Glissanda Page 11

  But why didn’t Imogen wake me? I furiously pull on my clothes, strap on Fortissima, then bound down the stairs.

  “Imogen?” I call out when I reach the dining room below.

  The only person present is a man with a salt-and-pepper beard, casually sipping coffee at a table near the window. He slowly turns to look at me, then stands; removing his hat, he greets me with a deep bow.

  “You must be Raven Araroa,” he says when he returns to standing. “I’ve got some … news for you.”

  “And you are … ?”

  “I’m Captain Jones—you must have seen my ship outside at the dock, the White Eagle?”

  I close the distance between us in a split second and grab the man’s arms. “Please, tell me! Do you have my family on your ship?”

  “You might want to sit down.” He motions toward an empty chair next to him. But I shake my head. I’m fine standing.

  “M’lady, my crew and I left the Nor’western Islands a week ago, our trading complete. Our route is such that we follow the southern coast around to the port here, allowing the land breezes to carry us on. While underway, we came across a small ship, although from a distance we could tell it was in trouble, canted sharply. Sadly, when we got closer it was clear the ship had foundered on some uncharted rocks. I ordered a scout boat to be sent over, and when the crew returned, they had found only one survivor, adrift on a piece of flotsam. A woman, she was barely alive, chilled to the bone, and near to starvation. My crew said there was no sign of others, alive or … dead.”

  “Who—Where is she now? The woman?”

  The sea captain lowers his eyes. “I’m terribly sorry, m’lady. She passed, just before we entered the port. We tried to nurse her back to health, but to no avail. She said she was your godmother, Lilith.”

  I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth. The room starts to spin and the captain takes hold of one of my arms, gently guiding me down to a chair.

  I shake my head. “No, it can’t be true!” Tears are falling. I don’t bother wiping them away.

  The captain continues, his voice soft and gentle. “I also must tell you, m’lady, that your Lilith bore more frightful news, which she told us before she passed. She said the rest of your family had tried to swim ashore … but regretfully did not make it. She was the only one captured who’d survived. The seas had indeed been terrible the day before—our ship had been fighting them along the coast. My men had spotted a lifeboat ashore, but the dear lady said only the crew were allowed in it, and thus survived the shipwreck. I am terribly sorry.”

  I wipe my face with my sleeve. Captain Jones takes a cloth from his pocket, hands it to me. I blow my nose in it, then attempt to compose myself.

  “Where is she now?” I ask again.

  “Pardon?”

  “Where is Lilith’s body? I want to see her.” I stand up and make a motion toward the door.

  “She’s at rest on the ship. Shall I take you to her?”

  “Please.”

  I practically run to the dock, the captain easily keeping up behind me. I stop at the ship’s ladder, indicating for him to go first. Once aboard, he leads me across the deck, then down the ladder to the cabins below. The crew watches us the whole way, gaping silently.

  Jones opens a door and motions for me to enter a small cabin. It’s dark and takes a long time for my eyes to adjust. The captain opens the curtains covering a round porthole.

  The body is lying on the bottom bunk, covered by a dingy white sheet, the shape of her so slight, it hardly looks like anyone is even there. There is a smell in the room like old roses; I know it’s the oil applied to the body to keep the smell down until proper burial. But it doesn’t really work.

  “Shall I?” Captain Jones motions toward the sheet covering the body’s face.

  “Please,” I manage to croak out.

  He grasps onto the edge of the sheet, and slowly pulls it down, exposing the face and upper body.

  Brown hair streaked with gray is splayed out around the head resting on the white pillow. I reach out tentatively and touch the curls; they are soft and clean. The eyes are closed, lashes resting on pearlescent cheeks, mouth peaceful. Her hands are clasped together on her concave chest. I’m relieved to see someone has washed her and put a clean dress on her. Yellow, with blue flowers.

  I press my lips together, then look up at the captain.

  “I’m sorry to see this. I am,” I say. “But I have no idea who this woman is. This is not my godmother. This is not Miss Lilith.”

  Chapter 9

  “Of course, that’s dear Lilith. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen her. Hasn’t it, Raven?” It’s Imogen’s voice, in the doorway behind me.

