“The Emperor?” Barbarro was clearly intrigued. “The Emperor of where?”
Cate shook her head. “He’s not an emperor in the conventional sense. He has no empire, beyond the fort itself. Nor does he seek one. He isn’t interested in power as such. He isn’t even interested in people. He’s a collector of treasures. They’re his whole world. Prince Yashodhan filled his fort with treasure to express his feelings for the lovely Savarna. But the Emperor loves only his treasures. He has spent his life amassing them from all over the world. It’s an extremely rare and valuable collection. Pieces of art that were assumed to have vanished in the flood have somehow ended up there. Once, they were displayed in museums, art galleries, and the homes of the wealthy. Now, they are hidden from view within the fort’s vault . . .”
“I see where you’re going with this,” said Barbarro. “A raid on the fort! I like it!”
Cate nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, you’re on the map now. Okay, so do you want the good news or the bad?”
Barbarro pondered for a moment. “Let’s get the bad news out the way.”
Cate nodded. “Originally the Sunset Fort was built, like its twin palace, on a high hilltop. However, when the floods came, four centuries ago, the waters rose. Today, the palace fort is surrounded by water on all sides. It used to be an arduous climb to its base. Now, the fort is almost level with the sea.”
“All the better to reach by ship,” said Barbarro.
“In principle, yes,” Cate agreed. “But it’s no easy voyage. The seas surrounding the fort are rough and subject to rogue waves. Many other pirate crews have tried to get to the fort and almost all have come to grief before even reaching the palace gates.”
“It would take the very strongest of ships — and the most talented of sailors — to brave such waters,” Molucco said.
“I hear you, brother,” said Barbarro, his eyes aflame. “This is a job for the Wrathes, and no mistake.”
Cate nodded. “The ocean was the first piece of bad news, but there’s more. The vault at the Sunset Fort is one of the most inaccessible ever built. Well, Prince Yashodhan didn’t want anyone making off with the treasures he amassed for his beloved Savarna. The impregnable nature of the vault is one of the reasons why the Emperor chose the fort for himself. And, of course, the vault is now protected at all times by the Emperor’s elite security force.”
“We can expect a colossal fight, then?” Barbarro said. “I’m not sure about this.” The others turned, surprised at his change of heart. “I don’t shirk a good fight,” he went on, “but this sounds like an impossible situation. Even if we manage to break into the fort and, by some skill and fortune, conquer this security force, we’ve still got to get the treasures and get out of there.” He frowned. “Unless I’m missing something?”
Cate smiled. “You asked me to save the good news. Well, here it is! We’re not going to have to break into the fort and we’re not going to have to fight the security force. Indeed, they’re going to help us.”
“I don’t understand,” said Barbarro. “Does the Emperor have a rebellion on his hands?”
“How long is this riveting discussion going to go on for?” Moonshine moaned, tossing the last of his chicken bones over his shoulder. Immediately the butler stepped forward and removed the offending items with a gloved hand. Moonshine yawned again. “And when are we getting dessert?”
Connor glared at Moonshine. He’d like nothing more than to give him his just desserts.
“Be quiet, Moonshine!” snapped Barbarro, also clearly frustrated by his son’s interruptions. “Go on, Cate, we’re all listening.”
“With the latest rise in sea level, the Sunset Fort has ceased to be a safe harbor for the Emperor and his treasures. The vault itself is in imminent danger of flooding. The Emperor has resisted taking action for as long as he possibly can. He loves the fort for its isolation. But now, he faces the possibility that one single rogue wave will wipe out his refuge and all he holds dear.”
“And so . . . ,” Trofie snapped her fingers, “he’s moving!”
“Exactly.” Cate grinned.
“And I’ll bet I know where he’s going,” Trofie said. “To the Sunrise Fort.”
“Bingo!” Cate nodded, her eyes bright with excitement. “As you know, the Sunrise Fort was built on somewhat higher ground. The Emperor and his treasures should be safe there, at least for the rest of his lifetime.”
