by Janina Woods
“And that brings me to the reason we’re all gathered here. As you all know, there has been a tragic incident yesterday, as the both James Hill and his wife, Agatha, have been found dead. There is no doubt that it was malicious violence that brought about their end, which means that there is a culprit, who is still among us. All lifeboats are accounted for and there is no other way they could’ve escaped.”
The crowd grew agitated. It was one thing to suspect it, but having been told that they could, at this very moment, be in the same place as the person who slit another’s throat, was something you couldn’t just ignore. My gaze fell on several people, who kept to themselves, but none of them were women. No one had moved yet, either.
“We will not stand by quietly while a murderer is at large on our ship. Tonight we will perform a search of the entire vessel from top to bottom. If you don’t want to be caught as a suspicious person, I strongly advise you to remain in your cabin, to be called upon only if needed. Everyone outside their assigned living quarters will be subjected to an inquiry. I apologise for this drastic measure...”
On the other side of the deck, a woman, adorned with a violet hat, detached herself from a group of people. In these close quarters it had been easy for her to blend in, but now she had broken cover and pushed through the bodies to reach the edge of the deck. And she was heading directly into the direction of...
“Watson!” I exclaimed loudly, without any regard for the captain’s speech, and pointed at the woman. “Hat!”
Captain Fraser halted his words, much to everyone’s confusion. We held eye contact for all but a second before I dived into the churning mass of people. Heat enveloped me as I pushed through the passengers sideways, one arm ahead to scout the way. People around me shouted and stumbled as I left a veritable chaos in my wake. A scream rang out, followed by the turning of the tide. Suddenly the passengers ran towards me, and I felt as though I were swimming against a strong current. Then I stumbled out into the open, and right onto the scene of another imminent murder.
Watson lay spread out on the floor, like captured prey underneath a predator, which had taken the form of a woman in a shorter, white dress. Her shawl had fallen to the ground, where it fluttered in the rising wind, which made a thick bank of fog roll across the deck. I was only a few feet away from the pair as she raised her arm, brandishing a golden knife, which glinted in the light.
There was no time to lose, and no indication that she might’ve seen me approach. I grabbed my walking cane and lashed out in a wide swing that came crashing down on the woman’s hand. She gasped in shock and released the blade, which was flung far from her by the strong impact and landed at the feet of the passive onlookers. Quickly I twisted the handle of the cane just so, to release the long, elegant blade contained within - but I wouldn’t have needed to bother.
The good doctor bolted upright, threw his attacker off. In a blur of action he grabbed his very own pocket watch and pulled the deadly string from it, laying it neatly around the woman’s throat and drew her back. They were sitting back to front on the floor, almost in a loving embrace, were it not for the threat of death hovering between them.
I stepped closer while I retracted the blade, sheathing it neatly back in its hiding place. The woman hissed, but didn’t dare to speak against the tightly held wire. Her eyes, gleaming furiously at me like burning emeralds, left no doubt: It was the very same person who had escaped us in Milan.
There was much I wanted to ask her, but I settled for just one word.
“Why?”
She grinned and kicked my leg, which I ignored as if a mere fly had landed on it. If anyone were to dictate the course of action, it was me. She narrowed her eyes.
“Why? For the master of course,” she squeezed out and laughed despite the string around her throat. “All for the master!”
Now that the situation seemed to be under partial control, the curious passengers flooded the space again and crowded around us. This was not something that should be done publicly. The masses soaked up any and all information - rumours that we could never get rid of were already starting to make their rounds. Any more time out in the open would be a plain nuisance to me.
“Victoria?” I asked loudly.
“Almost there, just...”
I could see her fall to the ground in the crowd. A collective gasp of surprise went up along with her pained groan. Did the woman have an accomplice? I dashed forward. This time the people parted in front of me and I found my companion on the ground, holding her right hand close to her chest.
“What happened?” I asked as I fell to my knees beside her.
“The knife... I wanted to pick it up, but it was as hot as fire!”
The accursed piece of metal lay in front of her. There was nothing to indicate the heat that it had radiated. Cautiously I wrapped my hand in a handkerchief and tried to touch it, but to me it did nothing. It was of the same make I had previously seen in Dover, golden and coarse, decorated with symbols - hieroglyphs!
“Show me your hand,” I asked Victoria and held out mine. Carefully she placed hers on top, palm upwards. A pattern had been burned into her skin, which matched the one on the knife’s handle. The same way it had been back at the beginning of our journey. As we both looked onto the damage, it faded right in front of our eyes, until only healthy skin remained.
“It’s witchcraft!” a man shouted and veered backwards. Others followed him. “She’s a witch!”
“There’s something wrong with her!”
“A witch!”
I shook my head, despite the knowledge about the powers that had followed us. That was one thing. Superstition another. I exchanged a glance with Victoria, making sure she was alright.
“Listen to me, everyone,” Captain Fraser walked into the middle of the commotion. “Please return to your cabins for the night. My crew and I will handle this. You can all sleep safely, knowing we have apprehended the culprit.”
