Chasing the Lantern (22 page)

Mordecai shoved the others toward the line. As first mate it fell to him to be more calculated, more reasonable. If Perinese sailors were waiting, he needed to be able to call out warning from his higher vantage.

No one arose on the wreck of the
Albatross
. Heads didn't poke up from behind the gunwales or from beneath the forecastle. No crewmen ducked out in alarm at the noise on the beach. Natasha hit the sand followed by the others in the first wave, seeming for all the world the only ones around.

Mordecai frowned at the lack of reaction and took the bow-rope in his own gloved hands. He slid down it, shoulder aching still from the arcane attack he'd suffered during the fight with Fengel's Men. He touched the sand of the beach with a thump and drew his sword.

The crew were faltering in their charge. No one rose up to fight them off; they weren't certain how to proceed. Mordecai ran up to Natasha, walking now at the lead. His captain had quieted as well, wary and watching still for defenders or sudden ambush.

The
Albatross
merely sat there. Long shadows cast by the setting sun fell down from the rigging onto the argent river. The only noises to be heard were the raspy calls of the flying lizards in the trees, the whirr of the
Dawnhawk's
propellers, and the occasional hoot of a gibbon.

Natasha came to a stop three dozen feet from the broken hull. "Where are all the sailors?" she asked.

Mordecai glanced about. "There
should
be a few here."

"Maybe I was right."

He shook his head. "No. They wouldn't have left this all alone, and they couldn't carry all the treasure on foot, not all the way to Breachtown."

Natasha smiled. "Well then. A mystery." She turned back to her crewmen on the beach. "All right, lads! Get aboard and search it out!" She looked at Mordecai. "I never had much patience for mysteries. Let's see if Fengel's information was good."

The crew threw ropes and grapples up onto the gunwales to climb aboard. Mordecai picked four of the ablest standing nearby, and followed Natasha up to the breach in the hull. The opening was just past the sandbar, where the waters of the river formed a large tidal pool. Ropes, broken wood, and other junk floated just beneath it. Whatever rock had cracked the ship had done its job well. The breach in the hull was as wide as three men.

Mordecai gestured for two men to go ahead. They splashed down into the pool and waded over to the breach, cutlasses out and at the ready. Nothing jumped out at them, so Natasha waded over as well, then clambered up into the hole. She was silent a moment, then let loose a long low whistle. The pair of pirates beneath her began laughing and hooting.

"Get over here Mordecai," said his captain. "You're going to want to see this.

Mordecai sheathed his blade and moved across the pool, and then up into the breach to stand beside Natasha. The cargo hold was like many other seagoing vessels he'd seen. It was long and tall, extending all the way up to a hatch in the upper-deck. And it was crammed full. Crates, chests, coffers, and urns packed it from one end to the other, stern to bow and port to starboard. These had all shifted during the rough journey, and several were cracked and broken open to the fading light of day. In the shadows Mordecai spied gold bars, thick silver coins and casks of jewels.

A pirate splashed down next to them, out of breath. It was Guye Farrel. "Captain, first mate," he said. As he gasped the boil on his neck visibly throbbed. Mordecai tried in vain to ignore it. "There's no one aboard the rest of the ship. Found signs of life, though, and there are tracks leading into the jungle."

Mordecai caught Natasha's eye and jumped down out of the hold. "Show me," he said to the pirate.

Farrel led him back around to the far side of the ship. Cook-fire pits, lean-tos, and crates of salvaged goods all huddled under the masts and torn rigging. The sand was kicked all about, dark patches staining it liberally. There were no corpses, or live sailors from the
Albatross
.

Reaver Jane appeared from beneath a bit of sailcloth. She moved with only a slight limp, a gift from Fengel. That was good; she was one of Natasha's more trustworthy lieutenants. "Signs of struggle, sir," she said. "Maybe twenty people, some injured. Taken by surprise, looks like. Two days old or so, by the blood."

Mordecai frowned. "Where are the bodies? Who attacked them?"
And why would they have left the treasure?

Jane shook her head. "Dunno, sir. Bodies are all gone, sailors or attackers alike. There's tracks leading off into the jungle." She gestured. "Don't look human, though."

