Voyager of the Crown

by Melissa McShane

  They sat in silence, listening to the birds and the insects, for what felt like hours. Zara had no watch, and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because she could not make Arjan, Cantara, and Ransom move faster. Moving faster might be deadly for them, too. She let herself fall into a waking fugue, her eyes sweeping the jungle, her ears tuned to listen for the sound of returning footsteps, her lungs taking in wet, hot air and expelling it slowly. A couple of times, she began daydreaming of traveling to Veribold with Ransom and had to stop herself. She needed to be alert, not distracted.

  Distantly, she heard someone moving through the undergrowth. She gestured to Belinda and Theo to hide themselves, though she had no illusions about how well any of them might do that. If this was a pirate and not one of their friends, their only hope was to try to overcome him before he could return to Ghazarian with news of their presence.

  “We have returned,” Arjan said, his deep voice almost a whisper. Zara emerged from behind the tree where she’d sheltered. Arjan and Cantara looked as if they’d been in a fight, but neither looked wounded or moved like they were in pain. Cantara was smiling.

  “Two of them,” she said. “They did not see us coming, and now they will tell no one we here are.”

  “Did you…kill them?” Theo’s whisper was even quieter than Arjan’s.

  The smile fell away from Cantara’s face. “We could not subdue them and risk them getting free to make a warning. They will tell no one anything ever again.”

  “That was the right choice,” Zara said, shooting a warning look at Theo. “Thank you.”

  “They would have killed us,” Arjan said with a shrug. “Though I cannot say I will forget how it felt. I have never killed a man before.”

  “Nor I,” said Cantara. She rubbed her fist, running her fingertips over her knuckles reminiscently. “It was…too easy.”

  “That’s two pirates who can’t help Ghazarian fight,” Zara said, hoping to distract Cantara. “Ransom will return soon, and we’ll know better how many are left.”

  “Ransom is back now,” Ransom said, emerging from the thick growth. “You probably shouldn’t all stand out in the open like that.”

  “What did you learn?” Zara asked.

  Ransom crouched in the dirt next to the log Zara and Belinda had sat on and drew with his forefinger in the thin topsoil. “There’s a place where the trees thin out—it’s not really a clearing, but it’s big enough to hold a good twenty people if they all like each other very much. Ghazarian had a couple of pirates clearing the undergrowth, which tells me this is where she plans to make her stand.”

  “You saw her?”

  Ransom nodded. “Somebody got off a lucky shot during Blackwood’s raid, because there was a bloody bandage wrapped around her left leg. It didn’t do more than give her a limp, so we shouldn’t count on it incapacitating her in a fight. Anyway. The clearing. I saw Ghazarian and five other pirates, one of whom left to go to the shore as I watched. I don’t know what orders Ghazarian gave her, because she spoke in Eskandelic, but the path she took only leads to the beach.”

  “Do they have a longboat, then?”

  “Pulled up on shore. I circled around to make sure the ship hadn’t slipped around this side of the island.”

  “Ghazarian still has the Device,” Theo said. He pointed at the bowl of the tracking Device, where the stem clung as if magnetized to the side about halfway between the lip and the center.

  “Good,” Zara said. “Then it’s time for the next part of the plan.”

  She wasn’t as certain as she sounded. The ideal plan would have been to get everyone into position before Ghazarian arrived, but they couldn’t know where she planned to make her stand until she reached the island. So that possibility was eliminated. “We’re going to draw away some of Ghazarian’s support, distract her, then attack when she isn’t expecting it,” she said. “But we need to move quickly. If they’re preparing the clearing, they’re already not as alert as they could be, and we can use that.”

  “I’ll lead the way,” Ransom said. “Follow as closely as you can, and for heaven’s sake try not to make noise.”

  That was probably wishful thinking, Zara thought. The ground was thick with undergrowth, wide-lobed plants and grasses with blades as broad as her palm, all of which rustled as they passed. The lush greenery grew most riotously where they walked between the trees, which were fewer than on the mainland but every bit as tall. Zara had considered putting Belinda in one of them, to give her a better vantage point, but their trunks were straight and branchless for the first thirty feet. She glanced at Belinda, who wasn’t breathing heavily but whose face was red. Getting her into a tree, even one with plenty of spreading low branches, might have been difficult.

