The Scrolls of Gideon

by Sonya Bateman

  “Absolutely not.” Taeral’s voice was dangerously flat. “We are not going anywhere with you, witch.”

  Alex shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, and looked at me. “Just you and the golem, then?”

  “I, er—”

  “We are going.” A shadow fell over me as Grygg caught up and stopped just behind me. “All of us.”

  Both Taeral and Sadie looked toward him with mild shock. I had to admit, I felt the same. Grygg hadn’t said a word about this trip one way or the other, except for making sure we made arrangements for Eli. He never seemed to care about anything, really. But now there was conviction in his grinding tone.

  “Why should we do that?” Taeral said carefully, like he was worried about upsetting Grygg.

  “Because you owe me, Unseelie.”

  Damn. I hadn’t heard him call Taeral that since the first time I went to the Hive.

  Taeral paled a few shades. “Aye, so I do,” he said. And that was when I realized he must’ve made Grygg a promise at some point. I made a mental note to grill him for it later, after all the shit he’d given me about making promises. “But why do you call my favor now, for this … this fool’s errand?”

  Grygg moved forward on my other side and looked past the captain, who’d been temporarily stunned into silence, at the rippling expanse of blue-gray ocean beneath a cloudy iron sky. “I have questions,” he said. “And I feel that where we’re going, there are answers. I also feel that we need you.”

  “Fantastic. So you will force me to travel defenseless across open water with a witch, because of a feeling?”

  “No harm will come to any of us,” Grygg said, with a meaningful look at Alex. “I’ll see to that.”

  “Perhaps not. But if I’ve my way, then harm may come to her,” Taeral muttered.

  “You won’t have your way.”

  Alex cleared her throat, loudly and awkwardly. “Are you coming or not, Gideon’s brother?”

  “Apparently,” Taeral shot back.

  “Fine. Let’s go, then.” She looked Grygg up and down slowly. “Don’t know how I’m going to get you on the ship though, big guy,” she said. “I’m pretty sure my gangplank won’t hold you.”

  Grygg stared at her for a moment, and then walked past her down the dock to stop about fifteen feet away. After a brief pause, Grygg reached out and grabbed the metal railing along the side of the deck. He pulled all hundred feet and probably ten thousand pounds of ship toward him until the side touched the dock, then pushed down slightly and stepped over the railing, onto the deck. The ship rocked violently a few times as he tromped toward the center and stopped.

  “Okay, then,” Alex said in strained tones. “Follow me.”

  As she turned and headed down the dock, I gave Taeral the side-eye. “Speaking of questions, I have some too. And guess who’s elected to answer them?”

  “Yeah, I’m with Gideon,” Sadie said. “When were you going to tell me that you owed Grygg a favor?”

  Taeral visibly pulled himself together and clenched his jaw. “I will explain once we’re on this blasted ship, and I am certain we’ll be safe from this witch.”

  “Oh, good. I can hardly wait to hear this one.”

  We went after Captain Alex, and I found myself hoping this shipwreck wasn’t too far from the shore. Because I had a feeling that if we were out there too long, someone wasn’t going to make it back alive.

  CHAPTER 6

  By the time we boarded the ship using the gangplank at the back, a small group of people I assumed were the crew had emerged from a wooden door beneath the platform where the ship’s wheel was mounted. They were currently hanging far back from Grygg, who hadn’t moved from the center of the deck.

  The captain stopped well before she reached Grygg too, as if he was some kind of force field preventing people from walking past him. She closed her eyes for a few seconds before she plunged ahead to confer with her crew in low words.

  I headed for Grygg, with Taeral and Sadie close behind, and watched the other group. I still wanted to know what Captain Walsh had told them. There were seven altogether, including the captain. A slim man in a black cap and trench coat who was almost as tall as Taeral — no mean feat, since my brother was seven feet easy. Another male crew member, all knots and cords of muscle and sneer, kept a steady eye on Grygg. He was probably used to being the biggest anything, anywhere, and didn’t welcome the status change.

  There was a man and woman standing slightly back from the rest, both with fair skin, blond hair, and a strong enough resemblance to be twins. The man talking directly with Alex was dark-haired, average height and solid build, and covered in tattoos. And the last crew member was on the short side, fidgety and smeared with grease.

  Finally, Alex broke off whatever she was saying and came toward us. The rest of the crew fanned out and formed a line behind her. “All right. I’ve told them all who you are, so it’s only fair that we introduce ourselves. I’m the captain, in case you didn’t catch that the first time.”

  A few of the crew members sniggered.

  “This is Junkyard, my first mate. If you have questions, bother him. Not me.” She pointed to the guy with the tattoos, who gave a quick nod. Then she gestured to the tall man. “And that’s Mr. Wilt, our helmsman. He drives the boat.”

  More laughter from the crew. I was starting to get the idea that Captain Walsh didn’t have a high opinion of our collective intelligence.

  “Then we have Dom. He’s in charge of security.”

  A growl from the muscle-man confirmed which one was Dom.

  “Kjell and Solveig are the second mate and bosun,” Alex said, indicating the pale twins. “And this is Low Tide. He’s the engineer.”

