Chasing the Lantern (28 page)

"Well," said Lina. "The treasure will probably all go toward his debt before anything. Or, a big chunk of it. That's probably why he wants that gemstone so badly." She paused. "He must think the locals took the gem from the
Albatross.
Though I can't imagine how the Captain would figure that out."

Andrea and Ryan looked at each other. "What debt?" they asked simultaneously.

"Fire four degrees off the starboard bow. And a city!"

A lookout atop the gas-bag had climbed down to yell from the ratlines. He pointed up ahead. Lina looked to the others and stood. The fires were mysterious, but nothing special. They'd been following them for most of a day now. But a city?

She grabbed Runt by its coils and slung it over her shoulder like a rope. The scryn chirped in indignation. Lina waited a moment for her friends and then made her way up to the bow. A mob had formed out of other crew just as curious as she. Lina pushed her way through them using Runt to surprise and dismay the bigger crewmates.

The jungle stretched out below them, a carpet of broad leaves and reaching branches that occluded any vision of the forest floor. Only the little dips and rises in the canopy hinted at differences in the terrain, hidden ravines or covered hills. Distantly she spied a thin column of smoke, maybe half an hour away at their current rate.

Lina knew what to expect. When they'd reached that first fire the night before, the captain had ordered a team down. Lina hadn't gone along, but from the deck of the airship she could see the site. It was empty, whoever had lit the fire long since gone, leaving not even tracks into the forest. Every fire since had resulted in the same, and she didn't expect this one to be any different.

There was something else, though. Past the fire and a little to its left stood a pyramid. It wasn't large. The structure just barely broke the canopy. Thick vines and foliage covered it. But in the light of the setting sun, the pale, golden stone and the cut of its stair-step shape was obvious.

Captain Fengel pushed his way through to the bow. Henry Smalls, Sarah Lome, and Lucian Thorne followed. The first mate glanced down at Lina and then jerked away with a curse. The captain produced a spyglass and extended it. He raised it up to peer at the jungle below for a long while before saying anything.

"Another fire, all right. And what looks like a ruined pyramid. More than that, there are other structures past it on the horizon. Lower to the ground. They're either smaller, or built lower than the surrounding landscape. Beneath a cliff, perhaps."

Fengel lowered the glass and tapped it against the bow rail. Lucian leaned over to get his attention. "Sir," he said. "This is obviously a trap. Whoever's lighting those fires is leading us straight to this place. We're not going to find anything at all worthwhile at that fire."

"Of course we're not," said Fengel with a smile. "But, unless I miss my guess, that's where the Lantern is." He turned back to the ship and the crew. "All hands to stations. Prepare for a fight. Miss Lome, prepare a shore party, myself included. Aah!"

Captain Fengel jerked back upon noticing Lina. And her pet. Runt uncurled and rose up to peer drunkenly at the pirate captain. "Chirr?" it asked, wavering a little.

Fengel regained his composure and glared at the scryn. "Miss Stone. I think that you shall accompany us too. Perhaps that creature of yours might be of help in an ambush."

He moved brusquely past. Lina's heart sank in her chest. Runt was not popular with the crew, and Captain Fengel had behaved oddly toward her since letting her keep it.

All hands meant everyone. Lina rolled Runt over her shoulders and took up her station beside the starboard rail. The crew bustled to find their own places. Equipment and arms lockers were thrown open. Muskets and pistols were passed to the best shots. Lina didn't get one, but that was just as well; she had only the barest idea of how to fire a gun.

Then came the waiting. The
Dawnhawk
floated through the air, quiet but for the creak of the ship and the whir of its propellers. The crew was watchful at first, taut with expectation. As minutes passed their tension faded. Hissed queries and suppositions went up and down the deck, quiet conversations about what they'd find, who built the ruins, and how they'd react to the pirates' presence. Lina joined in a little, but mostly kept a wary eye to the jungle down below, especially when the first mate stalked past her up the deck. He checked the stanchions and boarding-ropes, then ordered the idle chatter quiet. Lucian seemed on edge lately, frustrated about something. Lina kept her peace.

