The Nature of a Pirate by A. M. Dellamonica

Author:A. M. Dellamonica
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

CHAPTER 22

Kir Sophie:

Constitution has instituted a shipwide ban on the sealing wax used in the final stage of the frightmaking spell, and has been searching everyone who comes aboard and detaining those who have any on their person.

Of those detained, seven have been found to be under compulsion, and were subsequently induced to create frights on decoy hulls made of spruce. These individuals have been moved to Docket and are being examined by the Watch, to determine whether they are innocent victims or willing coconspirators.

With such proofs at hand, it has been accepted by the Convene that the target of the ship sinkers is indeed Constitution. The matter has not been made public, but Erefin Salk suggests that the government and courts may be inclined to view our work with an even more friendly eye.

Yours,

Cinco Mel Humbrey, fingerprint technician of the Forensic Institute

When Sophie opened her eyes, the infirmary cabin was dark and full of men, all awake, all looking at her. Bram had her hand. Watts, the cat on his lap now, was within easy reach of two pots of steaming fluid. Garland was at the foot of the bunk, looking pensive.

He’d make a good portrait, looking like that. He could pass for a Romantic poet midway through a serious brood.

She enjoyed the view a moment longer before finally moving her tongue. Finding no obstruction in her mouth, she swallowed—taste of blood—and counted her teeth. All present and accounted for. “How long I been out?”

“About three hours,” Bram said.

“That’s anticlimactic. Am I better?”

Watts nodded. “There was some blood loss.”

“Contagious?”

“No.”

She looked at the trio of grim faces. “So it’s Twenty Questions time? Come on, what happened?”

“Doctor,” said Garland. His voice was steely.

Seas, it’s bad. She felt a bright stab of fear.

Watts was checking her pulse. “This migraine you mentioned? You’ve never had one before?”

“Migraines don’t make your gums bleed, as far as I know.” The thought of altitude sickness flitted through her mind. But that was ridiculous for half a dozen reasons. Among them, the fact that they were at sea level.

“It is possible you just got a bad seed in something, or reacted to the Sledge food.”

“But?”

“The most likely explanation is inscription. Someone worked a magical intention on you.”

She realized that she wasn’t surprised.

“Lidman?”

“Too carefully guarded,” Bram said. “He has nothing to write with, and no components. Selwig searched his cabin, top to bottom, while you were out.”

She said, “It could be anyone, aboardship or off.”

“Your name is known,” Watts agreed.

“We don’t know what they did? I could grow a second head, or—”

“If you’d been transformed, we’d know by now.”

“Perhaps Bettona did something else. Another eragliding ritual?”

“That’s very likely,” Garland agreed.

“Chances are it’s quite a light intention,” Watts said.

“Why?”

“With the load you’re already carrying, a heavy one…”

Would have killed me, she thought.

“What about next time?” Bram demanded.

“Danger increases with every inscription,” Watts said. “The suffering, too.”

“There’s no relief if we tear up the other spells?” Bram said. “Beatrice’s?”

“You already know she’s borne that load,” Watts said.

“Reversion is its own form of unpleasantness,” Garland added.

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