“How can you be sure?” one woman asked loudly.
“I’ll burn your eyes out, then you will...,” the woman on the ground replied, to which Watson responded by pulling the wire tighter.
It took the captain and his men a while to clear the area, but finally the passengers had all filtered out. It took even longer and involved a lot of strong words, as well as advanced diplomacy, to convince the man to leave the interrogation of the woman to me. He didn’t know who she was, or how she was connected to us, and I wasn’t about to reveal any of it to him. In the end he only permitted us to have an hour with her before we’d had to hand her over. There was nothing more we could do, but make the hour count - the captain’s word was law on board his ship.
The room they had provided us with was small and badly lit. At least we were away from prying eyes. The woman didn’t let herself be tied to the low wooden chair without protest, but as soon as she was secured her demeanour changed completely. I was almost compelled to wonder why we had taken so much precaution to detain such a dainty lady.
Her black hair pooled around her shoulders, lowered in defeat. Eyes, previously sparkling a vicious green were now lowered and filled with tears, their shine dimmed to just a fraction. Her dress was in disarray and torn at the sleeve, the shawl lost somewhere in the proceedings. I could see feelings of compassion rise in Watson’s eyes, so I motioned for him to stand down. Victoria moved behind the woman as I straightened my posture and brushed the creases out of my suit.
“This time you won’t get away so easily,” I opened the interrogation. “Even if you manage to escape us now, the ship won’t be in harbour for another day. Your only means to evade us is to commit yourself to a watery grave.”
“Sir, please, why am I here?” she asked, her voice already broken from crying. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Don’t play innocent. Do you think I wouldn’t recognise you aft
er our encounter in Milan, brief as it was?”
“I’m scared...”
“As you should be. Now, you have just a little time to provide me with the answers I need, before we move on to more drastic measures.”
The woman stared at Watson, but the good doctor just averted his eyes. I put the dagger onto the table, which I had carried with me in my handkerchief.
“This is a similar weapon to the one the doctor and I were attacked with in Dover. Unfortunately the last one was lost to the waves together with its owner. It would be a pity to have the same happen here,” I continued, but there was only silence in the room. Our captive didn’t even look at the piece of metal. “These are hieroglyphs. I am almost certain that you are in league with the Desert Wind cult, who abducted my brother to perform a sacrificial ritual.”
The last words had never been uttered before. I had read them partly on the bomb back in Rome, but never told the others about it, as to not worry them even more. So the ones recoiling in shock were Watson and Victoria, and not the unknown woman.
“These symbols read ‘Seth, God of the Storm. Calamity, Curse, Death.’ It shows a picture of Seth killing Horus - a piece of the Egyptian mythology. Is that what it is? Are you sacrificing my brother to Seth? Why?”
I slammed the dagger down onto the table, which made the woman jump in surprise, but she stayed silent. Still, her act was gone. She stopped crying and drew her shoulders upwards in a defiant posture. My accusations must have hit upon some sort of truth.
“Victoria, her purse.”
The small, dark, plainly decorated bag that we had brought along with us, was emptied upon the table. A silver flask fell out, sounding hollow on impact. Empty. A few coins, red feathers, a pair of small spectacles. All dusted with a fine layer of sand that clung to fabric on the inside.
I stared at the small flask, which was engraved with the initials “S.M.” and the name of a club that was all too familiar. My eyes darted back and forth between the woman and the singular item, and then, just like that, all fell into place.
“You’re far from home, Moran, very far.”
Her eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in anger. At me for figuring out her identity, or at herself for giving her confirmation so quickly, I didn’t know. But now I knew just how this was all connected. Oh, it was so simple, I almost wanted to cry.
“You lost me, Mycroft,” Watson interjected.
“Surely you remember Sherlock’s return to Baker Street, Doctor? How you waited in the empty house for Sebastian Moran to appear and catch him?” I held out the flask with the initials. “The man has a younger sister named Elizabeth, who made a brief appearance at court, and I chide myself for not recognising her earlier, as she’s sitting right in front of you.”
“Moran?“ Victoria asked cautiously. “Sherlock mentioned the name while he... resided with me after the fall.”
“Sebastian is locked away for good, but it seems like another of his family has taken it upon herself to carry out an elaborate revenge plan. Tell me, have I always been on your list as the one who enabled Sherlock all those years? Or did you just want to get rid of Watson?”
“I don’t have to answer to you.”
“No, you don’t, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to get to the truth. The letter was designed to lure me out specifically. It was a riddle only I could solve, and you knew that Watson would turn to me for help. But you couldn’t possibly know of my involvement. No, that particular fact could have only come from a very certain professor...”
“What are you implying, Mycroft?”
“That Moriarty has simply switched from one Moran to the next to do his dirty work.”
The room fell silent. I knew exactly what went through their heads, because the same was swirling around in mine. It was the only thing that made sense, as the longer I observed her, Elizabeth Moran seemed less and less capable of planning out this operation on her own. Maybe I just underestimated her, but my guesses were rarely wrong.
