A Grimoire for the Baron

by Eon de Beaumont

  “You don’t know me.” Querry’s voice rose as he drew his sword. “You’ve got less than no right to judge how I’ve lived my life.”

  “I know your type. Thinking you’ve had it so hard, using that to justify doing anything you want. You have no idea what hardship is, you whining brat. You’ve never seen war. I heard all about you, back in Halcyon, gamboling about with your grubby faerie mates. You’re a traitor to your own kind. And don’t think I don’t know what you and your pretty little friends get up to when you’re alone. So yeah, you might say I have a few small issues with you being here.”

  Words couldn’t express Querry’s anger. He lifted his blade and cut an X in the air before him, challenging the larger man with his eyes. He’d show the bastard how worthless he was while he knocked the teeth out of his smug mouth. How dare this prick insult Reggie and Frolic?

  The big, bronzed mercenary threw his head back and laughed with his mouth open. “A feisty little piece of street trash, aren’t we?”

  “Shut your mouth and find out, if you’ve got the stones,” Querry said.

  One of the brothers slapped their commander’s shoulder, and the mercenary leader grew serious as he drew a simple, sturdy sword of his own. He and Querry took a few steps back, raising and crossing their blades. The man thrust, and Querry parried. The rain beat down on them as they stared into each other’s faces. Querry feigned an attack, waited for his opponent to block, and used the distraction to kick out with his right leg, sweeping the other’s feet from beneath him and smiling as the larger man’s backside smacked hard against the waterlogged wood of the deck.

  Instead of pressing his advantage, Querry retreated a few feet, knowing it would insult and incense his adversary. This man might be a soldier, and a seasoned one, but Querry had fought for every scrap of sustenance since he’d been old enough to stand. He waited for the mercenary to get to his feet.

  “A lucky strike,” the man growled.

  “Sure. If that makes you feel better.”

  With a roar, the big man rushed Querry, clearly planning to tackle him to the ground. While he didn’t possess his enemy’s bulk or raw strength, Querry was quick and agile. He stepped to the side at the last moment, and the other man pitched forward. Spinning on the ball of his foot, Querry moved behind him and kicked him hard in the bum, sending him sprawling on the deck. Some other sailors who’d been attracted by the noise cheered a little. Querry glowed as he waited for the prick to get up, so he could knock him down again.

  “None of us are getting any younger,” Querry taunted as his opponent pushed himself up on his hands and knees. “Especially not you, old man.”

  “You little son of a whore!”

  “You think I don’t know it? I’m not ashamed of what I am, what I’ve chosen to be. I’m bloody well better than you, after all. No matter who my mother was.”

  “We’ll see.” The mercenary raised his sword and brought it down in a sharp angle across Querry’s waist.

  Querry jumped backward just in time. He felt the current of air as the steel passed so close to his skin. Without thinking, he brought his foot between the other man’s legs, hard. When his opponent crumpled to cradle his wounded goods, Querry circled around him and trapped his throat inside the crook of his arm.

  “Tell me again how useless I am, you old tosser.”

  “Get your filthy hands off me, you dirty little, faerie-loving fa—”

  Querry squeezed hard enough to strangle the hated insult. “As soon as you admit I’ve won. Go on, you toe-rag. Say the pretty boy, faerie-loving thief bested you. Be man enough to admit it.”

  “This isn’t over. Mark my words.”

  “I’m shaking with fear,” Querry said.

  “You won’t have time to shake, you little girl. You’ll never see me coming.”

  “Really?” Querry tightened his grip on the other man’s throat until he gagged and sputtered. “I dare you to try. Sneaking up on a thief isn’t as easy as you might imagine, mate. And you’d be surprised at the nasty things I learned from my time with the fey. They almost make humans look civilized.”

  The mercenary’s face purpled, and he went limp beneath Querry. Just as Querry prepared to release him, not wanting to cause actual harm, something strange happened.

