The Scrolls of Gideon (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 7)

by Sonya Bateman

“Who knows? She’s kind of weird, in case you haven’t noticed. And she’s obviously interested in him.” I opened the clasp and extracted a pile of papers folded in half and stapled together at one corner, then set the envelope on the deck. “Besides, there can’t be much else in the middle of the ocean besides this wreck. That must be where Grygg’s answers are.”

  I unfolded the papers. The first one was an obviously photocopied, very old, handwritten bill of sale for one custom built ship, the Nostradamus, sold to Sir Livingston Cromwell by the Ogden Shipbuilding Co. Ltd. for the sum of five thousand pounds. That must’ve been an absolute fortune in the 1600s.

  Beneath that was a passenger list for the Nostradamus. All but two of the fifteen names had been blacked out — Sir Livingston Cromwell, and Captain Noah Wilson. Then there was a map showing a section of ocean with currents, weather patterns, and depth shading, with a red X that presumably marked the location of the shipwreck. I couldn’t tell much from the map, except that the red X seemed really close to the edge of what looked like a massive dropoff.

  “Anything interesting?” Sadie said.

  I shrugged. “So far, not really,” I said as I prepared to flip to the next sheet. But then I noticed the previous page, the one with the passenger list, was split at the corner near the staple. I prodded the split gently with a finger, and it popped open further.

  There was another page stuck to the back of the passenger list.

  “Hold on,” I said, easing the papers carefully apart. The one that’d been stuck was very thin, almost like tissue paper, and it was covered in row after row of tiny, cramped script arranged in four columns. Most of the writing was too faded to read, but if I squinted I could make out a few words here and there. Silver Ear Trumpet. Barton’s Cutlass. The Aegis Shield. Reverse Hourglass. The Nereid Mirror.

  The Scrolls of Gideon.

  Seeing those words chilled me. There was no way to be sure, since so much of the writing was illegible and there was no context offered, but this seemed like an inventory. And since it was with the information about the Nostradamus, it kind of suggested all this stuff was on the ship. Including the Scrolls of Gideon.

  “Gideon, what is it?” Taeral said. “You seem concerned.”

  “Uh, yeah. Maybe,” I said, and handed him the packet with the thin sheet on top. “Does this look like an inventory list to you?”

  He took it and stared, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the page. “The locks of a dryad?” he said. “The Nereid mirror. Oberon’s circlet! It cannot be.” He lowered the paper slowly. “Many of these items are only rumored to exist. No one’s ever found them.”

  “Yeah, well maybe no one could find them because they’re at the bottom of the Atlantic,” I said. “The Scrolls of Gideon are on the list, too.”

  Sadie gasped. “Those are real?”

  “I don’t know. There’s no way to be sure where this list came from or what it means,” I said. “But it sure as hell seems like an inventory.”

  The first time I’d heard of the Scrolls of Gideon, it was in a reference to Milus Dei. They’d allegedly quoted the Scrolls in their manifesto pledging to destroy every non-human in existence. I tried to find out more, but all I ever learned were rumors, like the actual scrolls were leather made from human skin, and the ink used to write on them was human blood. I’d also gotten a little more on them from Chester Rigby, the tinfoil-hat-wearing conspiracy nut we’d met in the Pennsylvania mountains when we helped save Sadie’s pack from Milus Dei.

  “You remember all those files Chester gave me?” I said. He’d sent me boxes upon boxes of ‘research’ on his various theories about everything. A lot of it was ranting about aliens, but there’d been some actual, useful information scattered in between the crazy.

  Sadie rolled her eyes. “You mean the lunatic?”

  “Yeah, but he wasn’t wrong about Milus Dei. He got quite a few things right, actually,” I said. “According to his notes, the Scrolls of Gideon contain a bunch of alchemy formulas. Dark, dangerous stuff, extremely powerful. And anyone can use them with the right incantations and ingredients — even if they have no magic of their own.”

  “So humans could perform magic with these Scrolls,” Taeral said.

  I frowned. “Exactly. Like, the humans of Milus Dei.”