  I don’t answer her, still staring down at this unknown woman. What is her story and why would she say she was Lilith?

  Captain Jones grasps the sheet in his hands. “May I?”

  I nod.

  He pulls the cloth back over the woman’s face.

  “I think I need some fresh air,” I say, turning to go.

  Imogen and I leave the ship together, heading back to the inn.

  “Let’s go to my room, so we can speak about this,” I whisper to her on the way.

  Once upstairs, I check the hallway to make sure we are alone, then close the door to my room.

  I fill her in with what the captain told me before we’d left to board his ship. “What do you think is going on?” I ask her, sinking down onto a chair.

  Imogen’s pacing back and forth, shaking her head. She finally stops to face me. “I’m not sure. But I have a feeling this is not an opportunity we want to squander. You sure it’s not Lilith?”

  “No way in hell is that Lilith. That poor deceased woman looks nothing like her—Lilith’s got straight gray hair and darker skin, besides. Why would that woman say she was Lilith?”

  “I think she was giving you an opportunity. Clearly your people were on that ship. It’s very possible they’ve actually gotten away. Of course, it’s possible they didn’t—” She stops herself when she sees my face.

  I shake my head. “No, they must have gotten away. That woman must be covering for them, I’m sure of it.” I consider the situation for a few seconds more. “Gods! You’re right! If everyone thinks my family perished in that shipwreck, then even if the Loyalists do bring them into the Bastion, the King will think they’re bringing in imposters.” I jump up, starting for the door. “I’ve got to go back to the ship, to tell Captain Jones I was mistaken. I’ll tell him I hadn’t seen Miss Lilith in so long, I just didn’t recognize her, that she’d aged since I’d seen her last … and with all the stress of being captured—” but my voice chokes with these words, knowing the last ones I’ve said are probably true.

  Imogen smiles. “Excellent plan, m’lady.”

  Captain Jones accepts my apology, clearly chalking my initial reaction up to the denial of grief. They bring the woman ashore, and plans are made for her burial later that afternoon.

  We hold a quiet ceremony, which brings far more curiosity than I’d hoped. Everyone keeps their distance, but my words in remembrance of my godmother, my mum, and my papa reach dozens of ears, and will no doubt reach dozens more before tomorrow.

  The closed casket is lowered into the ground. I throw four perfect white lilies on top of it, then the dirt follows.

  I wish I could say my tears were fake, but they were the most authentic part of the entire scene.

  There’s a quiet funeral dinner at the inn afterward, and I do my best to maintain my image of grief. I tell those who ask that I feel relief to have some closure … which is difficult, knowing I have anything but. Now I really have no idea where my family is, if they’re safe, or with Loyalists. Or—and this thought I put from my mind as soon as I think it—perhaps they never made it ashore, after all.

  Only one thing I do know: I’m not sitting around here any longer wondering.

  “I’m leaving at midnight,” I whisper to Imogen, who is seated next to me. �
��I’m going to the Bastion to find Leif and Tui, and we’re leaving to find my family.”

  She turns to me, a shocked look on her face. “Really, m’lady, I don’t think”—she looks around, lowers her voice—“I do not believe that is wise. I think we should wait here for the others. Catriona’s gone to get them … she’ll return soon, I’m sure of it.”

  “Nope. I’m leaving.” I stand up and start for the stairs to pack. Halfway up, I turn and address the room. “Thank you all for coming to say goodbye to my dear godmother with me. It’s been … a very sad but special day.”

  I don’t know who that woman was, but I silently thank her too, for her small gift.

  Murmurs of acknowledgment reach my ears and I turn again, running up the stairs with a small smile on my face.

  At midnight, the docks are unusually quiet for a ship in port, but as I go around to the back of the inn to get Pearl ready, I chalk this up to the grim cargo—the deceased woman—the Sea Eagle unloaded this morning.

  Imogen’s already at the stable. Will and Hamish too.

  “Thought Leif might like his horse,” she explains sheepishly. “Besides, no point in me waiting around here, either,” she adds—no doubt the real reason she’s decided to come with.

  She’s just pulled George’s saddle down from the rack; I motion for her to put it back. “Take Pango. If we are pursued, George is likely to expire from the effort. He’s a pleasant horse, but quite getting on in age.”

