Barbarro turned and beckoned the others to follow him below deck.
“Marvelous,” said Molucco, striding across the deck. “Those fish slivers have given me an appetite for some proper food.” Connor grinned. You could take Molucco away from The Diablo . . . but he would always operate by his own rules.
“Say hello to Uncle Molucco,” Trofie said, once more pushing Moonshine across the path of his uncle.
“Whatever,” Moonshine said, apparently more concerned with pulling his long hair back down over his eyes.
“And here’s Cate and Bart, and you remember Connor, don’t you, darling?”
At that, Moonshine lifted his head and shook it so his hair flew back off his face. He stared at Connor, his eyes wild and bloodshot.
“Oh yeah, I remember Connor. Whassup?”
He reached out his hand and Connor assumed he wanted to shake it. As he did so, he felt a searing pain dig into his palm. What the . . . ?
As Moonshine released his hand, Connor saw that his flesh was bleeding.
Connor winced and glanced up at Moonshine, then around to see if his crewmates had noticed what had just happened. But the lure of dinner meant that suddenly he and Moonshine were alone on the deck.
“Oops,” Moonshine said. “I’m so sorry. This must have slipped out of my sleeve.” He picked up a star-shaped shuriken — a jagged circular throwing weapon. One of its prongs was now wet with Connor’s blood.
“What did you do that for?” Connor asked, scarcely able to control his anger and confusion.
“I thought it might help to jog your memory.”
“My memory?” Connor said. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend to be any dumber than you are,” Moonshine sneered. “I’m talking about Calle del Marinero. Ring any bells, half-wit?”
Calle del Marinero. The Street of Sailorsor the Strip of Sin,depending on who you listened to.That was where Connor had gone with Bart and Jez on shore leave, a month or so after joining The Diablo. Nowadays, Bart and Connor referred to the trip as their Lost Weekend. Indeed, it was the stuff of legend aboard The Diablo. The self-styled Three Buccaneers had set out from the ship on a Friday night, and when it had returned for them on Sunday evening, the three young pirates had been unable to remember anything that had happened in the intervening forty-eight hours. Even more strangely, they had been discovered dressed only in their underwear with mysterious matching tattoos. Two months later, Connor and Bart were still being ribbed about it. And yet they continued to remember nothing. It appeared, though, that Moonshine knew something more than they knew.
“Were you there?” Connor asked. “Did we meet there?”
Moonshine sniffed in disgust and burst a zit on the side of his nose. “Give it a rest, eh, Connor,” he said. “You know exactly what went down at Calle del Marinero. I had my bodyguards confiscated after that, thanks to you and your pals. Dad thought I was giving him a bad name. Well, I’ll show him . . . and I’ll show you. Expect payback very soon.”
Payback? Wasn’t a shuriken in the hand payback enough? What more did Moonshine have planned for him?
“Well, isn’t this nice?” Trofie’s voice was swiftly followed by her face, reappearing from the doorway. “Are you two young men becoming friends?”
“Yes, Mother,” Moonshine said, his voice as sweet as an overripe melon. “But Connor has had a little accident.” He pointed to the gash in Connor’s hand.
“Oh, no!” Trofie said, stepping forward to examine the wound. “You’re bleeding!”
“I’ll be fine,” Connor said. “It’s only a superficial cut.”
“Come on inside and we’ll fetch the sea-urchin salve,” Trofie said. “It might sting a little, but it will stanch the bleeding. However did you do that? Oh, don’t even tell me!” she giggled. “Boys will be boys!”
She ushered them through the door into a carpeted hallway with a massive chandelier.
Connor turned to Moonshine with a look of pure hatred.
“Get a move on, mutant,” said Moonshine, giving him a shove. “I don’t want to be late for din-din.”
15
EXEUNT
“Ah, Grace,” said the captain. He and Mosh Zu were standing together in the corridor. They both turned as she and Olivier approached. “I’m returning to The Nocturne,” he went on. “But of course, I wanted to say goodbye in person.”
