Lex Trent versus the Gods

by Alex Bell

  ‘I just want to talk!’ he exclaimed, holding up his hands in what he hoped was a pacifying manner.

  He had expected her to be upset, to shout even, but this kind of viciousness was ridiculous. Who would have thought the old woman would be armed?

  ‘Get off! Get off! Get off my master’s ship you vile scourge!’ She was virtually sobbing. Lex was forced to back away from her as she kept coming at him, both sticks flailing.

  ‘Steady on,’ he tried. ‘You’ll dislocate a hip or something if you’re not careful.’

  But she wasn’t listening. She wasn’t even speaking now, just shrieking at an earsplitting pitch. Lex turned and ran down the corridor back towards the door that led onto the deck. The dreadful wailing didn’t stop and when Lex risked a glance back over his shoulder he saw that the old crone was coming after him at a high-speed hobble, her long skirts flapping around her crooked legs, her many amulets getting tangled up together and the grey cat still draped over her shoulders. Her face was contorted into an expression of pure anguish as she pursued him as fast as her crippled body would allow.

  Lex had always had rather a cruel sense of humour and the sight of the old woman trying to run after him made him burst out into helpless laughter so that by the time he neared the end of the corridor he was bent almost double with it. What on earth did she think she’d be able to do if she caught him? Whatever made her think that giving chase would be a good idea when he was probably at least ten times stronger than her? The image so amused Lex that he found he could manage no more than a stagger himself even though he was aware that the horrible old witch was catching up with him.

  He almost crashed into Schmidt as he appeared in the doorway. ‘Get out of the way!’ he shrieked through his laughter. ‘She’s going to get me!’

  The lawyer backed away from the doorway in obvious alarm. Lex was blocking his view of the old woman but her insane wailing made it sound like some awful, banshee-like monster was giving chase.

  Lex broke out into the fresh air of the silver deck and tried to stop laughing. When the wild old crone appeared in the doorway, Lex treated her to a mocking bow. ‘I’ve had some high-speed chases in my time, Bessa, but yours was by far the most thrilling. I don’t know when I’ve ever been more scared for my life.’

  The crone glared at him, angry tears rolling down her withered cheeks. Schmidt stared at the old woman and then back at Lex. ‘What in God’s name did you do to her?’ he snapped before turning back to the crone. ‘I am sorry, ma’am, if this boy said anything to offend you. Please allow me to—urgh!’

  The lawyer, who had been walking towards the old lady, broke off abruptly as one of her sticks clipped him across the side of the head.

  ‘Get off my master’s ship!’ she screamed.

  Lex dissolved into laughter once again at the delightful sight of his employer reeling back in alarm from the old lady with the decidedly deadly walking sticks. His laughter was short lived however, when she scuttled up to him and managed a well-aimed blow directly to the stomach. Lex bent over double, momentarily robbed of air, gasping for breath, his eyes watering. He was only saved from a second skull-shattering blow by Schmidt’s fortuitously timely recovery as he succeeded in wrestling the sticks from the mad old woman, whereupon she promptly lost her balance and fell over onto the gleaming silver deck.

  ‘Calm yourself, madam,’ the lawyer exclaimed. ‘No one is going to harm you. Are you all right, Lex?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Lex wheezed.

  ‘Serves you right!’ the old lawyer retorted.

  Lex straightened up with an effort and took a step towards the sprawled crone. ‘All we want is the boat, you mad old bat!’ he snarled.

  That last strike had evaporated Lex’s previous good humour. Who would have thought one old woman could have given Lex Trent so much trouble? His temper flared angrily at the thought. ‘How does the ship run?’ he asked.

  ‘Horrible boy! I’ll never tell you! Never!’ the crone wept. ‘Bessa is a loyal servant to her master!’