The first mate raised an eyebrow. "Not human? Ogres?" That fit. He'd heard tales of a few tribes within reach of Breachtown. Such savages wouldn't have any need for the gold and silver in the hold, but plenty for the meat of the crewmen.

Jane shrugged. "Dunno, sir. Something else kind of odd." She gripped the hilt of the knife at her belt, as if nervous.

"Show me."

Jane led Mordecai up from the wreckage towards the tree line of the jungle. It rose up, thick and green and smelling strongly of plant life. Away from the wreckage of the
Albatross
, tracks could be made out. Mordecai knelt to take a closer look at them. They were strange, longer than that of a man by several inches, and not booted in any way. There were three toes, long and claw-tipped, with the heel ending in a fourth talon. Mordecai looked up at the jungle and narrowed his eyes. These didn't belong to ogres. But as far as he was concerned, the result was probably the same.

"You've heard the rumors," he said, turning back to Jane and those crew who had followed. "All manner of strange creatures inhabit this land. Looks like they got the Perinese sailors." He smiled. "But apparently, they lack a taste for gold."

He stood and looked back at the
Dawnhawk
. It floated golden in the light of the setting sun, dramatic against the backdrop of the Stormwall. Thick clouds roiled out of the unnatural barrier, some of them almost right overhead. In fact, it was growing darker all around them, and not just from the setting sun. Wispy clouds were forming overhead, split off from the fury of the perpetual storm and heading right for them.

"Jane," said Mordecai. "Get back aboard and have Konrad come in close. Get the ship anchored to this wreck and start moving the treasure aboard." He pointed at another pirate. "Kevyn, take a detachment of ten or so and keep watch on this jungle.
Don't
let anyone go in by themselves, and if you hear or see something strange,
raise the Goddess-damned alarm
. I don't plan to be taken by surprise the way those last poor bastards were. And all of you, get a move on, I don't like the look of those clouds coming in. Last thing I want to have to do is work in the rain."

The pirates all scurried off to their tasks. Guye Farrel stood, looking stupid, waiting for orders. Mordecai ignored him and returned to his captain.

The
Dawnhawk
came in closer. Lines were dropped and tied off to the rigging of the
Albatross
. Exuberant pirates swarmed over the wreck, grabbing everything of value and everything not nailed down. Mordecai worked with Natasha in the hold.

The crew aboard their airship threw down more ropes, along with wide cargo nets. Mordecai arranged a system for packing up the loot and moving it to the ship while Natasha took stock in the hold. Before long a steady stream of treasure was moving from the hold, over the tide pool, and onto the sand to be lifted up. He almost wanted to smile. They had taken some good hauls in their time, but this was ridiculous. Instead, he kept a careful eye out. Natasha's crew was well trained, but they
were
pirates. Stealing from the take was a known death sentence, but there was always someone who thought they could get away with it.

Aside from the gold and silver, there was still much worth taking. Logbooks, maps, and equipment stores abounded on the Perinese warship. Mordecai left the hold to review it, then ordered it all packed up. None were worth even a fraction of the take in the holds, but the Perinese vessel was a modern one. Everything aboard had value to someone.

The sun sank lower as they worked. Finished overseeing the sack of the officer's cabins, Mordecai returned to the hold and Natasha. There he found Guye Farrel standing near her with a wine bottle. Mordecai yelled at him and sent him scurrying off to move the crates. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him; apparently she had ordered the man to attend her. He shrugged. There were more important things to worry about. Namely, that they had not found the fabled Governor's gemstone anywhere aboard. She spoke first.

"You know," said Natasha. "I almost want to thank Fengel for stealing the
Dawnhawk
. I've never seen so much loot in my life. We've had to pull down some of the provisions and spare light-air canisters to make room for it all." She wore a silver crown, thirteen golden chain necklaces, and drank the wine Farrel had poured from a tall golden chalice they'd found amongst the treasure.

Mordecai frowned. "We'd have heard about this wreck soon enough. And it isn't as if this trip hasn't cost us."

