The Last Uncharted Sky by Curtis Craddock

Author:Curtis Craddock [Craddock, Curtis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780765389671
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

Seventeen

A commotion from the main deck caught Jean-Claude’s attention and compelled him to his feet. Had the Dame Formue caught up with Travers? He lurched to the front of his enclosure, which was as far as he’d been permitted to go, and indeed, the pirate on guard growled quite menacingly at him.

The Solar had risen, though its winter light was thin and the shadows deep and disturbing to Jean-Claude’s wounded eye. Over the pirate’s shoulder and through the open door, he caught the moment of transformation as a winging gull erupted into Hasdrubal’s goat-man shape.

Ivar and Czensos met him, and began a discussion Jean-Claude could not hear. That wouldn’t do.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Ahoy Hasdrubal, you great goat-humping bastard. You missed me!” There was naturally a danger in getting his attention, but he’d learn little watching from afar. Besides, Czensos had plans for him that precluded him being prematurely killed.

Hasdrubal’s ear twitched around and his gaze fell on Jean-Claude. He let off talking to Ivar and stalked toward Jean-Claude, brushing Czensos aside. As he drew near, Jean-Claude was happy to note a long patch of burned skin along his neck; the phlogiston wax had given him a wound he could not easily shift away.

“Heretic,” Hasdrubal brayed, his horizontal pupils narrowed to slits. His right hand blurred and grew talons the size of poniards. “Consider yourself blessed beyond measure that you will be slain by the hand of Hasdrubal himself. I will feed your soul to the Breaker so that she may carry it with her into oblivion when I cast her out of Creation.”

Czensos hooked his arm with his wicked staff, the quondam prosthesis holding back sorcerous strength. “Hasdrubal, stop, we need him alive. Travers will extract the location of the bonekeel shard from him.”

Hasdrubal withdrew his hand but did not put his talons away. “The shard is redundant so long as we have the Windcaller.”

Ivar said, “Aye, but Travers doesn’t know that, and giving him Jean-Claude to play with will make him think he has more leverage than he does.”

“We have the key,” Czensos said, removing the ring from his finger and presenting it to Hasdrubal.

Hasdrubal growled but subsided, returning his hand to its normal blunt-fingered shape before accepting the ring.

Jean-Claude said, “You really think you’re going to fulfill the Prophecy?”

Hasdrubal peered at Jean-Claude through the loop of the ring. “The Prophecy is the Breaker’s greatest lie. I was raised and trained to believe the Savior will come and finish the task the saints began. He will restore the Primus Mundi, but only once we have prepared the way. My belief in the Prophecy was absolute, but so was that of every other fanatic. Thus every sect and cult seeks to impose their will upon the world, believing that only their truth can save it. Yet with every passing decade, the number of sects grows. The number of heresies multiplies with each new schism, perfection recedes into confusion, and the soul of the world rots.

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