that they’d been given.
‘More or less. We get a better welcome here than in many overland places,’ said Mineska, flipping her hair back, downing half a glass of pale orange liquid, and helping herself to a handful of fried potato slices from the vast bowl Patches had plonked down between them all.
Danny grabbed a handful of potato slices and dipped one in each of the sauce bowls on the tray that Patches had also put down, trying them all while he listened to Mineska talk about Clementine. He was having a good time; home and school seemed like another person’s life. The Lands, from the magic down to the rich red sauce that he couldn’t get enough of, had mended part of the gap created by his mother’s disappearance – albeit it was only a flimsy patch. Reality and the needling pain for her pierced through easily.
He had come here with few thoughts other than finding her, and he felt close now. The danger lying ahead of them was shoved aside, and failure wasn’t an option, in his mind.
Danny dunked another potato slice in the red sauce and then sandwiched it between two vegetable crisps from the dish that Wake had brought over. Until he found her, and once he had wrestled the daily (sometimes hourly) fear away, he was determined to experience everything he could – every sight, sound, and taste before it was over.
He’d learned to tie four different knots, sling a hook, and Mineska had started teaching him to shoot a bow. A far better use of time than the junk they taught at school, he considered.
The Captain circled his arms around Mineska from behind and gave her a lingering kiss. He playfully snatched and finished her drink before she could stop him, and then threw a pouch each to Katrina and Danny.
‘Yours.’ He watched them empty coins into their hands. ‘For the Shriex you killed – we sold them to Keeyes, the meat man.’
They stuttered their thanks, hardly believing their luck.
The coins were beautiful and Danny had never yet become bored of looking at them. The triangular one was his favourite: silver shot through with a sliver of clear green stone. The money was heavy and somehow reassuring, as if its mere weight conveyed worth.
‘You mean people eat those things?’ Poppy pulled a face. ‘There was barely any meat on them.’
‘You didn’t complain when you ate that stew last night,’ said Patches, accepting a tray of fresh drinks from a barmaid. Russell spluttered on his juice and everyone grinned at Poppy’s horrified face. Even Katrina, adventurous in all but food, looked green.
‘Tasted good to me,’ said Danny, sipping at his drink.
‘You’ll eat anything,’ said Russell, poking at his vegetable crisps and looking thoroughly put off.
While most of the crew had gravitated to the myriad of scattered tables, laughing and chatting with friends, the Captain retreated to a small table in the corner. As the evening went on, he held a dozen different conversations with a stream of people. Most ended in a handshake, and the occasional letter, parcel, or pouch of money changed hands.
‘Mixing business with pleasure,’ said Mineska, following Danny and Poppy’s stares. The Captain shook the barman’s hand and the two of them came back to join them, the Captain slipping off his jacket and dropping it onto the back of the chair beside Mineska. For once, the garment actually showed some relief from the blackness, with square silver clasps running down both sides. It looked smart, and Danny wondered if his dad had any similar ‘Lands’ clothes’.
The Captain unlaced the first few ties of his shirt and downed his drink. ‘Throw in another tankard of red sauce, Mac, and you’ve got a deal,’ he said, watching Danny battle Poppy to dab up the last of the table’s portion with their potato ends.
Mac grinned, sweeping all the empties onto his tray and striding away, his head nearly brushing one of the low chandeliers, which was alive with magical lights.
&nb
sp; Mineska laughed as someone began to play a fast tune on the piano, and she pulled the Captain up. ‘Dance?’ Danny looked at them. Surely someone that moody didn’t dance. It would be like Russell’s dad turning stand-up comic.
Patches hauled himself up and bowed to the waitress, who laughed and allowed him to spin her away. Other people shoved their tables out of the way and pulled their drinking companions up to join in.
The Captain laughed and clasped Mineska around the waist, spinning her around into the crowd as if she were lighter than air, her hair fanning out and catching the light.
Wake pulled Katrina to her feet before she could object and bowed cheekily, his usually messy green hair combed neatly forward, contrasting with his black shirt. A young barmaid coerced Danny up and grabbed him round the waist, and they spun to the lively music while he stumbled, feeling awkward and irritated.