Grace smiled up at him, but she felt suddenly nervous. She hadn’t expected him to leave so soon. Part of her yearned to go with him. Of course, there was no question of her leaving Lorcan, but The Nocturne had become her new home. She was intrigued by Sanctuary, but it was not a comfortable place to her. Not yet. And she was impressed by Mosh Zu, but he was not the captain. He could never take the captain’s place.
“It’s okay,” he said, a smile seeming to form across the mesh of his mask. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m leaving you in good company. I wish I could stay longer but I must return to the ship.”
Grace nodded. She understood. Of course she did. She remembered Darcy’s words: “It’s very rare for the captain to leave the ship. It shows how much he cares for Lieutenant Furey that he would take this risk.”
“And don’t you worry,” Mosh Zu said to the captain. “We shall take very good care of Grace and Lorcan.”
“Would you like me to guide you back down the mountain?” Olivier asked. “I can fetch one of the mules if you’d like?”
The captain shook his head. “You’ve very kind, Olivier, but I always enjoy the walk. Besides, as usual, Mosh Zu has given me much to think about.”
Mosh Zu smiled self-effacingly.
“Well —” the captain began.
At that moment, they heard footsteps and then a cry. They all looked up along the corridor and found Shanti hurtling toward them at warp speed. She just about managed to come to a standstill before she could cause a mass pileup in the corridor.
“Shanti!” the captain said. “It’s good to see you. I’m just leaving to return to the ship.”
“Take me with you!” she cried.
“But Shanti —” began the captain.
“Take me with you! Please, you have to take me with you! I hate it here! It’s a loathsome place!” With each sentence, her voice became shriller and shriller.
“Please,” Mosh Zu said. “Try to calm down. Tell us what’s wrong . . .”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” she shrieked. “Horrors! Such horrors! I hate that donors’ block. I won’t stay here! I won’t!”
The captain stepped forward. “Shanti, I’m very sorry if something’s upset you, but surely you want to stay here so that you can be with Lorcan.”
“I won’t stay here a minute longer,” she responded hysterically. “I won’t!”
“But Lorcan needs you,” Grace said. “I know you’re scared, but you have to face these fears. For Lorcan’s sake.”
“Why?” Shanti turned on Grace, her voice full of rage now as well as fear. “Why must I suffer so for Lorcan? We had no need to come here. We were fine on that ship. Until you came along. It’s your fault we’re here. For you, he went out into the light. That’s when all his problems started. Actually, no, they started the day you came onto the ship!”
“Shanti!” said the captain. “There’s no need to be so aggressive to Grace.”
“It’s no problem,” Grace said. “She’s already tried to kill me this morning. I can take a few insults.”
The two girls stood before each other, Grace now as angry as Shanti. “You’re so selfish,” she said. “All we’re asking is that you stay here and help us persuade Lorcan to take blood again . . .”
“Not just blood,” Shanti said. “My blood! My blood, you hear me? How dare you presume to get involved with this. If you really cared about Lorcan, you’d give him your own blood. But no, instead you act high and mighty like you’re something special.” She was warming to her theme now. “And the worst thing is, they believe you. They
listen to you . . . they think you’re special. But I don’t count for anything, not anything.” Now she broke down in sobs.
Once more, the captain stepped forward. “Shanti, you do count. You are vital to Lorcan’s recovery.”
Shanti shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I mean him no harm — but I can’t stay here. You’ve asked a lot of me. But this is too much. Too much, I tell you. Take me with you, Captain. Please take me with you!”
With that, she threw herself at the captain and, clinging on to him, broke into loud sobs that caused her small body to vibrate. Grace wasn’t sure she had ever seen anyone in such distress.
The captain looked at Mosh Zu. “I think I had better take her back to the ship.”
“You know the implications of that,” Mosh Zu said.
The captain nodded. “I’ll find a way to make this right,” he said.
Mosh Zu frowned and shook his head. “What did I tell you before? You take too much upon yourself.”