  Lex looked down as something brushed against his legs. It was the crone’s grey cat. It must have fallen from her shoulders when she lost her balance. A thought occurred to Lex and a nasty smile tugged at his mouth. He picked up the animal and in a few strides he was at the edge of the ship, his arm outstretched over the side with the terrified cat dangling in his hand, so many feet above the ocean below.

  The crone screamed in horror.

  ‘How does it run?’ Lex asked with an uncharacteristic maliciousness.

  ‘Piewacket!’ the old woman sobbed. ‘Don’t hurt him! Don’t drop him! He fears the water! He cannot swim!’

  ‘I won’t be able to help it in a minute, the way he’s thrashing around,’ Lex said, struggling to maintain his grip on the frantic animal. ‘For God’s sake, just tell me how to get the ship moving!’

  ‘That’s enough, Lex!’ Schmidt snapped. ‘Put the cat down!’

  ‘How does the ship work?’ Lex asked again, staring at the crone.

  ‘I will tell you. Only give Piewacket back to me and I will tell you!’

  Lex slowly retracted his arm, bringing the cat back over the side of the boat. He had meant to maintain his grip on the animal but disgruntled cats are not so easy to keep hold of without being scratched to pieces and he dropped the creature instinctively as it succeeded in sinking its claws into his arm.

  Lex cursed as it scampered back to the crone, jumping onto her humped back and draping itself round her shoulders once again, staring evilly at Lex with its ears flat against its ugly head.

  ‘It’s a magical key, down below,’ the crone said. ‘For all the good the knowledge will do you, nasty boy; my master has taken the key with him!’

  ‘Show me.’

  Mr Schmidt protested most vigorously as Lex forced the old crone before them, down the maze of mirrored hallways within the great ship. Lex had given her one of her sticks back but the other he had snatched from Schmidt and thrown into the sea. She was unable to attack them with just the one stick for she needed it to keep her balance. Schmidt had protested about that, too, but Lex had cut him off short with a bit of timely truth: ‘We have to be in Khestrii by sunset tomorrow or else we’ll be too late to reach the Black Tower. There’s no way of getting there that fast without using magical means.’

  ‘Black Tower? What’s that got to do with anything? What are you babbling about?’ the lawyer asked, staring at him suspiciously. ‘I will not be made an accomplice in such reprehensible criminal activity!’

  ‘If you don’t come with me to Khestrii then you won’t ever be free of the bracelets,’ Lex said. ‘You’ll be stuck with me, Mr Schmidt, until the end of your days. However long that might be. Don’t worry about stealing the ship,’ he winked at him. ‘I won’t tell anybody you helped.’

  He pushed the crone on down the corridor as she led them to the ‘Bone Room’, as she called it. It had been an enjoyable thing, watching Schmidt wrestle with himself over the problem. For Lex was right. Unless they stole this ship, right now, then they would not get to Khestrii for a very long time. It could take weeks - months, even. Mr Schmidt was a moral man. He was against crime. But he didn’t want to be stuck with a body that was not his own, joined to a person that he loathed, saddled with the company of a selfish, contemptible fool for the rest of his life. And they had come this far already . . .

  ‘We’re not stealing it,’ he said at last. ‘We’re just borrowing it.’

  ‘It starts with all of us like that,’ Lex said, grinning.

  It was not long before they were both completely disoriented because of the cursed mirrors that were everywhere. Eventually the crone stopped and pushed open a mirrored door and they stepped into a cream-coloured room, made entirely of ivory. They must have ended up at the top of the ship for panoramic windows ran all the way round the circular room, showing the view of the sea stretching out before them to one side, the sprawling docks to the other.

  The walls, th
e floor and the window seat running around the panoramic windows were all made from the same polished ivory. The large floor was bare but for an ivory basin stood on a pedestal in the centre of the room. When Lex walked over to it he saw that it held salt water.

  ‘The master’s key goes in there,’ Bessa crowed. ‘His magic bone is the key for the Bone Room that makes the ship fly. It is a magic bone, shaped like a fish. He took it with him. You cannot work the ship without it,’ she finished triumphantly.