  Taeral handed the packet back to me, and I re-folded the papers and stuck them back in the envelope. Just then, the door beneath the helm platform banged open and Captain Alex strode out with Junkyard at her heels. Dom and the twins came right behind them. And all of them were armed.

  “All right,” Alex spat, approaching at a rapid clip. “Which one of you scurrying land rats laid the hex on my ship?”

  CHAPTER 8

  Taeral was on his feet and striding toward them almost before my brain registered what she said. “No one’s done a thing to your precious ship!” he snarled, picking up speed faster than they were advancing. He was drawing an arm back, the metal one, and the runes etched into it crawled with blue fire.

  But Alex had the cold iron gun. Junkyard was wielding a pair of dull gray crow bars that I’d guess were cold iron, too. Dom held the pistol that Alex said was loaded with silver, and the twins carried a thick rope net threaded with metal — cold iron, silver, maybe both.

  “Taeral, back down!” I shouted mid-scramble. Sadie was already up and moving. “You can’t let them shoot!”

  If he heard me, he didn’t acknowledge it. Alex had stopped, gun raised, and Junkyard was around her barreling toward Taeral. Even Grygg was moving toward the impending clash, though it’d all be over by the time he got there.

  Taeral pushed his hand out, directly toward Junkyard. “Céa biahn.”

  “À dionadth!” I called at almost the same time, sweeping an arm across the width of the deck. The spell that would’ve sent the big guy hurtling through the air and probably into the ocean crashed against the shield I’d just cast instead.

  And so did Junkyard, from the other side. Face-first. He bounced back with a guttural shout, leaving a smutch of blood hanging in the air as he crashed to the deck and clapped a hand to his gushing nose.

  Taeral glanced back at me with a burning stare, and then whirled to face the barrier. “Dhuunad—”

  “Cíunaas.” I winced as I cast the silence spell at him, but I couldn’t let him shut down the shield. Not yet. The absolute fury in his eyes said I’d pay for that later, but for now this had to stop. We couldn’t go this whole trip watching our backs, wondering when someone would try to get the jump on us with cold iron, or worse. “Can we try to talk about this first?” I said. “You know, before we all kill each other.”

  Alex was heading slowly toward the shield with a cold expression, one hand out in front of her, while the others scrambled to help Junkyard. “Whatever that is, get rid of it,” she said. “Or I’ll shoot it down.”

  “I wouldn’t do that. Bullets will just ricochet off it, and you’ll end up hitting someone over there.”

  Her lip curled. “Fine. Then I’ll zap the damned thing,” she said, pulling her wand out.

  “Hold on! Gimme a second, will you?” I said to her, and then faced Taeral reluctantly. “Just let me talk to them, okay? Please?” I said. “You can strangle me later.”

  He gave a curt nod.

  “Thank you.” I gestured at him. “Araais.”

  I had no idea if the spell worked, because he didn’t say anything. He just kept glaring at me.

  “I’m sorry. I had to,” I said. “You could’ve killed that guy.”

  “Aye. I could have.”

  Okay, so it worked.

  Sadie stepped between us and put a hand on Taeral’s chest, pushing him gently back from the barrier. “We’ll let Gideon talk, for now,” she said, and glanced over her shoulder at me. “But if you don’t get through to them, I’ll kill them myself. I know damned well what cold iron does.” With a barbed glare at the captain, she led Taeral away a short distance.

  I sighed and headed for the shield, wher
e Alex was running a hand across the invisible barrier. “Neat trick, right?” I said.

  “I wouldn’t call it that.” She lowered her arm slowly. “Look, just tell me which one of you did it, and what it does.”

  “Did what?”

  “Hexed my ship, damn it!”

  “The spell is mine.”

  Grygg. He was just now getting to within ten feet of the barrier. “Great,” I said. “You couldn’t have mentioned that, I don’t know, five minutes ago?”

  He stopped and made a slow series of gestures that were trying to be a shrug. “You move too quickly.”

  “You…” Alex looked at him warily. “What did you do to my ship?”