“You made a deal with the devil to help your brother, is that it?” I asked the assassin and brought my fist down on the table for emphasis. “And somehow the devil supplied you with the occult powers you need to take us down.”
“Right. Occult powers,” Elizabeth laughed haughtily. “Has the worry about your brother eroded your mind?”
“So you finally admit in having a hand in his abduction?” Watson exclaimed and ignored her taunt outright.
“I confess to nothing.”
I released a drawn-out breath and pushed the desire to simply make the woman talk through physical means deep, deep down. That wasn’t my style. Well, at least not in front of my companions. Yet.
“Your possible connection to Moriarty is reason enough for me to condemn you, Elizabeth. I wouldn’t even need to draw attention to the red feather tufts still clinging to your unwashed hair and the abrasion on your hands I recognise from the examination of my own body after the explosion in the church.”
Watson and Victoria were as quiet at the culprit as we all waited for her to react. There was no way she could still believe that there was any possibility for her to get out of this. She was involved with everything - possibly even the mastermind behind the operation, as I couldn’t yet be sure that the math professor was indeed still alive.
“You’re right,” Elizabeth then mumbled.
I raised my head in astonishment. I had expected her to speak out, but never so quickly.
“Yes, you’re right about one thing. I have access to powers beyond your understanding. I will curse you and your friends. You shall never reach Egypt, I will make sure of it. Even if I die in the process!” the assassin hissed and twisted in her bindings.
Victoria was quickly upon her to restrain the movement, but Elizabeth showed no sign of stopping. Her face was split by a grin so wide it was almost unnatural. Watson instinctively took a step back, but I willed my body to stay, and so it did.
“You know about the church explosion and how it came to be,” I stated quietly. “You’ve experienced the very same phenomenon recently, otherwise your fingers wouldn’t be in such a bad state. Tell me, what do you mean by powers beyond my understanding?”
“I’ve told him that you’re really the one to look out for, not your brother. But he wouldn’t listen.”
“Him? So you are working for Moriarty after all?” Watson asked. “Who else could bear such a grudge against Holmes?”
The woman averted her gaze, stopped her movements as if her strings had been cut, and sank into herself, head low, her chin almost touching the torso. At first I couldn’t make out that she was talking to herself, as the noise of the waves crashing into the ship’s hull and the rising wind overpowered her speech. But then I heard her mumbling rough words, breathily and continuously. I shook her shoulder but that didn’t interrupt the flow of syllables, if they even were words that had any coherent meaning.
Then I saw her wince in pain and not a second later the regretfully familiar odour of burnt flesh permeated the air. I grabbed her hair with my right hand and pulled her head back, only to reveal the most startling sight I had ever laid my eyes on: The front of her dress, just in the hollow of her neck, was singed, embers still glowing and ill-smelling smoke was rising.
I lost no time to confer with my companions, but reached for what I could make out through the burnt holes in the white cloth to be an amulet around her neck. The force I employed to pull it away was considerable and the lack of resistance I received from the damaged string made me stumble backwards. The hot metal burned my hand and I let it fall to the floor with a colourful curse.
“Mycroft!” Victoria exclaimed and was immediately at my side as I clutched my hand tightly. Despite the brief contact, it felt like the metal had wormed itself into my very flesh, making not only my palm feel like burning hot magma, but se
nding a heat radiating through my body that was like nothing I had ever experienced.
“Destroy that infernal thing!” I yelled and pushed her away. “Quickly, before it burns a hole into the floor!”
She whirled around to see the amulet already starting to set the carpet on fire. The wind outside had picked up to a frightening degree and roared fiercely. I hoped I had only imagined the ship tilting ever so slightly. Watson and Victoria had picked up heavy objects and brought them down on the piece of metal while I sat frozen, despite the agonizing pain.
Finally there was no denying the obvious, horrible truth any longer. We were facing powers beyond our understanding - something I had never thought possible. Time and time again I had pushed the facts out of my mind, but they always came back, stronger and more menacing than before. I could always rely on my wits and vast knowledge to make sense of everything that life threw at me, and my mental faculties had never once deserted me. But these... happenings had no logical explanation, no sensible root. I didn’t... simply couldn’t predict or use my intellect to work against them.
It frightened me like nothing else had in my life. There and then the reality of my situation sank in: I was on a ship, locked in a room with a woman, who could summon up the very forces of Nature itself to kill us all at any moment - possibly even sink the ship. How was I supposed to fight against... that?
A loud noise brought me back to the present and I saw Watson bring the handle of his pistol down onto the amulet repeatedly. He dented the metal and made parts of it fly into all directions. With a fierce determination he kept on hacking away until the amulet was all but a twisted, dented piece of metal. The smell of charred fabric mingled with the sweet aroma of burning flesh and made me feel sick. The cabin air was saturated with a thick, black smoke, which made it hard to breathe. As Victoria flung open the door, my gaze wandered automatically to our captive, but she was unconscious and unable to flee.
My arm was burning from the inside and the pain was too much for me to bear, so I followed her into the darkness.