  “Low Tide?” I repeated, eyeing the greasy fidgeter.

  Alex smirked. “Stand downwind of him if you want to find out why he’s called that.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing like the smell of diesel in the morning,” Low Tide said with a grin. “Keeps the bugs off, too.”

  Dom glared at him, and he stopped grinning.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you,” I said. “I guess we’ll—”

  “That’s enough small talk. We’re shoving off, people.”

  At that, the crew broke off like a well-oiled machine. Mr. Wilt headed for the stairs to the helm, while the twins and Low Tide filed back through the door beneath the platform. Junkyard and Dom immediately closed ranks behind the captain. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you bunch to your quarters.”

  I didn’t like the sarcastic note beneath those words.

  Alex strode past us, headed for the stern, and I glanced at Taeral. He hadn’t said a word since we boarded the ship, and it seemed that Sadie was following his lead. I wanted to ask him about a lot more than why he’d made a promise to Grygg. But I had a feeling he didn’t want to say anything in front of the crew.

  Grygg, of course, was his usual talkative self.

  I led the way after the captain, and as the two crewmen fell in behind our group, the ship’s engine rumbled and roared to life. Almost immediately, we were in motion, backing away from the dock. I picked up the pace and caught up with Alex. “So, what class of ship is this?” I said, and nodded to the thick metal pole set about twenty feet from the stern. “That’s not a mast. It’s too far back.”

  She grunted. “Fishing trawler,” she said. “That’s the net rigging. And it is a mast, technically. Just has a yardarm attached.”

  “So you drag nets behind the ship to fish.”

  “Think you know something about boats, do you?”

  I shrugged. “Actually, I do. But this is a ship.”

  The brief glance she threw me might’ve been impressed, but she got rid of that emotion quickly. “At least you know that much,” she muttered. “Just don’t think your knowledge of boats means you know anything about my ship.”

  “Got it.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you being a smartass?”

  “Me
? Never.”

  “Hmph.” We’d passed the net rigging, and she stopped beside a recessed area at the back center of the deck, about ten feet by ten feet and lined with a bunch of empty burlap sacks that smelled kind of fishy. Literally. “For the record, I don’t like smartasses,” she said.

  “Duly noted.”

  “You’re doing it again.”

  I almost said I couldn’t help it, but I decided to withhold comment.

  When the rest of them caught up, Alex gave a brisk nod to her crewmen and walked over to join them. By then the ship had cleared the docks and was heading out to open sea at a brisk clip. “You can stay in the guest quarters until we reach the coordinates,” she said. “It’s better if you just stay out of our way.”

  I stepped to the edge of the shallow pit and stirred the sacks with a foot. “Is there a hatch under these bags somewhere?”

  “No.” The captain spread her arms and smiled coldly. “This is our guest quarters. It’s really not bad to sleep on, except for the smell. But you’ll get used to it.”

  Taeral’s lip curled. “You expect us to sleep here?” he spat. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m completely serious. Fae.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We know what you are,” Alex said. “All of you, including your girlfriend. And we’re prepared to deal with you if anyone gets out of hand.” She pulled one side of her coat back to reveal a pistol in a hand-tooled holster. “See this? It’s loaded with cold iron bullets. Dom has one loaded with silver.”

  I could feel Taeral about to explode. I was just as furious, but there wasn’t much we could do about it at this point — except to start a war with the crew. And Taeral would be more than ready to do that. I held a hand out toward him and looked steadily at Alex. “You won’t need to use them,” I said. “We aren’t here to cause trouble.”

  “You’d better not be.” She let the coat fall. “Just follow the rules, and we’ll all get along fine.”

  “And what are these rules?” Taeral said stiffly.

  “Whatever I say they are.” She turned a cool stare on me. “Oh, and by the way? If you somehow manage to disarm us…” She produced a slim stick from somewhere and flicked it at the sky. A beam of energy shot from the end of the wand, into a small gray cloud just off the back of the ship. The cloud started glowing, and then discharged a massive, blinding lightning bolt into the water, sending up a boiling cloud of steam. “That could’ve hit anything I wanted it to, including one of you. Or all of you,” she said. “So don’t try me.”

  With that, the three of them turned in unison and strode away.

  “Taeral, don’t,” I said under my breath as I caught the flicker of motion that was him raising a hand to cast a spell. “We’ll just stay away from them and get through this, okay?”

  His jaw clenched, but he lowered his hand. “She may not give us the choice to stay away,” he said. “Weather witches are among the most powerful, the most dangerous, of all their kind. I’m afraid nothing about this is ‘okay’, brother.”

  I half agreed with him, but I wasn’t going to concede that yet. We could still make this work. And when it was over, we’d never have to see these people again.

  CHAPTER 7

  I wasn’t lying about knowing boats. I’d been on plenty before, but my experiences were confined to swamps and backwaters in the worst possible areas of the country where the Valentines, my former so-called family, could evade the authorities. The ocean was a first for me.

  So far I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, except that it was really big.