  Ransom moved easily, but with awareness of those following him. He held bushes aside for them to pass rather than hacking them with his notched knife, and silently pointed out ground vines they might trip over. The rich green smell of vegetation wafted up with every step as they crushed plants underfoot despite their care. Zara was grateful for the high canopy, shielding them from the morning sun. One way or another, this would all be over before the scorching heat of afternoon was upon them, but the air was already warm and wet and clinging like a second skin. She once again dismissed thoughts of the dry heat of Veribold and focused on ducking past a shrub bearing purple berries, probably poisonous if Dineh-Karit’s wildlife was representative of the country.

  After about fifteen minutes of walking, Ransom held up a hand to signal a halt. “They’re another fifty yards ahead,” he whispered when they’d all gathered around. “What next?”

  Zara listened, but heard no sounds of human movement, only the raucous birds in the trees and the rustle of the undergrowth when a stray breeze passed through it. “Ransom,” she said, “I want you and…Arjan…to approach as close as you can. When you’re within speaking distance, get their attention and then say something in Karitian.”

  “The idea being to make them believe they’ve been double-crossed?” Ransom grinned.

  “And I will overcome the ones who come after us,” Arjan said. “It is a good plan.”

  “It’s part of a plan,” Zara said. “The rest of us are going to move around to the other side of the clearing. When the pirates leave to investigate Ransom and Arjan—it won’t be all of them, but even one would be enough, and I’m betting Ghazarian will send two—we’ll jump the others. Belinda, you’ll need to take aim on Ghazarian and shoot her if she tries to run. Cantara, you’ll fight the ones who are left until Arjan and Ransom join us.”

  “You have great faith in me,” Cantara said with a smile. “Suppose there are many?”

  “I’ve seen arakeli dancers before. I’m certain you can keep them busy.”

  “What about you?” Ransom asked.

  “I’m the final distraction.” Zara smiled, fierce excitement filling her. “Ghazarian thinks I’m dead. When she sees me…I don’t know what she’ll do, but it will rattle her enough I can retrieve the Device.” She remembered how bloody she’d been, lying on the floor of that tiny house, and the furious joy on Ghazarian’s face when she’d driven the knife home. Saying she’d be rattled was an understatement.

  “Then let’s go,” Ransom said, taking Zara’s hand briefly and squeezing it before turning away. She watched him and Arjan for a few steps, then gestured to the others to follow her. How had they ended up divided by sex, men and women? It didn’t matter. What mattered was retrieving the Device. She sent up a short prayer that her plan wouldn’t get them all killed.

  She led them forward, not as silently as Ransom had, but without sounding like a party of women tramping through the undergrowth. She hoped. At the very least, they needed to be quiet enough that they could hear Ghazarian’s men if they strayed from the clearing. Too late, she realized she should have arranged a signal to let Ransom know when they were in position. She quickened her steps. If Ransom and Arjan acted too quickly—

  The trees grew mo
re thickly together where they were, and Zara slipped from trunk to broad trunk, hoping her guess was correct and she was keeping the thick boles between herself and the still unseen clearing. Her ears practically quivered with the strain of listening for anything out of the ordinary. If she’d been an animal, they’d be swiveled forward, tilted to catch the smallest sound. The idea amused her.

  She tripped and caught herself on a tree, scraping her hand. She examined it briefly and was startled to see the abrasion fading already, her skin turning pink as it healed. What had Theo said—that there was a strong source on the island? And she felt energetic, not at all winded or tired. Maybe she was right, and her healing magic worked more rapidly and effectively the closer she was to a source. She must be practically on top of it. She wiped her now-uninjured palm on her trousers and kept walking. Not being shot by a pirate suddenly mattered more, if she wanted to keep her secret. The image of a bullet shooting back out of her rapidly healing flesh made her shudder—or would she heal around it? Even worse.

  She heard someone stumble and turned to see Belinda leaning heavily on the rifle as if she’d caught herself before falling. She gave Zara a reassuring nod and used the rifle to push herself upright. Then her eyes widened. She swiftly brought the rifle to her shoulder and fired past Zara. The shot echoed, sending the birds into a screaming frenzy.

