Part 11 (1/2)
”Or a machine of war,” suggested Kallas. ”Like the Trojan Horse.”
They all fell silent, considering the mult.i.tudes of possibilities. Those ancients never made the journey a smooth one, not where Sources were concerned. Bennett might have appreciated their foresight if he wasn't in a sodding life-or-death race.
Suddenly, Athena jumped to her feet, startling everyone. ”Virgin Mother! A weapon of that awful power in the hands of the Heirs...they would be invincible. The Blades could do nothing to stop them.”
”Athena, you're starting at the end,” Bennett said. ”Begin at the beginning so we know what the h.e.l.l you're talking about.”
Athena looked horrified. ”Greek Fire. That is what the Heirs are after.”
Bennett cast back in his mind to the stories of his youth, the tales of adventure his father spun when he'd come into the nursery. ”A very old seafaring weapon. It could burn on the water's surface, and couldn't be extinguished.”
The witch nodded. ”A liquid fire. Used for generations-the Romans had heard of it, and it was said that Greek Fire defended Constantinople from Saracen s.h.i.+ps. Then it disappeared.”
”I've read of it,” London said. ”The theory is that it was invented by a Syrian, Callinicus. Many have speculated about its chemical composition. Some said naphtha, resin, burning pitch, quicklime. It is science, not magic.”
”That's how Sources hide,” Bennett said, ”shrouding themselves in easily accepted fact. If the truth was known about such things, like the origins of gunpowder-”
”Gunpowder isn't magic!” London exclaimed.
Bennett said, ”Tell that to the Chinese wizard who created it from a Fire Demon.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, and a smile tugged at her mouth as she looked up at him. ”I had no idea. It's like another Earth has been found existing just beneath the surface of this one.” For a fleeting moment, Bennett and London shared the wonder of discovery, the sheen of adventure, and a reckless happiness careened through him.
Then her smile faded. She remembered who he was, what he'd done. Collecting herself, she asked Athena, ”Are we then to believe that this Greek Fire is a Source?”
Bennett wouldn't let himself be shut out so easily. ”Makes sense,” he said. ”A terrible waterborne gift. The Heirs would certainly want such a weapon.” The Heirs would certainly want such a weapon.”
”Control of the sea is everything,” Kallas added. ”If the oceans are yours, the world is yours.”
”Then we'll stop them now,” Bennett said. ”We'll find it first.”
”Where?” asked Athena.
”The island in the form of a dolphin,” Kallas repeated. ”I know this place. On the sh.o.r.e, there is a small church and a tiny village. Mostly goats and rocks. It is a day's sail from here, to the east.” Kallas repeated. ”I know this place. On the sh.o.r.e, there is a small church and a tiny village. Mostly goats and rocks. It is a day's sail from here, to the east.”
Athena challenged, ”Does it have a stream that sings?”
”If it does,” Kallas shot back, ”it is inland, where I never go. The sea is my home. I haven't got a landlocked palace full of servants and costly baubles, Lady Witch.”
Athena's fingers twitched as if she meant to cast an unpleasant spell on the tormenting captain.
”Take us to that island,” Bennett said quickly. He didn't want a mollusk for a captain.
Kallas nodded. ”I will need help with the sails.”
Bennett straightened to give his a.s.sistance, but Athena surprised everyone by stepping forward.
”This palace-dweller can do it,” she sniffed. palace-dweller can do it,” she sniffed.
Kallas scowled. From a pocket in his vest, he took his pipe and stuck it between his teeth. ”Follow me,” he growled. ”Day, you take the helm. Steer us east by northeast, and mind the wind.” Then the captain strode aft with Athena at his heels, mariner and lady determined to show their indifference to each other. It made Bennett smile despite the continued sting of London's anger.
Bennett did as Kallas ordered, manning the wheel. From his jacket, he pulled out the Compa.s.s.
”I have to plot our direction, so I'll need you to hold this,” he said. When London rose and came to stand beside him, he kept his eyes ahead on their course, but felt her there, just the same. Sharp, pained desire flared in him, their fingers tangling as she relieved him of the Compa.s.s. The tips of her fingers were already growing more resilient from use, not quite as soft or pampered as they once had been.
He glanced down at the face of the Compa.s.s, marking their position and adjusting the wheel, but it was her hand and her fingers that captivated him.
”This is beautiful,” she said, after examining it. ”It feels old, weighty.”
”All Blades carry a Compa.s.s. It's our most precious belonging. We'll defend them to the death.”
The implications of London being allowed to even touch such a prized object were not lost on her. ”I shouldn't be holding it.” She held it out to him.
”The Compa.s.s isn't just beautiful. It works, has a use and function. If I kept it closed up all the time, it wouldn't fulfill its purpose.”
She was silent for some time, studying the Compa.s.s.
”It was him or me, London,” he said, his eyes on the horizon. ”I picked myself, and the Blades.”
”Is it so easy a choice?”
”Never easy.”
”You didn't tell me.”
”So I was supposed to pay a call on you in your cabin and say, 'I'm the bloke that killed your husband. Let's have a cup of tea.'”
”Don't be flippant about this,” she said, eyes sharp and glittering. ”Not this.” She began to walk away.
”I need you next to me,” he said. At her hard, questioning look, he said, ”To hold the Compa.s.s.”
Slowly, she walked back to him, the open Compa.s.s in her hands. Her lips pressed tightly together as she deliberately kept her eyes on the horizon and away from him.
He was not used to apologizing. ”I'd never hurt you.”
”That would be pleasant to believe.”
Anger erupted, barely checked. ”Better that you should be a widow than three hundred Nubians should lose their lives,” he growled. ”That's what your husband did. He killed a whole village for a Source. That Source was used to slaughter thousands in China.”
Color drained from her face, leaving her ashen. ”I-”
”And you know what's the b.l.o.o.d.y icing on the biscuit?” His laugh felt like a fist as he pushed it from his lungs. ”Even though I had to kill Harcourt in Morocco, the Heirs still still got their hands on Aisha's Tears and wiped out half the d.a.m.ned populace of the Gold Coast. Your husband died, but his mission was a success. So take some comfort in that, Mrs. Harcourt.” got their hands on Aisha's Tears and wiped out half the d.a.m.ned populace of the Gold Coast. Your husband died, but his mission was a success. So take some comfort in that, Mrs. Harcourt.”
He couldn't look at her, almost afraid of what he'd see.
After a moment, she said, ”Hate is such an uncomplicated word. This,” she said, gesturing to the air between them, ”is much more tangled.” She closed the Compa.s.s and put it into his hand. ”I'm sure you can find your own way.”