  Imogen pats George’s graying muzzle. “Excellent.”

  We’re soon off, Imogen and I riding, Will and Hamish on foot not far behind. I stroke Pearl’s mane as we ride into the forest that borders the port, making for the footpath, the fastest way back. Pearl trots with her head held high, clearly glad to be underway again.

  The moon is covered by thick clouds, it’s nearly impossible to see. But Pearl keeps on, knowing right where to go.

  A few hours later, the Bastion looms before us.

  “Where to now?” Imogen asks.

  Without thinking, I touch Fortissima and close my eyes. A vision of Leif and Tui and Callum fills my mind. I open my eyes and grin at Imogen.

  “Let’s check the northern gates again.”

  “Lead the way, m’lady,” she says.

  So I do.

  Even before they come into view, I can hear Tui snoring.

  Tui, Leif, and Callum are lying against the rusty bars of the northern gates, all three sound asleep. I jump down from Pearl and tiptoe up to Leif, placing my mouth next to his ear. “You might want to keep a better watch. Never know who’ll sneak past.”

  With his eyes still closed, his mouth curls up into a grin. Before I know what’s happened, he’s pulled me into his arms, I’m sprawled across his lap, and he’s leaning down to kiss me.

  “Wait”—I put my finger against his warm lips—“what did you find out?”

  He chuckles, then kisses my finger. “Plenty of time for that, later.” I let my hand drop and he leans the rest of the way down, placing an eager kiss on my mouth.

  Someone nearby clears their throat. I glance over at Imogen, who’s dismounted from Pango and is standing a few feet away. “Perhaps we should go?” It’s not really a suggestion.

  “Sure thing.” Leif jumps up, pulling me with him, and swings his pack over his shoulder.

  “But what—” I start.

  “Shhh … I’ll tell you all of it. Imogen’s right, we should get out of here before the next guard comes along.” He gives Tui a nudge with his foot. “Get up, big boy. We’re off duty.”

  Tui awakes with a start. “Wha—oh! Raven! It’s good to see you.” He looks around, frantically checking the dark, then back at me. “Where’s Cat?”

  “She’s not with you?”

  He shakes his head, then runs a hand through his wild black hair, ruffling it so it stands up even more. “She supposed to be with me?”

  “Er, that was the plan. She left the port over a day ago to come find you.”

  Tui jumps up. “Something’s happened.”

  I reach out for his arm. “No, we don’t know that—” But he’s already closed the distance between us and Pango. He swiftly mounts his horse, grasps the reins, and is about to turn to go when there’s the sound of boots coming closer, marching over the stones inside the Bastion.

  “Let’s go, Raven. Or else we’re going to have company.” Leif’s tugging me toward Pearl. I jump atop her and Leif swings himself up behind me.

  The night has grown cool, but it’s Leif’s warm body pressing against me that causes me to shiver. “We really should go,” he whispers in my ear. I hadn’t even realized I’d hesitated, and give Pearl a gentle nudge to move.

  She takes three steps when I stop her again. I look behind me, at Tui, sitting atop Pango, unmoving. He’s staring into the gates of the Bastion.

  “Tui! Are you coming or what?”

  He glances at me with furrowed brows, then back at the gates. He mutters some bitter words under his breath, along with Catriona’s name, then gives Pango a kick to follow me.

  The northern gates are quickly out of view as we move toward the safety of the trees between the Bastion and the port. Imogen and the others follow on foot, keeping a careful lookout.

  When we’re well away and back in the cover of the forest, I stop Pearl and turn to look at Leif directly. “Where were you? You were supposed to be at the gates two days ago. But when we came by, none of you were there. We kept on to the port after that.

  “Did the ship come? With your family?”

  “Don’t change the subject. But, no, obviously it didn’t.”

  “Oh, ah. We kind of got tied up that night.”

  Tui snorts.

  I swing my head to look at him. “Out with it, Tui. And Leif.”

  “It’s Callum’s fault,” Leif says, a corner of his mouth turning up into a grin.

