Vampirates 4: Black Heart (3 page)

"If I give it to you, will you call them off?" Trofie asked.

Lady Lockwood folded her arms. "I'm afraid it's going to take a little more than that. But the necklace is a good starting point. Do you need any assistance unclasping it for me?"

"No," said Trofie, finally losing some of her poise. "No, I can manage." She lifted her hands up to the back of her neck. As she did so, her golden fingers and ruby nails glimmered in the candlelight.

"Ah!" sighed Lady Lockwood. "There it is! The fabled hand of Trofie Wrathe!"

Hearing this, Trofie momentarily froze.

"Do you see it, ladies?" Lady Lockwood asked. "Why, isn't it a beauty? Such fine gold. Such perfect gemstones. It truly is a marvel. More fabulous even than we were led to believe! One of a kind."

Trofie unclasped her necklace and extended it in her golden hand to Lady Lockwood. But rather than taking the necklace, Lady Lockwood circled her fingers about Trofie's wrist where the flesh gave way to gold. "Give it to me," she said, her eyes flashing with excitement.

"You want my hand?" Trofie said incredulously.

"Yes, my dear." Lady Lockwood nodded, as if to a stupid child. "I'll take the necklace -- it's a pretty trinket -- but your hand is the real treasure."

"But what do you want with it?" Trofie said, bewildered. "It's no use to anyone but me."

Lady Lockwood still held the golden hand within her own. Now she loosened her hold. "I told you before," she said. "I collect things. Pretty things. Unusual things. Sometimes I pass them on to my friends. And sometimes I keep them for myself. And this" -- she caressed the golden fingers -- "this I shall most definitely be keeping for myself."

"We have other treasures," said Trofie. "Let me show you. Come to our treasure store and take your pick."

"No, thank you," said Lady Lockwood. "I'm not as greedy as all that. I'll go home tonight with the necklace and the hand and count myself a lucky girl."

"But it's my mom's hand!" protested Moonshine. Angelika giggled and ran her fingers through Moonshine's hair.

Trofie kept her cool, her eyes fixed on Lady Lockwood's. "If I give it to you," she asked, "will you leave us? Do you give me your word?"

"I give you my word," said Lady Lockwood.

"Mom, you can't just give her your --"

"Be quiet, Moonshine. You've seen what Lady Lockwood is ... what she is capable of. It's a small price to pay."

"It's your hand!" shouted Moonshine.

But Trofie's mind was made up. She reached across and released the catches with which the golden hand was fastened. It came free from her wrist. Trofie gave a nod. "It's yours. Take it."

Smiling, Lady Lockwood took the hand in her own, sliding it out from Trofie's sleeve. She lifted it to her lips and kissed it, then drew it into the folds of her cape. She clapped her hands in delight.

"Ladies, let the prisoners go. We have what we came for."

As Marianne and Angelika reluctantly released Moonshine and Barbarro from their clutches, Trofie stared at Lady Lockwood. "You wanted my hand all along, didn't you?"

"Perhaps," said Lady Lockwood with a smile. "Well, toodle-pip. Enjoy your midnight feast." She tapped the top of the domed platter she had carried in, turned, and pushed open the door. Marianne and Angelika followed their leader back out into the corridor. It swung closed behind her, and the three members of the Wrathe family were alone once more. They looked at each other, dumbstruck.

"I'm going after her," Moonshine said.

"No!" cried Trofie and Barbarro in unison.

Moonshine stopped in his tracks. "But, Mom, your hand ..."

"We'll get another," Barbarro said.

"Oh, yeah," said Moonshine. "We'll just pop out to the golden hand store!"

"She's a vampire, isn't she?" At last Trofie's voice betrayed some of the fear she had kept so well hidden before.

"Yes, my dear," nodded Barbarro, taking his wife in his arms. "A vampire. Or Vampirate. Whatever they call themselves. The same monsters who killed my dear brother Porfirio."

"All the more reason to exact a swift and terrible revenge," Moonshine said.

"This isn't something to be entered into lightly or alone," said his father. "We were lucky to get away with our lives tonight."

"All right," Moonshine persisted. "But what are you planning to do about it?"

"First, I'm going to talk to Molucco. He has some experience with these creatures. He talked me out of pursuing them for revenge before, but that's all changed now. I'll see to that. These monsters cannot attack us on our own ships! So we talk to Molucco. Then, I'm taking this up with the Pirate Federation. We will work together to purge the oceans of these menaces." He bristled. "They chose the wrong ship to attack tonight! Let no one be in any doubt about that."

Moonshine couldn't help but reflect that, stirring as his father's words were, the captain had been rather less combative during his encounter with the Vampirates.

Barbarro drew his wife and deputy closer to him and spoke more softly. "But right now, I'm taking your mother to our cabin," he said to his son. "If you want to make yourself useful, summon the entire crew to meet me on the main deck in ten minutes sharp. I want to know just how those devils boarded the mighty Typhon in the first place." His orders given, Barbarro led his wife out of the stateroom.

Moonshine began to follow them, then stopped in his tracks, spying the domed tray that Lady Lockwood had carried in with her. His shock had given way to hunger. Was it too much to hope that there might be some tasty morsels under the lid?

But as he lifted the lid, he was disappointed. The platter was empty, save for one item. A playing card.

Moonshine reached forward and lifted it into his hands. It was similar to a regular playing card, but there was something odd about it. It was the queen of hearts ... except that hearts were always red.

And this card was black.