  ‘Magic bone,’ Lex muttered, fingering the Wishing Swanns through their pouch in his pocket and taking in the ivory room.

  He turned with a smile to the crone. ‘Tell me, Bessa, does it have to be a particular magic bone or will any one do?’

  The crone stared at him suspiciously. ‘You have no magic bone, horrible boy. Only great enchanters have them, horrible liar!’

  Lex laughed softly as he drew the velvet pouch out of his pocket and tipped the three beautiful Swanns out onto the palm of his hand. There was the black obelisk one and the one carved from deep red bloodstone. But it was the pale cream Swann made from ivory that he selected. He glanced at the trembling crone. ‘As luck would have it,’ he said with a grin, ‘I happen to have a little magic bone of my own right here.’

  He ignored the crone’s little screech of alarm . . .

  . . . and dropped the ivory Swann into the basin.

  Dockhands and sailors ducked for cover as great wooden shards splintered in all directions. A great chunk of the harbour was ripped away by one of the enchanted boats suddenly soaring out over the sea, easily tearing free of the ropes that anchored it and taking half the harbour with it.

  Wooden splinters crashed through the shut-up stalls of the midnight market and embedded themselves in the hulls of the other boats anchored in the harbour. Lex, Schmidt and Bessa were all thrown to the ivory floor with the vicious suddenness of the movement, water sloshing over from the basin in the centre and Bessa’s one remaining cane skittering across the well-polished floor.

  Lex recovered first, pulling himself up by one of the window seats and staring back at the chaotic harbour as the ship flew ever further away, not even touching the waves beneath them. He took in the damage that had been done by virtue of the great ship’s strength and laughed delightedly. ‘I hope we didn’t impale anybody back there.’

  Schmidt staggered to his feet and joined Lex at the window, gasping in horror at the damage that had been done.

  ‘My God, Lex, don’t you care anything for the safety of other people?’

  Lex waved a hand dismissively. ‘I’m sure no one was hurt,’ he said, stepping over the sprawled crone to the basin and looking in at the Swann resting on the bottom.

  After that sudden shock of movement the boat seemed remarkably calm considering the speed at which it was travelling. There was no rocking on the waves as there had been on the gypsy ship for this magical boat was hardly sailing at all; it was flying over the restless ocean, not even touching the water.

  ‘How do you get it to stop?’ Lex asked the crone.

  But even as he spoke the words, the ship slowed rapidly until it had come to a complete halt, hovering over the waves, the harbour now some way behind them.

  ‘Aha,’ Lex said with a slow grin.

  ‘It reads the mind of the key holder,’ Bessa said miserably.

  ‘What are you stopping for anyway? I thought you were all eager to be away?’ Schmidt asked.

  ‘Yes, but we don’t want any unwanted passengers, Monty,’ Lex said, smiling horribly at the old crone.

  Half an hour later, Bessa was sat hunched up in her basket, which was floating on the surface of the ocean next to the great ship. They’d lowered her down over the side with ropes, having been forced to use the basket in the absence of any lifeboats.

  ‘It seems to be floating well enough. What did I tell you?’ Lex said to the lawyer.

  Schmidt gazed back at him coldly. The old crone was still screaming for her bloody cat, which seemed to have disappeared into the ship somewhere.

  ‘She’ll be able to row back to shore all right with that, she’s got an oar. And she has her cane. What more does she need?’

  ‘You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met,’ Schmidt said coldly. ‘You really don’t care about anyone at all, do you? She will be punished by her enchanter.’

  ‘She’ll be in more trouble if she stays with us. And, like you said, we are only borrowing the boat.’

  ‘Yes,’ Schmidt replied with a horrible smile. ‘So I know you won’t mind leaving her with a deposit. As you fully intend to bring the ship back.’

  ‘Deposit? What dep—?’