‘You’ll get the hang of it,’ Mineska whispered in his ear, dancing past. Despite himself, he started to enjoy it – the enthusiasm was contagious and he began to lose his frown, also happy that almost the whole tavern was on its feet, masking him from unwelcome observation.
His partner spun him to face someone else while she dragged a reluctant-looking Russell into the melee, dancing carefully due to his injuries, and Danny found himself face to face with Poppy, who was pink-cheeked and giggling.
She grabbed one hand and slipped his other around her waist and they danced, trying to avoid crashing into anyone. He had never seen her smile so much and couldn’t help but stare at her long hair and bright blue eyes as they tried to match the quickening pace of the music. She seemed adept and graceful, and by comparison he felt like a dinosaur drowning in quicksand.
Katrina danced briefly with a few crew members before being caught by Wake again, their careless spinning causing them to nearly cannon into Patches, who was whispering in the ear of the voluptuous barmaid, whose hands, Danny was interested to note, were moving more than her feet seemed to be.
He had no idea what time they eventually poured out of the tavern, but the shops were shut and the streets were mostly empty as the jovial crew wound their way back to the Riana.
Poppy had remained with Danny; her hair was a mess and her cheeks were flushed, but for once she didn’t seem to care, and he suddenly liked her all the more for it.
‘I didn’t know you were such a good dancer,’ she said, and grinned at Danny. He flashed an involuntary smile and stared at the ground as they walked. ‘I could swear you’re blushing,’ she teased, earning a nudge from him, which she laughed off. ‘I’m serious,’ she said. ‘Once you forgot to keep frowning, you looked like you were enjoying yourself.’
‘I was,’ he admitted.
Mineska and the Captain strolled along in front, hand in hand, talking quietly, occasionally pinching or tickling and laughing. It still secretly amazed Danny how different and softer the Captain was around her. Patches was still nowhere to be seen after he’d vanished off with his dance partner earlier that evening, but Wake followed on just behind the Captain, nibbling at what looked like a giant biscuit studded with red fruit.
The Captain stopped in front of the ship to kiss Mineska, and Poppy and Danny caught up with them. Mineska glanced at them and looked puzzled. ‘Where are Katrina and Russell?’ she asked, scanning the crew who wandered past, some being supported by more alert, able companions.
‘Behind us, I thought,’ said Poppy, looking round. Danny suddenly realised he didn’t know when he had last seen them.
The Captain’s eyes narrowed and he frowned. ‘They’re running for the south shore.’ He stared into the gloom, his eyes seeming distant. Poppy gave Danny a quizzical look and he shrugged.
The Captain swore. ‘Look after them, Min. I need to go.’
‘What’s going on? Where are they?’ called Poppy, but he ran back along the dockside and cut down a side street, out of sight.
‘How does he know where they are?’ Poppy asked Mineska.
‘Psy Mage,’ she replied, looking worried and distracted.
‘Yeah, keep it to yourselves. He doesn’t like to advertise it. Many don’t,’ said Patches, finally joining them and helping himself to a chunk of Wake’s biscuit. ‘It can make people nervous.’ Patches appeared to have acquired a lipstick smear on his shirt collar and looked floaty and flushed, Danny noticed with an inner smirk.
‘Think we should go after them?’ Wake said, slipping an arm through Mineska’s and staring in the direction the Captain had vanished.
‘I imagine he’ll be fine,’ she said, taking a bite of the proffered biscuit. ‘Besides, we need to get this last-minute favour for Mac loaded.’ She nodded to a number of bales of black glittery cloth stacked on a pallet near the gangplank. Poppy and Danny threw a last glance in the direction the Captain had run and moved to help.
*
Katrina was still giddy, drunk on the atmosphere of the tavern, when she set off behind the others, and smiled as she fed off the high of the evening. Russell fell into step with her and they trailed along at the back, looking around at the lanterns and huge torches that spilled their dull light over the yards and houses.
She was about to ask Russell if he had enjoyed himself when a whisper touched the edge of her mind. She slowed down and glanced around. Maybe I’m hearing things, she thought. It came again, louder this time, more urgent.
