Vampirates 6: Immortal War (49 page)

Johnny stood side by side with Stukeley at the front of
The Redeemer
. The night air was heady with expectation. To their port side was Mimma and her crew on board
The Calabria
; on their starboard, the vast hulk of
The Blood Captain
with Sidorio at the prow. Johnny knew that
The Vagabond
was on the other side of
The Blood Captain
, though for now the larger ship restricted his view.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Johnny turned to Stukeley, his eyes bright. “Look up ahead! Are those the lights of the Pirate Academy?”

Stukeley shrugged. “That’s right, pal. Our suicide mission is almost upon us.”

Johnny frowned. “Don’t talk that way. We’re both coming back from this.”

“I wish I shared your confidence,” Stukeley said, “but
Sidorio has lost the plot. We were roundly defeated last night. The only reason we’re back for more is because Lola’s precious wine cellar was breached. She’s always been a bad influence on him, and this time she’s pushed him right to the edge.”

“You think?” Johnny’s face grew suddenly anxious.

Stukeley nodded. “Look at the sky, man. You can read it as well as me. It’s only hours until dawn.”

“This battle will all be over by the time the sun rises,” Johnny said. “I can taste success.” His eyes skimmed the fire beacons that marked the perimeter of the Pirate Academy harbor.

“Now, you’re clear on your own mission in this?” Stukeley said.

Johnny nodded. “When the battle heats up, I slip onto
The Vagabond
and steal the babies.”

Stukeley nodded grimly. “Still feeling confident?”

Johnny grinned. “Hey, I was a cattle rustler, remember. Stealing is my thing.”

Stukeley gazed at his friend, wondering if it was the right moment to remind him he’d been caught cattle rustling and killed for it. On balance, not, he decided. He needed Johnny to deliver the goods tonight.

Johnny’s expression changed suddenly. “I’m comfortable with the stealing part. But do I have to kill them? I know we need them out of the way, but killing babies is a first even for me.”

Stukeley lowered his voice, intent that no one on his
crew overheard this conversation. “Johnny,” he said, “you have to get rid of Hunter and Evil or there’s no kind of future for us. You know that as well as I do. This crazy battle is the perfect smoke screen.”

“I know that, but do I have to kill them?”

Stukeley’s eyes met Johnny’s. “I don’t much care
what
you do with them. Throw them into the ocean or give them away. Just make sure that when the battle ends and the smoke clears, that nursery is empty and there’s no way back for those kids.”

Johnny nodded. “Okay, I understand,
hermano
. But wouldn’t it be simpler to have another go at killing Lola?”

Stukeley shook his head. “Too dangerous,” he said. “But if you take away her precious kids, she’ll be a broken woman. And we have to break her, Johnny. You get that, don’t you?”

Johnny nodded, his eyes turning once more from his comrade to the fire beacons, which seemed to be floating nearer and nearer. “I get it,” he said. “I don’t like it, but you can depend on me. I’ll do what has to be done.”

On board
The Nocturne
, the crew was moving back into attack positions. At least tonight there had been some warning and the Nocturnals had had a chance to feed. Still, Lorcan was fearful that this was one attack too many and too hard on the heels of the last. He was growing
tired of this. This wasn’t the life he had chosen. He’d risen to the challenge far better than he had expected—to protect the people he loved and their way of life—but fundamentally he was a peaceful person. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on. He had never felt closer to the edge of the abyss. The sleep of oblivion was starting to appeal to him, had there not been so much at stake.

He hammered on Grace’s cabin door, scarcely believing that once more he was about to say good-bye to her, perhaps for the last time.

“Come in!” came a voice, but it belonged to Oskar, not Grace. Already feeling a deep sense of disquiet, Lorcan pushed open the door.

The sight before his eyes only made his heart hammer faster. Grace lay motionless on the floor of the cabin. It looked as if she had fallen, though she had sustained no obvious wounds. Lying close by her was the precious book she had been carrying around with her. Its pages were open and flapped as if there were a breeze, though the air in the cabin was perfectly still.

“What’s going on?” Lorcan asked Oskar.

“I don’t know!” Oskar said, shaking his head. “I found her like this.”

“What does this say?” Lorcan asked, crouching down before Grace’s book. One of Grace’s forefingers lay across the book as if keeping a page open. Lorcan reached out his own hand above hers to still the butterfly motion of the pages. At last, he could read what was written on the
page. “
It’s time for you to enter the realm of the dead
. No!” His frantic eyes met Oskar’s.