  Zara whipped around. A woman dressed in the castoff clothing of three nations swayed there, her eyes as astonished as Belinda’s, her chest a gory mess. A pistol slipped from her limp fingers to disappear into the undergrowth. Reflexively Zara leaped to catch the woman as she sagged, then dropped her and stepped away. No point in trying to keep this quiet. More gunshots sounded in the distance, then shouting. Zara swore and said, “Run for the clearing!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  They ran as best they could through the thick undergrowth, tripping on ground vines and dodging around trees. Cantara was faster than Zara and soon outdistanced them. The cries of fighting were louder now, filling Zara with dread. So much for the plan. Now she had to make it up as she went along.

  She and Belinda saw the clearing before they stumbled into it. Zara grabbed Belinda to keep her from continuing into the open. The clearing was a confused mass of motion, Cantara darting past to slam into a pirate twice her size and taking them both down, more pirates shooting wildly into the bushes. There were far too many people, more than Zara had anticipated. Where were Ransom and Arjan?

  Belinda brought the rifle up again and tracked the movement of one of the pirates who had his back to her. “Wait!” Zara said, but Belinda had already fired and was reloading. The pirate collapsed, blood spreading across his narrow back, and his companion turned to see where the shot had come from. Belinda’s hands moved feverishly fast, and she was swearing under her breath, a long stream of invective. The pirate, his pistol held high, headed across the clearing, his pace gradually increasing until he was running.

  Belinda swore again. Zara knew nothing about guns, but she had a feeling something was wrong with this one. The pirate barreled down on them, close enough now Zara could see his face contorted into a snarl. Desperate, Zara stepped forward into the clearing and braced herself. She could slow him down long enough for Belinda to finish loading. With luck, he’d be a bad shot and only wound her.

  Her sudden appearance startled him, and he skidded to a stop, confusion replacing anger for the moment. “Back away, and you might survive this,” Zara said, fixing him with the blue-eyed North gaze.

  To her surprise, he took a few steps back. “You,” he said in Eskandelic. “You were dead!”

  “Not for long,” Zara said.

  The sound of the rifle bolt ratcheting into place almost made her flinch, but showing weakness would be fatal. Belinda stepped wide around her, the rifle pointed at the pirate’s chest. The pirate swore, turned, and ran. Before he reached the far side of the clearing, and the path to the beach, another shot rang out. Half the pirate’s head exploded, scattering flesh and bone and blood in every direction. Belinda cried out and lowered the rifle. “That wasn’t me,” she exclaimed.

  A tall figure stepped out of the sheltering trees into the clearing. “I do not tolerate traitors,” Ghazarian said. Smoke wafted from the black powder pistol she held.

  Zara grabbed Belinda’s arm and put her friend behind her. “I’m not surprised.”

  Ghazarian focused on her, and her face went slack with astonishment and fear. “You,” she said as the pirate had. “I killed you.” The pistol fell out of her hand, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “You thought you killed me. You should have made sure.”

  Ghazarian took a few steps forward, slow, hesitant ones. “I have killed many. I was sure. What are you, that you do not die?”

  Zara held still, keeping Ghazarian’s attention on her. Where was everyone, and why hadn’t Belinda shot Ghazarian already? Well, she’d wanted a distraction, and she’d gotten one. It was her own fault she hadn’t told anyone what to do with it. “Give me the Device, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

  “It my Device is, until I sell it. The Tremontanans had a chance and wasted it. The Karitians more intelligent are.” Ghazarian’s hand drifted to the hilt of the archaic long blade she wore at her hip. “I will have to kill you more this time.”

  Belinda brought the rifle up again. “Hand over the Device,” she said. “I won’t hesitate to shoot.”

  Ghazarian’s lips curled in a mocking sneer. “Then shoot.” Her eyes were fixed on Zara, as if despite her words the two of them were the only ones in the clearing. Zara gazed back, certain if she looked away, Ghazarian would attack. Shoot her, Belinda!

  Belinda cursed, then in a low voice said, “It’s still jammed. I was bluffing.”

