“I was wrong,” Demery snapped. “Or near enough. He must have anchored outside the city walls.”
“To the north,” Grant started to say with a drunken slur, but the rest of his words were lost in a renewed fit of shrieking from the hallway. He cringed and shoved deeper into the alcove, managing to elbow me in the chest and tread on my foot at the same time.
“Sorry, so sorry,” he muttered, straightening directly between Demery and me. He stank of pipe smoke and wine. “Damn, I am drunk.”
Demery shot Grant a hard look, particularly piercing from so close, and the young man froze. “To the north? How would you know that?”
Grant appeared to battle his slow wits. “There’s a smuggler’s anchorage,” he fumbled, then degraded into a nervous giggle as he added, “It may surprise you, good sir, but I have friends in remarkably low places.”
My already hammering heart increased tenfold. If Grant was right, if Lirr was anchored just north of the city…
I knew where my mother was. We could rescue her, tonight.
Demery’s gaze was sharp as he looked at Charles, but he pushed his questions aside. “Well, if you want to stay aboard my ship you’ll come with me now. Mary, do not leave this alcove. I’m going to murder Lirr tonight, but if my bait is running free, that will be a lot harder. We’ll be just down the corridor.”
With that, Demery edged outside, cutlass in hand.
“Bait!” I spluttered in panic and indignation. “I’m not sitting here while Lirr comes for me! If my mother’s just outside the city—you promised to rescue her, Demery. Captain!”
Demery’s gaze swept back to me with the intensity of an owl. He rammed his cutlass back into its scabbard, grabbed the rope that had held back the curtain with one hand and my wrists with the other.
“We’ll find her when Lirr’s dead,” the pirate said.
The chaos of the palace swallowed my scream. I struck out, but Grant was in the way and the alcove was a shadowed mess of limbs. I managed to free one hand and punch the captain’s face before he barreled me into the wall and pinned me there, crushing the air from my lungs and filling my face with the scent of wool and salt, pipe smoke and gunpowder.
Next thing I knew, my wrists were bound to the ring in the wall. Demery pulled Grant outside, wincing at the blow I’d given him, and the curtain closed.
“Charles!” I bellowed, craning after them. “Charles Grant, you bastard, come back right now! Charles! Demery!”
All at once, the hallway quietened. The last frantic slap of running feet faded away. The last scream echoed into silence. I was alone with the candles flickering in their sconces, and the curtain, which was doing its best to smother me.
I sagged back into the alcove. I jerked at my bindings, but the rope was strong, and the ring firmly embedded in the alcove’s frame. Clearly, the Usti did not take chances with their drapery.
Maybe Demery was right. Maybe I should stay here, play my part in his game and let him try to kill Lirr. But how could I do that? How could I let myself be caught and tied to a wall when my mother was so close? Yes, Demery had said we’d rescue her once Lirr was dead, but I doubted Lirr’s crew would wait around for us to find them.
If Demery would not take the initiative, I had to. Lirr was already here—Demery would have to find him without me.
I twisted, trying to get a hand into my pocket, but only succeeded in making my shoulder cramp. Growling in frustration, I angled my hip into the wall. I could feel the contents of my pocket pressing into my hip. If I could somehow manage to move the pocket higher…
I proceeded to perform a clumsy, intricate dance, twisting my skirts, wrenching my shoulders and generally making a fool of myself until my fingers caught the edge of my pocket.
Scissors. Their delicate edge brushed my finger. They were small, but they’d do.
I began to snip, the valiant grind of the little blades loud in my solitude. There were other sounds in the distance—footfalls, shouted orders, gunfire and violence—but my corridor remained hushed.
The rope fell away. I shook out my wrists and tucked the scissors into my right hand, letting them poke out between my fingers as I peered into the hallway. It stretched far to the left and right, intersected in each direction by narrower, darker ways. There was no one in sight.
A long-legged shadow stretched around a corner, followed by a pair of boots.
I twitched back behind the curtain.
The boots approached, surreptitious but intent, and coming directly towards me. I could bolt right now, but whoever it was would certainly see me.
“Mary?”
The curtain pushed back and Rosser—one of the Rossers—appeared before me. I took him in, from his plum-colored coat to the beard on his cheeks. Samuel. Not Benedict. My relief was a traitorous thing.
More footsteps came, followed by unfamiliar voices. Samuel shot a sharp glance up the hallway then shoved into the alcove with me.
He was too close, too fast. I panicked and punched him in the stomach.
The man buckled with a thin wheeze, followed by a garbled curse. “Bloody—sharp?”
I gasped, remembering the scissors between my fingers. I started to apologize, but cut myself off. I didn’t believe all Benedict had said about Samuel, but I needed to keep my guard up. Particularly if Samuel was a Magni too.
The thought gave me pause, and I studied Samuel’s shadowed face for a few, galloping heartbeats. I searched myself for any illogical impulses, but my head felt clear. If Samuel was a Magni, I didn’t think he was using his power right now.
Footsteps approached us at a jog.
“Do not move!” Grant’s inebriated voice called from the opposite direction, overly loud, and no doubt completely giving away his position.
Samuel and I froze.
Another voice, familiar and low, observed, “She’s there.”
All I saw were the whites of Samuel’s eyes in the gloom, just as round as mine.
Lirr.
“Do you trust me?” Samuel whispered, concern and urgency in his eyes.
“No.” I intended to snap the word, but it came out as a rasp. I thought fast, all the while keeping a thumb on my emotions, wary of any Magni taint.
Lirr and his pirates were in the hallway. Grant was drunk, and Demery just one man. My odds of escaping this situation unscathed felt thin. Then there was the matter of my mother, trapped aboard Lirr’s ship somewhere out in the night.
I needed help. But a distraction would suffice.
“Help me get away,” I said to Samuel. “I’ll give you your coin back.”
“Give it to me now.”
“After.” I knew better than to take chances with a Rosser. “I promise, Samuel.”
My use of his name hushed him. There was a heartbeat of silence, punctuated by boots approaching in the hallway.
“Mary Firth,” Lirr’s voice called. “It’s over, woman. Come out.”
Before I knew what was happening my legs moved forward, my will vanished into an all-too familiar haze, and I started to push the curtain aside.
Samuel threw out an arm, barring me from the mouth of the alcove and the danger beyond. He gently pushed me back towards the wall. “Mary, do not listen to him. He’s a Magni. Remember what he is, hold it in your mind. It will help.”