“It’s okay,” Oskar said. “I just checked her pulse, and she’s definitely breathing—but slowly, like she’s sedated or in some kind of trance. I can’t seem to wake her.”

Lorcan looked at Grace’s beautiful face. She seemed peaceful at least. He turned back to Oskar. “Look,” he said, “I have to get going. I don’t want to be anywhere but here, but I have no choice. You understand, don’t you?”

Oskar nodded.

“Will you stay and look after her? Do what you can to bring her back around.”

“Of course!” Oskar said. “You know I’d do anything for Grace—for both of you. As long as you’re sure you can spare me from this battle?”

Lorcan did not hesitate. “You’re a great swordsman, Oskar, but I need you right here, taking care of Grace for me. I can’t go into this battle unless I know she’s in safe hands.”

Oskar nodded. “You have my word,” he said. “I won’t leave her side.”

The Alliance ships were moving swiftly into the battle zone, out beyond the harbor, in an arrowlike formation. Connor stood at the stern of
The Tiger
, looking back at the ships following in its wake. Every one of them was a
legend. Moving behind them in a line were
The Diablo
, captained by Moonshine Wrathe with Cate Morgan as his deputy;
The Typhon
captained by Moonshine’s father, Barbarro, with Trofie Wrathe as second-in-command; and
The Nocturne
under the dual command of Obsidian Darke and Lorcan Furey. Beyond those three ships came four more legendary vessels:
The Inferno
, captained by Francisco Moscardo;
The Muscovite
, captained by Pavel Platonov;
The Seferis
, captained by Apostolos Solomos; and
The Kronborg Slot
, captained by Kirsten Larsen. Behind them, Connor knew, were more legendary ships and equally legendary pirate captains.

There was a tangible sense of history in the air tonight as the last of the fleet made its way through the academy arch. Connor reminded himself that he was going into this battle as a captain himself. He could never have expected this when he had first journeyed to Pirate Academy, first sat at the table with these pirating legends. What an incredible journey he had traveled in the past year. He did not yet have his own ship—Ahab Black, currently directing operations from his bunker, had promised him one would be ready soon. Connor wasn’t so sure. Perhaps, if what Grace had told him was true, this would be his one and only battle as Captain Tempest. Strangely, the thought was not a source of pain or terror. He felt almost preternaturally calm, though his senses were heightened. He realized he was the living embodiment of
zanshin
—the warrior’s consciousness, which had been
drilled into him at Pirate Academy and subsequently perfected through real-life conflict.

Turning his eyes forward, Connor could see the ominous lights of the enemy fleet stealing closer. It was a vast armada—made up in large part of ships stolen from the pirates and crewed by converts, both willing and unwilling. It was time to end the fearful empire Sidorio and Lola were building—with no loftier goal than spreading chaos and dark dominion over the oceans. They had to be stopped—here and now. Connor shivered and knew it was more from anticipation than fear. This was not the first time he had gone into battle against Sidorio or Lola. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight’s battle was different. Somehow he knew that none of them would come out of this night quite the same.

He had another brief flash of his recurrent vision. Jasmine’s cries and the sight of the sword embedded in his chest. The horrified faces of his comrades. He pushed the vision away. Every pirate—every pirate captain—went into battle in the certain knowledge that this could be his or her last. Connor was no exception. He thought fondly of those pirates who had gone before him—Porfirio and Molucco Wrathe, Commodore John Kuo, Bart Pearce. He was proud to be following in the path they had charted. If he died tonight, he doubted very much they’d hang
his
sword in Pirate Academy, doubted they’d even remember the name of the young pirate captain who fought once and once only. It didn’t matter. When all was said and
done, it was more than enough simply to have played his part.

His thoughts turned to Grace, knowing that aboard
The Nocturne
, she, too, was preparing to play her part. They had each come so far, though their journeys had been markedly different, since they first set out from Crescent Moon Bay almost a year ago. Connor was unaccustomed to praying, but now he closed his eyes to say a silent prayer for Grace’s safety. If he did lose his life tonight, she would have to journey on for both of them. He wanted her to do so in peace, not in pain. He needed her to know that, whatever happened, he accepted his fate.