  Lex broke off in pure horror as the lawyer suddenly grabbed his bag which had been lying on the deck and threw it overboard where it landed with a splash next to the crone, who promptly pulled it into her basket, crowing with glee at the valuable nature of the things inside.

  ‘How dare you!’ Lex hissed, rounding angrily on the lawyer. ‘How dare you! Do you know how long it took me to collect all those beautiful things? Do you know how hard I had to work to get them?’

  ‘It hurts, doesn’t it, Lex? Losing things that are important to you? Good, I’m glad you’re upset.’

  Discipline, Lex told himself. He’s baiting you. Don’t rise to it . . . Don’t rise to it . . . After all, he still had his money belt - not that Schmidt needed to know anything about that . . .

  ‘I’m not upset, Mr Schmidt,’ Lex said with exaggerated politeness. ‘Just a little concerned about how we’re going to finance our journey now that you’ve given away all my valuables. After all, I have no money now and there will be travelling expenses and food expenses and things . . . but that’s okay because you still have your wallet, don’t you? I must say it’s very sportsmanlike of you to agree to pay for all this out of your own pocket, Mr Schimdt,’ Lex gloated, noting with relish the distinctly unhappy expression that was now on his employer’s face.

  ‘Didn’t think it through, did you?’ Lex asked, with sudden coldness. ‘It takes practice, you know, swindling people. You really shouldn’t try it unless you’re absolutely sure it won’t backfire on you.’

  He glanced over the edge of the ship. ‘You know, Monty, I have the sneaking suspicion that you might have overpaid her.’

  The old crone was paddling for the shore as fast as her oar would take her, one arm still crooked around Lex’s bag.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LEX AND LUCIUS TRENT

  Mahara was a dead Goddess. She had died, they said, for love. For the love of a mortal man. She had given up her immortality for him. And now her abandoned sun was cold and useless, its light shedding no warmth so that it was unable to prevent the ice storms from sweeping in, blowing snow across the land and freezing the ocean solid. It was a problem for the gypsies and the fishermen, for their boats would become stuck on the frozen sea. But, to an enchanted boat, Mahara’s sun was no obstacle. The ship flew over the solidifying ocean and sliced through the gales, the shards of ice shattering harmlessly against the steel prow where they would have punched straight through a wooden gypsy boat.

  Lex and Schmidt had taken to using lengths of rope to guide themselves round the mirrored boat. They feared that, without something to guide them back to the bridge, they might become permanently lost within the vast, winding, reflecting corridors. Schmidt had warned Lex not to go poking around. The bridge seemed harmless enough, as had Bessa’s little cabin, but who knew what might be lurking elsewhere within the ship?

  Predictably, Lex had scoffed at the words of caution and set out to explore or - more accurately - to loot the ship. Who knew what manner of valuable, dangerous, beautiful things he might find on such a vessel? He was disappointed to discover that many of the rooms were similar to Bessa’s cabin - nothing more than tiny little marble boxes. He did find a wardrobe, though, and amused himself there for a while, trying on the enchanter’s tall, pointed hats. He also took some white fur coats to make the hard-surf
aced bridge more comfortable. He found a bathroom too and the kitchen by following the grey cat, which seemed to appear from nowhere, watching Lex warily with narrowed, yellow eyes. The creature gave Lex the creeps and he was sorely tempted to drop the wretched thing overboard. But he had some vague notion that cats on ships were supposed to be good luck or something and it ran off when he tried to approach it, so he shrugged and left Piewacket to himself.

  Schmidt had steadfastly refused to eat a thing that Lex had found on board in case the food was enchanted, preferring instead to eat what they had brought with them from Jani’s Tavern. But Lex had sampled some of the pantry’s supplies and found the food to be very good indeed. He had continued his systematic exploring of the ship until he had some idea of its layout. Any conman knows that it is important to have escape routes very firmly fixed in your mind in case the worst should happen.