‘What?’ she said, looking at Russell.
‘I didn’t say anything,’ he said in surprise.
‘Then who did?’
‘No one said anything.’
The whisper flooded into her head again, like a cool touch on burning skin, and she jolted, filling with a sudden, desperate panic. ‘It’s coming from over there.’ She pointed down a narrow street that snaked away under the lights. Russell glanced from her to the others, who were getting further away.
‘I really don’t want to get lost here or left behind, however normal this place seems.’
Katrina felt the voice in her head again and took off, darting down the street, hearing Russell swear frantically and then start after her.
*
Russell could barely keep up with Katrina, who sprinted ahead of him down narrow roads, across storage yards, past houses and glass huts full of vegetation that filled the air with a sweet smell. It wasn’t long before the buildings began to thin out and the sound of water breaking reached his ears.
He turned a corner and came to a breathless halt beside Katrina. Ahead of him, a wide paved expanse stretched gently down, unblemished, to the water’s edge. Only the tall watchtowers and huge bowls of flame lay between him and the waters of the Black Pass.
Before he could say anything, or ask her what the fuck she was doing, someone cried out and he saw a woman struggling with two men who were trying to drag a bag away from her. She clung on, her long white hair fanning and lashing against the dark backdrop in the twist of the struggle.
Katrina sprinted toward them and, despite the burning in his throat, Russell ran after her, pushing the breathlessness and the pain from his injuries away. He was tired of being weak; he wasn’t going to curl up and gasp when someone needed help.
One of the men had a knife, but instead of stopping him, it spurred Russell faster, fear and adrenalin mingling to fuel his legs. Katrina leapt at one of the men, catching him unawares, and crashed with him into the water. The second man turned as Russell smashed full force into him, knocking him into a stone post.
He saw the knife and grabbed the man’s wrist in an automatic attempt to keep the blade away from him, and then lashed out with his other fist.
The man was strong, twisting and hitting out with his free hand, but Russell pressed his full weight onto the man’s groin and lower belly and he screeched. Russell punched him again and again, survival instinct taking over, desperate to avoid the blade – terrified of feeling it suddenly pierce his skin.
*
The cold water knocked the breath out of Katrina as much as the collision. They were still i
n the shallows, but the gaping blackness of the sea vanishing into the darkness was terrifying.
The man she’d knocked down was swearing as he dragged himself up and splashed around for his knife. Katrina staggered to her feet and lashed out with her chunky boot, catching him in the groin, and he crumpled to his knees, muttering threats.
Katrina kicked again but he caught her foot and dragged her toward him, causing cold water to flood up her nose and into her throat as she crashed down and was ripped forward. Any moment, she expected a blade to stab her.
She kicked out, desperately, catching him in the face. He yelled and his grip loosened, and she lashed out with her fists as hard as she could, her chest constricting with panic as she gasped and choked on the cold, bitter water.
The grip on her foot vanished and she shuffled back, shrieking for breath. Blood streamed from the man’s nose and mouth, and he rose like an aquatic monster, water cascading from his oiled black coat and long hair, which stuck to his face. A blade glittered in his fist, and her stomach knotted.
Someone grabbed Katrina and hauled her up and out of the way before smashing their fist into the man’s face – two, three times – kicking him hard until he slumped back into the water, unmoving. The Captain grabbed her arm to steady her. Relief hit the dissipating wave of fear, and the wrenching clash made her legs weaken.
‘Katrina, are you alright?’ He looked panicked for the first time since she had met him.
She nodded, feeling light-headed as the adrenalin seeped away and the reality of what had happened hit her. The pain in her hands filtered past her momentarily disabled senses and everything flooded back: the thieves with knives, the collision, the inky water that stung as it filled her nose, the attacker’s bloody face. Katrina flung her arms around the Captain, who spoke in a soft voice.
‘It’s alright now, lass. You’re safe. It’s alright.’ She sobbed into his chest, feeling stupid, which made it worse. ‘It’s over. What the fuck made you come out here?’ he said.
‘I heard someone calling my name. It sounded urgent, and I followed it here. They were threatening that woman. I didn’t think. I just hit him.’