  She spoke so quietly Zara could barely hear her over the shouts and screams, but Ghazarian’s sneer became a vicious smile, the smile of someone who knew she’d won. “I kill you all,” she said, drew her sword, and advanced on Zara.

  Zara backed away, reaching for the pistol jammed into her waistband. “Run, Belinda!” she shouted, and then Ghazarian was upon her, sword thrusting for her midsection. Zara flung herself to one side, but Ghazarian followed, slashing at her legs. A sharp sting turned into a dull ache as Ghazarian scored a hit on Zara’s thigh. The ache burned and then vanished. They had to be right on top of the source. Zara pulled Ghazarian’s pistol free of her waistband and nearly lost it as the pirate captain brought the sword around in a heavy two-handed blow that almost took Zara’s head off. Zara rolled awkwardly out of the way. She needed to stop fighting a defensive battle.

  She turned and ran, dodging pirates and Arjan, who was locked in hand-to-hand combat with a pirate whose shirtless chest gleamed with sweat. There was no place she could make a stand that Ghazarian couldn’t reach her. She stopped near the path leading to the beach, or at least she assumed it led to the beach from what Ransom had said, and wheeled to face Ghazarian, squeezing off a shot. It went wild, but Ghazarian ducked anyway, then lunged at Zara. Before Zara could move, Ghazarian’s sword plunged into her chest.

  It was as icy as the knife had been, sharp enough that at first the pain was minimal, no worse than the bite of a paper cut. Ghazarian grinned and thrust the sword deeper. Now it hurt. Zara screamed, heard Belinda echo her, then fell as Ghazarian pulled the blade out and gave her a shove. “I watch to see you dead,” Ghazarian said, gloating.

  You’re going to watch a long time. Her body burned like molten honey, a strangely pleasant sensation. For the first time, she could feel her body healing, felt her heart sealing around the wound inflicted by the sword and the flesh of her chest knitting. The flow of blood slowed, then became a trickle. Every breath filled her with life, searing hot. It was amazing.

  She became aware she was kneeling slumped on the undergrowth the pirates had crushed to make their clearing. Ghazarian stood over her, legs akimbo, leaning on the bloody blade so it flexed outward. The noise of the fight was greater than it had been, with
Belinda’s screams filling the air like the cries of the birds who had surely all fled the melee. Zara drew in another deep, molten, wonderful breath and raised her head. Ghazarian’s smile was vulpine, the look of a predator who’d bested a rival. Zara smiled back, and saw Ghazarian’s expression falter. Without a word, Zara raised the pistol, Ghazarian’s own gun, and shot the woman in the chest.

  The shot was unnaturally loud even against the backdrop of screams and shouts. Ghazarian staggered backward, dropping her sword and raising her other hand to clutch her shattered chest. Zara rose, keeping the pistol trained on her enemy. It had been a good, clean shot, but she wasn’t so stupid as to assume that meant Ghazarian was no longer dangerous. Ghazarian continued to back away from her, her eyes glassy and fixed on Zara as if they were the only two people in the clearing. “What are you?” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, almost inaudible against the noise.

  “Someone you should never have trifled with,” Zara said, matching her tone for tone.

  She kept pace with Ghazarian’s halting retreat until the woman stumbled and fell. Her bloody chest heaved with exertion. She reached inside her coat, a heavy leather mantle far too warm for this climate, and pulled out the communicator Device. She thrust it at Zara. “Take it,” she gasped. “Just…do not let me die. Use your magic on…”

  Zara took the Device. “I wouldn’t spare you even if I could,” she said coldly. “Heaven knows how many lives you’ve taken. You killed me once. I’m just balancing the scales.”

  Ghazarian’s eyes flashed, and she snarled in defiance. “I…” she began, then sagged, her eyes closing.

  Zara heard footsteps disturbing the undergrowth. “Is she dead?” Belinda said. She began to kneel beside Ghazarian’s body. Zara grabbed her shoulder and hauled her up. She prodded Ghazarian’s side with her sandaled toe, flipping the coat open to reveal Ghazarian’s hand clutched on the hilt of a wickedly long knife. It trembled, rose a few inches, then fell still.