The smoke plume grew closer, a white, streaming beacon spiraling up through the canopy of the jungle. With each passing minute it thickened until, finally, they were almost over it. The airship slowed to a halt as terse orders rang out to the crew. Sarah Lome moved up the deck toward the bow. She paused by Lina and gestured for her to follow. Lina stood and followed obediently to where Captain Fengel, Henry Smalls, and several others waited.

This wasn't the first time they'd investigated one of the fires. The officers conferred and apparently saw nothing immediately alarming. Lina watched as Sarah hefted a sky-anchor and threw it down to catch the canopy below. Maxim came forward, along with Lucian. The aetherite was going ashore as well, though Lucian, as first mate, would likely stay behind, watching and ready to get them all aloft again in a hurry.

Andrea Holt tossed a coiled rope ladder over the rail. Fengel clambered immediately overboard. The others followed suit and shortly it was Lina's turn to go.

She glanced over the rail to the ground below. They were close enough to the smoke column that errant winds wafted the plume to brush against the ship. It smelled of burning wood and pungent sap. Its origin was a small clearing with a fire pit built in the center. It was otherwise unoccupied.

Lina checked the knives at her belt and gripped the ladder. She clambered over the gunwales and tried to ignore how it swung as she began her descent. Instead, she focused on the east, past the clearing and the nearby pyramid. Like the captain had said, there were other ruins. From her vantage they seemed to poke up from a space on the horizon several miles away, where the canopy disappeared down a ravine or past a cliff face.

The ruins were of the same stepped-pyramid design as the one nearby. They were wider, though, and unless the jungle played some trick, much, much larger. There was something about them, the way they were built, that plucked at the back of her brain. Lina felt as if she knew something, some distant memory, and it just wasn't coming to thought.

She descended down past the canopy of the jungle. The space darkened almost instantly, lit only by the flickering flames of a burning bonfire. Lina reached the bottom of the ladder where it hung a few feet off the ground. She dropped, moved aside, and turned to survey the area with her dagger at hand.

The clearing was not wide. Maybe three dozen feet across, most of it was dominated by the fire pit and the stacked bonfire that burned within it. Unlike the others they'd come across, this one was still live. The sky-pirates spread out, weapons drawn.

"Fire's still burning, Captain," said Sarah Lome.

"Your perception is keen as always," said Fengel. Their captain hefted his sword and gazed about the space. "No one here, but I do not think that they have gone too far this time. Keep a wary eye about for the locals. I still suspect a trap."

Runt rolled around Lina's shoulder, curious. She was suddenly, acutely aware of just how far she was from anywhere civilized, and how vulnerable they were in the small space of the clearing. The wood smoke of the fire covered the jungle smells she'd grown used to, and in the fading light she couldn't see more than a foot or two. Something howled, far off in the distance. Aside from the fire pit, there was nothing to indicate anyone had been here. No food, tools, or even a cleared space for a tent or suchlike.
Lucian
was right
.
This is a trap
.

Something caught her eye near the edge of the clearing. It was a mark, pressed into the loamy earth. Lina crept forward and examined it.

"Captain," she called. "I've found something."

The others quickly joined her.

"That looks like a footprint," said Henry Smalls.

It did. Though not like any that Lina had ever seen. It was smaller than that of a man and had only three long toes, almost like that of a bird, or a lizard. There were divots in the soil at the tip of each toe, as if they were clawed as well.

"Gunny Lome," said Captain Fengel. "It may be wise to get everyone back aboard the ship."

"Too late, sir," said the gunnery mistress.

Something in her voice raised the hairs on the back of Lina's neck. She whirled along with the other pirates to see the huge woman hefting her cutlass towards the opposite end of the clearing.

They were no longer alone.

A figure stood there, man-shaped but inhuman, just within the far edge of the clearing. It was shorter than a man, thin and wiry. Fine green scales covered it from the tip of its sinuous tail up to the lizard-like maw of its face. Lighter-colored scales covered the skin around its eyes, almost like a mask. Its hands had only three long fingers with a thumb, but long talons grew in place of fingernails. Its legs were backward-canted below the knee, and terminated in the long-toed feet that likely made the footprint she had found. The creature wore a loincloth, and a golden torque around its neck. It carried a simple wooden spear in one hand, tipped by sharpened crystal.

