The Pirate (Captains & Cannons Book 1)

by Galen Surlak-Ramsey

  “I must say, Master Ethan,” the lich said, as he made a steady approach while his pistol magically reloaded itself. “You are indeed a loyal one, right to the end, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to be your end if you don’t let her go,” he shot back.

  The lich chuckled, and then he did a second time when a dozen armed skeletons came into the room from different entrances. “You’ll serve as a good example to the rest of the world,” he said. “I want you to know that your death will have a purpose.”

  “Sorry, I don’t have any plans on dying,” Ethan replied.

  “We can’t always get what we want,” Lord Belmont said, rounding the column Ethan hid behind. “And now you die. For good, this time.”

  The lich raised his weapon, and Ethan threw the amulet with a sidearm toss. Seeing his prized possession sail through the air, Lord Belmont couldn’t help but follow its arc across the throne room and into the jaws of an oversized jackal.

  “Run, Maii!” Ethan shouted. “Just get it out of here!”

  “What!” Lord Belmont spun around, only to find that Ethan had disappeared. Instinctively, he took a shot where the man had once been propped up, but his bullet hit nothing.

  “Find him! Tear him apart the moment you do!” Lord Belmont screamed at his servants. “I’ll take care of the dog.”

  The chase renewed, and his quarry this time was even faster than before. The jackal darted through the citadel with such speed and cunning, the lich was forced to admit that he nearly lost him twice. Soon, however, Lord Belmont began shutting doors and locking them with magical wards as he closed in on the animal. Sure, in the short term, he fell further and further behind, but it didn’t take long for this proverbial noose he’d created to tighten. Eventually, he cornered the animal in the tearoom.

  “Hand it over, pup,” Lord Belmont said, marching steadily toward the creature who was currently hiding under a small, round table. When the jackal didn’t move, the lich took out his pistol and fired. The bullet, aimed precisely where he’d intended, ripped through the tabletop and zipped by the animal’s head, missing it by less than an inch.

  “I know you can understand me,” the lich said, narrowing his eyes. “Now bring me my amulet or things will get much, much worse.”

  The jackal tensed and glanced both left and right before sighing with resignation. He then eased out from beneath the table, amulet held firmly by its chain in his mouth. The animal barely took two steps before Lord Belmont’s blood raged. He bolted forward, closing the distance between himself and the jackal in less than a second, tossing chairs and tables left and right in the process. He then swiped the amulet from the jackal’s mouth with his clawed fingers and held it up to confirm what he’d already come to realize.

  “A fake?” he muttered. “A fake! A FAKE!”

  Whatever cheap illusion had been cast on the amulet faded. Now, instead of regaining his precious artifact made of gold and ruby, Lord Belmont had in hand a simple copper pendant on an even simpler chain. For several seconds, the lich stared at it in both horror and fury, but when he saw the jackal trying to slip away and realized his staff hummed with energy, he sprang into action.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he sneered. The lich whipped his staff overhead in a high arc with one hand and extended his other with fingers outstretched.

  Shadowy tendrils sprang from the ground and wrapped themselves around the jackal’s legs. The animal struggled and yelped, trying to break free, but the coils grew stronger and more numerous. In a few short breaths, they pulled him to the ground where he lay helpless.

  “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Lord Belmont said, walking over to him. Initially, he’d planned on caving in the animal’s skull with his staff, simply to release all of his frustrations, but when he got within a couple of feet of the creature, Lord Belmont paused and cocked his head to one side. “Well, well, well,” he said slowly and with a devious smile. “Seems as if the amulet wasn’t the only thing with an illusion around here.”

  The jackal lunged forward in a panic, vainly trying to break free, but went nowhere.

  “Speak, pup,” Lord Belmont said. “You can stop the charade. We both know what you are.”

  The jackal relaxed and slowly turned his head so that he was facing the lich directly. “I know you’re without your ruby,” he said. “And I know you won’t last much longer.”