4INCOMPLETE REUNION

"No need to linger in the shadows," Mosh Zu said as Grace and Connor entered the meditation chamber. He was standing in the center of the room, facing them. In front of him was a wicker chair, its braided twigs glowing pale gold in the lamplight. The back of the chair was turned to the twins. At its side, also made of wicker, was a round table on which sat a pitcher of water and three glasses. As Grace watched, a small, pale hand appeared from the other side of the chair and reached out for a glass. Grace's heart lurched. The hand belonged to Sally, her mother. In just moments, she and Connor would sit down and have their first real conversation with her. Suddenly, the enormity of this meeting felt overwhelming to her. She reached for Connor's fingertips, and she could feel him shaking, too.

Mosh Zu remained matter-of-fact, asking Connor to help him bring two more chairs over to the middle of the room. Grace found herself alone, mere steps from her mother. Taking a deep breath, she walked forward. Sally's eyes met hers, the vivid green of her irises perfectly mirroring Grace's own.

"Hello again!" Sally said, smiling up at her. She looked weak, but she was, just as Grace had remembered, flesh and blood. Grace leaned forward and kissed her mother's cheek. It felt as smooth and cool as marble, but to Grace the important thing was that she could feel it. She remembered the visits she had received from Darcy when, though her friend had seemed to be in the same room, it had only been an astral projection and Grace's hands had moved right through Darcy's. This was different, very different.

Sally grasped both of Grace's hands and their eyes met, green on emerald green. As they did so, Grace had the strangest sensation. It began like the onset of a vicious headache, a searing pain right through her skull. The pain was only momentary, though, and as it gave way a series of images flashed before her eyes. The first was of her father, but he was younger than she had ever seen him. It was nighttime and he was outside, laughing. Grace felt Sally squeeze her hands once more. Now the image changed. This time, it was Sidorio she saw. He looked just the same as she remembered him. He was entering the long cabin at the bottom of the Nocturne, the cabin where the weekly feasts took place. Once more, Sally squeezed her hands and again the vision changed. This time, it was Lorcan Grace saw. He was looking at her closely, tears in his eyes. Then Sally took her hands away and the visions instantly disappeared.

Grace stood rooted to the spot, dazed, as Sally turned to face Connor. As she watched mother and son embrace, Grace wondered if Sally had any clue as to the effect her touch had had upon her. And what did this strange sequence of images mean?

"Let me look at you," Sally said now. "Let me get a good look at both of you."

Grace turned and saw that Connor had come to a standstill beside her. He reached out his arm and looped it around Grace's shoulder, though she was unsure whether he had done so in order to comfort her or to steady his own nerves.

"Grace and Connor," Sally said softly. "My twins. My angels!" It was clear from the rasp in her voice that these few words had not been produced without effort.

"Why don't you both take a seat?" Mosh Zu suggested, indicating the two empty chairs. As Grace sat down, she wondered why Mosh Zu had not brought over another for himself.

"Doubtless, you have many questions for your mother," Mosh Zu said. He turned to Sally, a soft smile sweeping across his face. "And I know she is eager to learn more about both of you. I shall leave you for a while. It is fitting that you should be alone together as a family. You have, each in your own ways, waited a very long time for this reunion."

As Mosh Zu walked toward the door, Grace felt her pulse quicken. A raft of questions raced through her brain. How long do we have? How fragile is Sally's condition? What happens if she gets upset? She appreciated Mosh Zu's offer to give them space to get to know each other, but she wished he had better prepared them, for all their sakes.

She watched the door close behind him. As it did, she heard his voice, calm and clear in her head. "Do not let these worries cloud the joy of your meeting The answer to each of your questions is simple. I do not know any better than you do. But be assured, I will be close at hand if and when you need me."

Grace nodded, then turned back to the others, wondering if they had observed this gesture and thought it strange. Neither appeared to have noticed. Connor was looking down at his hands, which rested on his knees. Sally was watching him. She had, thought Grace, a childlike quality. It was hard to judge her age, given her current pallor. Even if she had been as young as sixteen when she gave birth to the twins, that would still make her thirty now. But she seemed younger than that. If Grace hadn't known otherwise, she'd have placed Sally in her midtwenties or even younger. But that couldn't be the case. The numbers just didn't add up.

"Well," Sally said, "as long as we've all waited for this moment, it's actually kind of awkward, isn't it?" At these words, Connor looked up, staring at her through his bangs. Sally smiled at him, then turned to face Grace, too. "Like Mosh Zu says, I'm sure you both have lots of questions for me. Where do you suppose we should begin?"

Grace felt conflicted. She didn't want to ask anything too difficult or upsetting right away. At the same time, she was conscious that, given Sally's condition, their time together might be limited, and she didn't want to miss this opportunity to address the important questions. In the end, she hedged her bets. "I was just wondering," she said, "how long it has been since you saw us. Besides that last time in the healing chamber. How long has it been since we were really together?" She paused. "I don't mean to sound rude or hurtful, but I don't have any memories of you in Crescent Moon Bay."

Sally started to speak, but her voice was hoarse, perhaps from lack of use, and she coughed, then asked, "Connor, would you be a darling and pour me a glass of water?"

Connor leaned forward, tilted the pitcher toward a glass, and reached out to place it in his mother's hand.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at him. For the first time, he smiled back. Sally took a sip of water, then continued. "Now, Grace, to answer your question. The truth is, I have never been to Crescent Moon Bay."

"Never?" exclaimed Grace. She could see that Connor, too, was surprised.

Sally shook her head. "I should like to go there someday." Some of the light drained from her eyes. "I suppose it will have to be someday very soon, now."

"But we always lived in Crescent Moon Bay," Grace said. "Right up until Dad died and we left and got caught in the storm. All our lives we were there."