  “No it was not!” Callum’s voice is muffled, then I realize that’s because he’s taking a leak behind a tree. He appears, straightening his belt. “It was Leif’s idea.”

  I jam my elbow into Leif’s side. “Out with it.”

  “You going to throw me off this horse again?” He raises a brow, the rest of his mouth breaking into one of his classic grins.

  “Only if you deserve it.”

  Leif’s grin quickly fades; he grinds his teeth nervously.

  “Well, I, ah … we were … heading to the gates when we passed by Hannah’s house. And I just thought … I just wanted to make sure she’d gotten home okay, after all that had happened.”

  A burn starts to spread across my face, and my heartbeat rapidly speeds up. I had hoped never to hear about this Hannah again, after all the trouble she’s caused. I still blame her for convincing Leif to help her escape from the now-defunct northern prison camp, which only ended up with her being returned to the camp and, far worse, Leif in Araroa’s dungeon—as bait for me.

  I take a deep breath and try to keep my voice even. “And was she okay?”

  “Aye, she was.”

  “So, what was your holdup then?”

  “Callum.”

  “Hey!” Callum interjects. “It wasn’t my fault we hit it off when we were in that awful camp. When can we go back, by the way, to see Hannah? Soon, I hope?”

  “Well, I don’t know about Hannah, but I need to find Catriona,” Tui says.

  I give Tui an exasperated look. He drops his gaze to the ground and is quiet.

  “Please tell me you weren’t hanging around Hannah’s house and didn’t make it to the gates.”

  Leif doesn’t respond right away, but Tui does. “Go easy on Leif, Raven. He tried to get us out of there, but then they served dinner and ale … and before we knew it our shift was just about over, and we knew the next lot would be on their way. So we decided to just stay for the night—oh, that didn’t sound good.”

  “We slept outside, in the yard,” Leif adds comfortingly. “I’m really sorry we weren’t there, but I knew you’d be bac
k to check.”

  “And you were right. Anyway, I believe you.” I hop down from Pearl to stretch my legs, and Leif and Tui do the same.

  “Are we done with all this?” Imogen says with an annoyed tone. “We’ve got far more important matters to discuss. What did the three of you learn from the Loyalists?”

  Leif makes a noise of disgust in his throat. “Well firstly, those bastards are as horrible as we’ve always thought them to be. Oh, the things they said, Raven. Truly despicable.”

  “That’s not surprising. But start at the beginning!” I beg.

  “Sure thing. The three of us laid low after you saw us join up on the road. Told them we’d been to take a piss—”

  “Yes, I heard.” I try unsuccessfully to suppress a smile, remembering that.

  “So, we continued on with them all day, pretty much how you saw. There were lots of breaks here and there, to have a smoke or a chew. Slow going, really. We didn’t speak much, I didn’t want to give myself away, what with my Bastion accent and all.”

  I smirk at him. “You don’t have a Bastion accent. You talk just like the rest of us provincial people.”

  “What? Really? And I thought you liked me for my sophisticated talk all this time.”

  I laugh. He’s sure in good spirits. “Go on.”

  “All right. We kept on until it got dark, the three of us trying not to vomit at all the talk around us.” His voice is no longer jovial. “It was just awful. Lewd jokes—about the Woman Kings of old. Worse—jokes about you, I hate to say. Terrible commentary about Treasoners, and what they’d like to do to them if given the chance. I guess Loyalists need to tell themselves such things to keep up the illusion that they are right.”

  “That’s not surprising.”

  “No, it’s not. When we finally made camp that evening, they got out the spirits—cheap and poorly made, nothing like Papa’s, might I add—and that’s when I got my chance to get them to let it all out. Of course, I had to endure even worse jokes and comments, but I finally got one chap to get talking. Started small at first, like where he was from—southeast, he said, obviously not keen on being specific. ‘How long do you plan to stay in the Bastion?’ I asked him, figuring that was an easy enough question.” Leif pauses, takes a deep breath. “He said, ‘As long as it takes.’ I wasn’t sure how to get more out of him, then decided to wait for him to have a few more slugs from his spirit bottle. Good call, that, as the next thing I knew, he was going on and on about Dominic’s coronation, how they’d all be celebrating when that happens.”