  Lord Belmont nodded but was unconcerned about any of it. “You may be right about the first part, at least for now,” he said. “As for the latter? I’m afraid I’m going to live much, much longer than you think. Moreover, you can serve me for the rest of time as well.”

  The lich lowered his staff and pointed its head at the animal. He spoke softly, carefully intoning every syllable in the spell he was casting. After all, taking over a creature as powerful and magnificent as this one was, even if it was young, had to be done with the utmost care.

  “Ego dominum puppatae, etu perpetumas.”

  To the animal’s credit, he resisted being dominated for longer than Lord Belmont had anticipated, but not by much.

  Not by much at all.

  # # #

  The spell of invisibility finally wore off, and though it had lasted long enough for Ethan to avoid being shot—again—by Lord Belmont, Ethan would’ve loved for it to have lasted at least another five minutes. Hell, as long as he was wishing, an hour would’ve been nice.

  As luck would have it, Ethan flickered back into plain sight as he rounded the corner to a long hall. It had dozens of decorative suits of armor flanking each side and beautiful tapestries depicting centuries’ worth of history hanging from the walls. Some looked like religious scenes, with robed monks wearing looks of penance upon their faces and halos upon their heads, while others showed kings and queens throughout the ages sitting on thrones or leading vast armies. Ethan had always had a soft spot for medieval history, and he’d have liked to check them out a bit more if it hadn’t been for the whole rescue-Zoey-from-the-lich thing. That, and two skeletal guards who’d just burst into the hall from a side passage, each with a cutlass in hand.

  With at least a dozen of such things chasing him from behind, Ethan did the only thing that seemed smart: he charged.

  Ethan’s rusty sword, a weapon he’d lifted off an unfortunate soul in the bone room, flashed through the air. The skeleton nimbly shot to the right before issuing a thrust of his own that nicked Ethan’s ear.

  The skeleton dodges!

  A skeleton grazes you!

  Ethan bolted to the side, keeping the undead minion he was fighting between himself and the other, and attacked again, this time trying to anticipate where the skeleton might end up jumping. To his delight, he succeeded. His blade cut across the monster’s forearms, hacking each one off a few inches below the elbow.

  Skeleton hit!

  Skeleton moderately wounded!

  Critical failure!

  Weapon dropped!

  Ethan smiled. It was nice to hear that in reference to someone else for a change. The next exchange, which was very much lopsided in Ethan’s favor, saw him cleaving through the skeleton’s head with a well-placed backhand.

  Skeleton killed!

  You feel slightly more experienced!

  The remaining skeleton, now no longer having to deal with the other as an impromptu shield between it and Ethan, lunged forward. Its first attack sliced through nothing but air, and Narrator reported it as such, but the second managed to hit Ethan. Though he caught the creature’s blade on his, as their two swords became locked together, the skeleton caught Ethan with a left cross that left his cheek bruised.

  A skeleton lightly wounds you!

  Ethan beat a hasty retreat, keeping his guard up, until the momentary daze wore off. The skeleton, however, pressed its advantage. Sadly for it, more than it should have. It tried to take Ethan with a low thrust to the gut, which Ethan knocked away before hacking it twice: one that chopped a limb at the shoulder and then a follo
w up that severed its spine between ribcage and pelvis.

  Skeleton killed!

  You feel slightly more experienced!

  “You’re damn skippy!” Ethan said, feeling quite good about himself. The words had no sooner left his mouth when the arm of the first began to drag itself back to its former body. “Oh, come on,” Ethan moaned, backing away. “That’s not fair at all.”

  Then more skeletons came from behind, six altogether, and after briefly glancing at their fallen comrades, spread out shoulder-to-shoulder, and marched toward Ethan.

  “And that’s really not fair,” Ethan said before spinning on his heels and bolting away.

  At the end of the hall, he hooked left and ran through an inner courtyard that had a large fountain in the middle before entering a door at the far side. There, he went left down another tapestry-laden hall before making a buttonhook and racing up a narrow spiral staircase and finding himself in a study.