  We’d been going for about an hour with no one in the mood to talk and no sign of the crew, except for Mr. Wilt at the helm. After Captain Walsh left us with her threats, I spent the first twenty minutes or so sitting at the edge of the recessed pit, trying to decide if I was seasick or just worried. The fishy smell probably wasn’t helping. By the time I got up and made my way to the back railing, where Taeral and Sadie sat with their backs to the water staring across the deck, the marina was no longer in sight. In fact, there was no land visible, anywhere, and no other boats. Just endless water.

  For better or worse, we were in this until the end.

  Taeral acknowledged me with a nod as I walked up and grabbed the rail, wobbling slightly with the movement of the ship. For a minute I was convinced I’d spill my guts over the side — I hadn’t realized how much my stomach was actually churning until I stopped moving. But I managed to take a few deep breaths, turn away from all that water and sit against the railing. That was a little better.

  “If I did not know better, I’d think that witch shot you with cold iron after all,” Taeral said. “You’re a bit green, brother.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured, and closed my eyes for a minute. Unfortunately that made it worse. I opened them again, looked around and spotted Grygg standing on the other side of the burlap pit, braced against the tall, thick metal pole that Alex has said was the net rigging. He was watching the steering platform, the man at the helm, and the closed door leading below with intense concentration. “So, I guess we’re safe,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me again how it’s a bad idea to make promises?”

  Taeral leaned back with a sigh. “Of course it is a bad idea. Otherwise, we’d not be headed for gods know what in the company of a witch.”

  “What did you promise him, exactly?” Sadie said, unable to keep the shrill edge from her voice. I couldn’t blame her for that. There was a reason Taeral got pissed off when I made promises, especially ones I might not be able to keep.

  Fae were life-bound to their promises. If they broke them, they died.

  “Only that I would help him—” He broke off and winced. “It was many years ago, when I first came to the Hive. And I was drunk.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “Much more so than when you first met me, a’ghrael. I know that is difficult to imagine.”

  Something in her face softened. Taeral had fought his way out of the bottle in the last year or so, but it hadn’t been an easy battle. And the time he was talking about was probably one of the worst for him. He’d have been freshly escaped from eight months of captivity and torture at the hands of Milus Dei, minus one arm and still believing they’d brutally murdered his father.

  “At any rate, I was … angry,” he said. “Bitter. Willing to challenge anyone and anything, for any reason. Every glance in my direction was an insult. I would hurt those who crossed me, if they were Other. And if they were human—” He broke off with a shiver. “I killed them,” he grated. “Every human who entered the Hive, and never with any cause other than what they were. I am the reason Grygg created the barrier to keep humans out.”

  I wanted to be mad at him for that, but I couldn’t. Not even knowing I’d almost been one of his victims the first time we met. “So that’s why you gave him the promise?” I said. “In exchange for making the Hive a human-free zone?”

  “No. The promise was given in exchange for saving my life.”

  Sadie glanced toward the golem, who hadn’t moved or given any indication he was hearing this conversation. “Grygg saved your life?” she said.

  “Aye, he did.” Taeral flashed a sardonic smile. “One of the humans I killed was a familiar, a blood-slave, to a very old vampire who was — shall we say, not pleased to lose his most favored chew toy. And so he resolved to make me his next meal.”

  This time, Sadie shivered. “God, I hate vampires.”

  The only vampire I’d ever met was already dead. Like actually dead, not undead. Even then it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. I figured I’d probably hate vampires, too.

  Taeral shrugged. “When he came for me, I was so drunk that I could barely stand. Yet I still challenged him, knowing full well that Fae magic has no effect on vampires,” he said. “If he’d not been amused enough to draw out my death, Grygg would have arrived too late.”

  “So what’d he do?” I said. “Grygg, I mean.”

  “Tore the damned creature’s head f
rom his shoulders.”

  “Holy…” Sadie breathed.

  “But why did he save you?”

  The words were out before I could consider what an asshole thing that was to say, but Taeral took them in stride. “Who knows? I’d certainly done nothing to indicate I was worth saving, but he did nonetheless. And so, deliriously drunk and half-drained of blood, I made the grand gesture of a boon to my savior. Any favor of his choosing.”

  Sadie reached out and took his hand. “You still haven’t said exactly what you promised, you know,” she said.

  “I have not,” he agreed with a smirk. “Truthfully, I do not recall my exact words.”

  “Taeral, that’s bad,” I said. “You can’t make sure you’re not breaking a promise if you don’t even know what it is.”

  “He promised to help me find the answers.”

  Grygg’s voice carried clearly from his self-appointed guard post. So he had been listening. “The answers to what?” I called back.

  “Where I came from. Who made me,” Grygg said. “And why.”

  I frowned. “That’s a lot of questions.”

  “We’ll find the answers, if they are out there,” Taeral said heavily. “We’ve no choice now. Or at least, I do not.”

  I felt awful for him. He’d sworn off making promises after we’d forced the Unseelie Queen to pardon him for the one he’d made to keep me safe forever, but this one had been made long before that happened. “Hey, maybe there’s something in the stuff Tethys gave me that could help,” I said, pulling the clasp envelope from the inside pocket of my coat. “There’s a bunch of papers in here. I looked through them, but I might’ve missed something.”

  “Why would Tethys give you anything about Grygg?” Sadie said.

  “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.”