“I still don’t understand,” said Barbarro. “Where do we fit into all this?”
“Isn’t it obvious, min elskling?” Trofie glanced toward her husband. “This Emperor has to transport his goodies from the Sunset Fort to the Sunrise Fort . . .”
Barbarro still looked confused, so Cate continued. “He’s hired a top-level security company to ship his goods from A to B, or from Sunset to Sunrise, if you like,” she said. “He’s paying them top dollar to ensure the safety of his treasures.”
“I see,” Barbarro said, smiling once more. “We’re going to intercept the moving company as it travels from one fort to the next.”
“Not exactly,” said Cate.
Barbarro and Trofie looked at her in equal confusion.
With a light cough, Molucco stood up to deliver the coup de grâce. Beaming, he announced, “We’re not going to intercept the moving company because we are the moving company.” Turning to Connor and Bart, he gave them a nod. “If you would, lads.”
The boys lifted an onyx casket onto the table. Molucco took a small key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. With a light click, the casket opened and the room was suddenly suffused with light. Inside the casket was a nest of round, brilliant-cut diamonds, which caught the candlelight and reflected it back from every perfect facet.
“Such beautiful diamonds,” Trofie said, her hand already outstretched, as if the casket were a magnet, drawing her toward it. The length of her arm shimmered silver in the light of the gems.
“Impressive, aren’t they?” Molucco grinned. “It’s the Emperor’s first down payment,” he said. “We’re hired!”
“What do you think?” The captain of The Typhon turned to his deputy.
Trofie considered for only a moment. “Doesn’t the Emperor own that diamond-encrusted skull?” she said. “I’ve always dreamed of adding that to my collection.” She paused. “Let’s do it!”
Barbarro turned back to Molucco. “It’s an audacious plan, brother,” he said. “And we’re in.” He snapped his fingers. “Transom, let’s open some more champagne. We must toast to our success in this venture.”
There was great excitement among the group as everyone began talking over one another.
“I just hope it turns out better than Cate’s last plan,” said Moonshine. Somehow, his voice cut through the hubbub.
“Button it, Moonshine,” snapped Barbarro.
“What’s that?” Molucco asked.
“I was just saying I hope that Cate’s strategy this time proves more successful than when you attacked The Albatross. That was a bit of a foul-up, to say the least.”
Cate blushed fiercely. Molucco looked dumbstruck. Trofie frowned. Barbarro was incandescent with rage. “Go to your cabin, Moonshine!” he roared. “Now!”
Even Moonshine seemed a little taken aback by his father’s fury. Ever the PR woman, Trofie smiled. “That’s a good idea,” she said. “Darling, why don’t you take Connor and show him all your lovely things?”
“Whatever.” Moonshine shrugged, stomping out of the dining room.
Connor turned to follow him. As he did so, he heard Trofie hiss at her husband, “Happy families, remember? We don’t want Molucco thinking anything but good thoughts about Moonshine. After all, min elskling, he is the heir to everything.”
“Right now, I’d sooner Molucco’s fortune passed to that Tempest lad,” Barbarro snarled.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” Trofie whispered icily. “Moonshine is the rightful heir. That boy is nothing to us.”
Connor wondered if she k
new he could hear her. She suddenly seemed to become aware of his presence and turned around, her perfect smile in place.
“Are you still here, min elskling? Hurry along now. Moonshine is waiting for you, and we adults have many important family matters to discuss.”
17
THE WELCOME
“Hi! It’s me, Grace. Can I come in?” She pushed open the door.
“Grace!” said Lorcan, stretching after his lengthy sleep. It was now past dusk. “Of course you can come in,” he said, sitting up. “How are you tonight?”
“I’m all right,” she said, hoping that she sounded convincing. The last thing she could face was bringing Lorcan up to speed on the tense scenes that had preceded the captain’s — and Shanti’s — departure. “More importantly, how are you?” she asked brightly.
“None too shabby,” he said. “I slept really well. Much better than I can remember. Maybe there’s something special in the air up here!”