  The rain stopped abruptly. Querry had become so accustomed to the relentless rhythm of the downpour that he noticed its absence instantly. The squabble suddenly forgotten, he released his opponent in the wake of the weird silence. He stumbled back as the other man regained his breath and stood. The clouds retreated for a moment but returned immediately, doubling and congealing like the blood of the sky, the light that filtered through those bizarre clouds was oddly colored and unsettling. The waves tossing the ship stilled, and it stood motionless on calm waters. Querry barely felt balanced on the stable deck, as he’d become so familiarized with its rocking. He also noticed he wasn’t nauseous at all anymore. Another feeling filled his stomach: dread.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, with nothing but the distant call of sea birds to join him in breaking the silence.

  Slowly, all of the crew came above to investigate the strange stillness. Laborers and sailors looked about, whispering in Thalacean, and pulling various religious talismans from beneath their shirts. Most of them, while submitting to the church, still held a firm belief in the old gods of their land, the gods of sunlight, thunder, and the sea. Of course the sailors revered Neptus in particular, and many of them called out to their patron god. The mariners tried desperately to get the ship moving. In some way Querry couldn’t articulate, the odd, warm light glinting off the still, blue water disturbed him more than the perpetual rain had. He put his sword away in favor of the clockwork pistol Frolic had made him. As long as his arm from elbow to fingertips, the gun could fire a dozen times, reload automatically, and fire a dozen more. Looking down the thick barrel, Querry scanned around. He found no target, of course, only confused sailors standing beneath a calm, yet overcast sky. Why did it feel so wrong?

  “Get down to the engine room,” a man, maybe the first mate, said as he moved toward the hatch. Half a dozen men hurried to obey. “I want all the power we can squeeze out of this tub. The rest of you, hoist the sails.”

  “But’s there’s no wind, sir.”

  “Do what I say, damn it.”

  As they unfurled the canvas, Tom Teezle emerged from Lord Starling’s cabin. Unlike everyone else, he seemed calm, maybe a little amused.

  “What’s going on, Tom?” Querry asked, hoping the fragile bond they’d formed earlier might yield something.

  The faerie cocked his head, and his eyes narrowed at Querry. “Don’t you have the sight? I thought for sure someone had kissed your eyes. Was I wrong?”

  “No, but I can’t always use it. It comes and goes.”

  “You should work on that,” Tom said. “Now would be a very good time to start.”

  “What do you mean?” Querry grasped Tom’s slender shoulder and stepped closer, almost bumping into his chest.

  The fey raised his fine, golden eyebrows and smiled suggestively. “I must be very careful what I say, even down to the words I choose. You understand.”

  Querry looked past him to see Starling in the doorway, leaning against the frame with nothing but a formal, black, tailed coat, lined with red satin covering his bare torso. Though very decadent with his billowy trousers, it almost matched. He glared at his servant.

  Tom spun on the ball of his foot. “Is there something you require, my lord?”

  “An explanation, Tom. Why have we stopped?”

  “You wish for me to tell you right now, sir?”

  “Obviously,” Starling snapped. “Speak.”

  “Very well. If that’s what you want.” Tom couldn’t keep the delight from spilling out in his tone any more than the clouds could hold in the rain. “The others, my people, are trying to impede you. You well knew they would.”

  “What the hell? Do you mean faeries are trying
to stop us? And you knew they would? You knew, and didn’t say anything to the rest of us? Damn it, you let me bring Reg and Frolic into something like this?” Querry stalked past Tom and seized Starling’s lapel with the hand not clutching desperately to his gun.

  “Take your hands off me, Querry.”

  “No! Not until you explain exactly—”

  “No, now.” Starling flicked his wrist, and an invisible force knocked Querry back. He stumbled to stay on his feet as his boots skidded across the deck. “Don’t ever lay your hands on me again. Understood?”

  “Don’t order me around like a child, Starling! That magic doesn’t make you invincible.”

  “Your contract does, at least in this case. Cause me harm or hinder me, and you and your clockwork friend will perish.”

  Querry curled his lips and prepared a retort, but he never got to voice it. Reg, Frolic, and Cornelia burst from the hatch.

  “Somebody, do something!” the tinkerer yelled, waving a wrench almost the size of an oar. “They’re destroying the engines.”

  “Who?” Starling demanded.

  Her face reddened, and she stuttered. “I—them—those men. The sailors. They’ll tear everything to pieces. Bloody, bloody hell!”