  “It’s a protection spell. A ward. Not a hex,” he said. “As you should well know.”

  “Well, you can take it off,” she snapped. “I’ve already cast plenty of protections.”

  Another slow, jerky shrug. “Mine is better.”

  “Listen, Captain Walsh.” With the rocky start we’d gotten off to, I hoped using her title would calm her down, maybe make her less defensive. “Grygg is a guardian. Protecting people is what he does, all he does. It’s what he’s done constantly, ever since I — well, since Taeral has known him, longer than me. And probably before that, too. How long have you been doing your thing, Grygg?”

  “Four hundred years,” he rumbled.

  “Oh.” I blinked slowly and tucked that away to process later. “A really long time, then. So how about you take a breath and hold off on the wild accusations? We’re not your enemies.”

  She sneered. “Of course you are. You’re Fae.”

  “Not exactly. I’m only half Fae.” I wouldn’t bother trying to defend Taeral with words, especially since he was pretty damned proud of being Fae. But I’d defend him with my life — and if I didn’t talk some sense into this woman, it was looking like I might have to.

  If I could ever get things calmed down, I’d have to ask Taeral about this apparent blood feud between Fae and witches. That had to be the reason they were both acting like this.

  “Half Fae,” Alex said. “So what’s the other half?”

  “You know, I’m not sure any more. Is being a witch genetic?”

  I was only sort of bluffing. Thanks to Tethys, I’d learned that my mother had been a witch — a latent, non-practicing one who didn’t have much contact with her original family up in Lightning Cove. But she and Tethys had been friends, or so the lady said.

  Alex’s mouth fell open for a split second, but she recovered fast and shook her head. “You’re no witch.”

  “I don’t claim to be. But my mother is. Was,” I said.

  Her brow furrowed. “Who was your mother?”

  “Are we friends now?” I said, sounding colder than I meant to. It was habit more than anything. I didn’t talk about my past with anyone, if I could avoid it. “Because I only discuss stuff like this with my friends.”

  “I, uh…”

  “You all right, Captain?”

  I started at the deep male voice. Dom, looking like he was about to try intimidating the shield into breaking. Or punching it into submission.

  “I’m fine.” Alex shook herself slightly, and the guarded expression closed over her face again. “Tell you what,” she said. “You leave my people — and my ship — alone, and we’ll leave yours alone. Deal?”

  “You need to lay off the cold iron,” I said. An uneasy truce was better than nothing, but I didn’t want to risk anyone getting seriously hurt. Or killed. “You don’t see any of us carrying deadly weapons around.”

  “Really. So your friend there wasn’t trying to kill my first mate with that spell you stopped?”

  She did have a point. “All right,” I said. “No weapons from you, no magic from us.”

  “Promise?”

  I caught the glint in her eye. Of course she knew all about the Fae and promises. “No. I won’t do that,” I said. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Then the shield stays up.”

  She let loose an explosive breath. “Fine. I’ll trust you, for now,” she said, reluctantly slipping the wand back into her coat. “But the second one of you makes a wrong move — and you will — I’ll know it. And I’m going after him first.” She pointed at Taeral.

  “Yeah, well you’ll have to get through me.”

  “And me.”

  I was only half-surprised to hear Grygg chiming in. “Think whatever you want,” I said to Alex. “But we’re not interested in hurting you or anyone on this ship. We’re getting what your aunt asked for, and then going home. That’s it.”

  “We’ll see about that,” she said. “Are you going to take this thing down, or not?”

  “Soon as you’re all headed back for your little hole, and taking your poison with you.”

  Alex glared at me for a long moment. Finally, she turned away, jerked her head, and started for the door. The rest of them gathered up the nets and crowbars, and followed her without a word.

  When the wooden door closed behind them, I gestured at the shield. “Dhuunad sios’na.”

  “Maybe you should have left it,” Grygg said.

  “Nah. She’ll cool off,” I said. “I think.”

  Grygg’s expression was as close to dubious as he could get.

