Retribution Falls

Thirty-Nine

A cold wind chased puffs of grey ash across the Blackendraft plains. Frey’s coat flapped restlessly. Bleak horizons encircled them. Overhead, the sky was the colour of an anvil. The Delirium Trigger hung at anchor a short distance away, its hard, cruel lines stark against the emptiness.

The crew of the Ketty Jay stood in a row at the bottom of the cargo ramp. Pinn and Harkins had grounded their craft and been rounded up. Silo, Bess and Slag were missing. Silo was still in the infirmary. Crake had put Bess to sleep to prevent her going berserk and getting them all killed. Slag had vanished into the vents and airways, on some mysterious errand of his own. Nothing would ever separate him from his aircraft.

Facing them was Trinica Dracken and a dozen men from the Delirium Trigger. The men covered Frey and his crew with their pistols while Trinica looked down into the red-lacquered chest that sat at her feet. She stared at the wealth within for a long time, but her ghost-white face and unnatural black eyes revealed nothing of what she was thinking. Finally, she looked up.

‘You did well, Darian,’ she said. ‘Kind of you to carry this all the way from Orkmund’s stronghold, just for me.’

Pinn muttered something unsavoury under his breath. Malvery clipped him round the ear.

‘I should have killed you when I had the chance,’ said Frey. There was no rancour in it; it was simply an observation. ‘I suppose this is where mercy gets you.’

Trinica gave him a dry smile. ‘Consider this the price of a lesson well learned.’

Frey and Trinica gazed at each other across the dusty gap that separated them. The huge silence of the Blackendraft filled the moment.

He couldn’t feel hate for her. He couldn’t manage to feel much more than a distant disappointment. This felt right, somehow. It had been greed that made him jump at Quail’s too-good-to-be-true offer. And while he didn’t blame himself for the many deaths aboard the Ace of Skulls—they were doomed with or without him—he’d played a part in it. He might have saved the Archduke and done a great service to his country, but he did it by initiating a massacre at Retribution Falls. It didn’t seem fair that he should profit from his own stupidity, at the expense of all those lives.

Maybe he owed the world something. For the crew he’d taken into Samarla and left to die. For every Trinica Dracken and Amalicia Thade whom he’d discarded and forgotten as soon as they showed signs of wanting more than he was prepared to give.

For his baby, that died for its parents’ cowardice.

He’d condemned them all when he agreed to take on the Ace of Skulls. But since then, he’d clawed back all he’d lost, and more besides. He’d forged a crew, and he’d reclaimed himself. Perhaps that was all that was needed, in the end.

‘What happens now, Trinica?’ he asked her.

‘I expect Grephen will hang,’ she said. ‘The Awakeners . . . well, they’re too powerful to be brought down, even by this. But I think the Archduke will redouble his efforts to cripple them from now on.’

‘I mean, what happens to us?’

Trinica gave him a bewildered look. ‘How would I know? I expect you’ll get your pardons, even if you’re not there to collect them.’

‘You’re letting us go?’

‘Of course I am,’ she said. ‘Everyone who put a bounty on your head has either withdrawn it or is in no position to pay any more. Why would I want you?’

His crew visibly relaxed. Frey brushed away a lock of hair that was blowing across his forehead.

‘And you?’ he asked.

‘I’ll be heading off somewhere,’ she replied, nonchalant. ‘I suppose I’ll have to keep out of the Navy’s way from now on, but I’ll survive.’

She motioned to her bosun, who filled a leather bag with coins from the chest. He tied it with a thin piece of rope and gave it to her. It was almost too big to hold in one hand. She weighed it thoughtfully, then hefted it towards Frey, who barely caught it.

‘Finder’s fee,’ she said. ‘That, and you can keep your craft.’

‘That’s uncommonly merciful of you, Trinica.’

She smiled, and this time it wasn’t the chilly, guarded smile he’d come to know. It was the smile of the old Trinica, from a time before her world had become full of horrors, and it flooded him with a bittersweet warmth.

‘I’m feeling sentimental,’ she said. ‘Goodbye, Captain.’

She turned her back on them then, and walked towards the shuttle that sat a short way distant. Her men closed the chest and gathered it up. Frey and his crew watched as they disappeared inside the craft, and it lifted off from the ground, taking them back to the Delirium Trigger.

‘Well,’ said Malvery, squinting against the dust as he watched them dwindle into the distance. ‘That’s just about our luck.’

‘Cheer up!’ said Frey. ‘We’ve got three aircraft, enough ducats to keep us in the sky for a year, and the world at our feet. I’d say we’re the luckiest crew in Vardia right now.’

‘I’d feel a damn sight luckier if that witch hadn’t buggered off with our loot,’ Malvery griped.

Frey slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Look on the bright side. She might have killed us.’

‘There is that,’ Malvery conceded.

‘Is . . . um . . . I was wondering, is anyone else hungry?’ Harkins enquired.

‘We should probably take Silo to a hospital,’ Jez suggested. ‘Get him a good bed and some nurses.’

Frey looked at Malvery. ‘How long before Silo’s capable of getting back to work? In your expert opinion?’

‘Three weeks, I’d say,’ Malvery said. ‘Maybe four.’

Frey scratched the back of his neck. ‘Well, what with all we’ve been through we probably deserve a little port time.’

Pinn’s eyes lit up at the prospect of booze and whores. Frey held up the bag of coins. ‘Drinks are on me tonight!’

There was a cheer from the men.

‘Jez!’ he barked.

‘Cap’n!’

‘Find us a nice, out-of-the-way port with a good hospital, lively nightlife and a place where a man can find a game of Rake.’

‘Skinner’s Gorge?’

‘Skinner’s Gorge sounds good to me.’

There was another cheer, and they slapped each other’s backs and shook hands in wild and vague congratulations. The chest full of ducats was forgotten already. They had all they needed. They were glad just to be alive.

Frey couldn’t keep down a grin. As he looked at the laughing faces of his crew, he was consumed by a surge of affection for these people, these men and women who shared his aircraft and his life. They were happy, and free, and the endless sky awaited them.

It was enough.