Wake of the Bloody Angel (36 page)

It had the same bulbous head with at least one round eye. The oblong pupil, black as Rody Hawk’s soul, was big enough to reflect me full- length, which it was in fact doing. I froze, hoping that if it saw no movement, it would think it had been mistaken, but that was futile. This was a staring contest I’d never win. It knew damn well I was there and had nowhere to go.

The odor was ghastly as well. The creature on the ship had smelled like this, but here it was a thousand times stronger, and my gag reflex barely held on. This was what I’d smelled but couldn’t identify: the stink of the monster.

Two thick tentacles rose from the water, weaved a bit in the air, and then grasped a pair of thick stalactites. The creature lifted itself farther from the pool. For the first time, I wondered if it might not be just aquatic, but amphibious as well.

Not that it mattered, because its tentacles were plenty long enough to reach me. It was in the process of illustrating this, as a half-dozen arms unrolled their way across the cave floor, guided by that looming, all-seeing eye.

I desperately rattled the treasure vault door. Alas, the lock was sturdy. I slashed at the first tentacle tip near me, and it withdrew like a burnt finger. The others halted their advance. I glanced at the hole in the ceiling, using all my will to conjure a battalion of Suhonens dropping through to save my ass. They did not appear.

I couldn’t get over the partition wall, or behind the vault’s bars. I couldn’t attack a vulnerable spot on the monster, because none were within my reach. I thought of throwing my boot knife at the enormous eye, but I figured the last thing I wanted to do was seriously piss this thing off. If I was very lucky, it would crush me to death quickly before stuffing me into the shiny black beak that waited below the water. If I made it mad, though, it might toy with me.

More tentacles appeared, grabbing the edge of the pool and providing more leverage. The creature surged up even more, sending a wave at me that soaked me to the waist. The good thing was that if I wet myself like Duncan, it wouldn’t show. I’d be squid food with the appearance of dignity.

The water went through the bars and shifted Black Edward’s corpse. I could see his skull- face now, grinning at my predicament. A fine way to treat a fellow Arentian in trouble.

By now, the monster’s bulk blocked most of the light. If it rose much higher, all it would need to do was fall on me. There seemed to be no way out; I seriously considered cutting my own throat just to get this over with. But I knew that no matter what, I’d go down fighting.

Then a woman’s voice said, “Don’t hurt it again!”

I looked around. I saw no one, and it was such a ludicrous request, I called back, “Okay!”

“If you make it mad, I can’t stop it.”

That sounded reasonable, even though I had no idea who was speaking, where she was, or what she had planned. “So what do I do?”

“Just stand there and be quiet.”

I did. The tentacles did not attack again. In fact, they withdrew into the water. The ones attached to the ceiling released themselves as well. Slowly, so that very little water was disturbed, the massive monster sank back into the pool. It managed to keep that lone spooky eye above water until the last moment, looking at me with crustacean malevolence. Then with a ripple, it was gone. The water around me receded.

I waited until every last wavelet had vanished from sight before peeling myself loose from the bars. I crept around the end of the wall, the whole time watching the pool. When I reached the other side of the partition, I finally saw my rescuer.

She squatted by the pool, two big empty jugs beside her. She wore a man’s vest and ragged pants cut into shorts. She was barefoot, and her skin was deeply tanned. Her hair was wavy and untamed, and bits of leaves and other debris clung to it. I couldn’t see her face; she concentrated all her attention on the water.

“Just stay there,” she called. “This stuff puts it to sleep, but not for long and not if it’s agitated. You’re luckier than you know.” At last, she said, “I think it’s gone.” Then she stood and faced me.

I was speechless.

She put one hand on her hip. “Come on, I know I’m not the ugliest thing in the world, but you don’t have to make
that
big a deal. Or have you just not seen a woman in a while?”

My voice entirely escaped me.

“Okay, you’re making me nervous. I know you can talk. Say something.”

I took a breath, and forced out the only word that seemed to matter at the moment, because this woman standing before me, on an island thousands of miles from Neceda, was unmistakable.

“Angelina?”

chapter THIRTY-TWO

It
wasn’t Angelina, of course. The resemblance was striking, but the voice was completely different. It took a minute for that to register, though.

The woman laughed. “No, I’m . . . My name is . . . My name is . . .” She seemed to be struggling to remember. “Barbara. My name is Barbara.” She shook her head. “But he called me Angelina. Or Angie. Or Angel. And made everyone else do it.”

I really needed to sit down now, but made do with leaning against the wall. I said, “Are you the only person on the island?”

“Except for him,” she said with a gesture toward the treasure cave.

“It’s just you now,” I said.

She blinked a couple of times, and her face went blank. Then she grabbed me by the hair. When she snarled, “What?” I felt spittle on my cheek. “What did you say?”

I didn’t try to break free. At the moment, it didn’t seem to matter. “I said, he’s dead. Just now.”

“Oh, no,” she whispered, and let me go. She walked a few steps away, quietly repeating, “No,” to herself.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I said, “I’m sorry.”

It was the wrong thing.

“Sorry?” she yelled as she whirled on me. “For a month, I’ve been sitting outside that cage, waiting to watch him die! I’ve given him just enough water to keep him alive, watched him wither, listened to him beg the way he made me beg! And now you tell me I missed it?” She began to laugh. Then it changed to sobs. Then it exploded into full-blown hysterics that rang off the ceiling.

I glanced nervously at the pool, but the surface was motionless.

I couldn’t just sit by and listen to this, so I stood up and put my hand on her shoulder. “Look, is there anything I can—?”