  I stared at the silent door for a minute, and then turned to head for Taeral and Sadie so I could tell them the terms of our so-called negotiation. Taeral was going to be furious about the no-magic thing, but at least I hadn’t promised.

  And I had no intention of holding back if they decided to start something again.

  CHAPTER 9

  When I told Taeral and Sadie that I’d agreed, but not promised, we wouldn’t use magic, Sadie was furious. But Taeral was strangely calm. And then, he smiled.

  I didn’t take that as a good sign.

  “No magic?” he said, straightening slowly from the railing he’d been leaning against. “Very well, then. What is the human expression … a deal is a deal?”

  “You’re scaring me,” I said. “Why aren’t you pissed off?”

  His disturbing smile widened. “Did the captain not say that we must follow her rules, however arbitrary? If she wants no magic, that is exactly what she’ll have.”

  Before I could ask what he was getting at here, he dropped his glamour.

  Taeral in human form was imposing enough. Without his glamour spell, he was terrifying. Taller than ever, with blue skin and pointed ears, long limbs and triple-jointed fingers tipped with razor-sharp thorns — almost as sharp as his needle-like teeth. The deadly Unseelie warrior on full display. Even his prosthetic arm had shifted to match, though it was still gold.

  It was a petty gesture, even for him. And it wasn’t going to help any of us get along for the rest of this trip.

  “Come on, Taeral,” I said. “That’s not what she meant.”

  “Isn’t it?” He took a step toward me, eyes blazing. “I have stopped using magic, as the witch commanded,” he said. “Perhaps you should do the same, brother.”

  I didn’t bother responding to that. My own natural form wasn’t that scary, but I did look like an animated corpse without my glamour. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  Taeral smiled as Sadie came to his defense. “You could follow my example as well, a’ghrael,” he said, brushing her moonstone-flecked velvet choker with a finger. “I’d not mind at all if you stopped powering this.”

  “Well, I would. There’s no way in hell I’m walking around this ship naked.” She smiled back and took his hand. “But I support your decision.”

  “Anyone care to tell me why?” I said. “You’re only going to make things worse.”

  Sadie huffed. “It doesn’t matter what we do. She’s going to make things worse, regardless.”

  “Let me guess. Because witches and Fae hate each other.”

  “Aye, that is part of it.” Taeral cast a glance at the doo
r leading below decks. “The conflict began centuries ago, when human witches drove most of the Fae from this realm. Largely by slaughtering them. The Fae have few mortal enemies, and witches are most definitely among them.” He shook his head slightly. “But this witch in particular…”

  “She doesn’t like the Fae, but she despises Taeral. Personally,” Sadie said. “I could smell it on her.”

  “The feeling is mutual. Though I cannot explain exactly why.” Taeral’s face contorted briefly. “She reminds me of someone.”

  I frowned. “Who?”

  “If I knew that, I might be able to understand this feeling.”

  “Gideon, she wants to kill him.” Sadie met my eyes with a steady gaze, but I could still see the fear in hers. “And she can. She’s a weather witch, she has a cold iron gun, and they outnumber us.”

  Well, at least this explained why the two of them hated each other on sight. Sort of. And I believed Sadie wasn’t just being paranoid or antagonistic. Her sense of smell was sharper than I could even begin to understand.

  “All right. No one’s going to kill anyone,” I said. “You two stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Where are you going?” Taeral said.

  “To have a talk with our captain.”

  I only hoped she’d listen. Because if she didn’t, I’d have to break off the whole no-magic deal. My brother had spent most of my life protecting me from harm, the best way he could.

  Now it was my turn to protect him.

  CHAPTER 10

  Grygg offered to go with me, but I declined. Not that I wouldn’t have appreciated the help, since Captain Walsh seemed at least uneasy enough not to challenge the golem.

  I just figured there was no way he’d fit through the door.

  Mr. Wilt was still at the helm when I approached and seemed to take no notice of me. I stopped at the door, thought about knocking to be polite and decided against it. There was nothing polite about the way any of them had been acting so far. So I just turned the knob — but it was locked.

  Well, I hadn’t promised.