  “Somebody stop them!” Starling hollered. “You men! Get down there and find out the meaning of this.”

  None of the crewmen moved. Most of them stood looking over the rails, out to sea, as if transfixed. No matter how much the baron blustered, they wouldn’t stir, not even when he shook them or slapped their faces. Horrible sounds, banging, screeching, and grinding came from below. Soon, black smoke poured from the hatch. The steady sound of the engine grew irregular and then stopped.

  Cornelia covered her face with her big hands. “Oh, those beautiful engines. Damn it all. I’ll stop them myself.” She lumbered toward the portal but stopped suddenly. “What is that music? Oh, isn’t it lovely? Isn’t it just the loveliest thing you ever heard?” She swayed to the tempo of her private serenade, her eyes glazing over. The enormous wrench clattered against the deck. Just then, one of the sailors climbed up on the rail, spread his arms, and leapt overboard with a joyous whoop.

  Frolic turned to Tom. “Are you doing this?”

  “Why would you think that?” The fey looked little more interested than if he watched the men swabbing the deck or adjusting the riggings.

  “I saw one of you make people destroy something once,” Frolic said, his eyes on his boots. “Is that what you’re doing? Can you do that?”

  “Well, had I the freedom to do so, I certainly could. That isn’t to say I would, or I am—”

  “Tom, come with me,” Starling snapped. “Be ready. We have to save the engines by any means necessary. They’re crucial to our mission. You and I will stop those men.” He caught the fey by the elbow and dragged him toward the ladder leading below.

  Querry swore. He looked around for a place to send Reg and Frolic, a place they’d be safe. Two more men dove into the sea, while a group of others tore at the sails and managed to shred their edges with their bare hands.

  “Stay here,” Querry said to his friends. Frolic bobbed his head, his small hand on the hilt of his sword. Reg, though, stared off at the horizon, his gentle, hazel eyes unfocused as he hummed softly to himself. “Watch him,” Querry told Frolic. “Don’t let him go off under any circumstances.”

  Frolic nodded his understanding and grasped Reg’s hand. Querry ran to the starboard side of the ship and looked into the sea. He saw nothing but calm water, eerily calm, like a sheet of blue glass. He heard another splash, probably another sailor jumping into the surf. Somewhere, at the very edges of his perception, Querry felt the resonance of the music, though he couldn’t hear it exactly. He felt it in his guts, in his bones, the vibration moving rhythmically through his body, creating a sensation akin to arousal and making him desperate for more. Down there, in the water, he’d find it. He needed to get down there. Nothing else mattered—

  No! I’ve dealt with this before. My gentleman always made me feel this way, but I resisted him. Mostly. I can resist now. Nobody and nothing tells me what to do, damn it. He shook his head. He had to figure out what the hell was going on, so he’d know how to protect Reg and Frolic. Behind him, Reg screamed, and Frolic said soothing words Querry couldn’t quite make out amidst the cacophony. Something on the deck caught fire, and some of the men brawled, others skipped, danced, and twirled around, while still others sought bliss and oblivion in the watery depths.

  Querry drew a shattered breath and fumbled around for the gift his gentleman had left him. Something shook loose in his mind. He felt satisfied, as if he’d heard a lock click open. His vision changed, going blurry for a second before becoming excruciatingly clear. He saw the grain in the wood, every scuff on the deck, every fiber in the ropes. Gossamer, glowing threads of magic lay over the ship like a delicate net. Some of the bluish-white ribbons wrapped around the sailors, while others spiraled chaotically into, or maybe out of, the sea and sky. When he looked out across the water, Querry saw them: lithe, androgynous creatures with milky skin, bright eyes, and blue and green hair that lay across the surface of the ocean in intricate loops and curls. Their otherworldly beauty just made Querry want to reach them more, but he stamped the strong desire down. He saw at least a dozen of the beings on the starboard side alone.

  “Let go of me, Frolic! I don’t want to stay with you anymore. Why are you keeping me from being happy? You and Querry never give a damn about what I want. You’re selfish. Let me go!”

  “No, Reggie. You don’t mean it.”

  Querry turned and sprinted across the deck, past the scuffling sailors, past the burning main mast, to where Frolic stood behind Reg, holding Reg’s wrists behind his back.

