House of Secrets (40 page)

Another Resistance freedom fighter. And she’s passing messages for them, just like the book said.

“So why do people here know me?” Brendan asked.

“Because you’re from the
Moray
,” said Celene. “The
Moray
always docks in our town, to trade.”

Brendan tried to put it together. The
Moray
was from a totally different book than Celene—it was from
The Heart and the Helm
—but now that the books had gotten mashed up, the
Moray
obviously had made some visits here. The reality of each book was quickly becoming entangled with the others. Maybe Will’s squadron would soon show up and rescue all of them.

“Who does the ship trade with?” Brendan asked.

“Why should I tell you?” Celene responded. “Haven’t you read about it already, like you read about me?”

“Hold on,” Brendan said.
Who
is
she? Does she
know
she’s trapped in a book?
“I’m not good with riddles. Please. Tell me what’s going on. I’ve been through too much to get blindsided by another stupid spell or secret.”

“But don’t you know all the spells and secrets? Aren’t you from outside?”

She does know,
Brendan realized.
She’s just as smart as she was in the book.
All he could say aloud was, “Maybe.”

Celene grabbed his arm. “There is a prophecy that you will free us. That when one comes who is not of this world, we will finally be able to throw off the yoke of Queen Daphne and be free. You have to help us. Me and my father.”

“Yes, fine, I’ll help,” Brendan said. He knew from the book that Celene’s father, a general, expected a lot of her. “But how?”

“You should know in your heart,” Celene said. “It is your fate to help. To be a hero.”

“Is that why everyone in this town treats me so strangely? Why are they giving me free food and running away from me?”

“Because they’re scared, Brendan. Of the powerful men on the
Moray
. Tranquebar. Captain Sangray.”

“Sangray’s dead.”

“Dead?” That surprised Celene. “Who killed him? A man like Sangray doesn’t die unless he’s killed.”

“My friend Will did it. The new captain of the
Moray
.”

“That means trouble for all of you when Sangray’s brother finds out.”

“Sangray has a
brother
?”

“Of course. He’s the one who trades with the
Moray
. He’s here with his men today, probably down on the beach—”

“Who is he?” said Brendan, a terrible realization sinking in.

Celene whispered a name in Brendan’s ear.

Brendan bolted.

Celene was left standing in the market, confused, as he dashed past the fruit stand, past the weapons store, past the place where he’d gotten the candy apple, through the narrow dirt streets filled with donkeys and horses and pirates, all the way down to the beach where he had started. The whole time, his chest was heaving, his breath straining through his mouth like something sharp.
I have to get there before it’s too late. I have to tell them. I have to—

When he reached the beach, the first thing he saw was Kristoff House, still at sea, sunk in the water with just its chimney sticking up. On the sand a few dozen yards in front of it were Cordelia and Will. . . .

Tied up and gagged.

Next to them was Eleanor, similarly secured. Jacques the horse trainer was riding away on Majesty, looking very relieved and guilty.

“Hey!” Brendan yelled. “What did you do to my sis—”

But he stopped talking as men stepped toward him.

One was Tranquebar. The rest wore shining full-plate armor. They had gruff faces, swords, and axes. One had a red beard . . . and one had a fresh scar from a barbecue fork on his cheek.

“Slayne,” said Brendan—and then the Savage Warriors grabbed him.

“T
here’s nothing quite so satisfying as having all one’s enemies in one place,” said Slayne, looking down at Brendan, Cordelia, Eleanor, and Will. They were under one of his chain-link nets on the beach, trapped as they had been back in the forest. Slayne’s men, who’d been terrified and fleeing on horses when the Walkers had last seen them, were now taking turns kicking sand in their faces.

“Careful, we need them unspoiled for the queen!” Slayne warned.

“Right, sir, sorry,” Krom said.

“What queen?” asked Eleanor.

“Queen Daphne,” Brendan said. He started to explain about the cruel ruler he had read about in
Savage Warriors
, whose existence Celene had confirmed.

“Silence!” Slayne ordered. He knelt in front of Eleanor and turned his face so that the scar on his cheek was directly under her nose. “Remember what you did to me?”

“I think it’s an improvement,” said Eleanor.

“I’ll have my revenge,” growled Slayne. “I’ll cut off your fingers, one by one. And then, as you’re watching, I’ll coat them in boar batter and deep-fry them. That’s Queen Daphne’s favorite appetizer: fried kiddie fingers dipped in chocolate sauce!”

That freaked Eleanor out. “No!” she screamed.
“Let me go!”
She shook against the metal net, trying to break free and hurt Slayne with anything—her teeth, her toenails—but her hands and feet were tied, and she couldn’t do much except flop around like a flounder.

“My little warrior,” said Slayne, “I’m impressed by your spirit. I’d wager you could put up a good fight against Krom here. But sadly, we’ve no time for games. There are more pressing matters at hand.”

Slayne raised the net and pulled Will out by the ankles.

“Let go, you grotty blighter! You crusty brute! And
you
!” Will spat at Tranquebar. “You deceitful old gasbag!”

“I told you not to take me for a fool, Captain Draper,” said Tranquebar. “I suspected quickly after you dispatched Sangray that you and your companions were keeping secrets. My friend Slayne here tells me you’re a warlock protecting a coven of dangerous witchlings. And so . . . I get a hefty reward; you go with him. Can you really blame me for being a smart businessman?”

“Saving us, then sending us to our deaths? You deceitful beast!” Will yelled. “You’ll rot in hell!”