“Talking of air,” she said, “maybe we can get you out and about later?”
“Do you think it’s allowed?” Lorcan asked, surprised.
“This isn’t a prison,” she said. “It’s a place of healing. I’m sure it’s fine to go outside for some air. If you want to.”
“Maybe later,” he said.
Nodding, Grace sat down on the bed. As she did, she realized she was in danger of crushing a sheet of paper.
“What’s this?” she asked, pulling a card from underneath her and taking it in her hands. “There’s some sort of card here. Did you know it was here?”
“Oh, yes,” Lorcan remembered. “Olivier left it for me before. He said it’s some kind of welcome message. He offered to read it to me but I was too tired before.” He grinned. “Besides, I thought you might read it to me. I have a fonder liking for your voice.”
“Of course,” Grace said, smiling. Lorcan had a knack for making her feel better. All thoughts of Shanti began to recede. She picked up the card and began to read . . .
Welcome, wandering soul. Welcome to Sanctuary.
Everything you think you know is about to change.
You think you are a limited being. But you are no more limited than the sky or ocean.
You think there is only one path. There are many paths.
You think you cannot change. You can change.
You think you are too weary to continue your journey. You are about to regain the energy you need. You will never feel weary again.
You think the best times are behind you. The best times are spread out before you like the most beautiful of gardens.
You think that your existence is empty. We will enable you to fill that void.
Your time of wandering is over. At least, it can be. The choice lies within you. The fact you have made your way here — no easy or regular journey — tells me that you want to change.
You will be amazed at the changes you can make here. Now, you may feel chained to a hunger which never seems to cease but only demands more. You may feel lost in an endless cycle of hunting and hungering. This cycle produces a thick fog that prevents you from seeing what lies beyond it. You may fear there is no other way. There is another way. We will remove the fog and open your eyes. Prepare to see things very differently.
There are three stages to your treatment here. There is no fixed time period for each stage or for your treatment as a whole. There are no expectations for you to fulfill. Stay as long as you wish to. Take as long as you need. Do not concern yourself with how quickly or how slowly others pass through the treatment phases. Allow yourself to progress at the pace that is right for you.
The gates of Sanctuary are never closed. They welcome whoever needs to come here. Equally, you may leave at any time. When things get tough — and they will get tough — you may be tempted to leave. Your treatment will make intense physical, mental, and emotional demands upon you. These challenges may seem greater than any you have faced before — in life, in death, or beyond. Know that you are up to these challenges. Embrace the struggle. You will be stronger for it. Be assured that the time of struggle will come to an end.
You may feel that you are a very long way from being human. However long it is since you crossed, remind yourself that once you were human. Cling to the best of what we might term human traits while learning how to accept and nurture the rest of what you are.
There is greatness within you. Learn to recognize it.
There is peace within you. Learn to nurture it.
There is another way. You are about to discover it.
Many arrive here feeling that they have been given a terrible burden to carry. We will show you that you have been granted not a burden but a wonderful gift. Perhaps it is the most wonderful gift of all. Be prepared to unwrap it.
Mosh Zu Kamal
Grace felt quite emotional as she finished reading. She carefully set down the card on Lorcan’s nightstand.
“Well, that’s a lot to think about,” Lorcan said.
“Yes.” Grace nodded. She reached for Lorcan’s hand and held it in her own. “This is a strange place, but I think you’ll find the help you need here. Mosh Zu seems like an extraordinary . . . man.”
Lorcan nodded.
“And I’m sure,” Grace said, “I’m sure that if anyone can help you, he can.”
18
MOONSHINE’S LAIR
“My cabin’s at the bottom of the ship,” Moonshine said, as he led the way back along the corridor to the main staircase, which plunged down through the center of The Typhon. “Ordinarily, the VIP cabins are on the top deck, but I wanted one down in the depths. And I always get my way.”