"Yes," she replied with a snort. "Fengel's a silly bastard. But he always manages to make more trouble for me." Her visage darkened, and the knuckles of her fingers went white around her goblet. "I had to ask my father, Mordecai. I had to
ask
my
father
to take that rattletrap garbage scow of his. And he was so proud."

Mordecai rolled his eyes.
Oh, here we go.

His captain curled a lip in irritation. She was looking past him now, somewhen distant. "He'll be upset that the
Queen
is gone, but you know what? Euron will be so damned happy it all worked out that I doubt he'll notice much. He will be able to say that I couldn't have done it without him. And in his eyes it'll be more confirmation that I'm not any
better
than he was in his heyday." Natasha fell silent, surrounded by a fortune, brooding into her goblet.

Mordecai glowered, irritated by her old complaint. "Well," he said. "That's a problem for later. As for Fengel, he's paid. The man is either drowned in the Sea or is well on his way to starvation."

Natasha frowned abruptly and looked up at him, dismay cutting through her black mood. Mordecai felt a small, petty pleasure at the sight. He knew she still cared for her husband, at least a little. Maybe this would shake her out of it. He turned away to help move another chest of gold.

The work continued as the sun set below the horizon. They didn't even have twilight to work with; the scattered rainclouds he feared dropped onto them faster than the light could fade. Fortunately, by then most of the treasure had been hoisted, or was on its way up. Konrad and the other crew aboard the
Dawnhawk
had quieted. At first they had called excited queries at those in the hold below, whooping in excitement as they brought the first loads aboard. But even the richest treasure lost its luster when compared to the monotony of moving it.

Mordecai jumped down from the breach in the
Albatross
to the pool. He walked around the laboring pirates and past the current pile being assembled in a cargo net for transport, the last one for the night. He made his way to the beach and then up the sand past the stern of the wrecked ship. Beyond, the jungle loomed, dark and impenetrable. The strange lizards had quieted and the gibbons fallen silent. Reaver Jane's picket stood, lackadaisical and unhappy at their task.

They need a thrashing
, he thought. Bored guards were useless guards. But more importantly, they needed light. The thick jungle, and the heavy clouds just above them were drowning them in darkness. Much longer and they wouldn't be able to see their hands before their faces, and that would be the perfect time for an ambush.

Torches. There should be plenty aboard. Or at least lanterns. The Mechanist should be able to whip up—

Something was wrong. His instincts sang out. He had noticed something, out of the corner of his eye mayhap. Something that didn't belong...

Mordecai turned back to look down at the beach and the airship there. The crew worked busily below it, tying up the latest cargo net of treasure for their mates above to hoist to safety. The
Dawnhawk
floated at anchor three dozen feet above, lower in the air than when they'd started. Thick grey rainclouds crowned the gas-bag frame of their airship. But seen from out here, they were incomplete, thin things. More of a mist than real clouds. Through them, he glimpsed something else entirely.

Another airship.

The
Copper Queen
floated just above the
Dawnhawk
, cloaked by the unnatural clouds just beneath it. It looked terrible, black hull scorched and smoking in places, the gas-bag frame sagging on one side. Ropes and chains hung loose, frayed or broken from their moorings. It looked like it had fought a war and lost.

That wasn't the worst, however. Figures were rappelling quietly down on dropped ropes, presumably landing atop the hidden gasbag of the
Dawnhawk
. None of his lookouts atop the ship called out.

"Alarm!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Boarders atop the
Dawnhawk!
Get back aboard, get back aboard!"

He drew his sword and dashed back down the beach. The crew all about him stared stupidly. Natasha stuck her head out from the hold of the
Albatross
. They all looked around wildly at the sound of gunshots ringing out from the deck of the airship above them.

"Blades at hand!" cried Natasha. She stared past him at the gloom of the tree line. "Pull back to the wreck!"

Mordecai snarled in frustration. "No! Above! We're being attacked from above!"

Natasha stared at him. "What? Who? How?"

"It's your damned husband!"

Gunshots rang out from the deck of the airship above. Mordecai ignored them. He ran down to the cargo net full of treasure, tied and connected to the ship by a rope. He sheathed his sword and leapt onto the cable, climbing up toward the
Dawnhawk
.