“I really don’t see any alternative,” the captain said.
“So you’ll do it?” Shanti said, her eyes brightening. “You’ll take me with you?”
“Yes, child.” The captain nodded. “Now fetch your things. We must go.”
“I’m not worried about my things,” Shanti said. “Let’s just leave!”
“All right,” the captain said, as if comforting a small child. “All right. We’ll go right now.” He looked up at the others. “Olivier, if you would just open the gates for us?”
Olivier nodded. He began walking briskly along the corridor. The captain and Shanti followed.
Grace couldn’t believe her ears. She could understand Shanti’s fears but how could she abandon Lorcan like this? And how could the captain let her?
“Your head is raging with questions,” Mosh Zu said.
“Yes.” Grace turned to him when the others had gone.
“Walk with me, Grace,” Mosh Zu said. “Let me try to answer them as best I can.”
“How could she abandon Lorcan like that?” Grace asked.
Mosh Zu shook his head. “That’s not what you’re really asking. You’re worried about Lorcan. You’re thinking, how will he survive without his donor?”
“Yes.” Grace nodded. Of course, that was exactly what she was thinking.
“We can deal with that,” Mosh Zu said. “For now, we need simply to get Lorcan drinking again. But you’re right, in due course we will have to find him another donor, at least for the time he is here, but possibly on a more permanent basis.” He turned to Grace. “The relationship between a vampire and a donor is complex. You can’t switch them around every five minutes.”
As they walked on toward Mosh Zu’s meditation room, Grace remembered her offer to the captain — that she become Lorcan’s donor. It wasn’t an offer she had made lightly and she had been relieved that it hadn’t been necessary at the time. But perhaps it was now. If so, she would do it. She’d do anything to help Lorcan. Even that.
They had reached the meditation room. Mosh Zu pushed open the door and gestured for Grace to follow him inside. “Please sit down,” he said. “Perhaps you would like some tea to soothe your frayed nerves?”
Grace shook her head. “No,” she said. “No, I’m all right.” Then she jumped up. “I’ll do it,” she said. “I’ll become Lorcan’s donor. I’ll do anything to help him.”
“Yes.” Mosh Zu nodded. “I believe you.” He sat down on the cushions. “Grace, I appreciate this offer. I know that it is heartfelt. I also know that you understand the implications of what you are offering . . .”
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
“But Grace, I think you have much more to give. I’ve said before, you have a talent for healing. If you were to become Lorcan’s donor, your life would be more limited.”
Grace smiled and shook her head. “How would it be limited? I’d be immortal.”
Mosh Zu nodded. “Always one step ahead,” he said. “Yes, you would be immortal, but do not confuse immortality with being free of limits. It’s much more complicated than that.”
But Grace was warming to her theme. “I remember what you said,” she went on. “You talked about immortality as a gift. Perhaps the greatest gift of all, you said.”
His sharp eyes examined her. “For a vampire, yes. But for a donor, things are not quite the same.”
“What do you mean?”
“The relationship between a vampire and a donor is interdependent. You understand that, of course?”
She nodded. “As long as the vampire takes the donor’s blood, the donor remains ageless.”
“Yes,” he said. “And you’ve seen what happens when that bond is broken.”
“You mean, how rapidly Shanti is aging?”
“Yes. The captain was wrong. It would have been much better if he had not let Shanti go with him.”
“But you said Lorcan would be all right,” Grace said, beginning to panic again.
“Lorcan will be all right. We will find a donor for him. But I’m afraid that Shanti’s future is less clear . . .”
Grace suddenly saw what he meant. “Without a vampire feeding on her, Shanti will continue to age fast. Until . . .”
Mosh Zu nodded. By leaving Sanctuary, Shanti had effectively signed her own death warrant. And the captain had allowed her to do so.
“How could he?” she asked Mosh Zu.