With that, he climbed onto the stair rail and let go, sliding down in ever decreasing circles. Connor watched him. In his dark clothes, Moonshine looked like a witch in flight. Connor climbed onto the stair rail himself, deciding to follow suit. The ride was brief but exhilarating. As he jumped down onto the bottom deck, he saw that Moonshine was already striding ahead toward a heavily bolted door, with so many padlocks hanging from it they looked like Christmas tree ornaments. Moonshine’s pale hands began twisting the combinations to snap open the locks.
“My parents are very security-conscious,” Moonshine said. “Besides, I really value my privacy.”
Watching the mound of opened padlocks amass on the floor beside Moonshine, Connor couldn’t help but think this was all a little extreme. But maybe, just maybe, it was justified — if the rumors that Trofie had been kidnapped were true. He wondered if he dared ask Moonshine for the truth about that — about his mother’s metallic hand. Perhaps not yet.
At last, the door opened and a heady cocktail of incense, body odor, and something animal assaulted Connor’s nostrils.
“Welcome to the underworld!” Moonshine announced, smiling as he stepped into his room. He continued without even looking at Connor. “And just so we’re clear on this, the fact that I’m letting you in here doesn’t mean we’re friends or anything dumb like that. Okay?”
“Fine by me,” Connor said. “Fine by me.”
Moonshine’s room was vast — at least as big as Molucco Wrathe’s cabin back on The Diablo. It was a room fit for a prince, and Connor supposed that that was what Moonshine was, a pirate prince. The thought of it, even without the noxious smell of the room, was enough to make him slightly nauseous.
The walls of Moonshine’s cabin were painted black. A large iron four-poster bed stood in the middle of the room. Where curtains may have hung from a regular bed, metal chains hung from this one. As the ship moved, they clanked together. The sound would have been enough to give you a headache, even without the thrash-shanty music that Moonshine had flicked on upon entering the room, and which was now turned up to the max.
Connor had developed a deep hatred of thrash-shanty, especially when played this loud. The tune — if you could call it that — sounded somewhat familiar. But then, he thought, all thrash-shanty sounded the same.
The music sorted, Moonshine sauntered ove
r to a vast pinball machine on the other side of the cabin. “Pirate Pinball,” he said over his shoulder, by way of explanation. “My dad had it made for me. It’s a one of a kind.”
Connor shrugged. Hearing Moonshine speak and seeing the bounty in his cavernous lair, he got the sense of a spoiled brat who had never been told “no” and who had been indulged with whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it.
One entire wall of the cabin was lined with shelves, which were loaded with stuff. One shelf was home to several model ships. While Moonshine lost himself in Pirate Pinball, Connor stepped closer to the shelf to take a better look at his models. They were impressively detailed and very finely painted. Connor imagined a younger, nicer Moonshine slaving away over these ships long into the night. He saw what looked to be a replica of The Typhon itself. Beside it was another, slightly larger ship. He saw its name painted in tiny red script on the side of the vessel. The Diablo. Connor reached out for it . . .
Moonshine suddenly turned. “Don’t touch . . . anything!” he cried, twisting away from the pinball machine and stomping over.
Frowning, Connor set the model ship back on its shelf. “Sorry,” he said. “But this is really good. How long did it take you to make it?”
Moonshine smiled and it was like storm clouds suddenly parting to reveal the sun. “Aw, my dad and I made that ship together. It took us a whole weekend. We got so into it, we both fell asleep with paintbrushes in our hands and Mom had to come down here with blankets so we could sleep like that . . .” He shook his head in a reverie. “Happy days!”
Connor was surprised. This was an entirely different window into Moonshine’s relationship with his dad.
But suddenly Moonshine’s beatific smile was replaced once more by his default sneer. “And if you think that’s true, Tempest, you’re a bigger sucker than I thought. Do you really think that pirate captains have time to build model ships with their sons? Yeah, right. I did it myself — with a bit of help from Transom . . .” Seeing Connor’s blank look, “Transom — our majordomo.” Connor still looked blank. “Our head servant, dummy. The guy who gave you champagne and sushi before dinner.”
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