Some part of Thomas still expected that he would have to pay for his son, and he was carrying his life savings on him. He was acutely aware that every dollar he spent was one dollar less for Darin’s ransom. Right now, Scully was standing between Thomas and his son, impeding our progress, and he was shaking us down. It was a very dangerous place to be.
The captain was about as trustworthy as an unpiloted vampire. The will-o’-wisp’s cage didn’t fully fit into the saddlebag, so I had settled for kind of strapping it in, and he’d glanced at it four times since we’d started talking. He was a sailor, and will-o’-wisps loved marshes. Scully would’ve seen hundreds of them in his time on the water and would know that they went for about $50K apiece. I could see the butt of a crossbow laying on the passenger bench in the boat cabin. He probably had a shotgun or a rifle in there as well.
“Make up your mind,” Scully drawled. “You want across or not?”
Any other time I would’ve waited for a safer option since I had Thomas and two mounts to guard. But we had no time. If the Red Horn had warned Onyx and he warned his buyer, our chances of finding Darin would plummet. There was a fifteen-year-old kid out there held against his will by some asshole, and gods alone knew what was happening to him while we stood on this shore.
Thomas unclenched his jaw.
I tossed a chunk of silver to the captain. Scully snapped it out of the air. Paper money was fragile, but silver was expensive and much more durable. And I’d given him about $50 more than he’d asked.
“Take us across. That’s all. Don’t get fancy. Keep the bird in hand, and your head attached to your neck.”
“Whatever you say.” Scully made a small, mocking bow. “Welcome aboard.”
I showed Cuddles a carrot, and she clopped her way onto the boat, like it was solid ground. Thomas’ horse took a bit more convincing, but in the end everyone boarded, Scully got into his cabin, and we were off.
Enchanted water motors normally made enough noise to raise the dead, but the boat motor was submerged, and the river muffled the sound to a tolerable hum. We weren’t moving very fast, but the shore was growing farther away. The green wall of smooth cordgrass sheathed the banks like a fuzzy green blanket. Something large writhed in it. Something thick and brown…
The beast slid toward the water, mashing the cordgrass aside. It resembled a giant leech, three feet thick and six feet long, with a leathery brown hide glistening with water and mud. Its blunt, eyeless head rose, swaying, as if sampling the wind. A round mouth opened, revealing a ring of rectangular nasty teeth leading to a throat studded with barbs. The beast slipped into the water.
A juvenile Tinh ??a, a long way off from its original home in Vietnam. Sooner or later, some merc from the local Guild would be coming down here to take care of it. Probably sooner since they grew fast, reached eighteen feet in adulthood, and ate anything that moved. Maybe the city would contract the Order to do it.
I glanced at Scully in his cabin. He’d modified the boat windshield so instead of one glass piece, he had two of them overlapping, and right now he’d slid the left half of it aside. There was only one reason for that modification. It let him shoot without leaving the safety of the cabin. It was a good plan, but a crossbow was wider than the opening, which meant his killing field was pretty narrow.
The boat slid over the dark water. The river teemed with life, and most of the magic it radiated didn’t feel friendly.
I moved over to Thomas and murmured, “Go to the right side of the boat and wander toward the cabin.”
He didn’t give any indication he had heard me.
I walked away from him toward my donkey.
Something bumped the boat in passing.
Cuddles snorted. I patted her muzzle. “I know.”
Thomas made his way toward the cabin on the right. Two more steps and he was out of Scully’s range.
Thump.
Thump. Thump.
Thump, thump, thump.
“Giant sturgeon going upriver. Nothing to worry about,” Scully called out.
The Shift had given a lot of fauna a boost, as if it tried to compensate for the human-wrecked ecosystem. Animals, both common and magic, flourished, and fish were no exception. Atlantic sturgeon now grew to almost 20 feet and topped 1,000 pounds. They were also bottom feeders. Their spawn season was about over, which meant they should be going down river, not up. Something was driving them to the surface and away from the ocean.
The steady hum of the engine gently tapered off.
I stepped closer to the cabin, hanging to the left. I still wanted him to think he had a shot.
The engine died. I dipped my hand into the pouch on my belt and pulled out a handful of the contents in my fist.
Three, two, one…
Scully leveled a crossbow at me. A compact Ten-Point, good brand, designed to bring down medium-sized game. He’d drop a human with one shot.
“Alright, boys and girls, here’s what’s gonna happen. You bring me the wisp, pass it through this window, and hop on into the water. I’ll let your horses out on the shore.”
Thomas lunged for the cabin door, grabbed the handle, and yanked. The door remained shut. Scully had locked it.
“Go on!” Scully waved the bow at me from inside the cabin.
“Or what?” I asked.
“Or I’ll shoot you or your horse, you dumb bitch.”
“She’s not a horse. She’s a donkey.”
“What the hell do I care? Get to it.”
“You’ve thought this through?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I threw a handful of wolfsbane powder into the cabin. Wolfsbane was a shapeshifter deterrent. A shapeshifter caught in it would collapse into sneezing and coughing fits and go scent-blind for a couple of hours. It didn’t work as well on humans, but any person suddenly inhaling a cloud of talcum-fine dust would react.
A bright yellow cloud bloomed inside the cabin. Scully choked, staggered back, and sneezed. His head went forward, his crossbow dipped down, and the telltale twang announced a shot fired.
“Aaaaaaa!”
I leaned to look down. Yep. The crossbow bolt pinned his left foot to the deck of the cabin. Captain Scully, Supergenius.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
“Unlock the door,” I told him.
Thomas smiled.
I glanced at him.
A little light sparkled in Thomas’ eyes. “He shot himself in the foot trying to rob us. Literally.”
“Yes. Scully, unlock the door. That red puddle by your foot isn’t strawberry syrup.”
“Fuuuuck!”
“Less cursing, more unlocking, unless you want to keep bleeding.”
Scully eyed me like a cornered dog. I unsheathed Sarrat and put it to his throat through the window. “Unlock. The. Door.”
He reached over and popped the lock on Thomas’ side. Thomas got into the cabin, confiscated the crossbow, tossed it onto the deck, and unlocked my door. I came around and looked at Scully’s impaled foot. Judging by what I could see of the shaft, the head had gone clean through his foot and about two inches through the deck. Good crossbow. He was lucky the bolt was wood and not metal.
I sheathed my saber, got my knife out, grabbed the bolt just above the boot, and sliced the shaft with my knife.
Scully yowled.
“Grab him,” I told Thomas.