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“You are here to listen to me,” the voice was raspy but strong. A male voice that wasn’t used to being argued with.
“Or I could just walk out the way I came in. You know what I want.”
“You have... no respect,” the voice broke off, coughing.
“Respect is for pups and old Folk. Are the rumours true?”
“You must respect the ways—” He sounded desperate, almost whiny.
“And so I shall,” said Wenna Cox. “But a Geas is a high price. You know what I want, if I’m to take on whatever you’re leaving behind. Is she real?”
The old pirate chuckled, a breathy, last laugh kind of chuckle. “Irony. She’s got what you want and what I want. You'll... hold the treasure... I never will—” He broke off, coughing again. It sounded nasty. Ixxy hoped it wasn’t catching.
“Listen, old man, this has been a pleasure and all. But I ain’t throwin’ my life away chasin’ down old sailorsʼ tales. If you don’t give me good reason, I’m not takinʼ your Geas.”
“You—” More coughing, great, worrying, rattly hacks. Ixxy wondered if he’d stop, but if he did, would he stop breathing too? But then he carried on, more desperate. He really was desperate for someone to continue what had been his life’s work. “There’s—a map.”
Wenna sighed theatrically, “There’s always a map.”
“No!” the old man sounded frantic, was Wenna turning to go? “I sent my only son to find her.”
“And he came back with a map?”
“No. He found her. Know how I know? Old Nettie had him killed. Killed afore he could tell us how the map worked!” That last rant had cost him. It had stopped Wenna in the doorway though. Ixxy heard the gasp. Cetus breathed heavily now. She held her own breath to hear what was going on. She heard a scraping noise and felt something move underneath her. Behind her, someone had her ankles.
“Out you come, you rat!” A nasal voice and the point of a knife at her ribs. “Know what we do with spies on our ship?” He dragged her into the air by her ankle. He was strong and he was tall.
“Let them go nicely?” Ixxy said before she could close her mouth. It raised a laugh on deck. Then her captor struck her in the face with the butt off the knife.
“What do we do?” shouted her nasal captor across the deck.
“To the mast!” yelled the crew. Ixxy’s blood ran cold. “To. The. Mast.” They chanted. She could feel the eagerness rising in them. Heard the number of them — they must outnumber the boarding party by three to one. If her small crew intervened, it’d be a bloodbath. She lived by pirate law now and that was different on each boat. The Captain set the laws. If she wasn’t to live much longer, then she hoped it would be quick. She felt hands all over her, tearing off her armour, another tying a rope around her ankle. Then she felt the air rush past her as she was hoisted into the air, swinging. Her pulse rang in her ears, almost drowning out the baying of the crew and the louder shouts of her captor, whom she assumed to be the First Mate of Cetus’ crew. Much good that would do her now. He seemed to be organising them on the deck below her, but she couldn’t rely on her Air-sense without making herself sick. “Back behind the barrels! Ok. One at a time, you knows the rules. Now loose!”
Ixxy heard a cheer go up, heard something whizz through the air and then smash near the prow of the ship. They were throwing things at her. This was some ghastly game of target practice and she was the target. Something stabbed into her flailing arm then fell loose. They were throwing knives too. Whatever they could get their hands on, they would throw at her until she was dead. Something hard and heavy smashed into her thigh and she yelped. The crowd below cheered. Well, if she was to die like this, she wasn’t going to make it easy for them. She reached her arms behind her on what was left of her momentum, then brought them up in front of her as she swung. As she gained swing, she hoped that the seemingly poor discipline of the crew extended to their aim too. A bottle winged past her as proof of that. A stick whacked into her stomach — end first. Gods, she thought there was a spear point on that for a moment. It still hurt like all hells.
“Now it’s my turn!” shouted the First Mate. “Anyone want to lay a wager that I’ll hit her first go with this javelin? A whole credit stick says it’s too easy.”
A cheer went up from the crowd, then the boom of a compression charge. Who the hells had set that off?
“Now I have your attention,” Wenna Cox’s voice was ice, “Let me lay a wager of my own. Throw another thing at my apprentice and I’ll drop you where you stand.” There was a loud click from somewhere above the level of the crowd. The pavilion had a solid roof that Ixxy could sense now she heard the Captain’s voice from there.
“Hah!” said the First Mate and grunted as he threw.
Ixxy heard the loud twang of a crossbow and briefly heard the scream of the First Mate, even before the javelin hit her in the guts and her own screams drowned everything. There were more shots and more shouting, but Ixxy’s head was fizzing and it was hard to piece anything together. She heard the captain shout “CUT HER DOWN!”
Then she passed out.