  “Frolic! Can you see it?” Chords of magic twined around Reg’s limbs like creeping vines, moving over his body, wrapping around him until they nearly covered every inch of his skin. Querry drew his sword and swiped at them, but of course it did no good. He had an idea.

  “It’s everywhere, Querry,” Frolic cried, clearly straining to keep hold of Reg. “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

  “They haven’t got us yet, beauty. Use your sword. Cut Reggie free.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” Querry lied. Frolic’s blade held some sort of enchantment. It chimed musically when he wielded it, and Querry often wondered if it was faerie-made. Something told him this would work, but he held his breath as Frolic released Reg and drew his weapon. As soon as he got free, Reg bolted for the railing. Querry dove, tackled him, and drove the wind from him as they hit the deck. Reg thrashed and swore, but Querry held him firmly as Frolic swung at the magical bonds. At first nothing happened, and Querry felt an encroaching despair. Then, slowly, the arcane fibers pulled apart where Frolic’s sword passed through them and disintegrated, leaving behind only some sparkles, which soon dissipated into the ether. Querry exhaled.

  Reg gasped, and his eyes darted back and forth as if he’d woken up in a strange and unexpected place. Querry kissed him hard, not caring who saw, and pushed the sweaty fringe out of his eyes.

  “Reggie, just stay down. Please,” Querry said.

  “But—what’s going on? I feel like I’ve been in the brandy—” Reg’s gaze searched the deck. “It’s the song, isn’t it? It’s driving us all mad.”

  “Reg, I need you to trust me. Stay here. Do you understand?”

  “All right, Querry.” Though he agreed, Reg didn’t look happy. “But we have to block the music or it will take me again!”

  Querry didn’t have time to comfort him; he’d make it up to him later. He stood, looking for Frolic, ready to tell Frolic to use his weapon on the rest of the mystic threads. Frolic knew what to do. Before Querry could say a word, Frolic ran to the nearest sailor and lifted his blade. Men returned to lucidity as he cut them free. Reg, wool stuffed in his ears, followed Frolic with a sack of the fluffy white material stamped with the logo of a Libertani
an trading company, helping the freed sailors. Briefly, Querry decided they’d found it in the storeroom along with the other goods Starling carried as chattel, to trade for supplies when they reached their destination. The crew was lucky his friends thought so quickly. Still, the sea faeries—Querry could comprehend them no other way—continued to weave their enchantment, replacing the shimmering ribbons faster than Frolic could sever them. The threads shifted from serene blue to angry, pulsing red.

  One sailor, tangled in the malign enchantment, turned to Querry and smiled. That smile held madness and hunger. A growl grew faintly in the man’s throat until he launched himself into the air at one of the crew members protected with cotton. To Querry’s surprise and disgust, the ensorcelled man bit into the flesh of his shipmate, clawing at the protective material in the man’s ears. The wool dislodged, and the second sailor screeched and clawed his way from his attacker, turning on another sailor. Querry knew magic came as naturally to fey as breath; they wouldn’t tire out or run dry of sorcery. They had to be stopped before the crew tore each other to pieces.

  Aiming his weapon and looking down the sights, Querry prepared to fire. He hated the idea of harming the beautiful creatures; fey had always treated him with more esteem than his human brethren. They respected craft, and a pleasing appearance, over wealth and titles. Querry couldn’t take the shot. Despite the carnage blossoming on the deck behind him, he couldn’t make his finger pull the trigger.

  From the corner of his eye, Querry watched Frolic run and dive on the tinkerer, Cornelia. Frolic pinned her large form beneath his small body as he cut the chords surrounding her, while Reg wadded wool into her ears. When she came back to herself, she pressed Frolic’s face against her ample bosom and kissed the top of his head. Both of them giggled. Then she stood, found her wrench, and looked about for something to pummel. She didn’t have to look too long. One of the feral members of the crew lunged at her. She just managed to get her wrench up, preventing the madman from tearing out her throat. Cornelia batted the man away, striking him in the side of the head, and he fell unconscious. Reg tossed her the bag of wool, and she assumed his duties assisting Frolic, swatting the possessed away from them with ease.