"Blades up, lads," cried Fengel. "Miss Stone, you're up the ladder first, everyone else cover the retreat!"

The lizard-creature held up a hand. Then it spoke. "Stay your blades, manlings," it said, voice raspy and unused to the cadence of human tongues. "I have been waiting for you." It took a step forward, lowering its spear in a non-threatening posture. "I have a great need, and only you may save my people from destruction."

Lina blinked.

Chapter Seventeen

Fengel stared at the reptilian creature. Too late he remembered his composure. Fortunately, the rest of the crew were surprised as well.
Never let them see you stumble.

"Capital," he said, forcing his voice to calm. The lizard-creature appeared to be alone. Gambling with an assurance he didn't feel, Fengel sheathed his sword in one smooth motion. Thankfully, the monster didn't scream and charge. It didn't snarl and throw its spear. Instead it crossed its arms over its chest and bowed down low at the waist.

"Rastalak," it said. "Of the Mauvengy Tribe." The creature's voice was sibilant, hissing as it spoke.

He nodded to it. "Captain Fengel, of the good ship
Dawnhawk
," he replied. Fengel gestured around at his crew. "These are my Men. Their names aren't important right now."

The others glanced over at him. Henry Smalls raised an eyebrow. Fengel ignored them, concentrating instead on their strange visitor. It watched them in silence. The awkward moment stretched out to a minute and then on to two. Beside them the fire crackled and burned. Something hooted in the depths of the jungle.

"Well, then," continued Fengel. "I assume that you're behind these signal fires we've been following? What is your purpose? Who are you, and what are you on about?"

Rastalak nodded slowly. "It was I who lit these prayer fires. It was I who spied your sky-barge to the west and hoped to lure you closer." Rastalak planted the butt of its spear in the ground and leaned on it. "My people are the Draykin. My tribe, the Mauvengy, are in danger. I think that only your kind can help them." It shook its head sorrowfully. "Again are we under the accursed thrall of Burning Eye. I had thought it gone forever, but the stone has returned itself. I beg of you to take it away once more."

Fengel paused.
I have no idea what the little monster is talking about.

The crew muttered amongst themselves. Maxim took a step forward. "What's this 'Burning Eye?'" he asked.

Rastalak knelt. It placed its spear aside and scratched at the ground with a long talon. A rough oval took shape, cross-hatched like a faceted egg. Or a cut gemstone. "Like this," said Rastalak. It then held both hands together, closed into fists. "And so."

"The Governor's Lantern!" exclaimed Fengel.

His heart was leaping in his chest. This was better than he could have hoped. He'd just known,
known
, that following the fires would lead him to the Lantern. Fengel took a calming breath and forcibly regained his composure. "Excuse me. But let me see if I understand you aright. You have the gemstone, this 'Burning Eye,' and you want us to take it away?"

The little Draykin nodded. Fengel felt a stupid grin crawl its way onto his face. He covered it with a cough into his fist. "Well," he said. "It's been a little out of our way, but I think we can accommodate you."

Rastalak pulled back the skin of its jaw in a strange smile and nodded furiously. It stood, grabbing up its spear. "This is most good," it said. "Come. The way will be difficult, and my people most hostile. But if we move quickly, and quietly, we will succeed."

The Draykin turned back to the jungle. Fengel blinked in confusion. He raised a hand to stop it.

"Sir," said Henry Smalls. "I don't think he has it on him."

Fengel scowled at his steward. "Hold on there," he said to Rastalak, waving his hands at the creature. "Hold on. I may have been hasty. Where
is
the Lantern at? And what did you mean by your people being 'most hostile?'"

The lizard-creature glanced back. It waved a claw at the eastward jungle. "The Burning Eye is ensconced again in its place, within the greatest temple-manse of Old Yrinium. The way is not far. But my people would resist its removal with claw and spear. They are under its sway, and the power of the Burning Eye is a fell one. We must be cunning, and quick. We sneak in, steal the Burning Eye, and you fly off never to return, yes?"