  “Hot damn,” Ethan said, realizing where he was. Or rather, realizing where he was in accordance with Maii’s instructions on how to get to the apothecary room.

  He shot across the study and plowed through the door on the right. From there, he only had to make a short run down an L-shaped corridor with servant quarters on each side before he reached his destination.

  The apothecary room looked about as big as a small shop at a busy strip mall. A couple of long tables stood in the middle with dozens of glass beakers, flasks, and distillation columns, along with burners, rubber tubing, and stands sitting on their tops. On all sides of the room were tall wooden shelves. Most had reagents carefully arranged in some method Ethan wasn’t privy to. However, one side had a bookshelf filled with countless books and tomes. It also happened to be the shelf closest to the door.

  Immediately, Ethan shut the door behind him, flipped the latch, and then toppled the bookshelf to create a makeshift barricade. When it crashed on to the floor, Ethan wondered if that wasn’t the best of ideas. If every skeleton, creature, monster, and lich in this fortress didn’t know where he was before, they certainly did now.

  “No time to worry about that, Ethan,” he said to himself. “Got to make some dragon’s breath and melt this gem.”

  Focused on the task, Ethan pulled the amulet from under his shirt and set it inside one of the empty beakers on the table. He then raced to one of the shelves that stored powders and began sifting through all their names, looking for…for…

  Crap, what was he looking for?

  Ethan swore a few times as he shook his head, trying to remember what Maii had said. “It’s very simple,” Ethan mimicked in his best jackal voice. “All you need to do is mix…mix…”

  His mind went blank, and then even blanker still when something slammed into the door.

  “Come on! Think! Think! Think!” Ethan said, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. He started snatching random jars filled with metallic powders. He knew he didn’t need any of the roots or herbs on the other shelves, and he didn’t need any of the liquids, either. Or did he?

  The door rattled a few times before something hit it again and then a third time. Each blow reverberated loudly in Ethan’s ears, and he had no doubt the door would be exploding into a hail of splinters in short order.

  “You got this. You got this,” Ethan said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You only need two things? Right? Yeah, that’s it. ‘All you need is something and something, Ethan.’”

  His mind drifted further into the conversation he had had with the jackal, hoping it would spark his memory. “What if I get it wrong?”

  “If you’re lucky, nothing,” he answered himself. “But seeing how you’ve no idea what you’re doing, with all those reagents at your disposal, you could blow up half the castle for all I know. So, try and not be, well, you, and do something stupid.”

  Again, the door boomed. Ethan snapped his head up in time to see it split down one side. A half second later, another hit came. This time, however, it didn’t seem as if it was done with a battering ram. It was an ax blade that cut into the wood, further splitting the door.

  On the verge of panic, Ethan wished to God he’d specced a little more into his intellect from the start. Maybe then he’d have been able to remember what Maii had said, or at least have his memory spark when he read the labels to all the jars. Or hell, he could have turned out to be an expert in Chemistry, at which point he could’ve mixed a miniature neutron bomb with everything in the room.

  But no, all he knew he was good for at this point was to do something dumb.

  “Something dumb,” Ethan repeated as a dumb, desperate plan sprung in his mind.

  Immediately, Ethan bolted to one of the tables and snagged a hefty iron pot and slammed it down on the other table with the amulet. At that point, he tossed the amulet in, and as the door came under a renewed, relentless attack by both ram and ax, Ethan grabbed everything that he could that looked cool or smelled downright terrible (of which there was a lot) and tossed it into the pot.

  He threw in powders that glinted in the light or looked as dark as a demon’s heart. Potions that bubbled and churned were poured without a second thought (except for a small healing potion he found, which he promptly tucked away), and herbs that felt as if they wiggled in his fingers also found their way into the brew.

  “Come on. Come on,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I just need one colossal, lethal fail, just this once.”