At the moment of contact, she drew a knife from her belt and spun at me. I reacted reflexively, blocked her thrust with my forearm, and hit the point of her chin with the heel of my other hand. Her head snapped back and she dropped to the ground. The sound of her skull hitting the rocky floor rang like a lone drumbeat.

The whole altercation happened so quickly that it was over before I really comprehended it. She sprawled on the rocky cave floor as if she’d fallen from the sky. “Shit,” I whispered to myself. I seriously worried that I might have killed her.

I picked up the knife and waited for the shakes to stop and my breathing to return to normal. When my fingers were steady, I checked her neck for a pulse. It was there, and she moaned when I pulled my hand away.

I carried her to the wall and propped her against it. There was nothing to cover her with, but the tropical breeze wasn’t exactly chilling. I tore a strip from my tunic and risked dipping it in the water, but again, there was no sign of the beast. I returned and wiped her face until, at last, her eyes opened and focused on me.

“You didn’t kill me,” she said.

“Hell, I didn’t even mean to hit you. It was a reflex.”

She looked down at herself. “I’ve still got my clothes on.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

She smiled wryly, without humor. “You’ve never been a woman captured by pirates. Even old pirates.” She gently felt the back of her head. When she pulled her fingers away, there was no blood. “There’s a lump, but it doesn’t seem to be serious. What’s your name?”

“Eddie.”

She laughed, again without any humor. “No.”

“Yeah. Eddie LaCrosse.”

“Another one. Two Eddies. Well, he’s an Edward. Was an Edward.” She paused, took a moment to compose herself, and said, “Is he really dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see? I need to see it for myself.”

“Sure, if it won’t wake up Grabby.” I nodded at the pool.

“Cherish,” she corrected.

“Cherish? That thing’s name is Cherish?”

“Everything needs a name. Wendell picked it; he said she was an old girlfriend who went crazy on him.”

“Wendell Marteen?”

“Yeah.”

I wanted to ask her more questions, but the desperate need in her eyes was hard to ignore. I helped her to her feet, led her around the wall, and showed her the corpse of Black Edward Tew.

After giving her a few moments to take it in, I asked quietly, “How did he end up in there?”

She kept her eyes on the body. “A comedy of errors. He dropped the key to the treasure chamber out here and didn’t realize it until the door slammed shut behind him.”

“So where were you when that happened?”

She smiled, again with no warmth. “Right here. He took me everywhere, and I mean that literally. One of his favorite places was bent over his precious treasure. This time, though, he told me to wait outside while he filled the box. His last and best mistake.”

She knelt and reached through the bars toward his nearest hand, too far away to touch. “You have no idea what that man did to me. You can’t imagine. And all I wanted in revenge was to see him die. And I missed it.”

“Where were you?”

“Where do you think? Following you. Didn’t you see my footprint in the mud? I didn’t have time to go back and cover it up.”

“Did you sic the lizards on us, then?”

“No, they don’t need me to help them find meat.”

I looked at the way the door was constructed. There would be no removing it easily, and picking the lock would take time. “So the door just happened to close when you were out here and he was in there?”

“Think whatever you want,” she said wearily. “I threw the key into the pool when I realized he was locked in. It was the only one; no copies. There’s no fishing it out, and there’s no way to break into the cave without stirring up Cherish, and she’s so big and pulpy, weapons don’t hurt her. Which means you’ve wasted your trip.”

“I’m not interested in the treasure.”

She laughed. It came out as a sharp little snort.

“I’m serious,” I insisted. “Why does nobody believe that?”

“Are you a monk?” she taunted.

“No, I’m a sword jockey. I was hired to find Black Edward Tew, nothing more.”

She looked up. “Then . . . did my husband send you? To find me and bring me back?”

“No,” I said. “But I will take you back, if you want.”

She just stared at me. I couldn’t imagine the feelings going through her, so I just waited. At last, she said, “You really are just looking for Edward? Not the treasure?”

“Yes. Someone wanted to know what happened to him.” Now I laughed without any amusement. “You reminded me of her, actually. That’s why you startled me so much.”

“The other Angelina?”

I nodded.

“So I do look a lot like her.”

“A lot,” I agreed.

She gazed down at Edward’s haggard face, now gray with death. His wet hair lay plastered across his cheeks and forehead. “Edward kidnapped me from Kontis, where I worked in my husband’s tavern. He said I reminded him of someone, and I guess it was this Angelina woman. He brought me here . . . my God, fifteen years ago. My husband barely knew I was around when I was underfoot all the time; wonder how long it took him to notice I was gone?” She paused. “Of course, that was before Edward went crazy.”

“Crazy how?”

“You know how every ship has a bell with its name on it? He took the bell from his ship before he sank it. He used to say he could hear it ringing still, even when it sat there on his desk, collecting dust. Finally, he gave it to one of the old men in town.”

“The ones you released the lizards to get?”

“They got what they deserved. And if the lizards kill some of Wendell’s crew when they get back, that’s even fewer people around to hurt me.”

“So who were the people that lived here? Not Tew’s original crew.”

She snorted. “No, they’re dead. You know, even after he gave away the bell, Edward swore he could see their ghosts accusing him of treachery and murder. He painted that mural to try to quiet them, to give them a memorial. But they only lived here,” she said, tapping her temple.

She shook her head back to the moment. “The ones in the huts were people Wendell accumulated whenever he left the island. For years it was just me, Edward, and Wendell. Then when Wendell would leave, he’d bring someone back. They were harmless, or so I thought; just bums too lazy or old or injured to make a living at sea, and wanting nothing more than a beach to lie on and enough rum to make them forget. They were afraid of Edward, so they mostly left us alone. But Wendell gathered enough of them that he finally made a crew after Edward’s accident. If you stay long enough, you’ll get to meet them. They should be back soon.”