“The captain was, as usual, acting out of exemplary motives,” Mosh Zu said. “He didn’t want to see Shanti so distressed. None of us did. And I suspect, too, that he thinks her presence here could cause Lorcan further tension. He knows that we can find other sources of blood.”
“But I still don’t understand why he let her go with him,” Grace said.
Mosh Zu looked very serious. “The captain always thinks he can save them,” he said. “That’s the problem. He always thinks he can save everyone. But I’m worried about him, Grace. All this is taking its toll upon him. Things are changing fast in our world. You’ve seen the rebellions. This is only the beginning. We must be strong. We must prepare ourselves. But the captain does not see this. He is full of goodness, but he gives too much of himself away. Just when he needs to be growing stronger, he allows himself to grow weak.”
Grace was stunned to hear such things. She had always thought of the captain as a heroic figure, utterly without flaws and weak points. To hear him described as being so vulnerable was disconcerting.
“You must not speak of these things with the others,” Mosh Zu said. “Not even with Lorcan or Olivier. Not anyone.”
“No,” she said. “I understand.”
“I’m talking to you,” Mosh Zu said, “as one healer to another. You and I have much in common.”
Grace was flabbergasted and deeply humbled. “But I have so much to learn,” she said.
“We all do,” Mosh Zu said. “And we had all better learn fast.”
16
THE EMPEROR
“We’ve come,” said Molucco, “to propose a raid.”
Immediately Barbarro became alert with interest. Spearing the last of his steak, foie gras, and caviar, he inquired simply, “A raid?”
“Your crew and mine,” Molucco continued. “The Typhon and The Diablo. Working together, just like the old days.”
Connor noticed that Trofie had set down her cutlery and was listening intently, her face resting gently on folded hands. “Do you have a specific ship in mind?” she asked.
Molucco smiled at this. “Not a ship,” he said. “Something a little more unusual.” He paused and took a draught of wine.
“Well?” urged Barbarro. “Spit it out, brother. The plan, that is, not my vintage claret!”
Completely composed, Molucco turned toward Cate and gave her a nod. At this sign, she snapped open the case Connor had been carrying for her and began unrolling a large map. Connor and Bart rose from their seats and took hold of the corners of the paper.
“The Sunset Fort,” Cate announced
. “Location: Rajasthan, India.” With the tip of her épée she lightly tapped the map to mark its position.
Moonshine yawned. He was still working his way through a mound of pizza and chicken wings that he had been served in preference to the meal the others were eating.
Trofie smiled sweetly at Cate. “Thank you for the geography lesson, min elskling, but I think we’re all well aware of the Sunset Fort.”
“Excellent.” Cate nodded, unfazed. “Then you’ll know that it was built in the 1640s by Prince Yashodhan for his wife Savarna.”
“Ted-i-ous!” muttered Moonshine. Then “Ouch!” as if someone had perhaps kicked him under the table. Sneering, he reached for another chicken wing.
Trofie smiled sweetly at Cate once more. “Actually,” Trofie said, “Yashodhan built Savarna two palace forts. One to watch the sunrise, the other to view the sunset.”
Connor raised his hand.
“Yes, Connor,” Cate said.
“Question,” said Connor. “Why two palaces? Couldn’t they have watched the sun rise and set from the same fort?”
Trofie laughed at this and shook her head.
“Mor-on,” mumbled Moonshine, just loudly enough so that Connor could hear.
Barbarro grinned. “Only a young boy, a boy who has not yet known true love, could pose such a question.” He placed his hand over Trofie’s golden fingers. “Why, I’d build a palace for every hour of the day — no, every minute — to honor my dear wife.”
Trofie beamed. “Don’t give me ideas, min elskling,” she said, before planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Of course,” said Cate, “the palace has quite a different occupant now.” Everyone’s attention turned back toward her. “The Sunset Fort has long ceased to be an ancestral home. For centuries, it was abandoned, and many of its peripheral buildings fell into disrepair. But the core structure remained sound and today the fort has a new resident. He calls himself merely the Emperor.”
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