  The door burst, sending wood fragments flying in all directions. As the skeletons poured in, shoving each other forward as they stumbled through the narrow doorway and were tripped up by the overturned bookshelf, Ethan glanced at his homemade brew, hoping it was about to do something.

  The surface, a dark swirl of browns and greens, bubbled. Wisps of gray smoke took to the air, and with them came a nearly overpowering acrid smell. In his heart, Ethan felt as if it were about to do something—or would if he had a few more minutes. Sadly, he knew there was no way he’d last that long.

  A flicker of light caught his attention. A couple of feet away, an oil lamp burned steadily.

  Ethan immediately snatched it up, and he sucked in a breath. “God, I hope all you need is a nudge.”

  The closest skeleton leaped toward him right as he threw the oil lamp into the pot and dove for cover.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Released

  The ghast leaned over Zoey.

  It drew back its thin lips to reveal a maw of razor-sharp, crooked teeth. Putrid goo dripped from its mouth, splattering the vampire on the cheek. Though she teetered on the edge of death, thoroughly dazed, she realized she didn’t have much time before the monster decided to make a snack out of her, despite Lord Belmont’s orders not to.

  “You really need a mint,” she said, turning her head to the side and coughing.

  The ghast answered with a snarl before grabbing her head and lunging toward her, jaw open. Its teeth bit down where her neck met her shoulder. Zoey screamed and tried to pull away, but the chains held fast. The ghast whipped its head to the side, tearing a large amount of flesh in the process and sending what little blood Zoey had left inside of her flying across the room.

  Before the monster could take a second bite, a faraway explosion thundered, causing the room to shake and debris to fall from the ceiling. The ghast froze in place and trembled for a half second before screeching like a banshee and disintegrating into dust.

  Zoey lost consciousness a few seconds later.

  She awoke to being shaken by familiar hands. Her eyes opened, and though her vision was dark and blurry, and all she could see were the vague forms of stone columns in the ritual room as well as the lanterns that hung from them, she knew something was different. Not just with the room, but with herself. She felt whole again.

  Weak, but whole. Her senses that had been dulled for so long had returned. If she concentrated, she could hear the sounds of another breathing nearby, and if she took in a slow, deep breath, she could pick up the un
ique scent of cedar from the ship she and Ethan had arrived on.

  Had Ethan succeeded in destroying the ruby? Was she free of Lord Belmont’s curse? She couldn’t come up with any other explanation and thus dared to hope. But at the same time, she wondered if blood loss was taking its toll and all of this was a figment of her imagination.

  If it was, it could be worse, she thought.

  “Zoey, for the love of all, please be alive,” Ethan said, suddenly appearing in her view. His form, like everything else around her, was hard to focus on, but there was no way she could ever mistake anyone else for him. She knew that adorkably sweet, panicked voice, and she definitely knew the soft touch his fingers gave as he stroked the sides of her face.

  “I’m alive,” she said. Though she managed the words, they took all she had, and she nearly passed out again just getting them into existence. “But how are you not dead?”

  “Took Nine Lives Rank One,” he said. “Then used all my luck to not die in that bomb I set off.”

  Zoey gave a pained laugh. “I can’t believe you took that stupid perk,” she said. “Check that. I can.”

  “That stupid perk is going to save your life, too,” he said, taking her jab in stride.

  “Does this mean you destroyed the gem?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, nodding. “And half the apothecary room, and the hall leading to it, and whatever was on the floor below. Now, hang on. I’m going to get you out of there.”

  Ethan kissed her lightly on the forehead before disappearing. Zoey tried smiling at the gesture but ended up wincing as a massive headache landed on her. She managed to lift her head off the stone slab long enough to look herself over. The flesh where the ghast had bitten her had been turned to ribbons, and both her arms still had deep cuts where her blood had been spilled. Chances were, she knew, even with the curse gone, she didn’t have long to live. Vampires were tough, tougher than most, but they were far from immortal.