Slayne dragged Will away from the net, leaving a trail in the sand that reminded Brendan of the angels he had made with Eleanor.

“I want a fair fight!” Will demanded. Slayne let him flop onto the sand. He tried to stand but, with ropes securing his hands and feet, could only manage a defiant kneel. “Cut me free and give me a sword! Or aren’t you man enough?”

Slayne just glared at Will.

“I thought so,” said Will. “You’re afraid I’ll send you to the bottom of the sea!”

“Like you did my brother?” Slayne asked quietly.

Will paused. “Your brother? What in blazes are you—”

Slayne pulled a sword and darted it under Will’s chin, raising Will’s face.

“Captain . . . Sangray,” Slayne said slowly.

“Ohhhh . . . ,” said Will. The Savage Warriors and the Walkers were all staring at him, but no one was more terrified than Cordelia. She saw how close the blade was to Will’s throat. She knew a quick flick of Slayne’s wrist would send him slumping over to darken the sand. She’d already lost her parents. She couldn’t lose him.
Apologize, stupid! Apologize and beg for mercy!

“I should have known,” Will said with a smirk.

Oh no,
Cordelia thought. “Be
quiet
, Will!” she called.

But Will said, “Same freakish body, same foul face that only a mother could love . . . ”

“Stop!”
Cordelia screamed.

But Will grinned at Slayne. “Oh, that’s right. You must never have known your mum. I bet she worked in a—”

Slayne pressed his sword into the triangle of flesh under Will’s jaw. Drops of blood patted the sand.

“Mmm!”
Will said, keeping his mouth shut so he wouldn’t open his chin. He’d been looking at this all wrong. Having frightened these Savage Warriors off with bullets before, he wasn’t really scared of them. But the clarity of pain made him reevaluate the situation.

“Did you ever pull apart spiders when you were a boy?” Slayne asked.

Will shook his head just the tiniest bit, even though it cut him more.

“I did. Big hairy wolf spiders. And with each one, there was a moment I loved most of all: when I held the spider’s first leg . . . right . . . here.”

Slayne pinched the air. It was the perfect time for Will to lunge aside—but doing that would tear his throat open.

“When I made that first pinch, I always heard a voice in my head: ‘You don’t have to hurt this spider. What did he ever to do you?’ It was a test of strength. I had to ignore that voice and”—Slayne
yanked
with his finger and thumb—“pull the leg off. Soon I wasn’t killing spiders. I was killing the voice of weakness.”

“Please! Let him go!” Cordelia said.

Slayne nodded to Krom. Krom aimed a precise kick at Cordelia’s chest. She went down under the net with the wind knocked out of her.

“My queen requested that I deliver your friends alive,” Slayne said, “but she has no orders regarding you, Mr. Draper. And
you
killed my kin.”

Will’s mind was in overdrive, jumping backward through his life. He saw Penelope Hope—Cordelia—the war—his mates—the training field—but then his memories went gray.
Do I even count?
he thought.
I’ve no mum, no dad . . . if I die, who’s going to care?

But then he realized . . . there were three people who
would
care. One perhaps most of all. He glanced to his left and locked eyes with Cordelia.

“Satisfy your bloodlust,” Will said. “As long as you let my friends live through the day. I promised to protect them.”

Slayne smiled, and pulled his sword away from Will’s throat. He stepped behind him and made as if to sheath it—

But then, with a quick move, he stabbed it into Will’s back.

Will stumbled and hit the ground.

“Will!”
Cordelia cried from under the net.

Slayne wiped his blade clean on the pilot’s pants. Then he stepped away and left Will bleeding on the sand.

T
he Walkers didn’t stop screaming for a long time. Not until Slayne had tossed Will’s body into the ocean. Not until Tranquebar had been paid with a wheelbarrow full of gold bars. The first mate put the word out to the pirates that they were setting sail again; by nightfall the
Moray
was being outfitted for a new journey.

Meanwhile, Krom and a few warriors came forward with a cart.

“What is that?” Eleanor asked. “Is that for us?”

The cart was ancient and full of dirty hay, with flies. The warriors rested it on the dock, lifted the net from the Walkers, and dumped them in one by one.

“Help!” Brendan yelled.

“Let us go!” Eleanor screamed.

But Cordelia did nothing. She kept seeing Will die. Kept hearing the silence of that moment. She knew there had been a sound . . . but she couldn’t hear it anymore, and she couldn’t speak.

“Tie ’em up so it hurts!” Krom ordered.

The warriors did, binding the Walkers together as if they were entering the world’s cruelest six-legged race. Their ankles and wrists were fastened in spirals of rope.

Krom swung a metal cage over the cart, trapping the Walkers inside, before he and the other warriors pulled them down the dock. Slayne and Tranquebar parted ways with the group and headed toward the
Moray
. Inside the cart, Brendan called to Krom, “Hey, how long are we gonna be locked in here?”

“Until we arrive at Castle Corroway and you meet Queen Daphne. Two days.”

“Two
days
?” asked a worried Eleanor. “How are we supposed to use the bathroom?”

“That’s what the hay’s for!” cackled Krom. The other warriors laughed with him.

“No way am I peeing in front of my brother,” said Eleanor. “I’ll hold it.”

“Suit yourself,” said Krom. “Bad for the kidneys.”

“What about food?” asked Brendan.

“We’ll be slaughtering goats along the way,” said Krom. “We’ll be cookin’ the meaty parts for us. You lot can feast on the kidneys, intestines, and all the other wet, dangly bits.”