Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) (11 page)

The
LaDonna
spared not a single empty cabin as we
made our way out of the harbor and into the channel between Inselgrau and Galland.
Fate persisted in bringing Gideon and me together in increasingly tight
quarters. The greedy Captain Barilla had sold my cabin to a last minute
passenger and insisted I take the little bit of extra space in Gideon’s tiny
room.

“It have
two
bunks,” Barilla explained when he found
me staring gaped mouth before my cabin as his porter scooted my meager
possessions into Gideon’s cabin next door. “Brothers and sisters share.”
Barilla slapped his hand on his thigh like a judge banging his gavel, and he
disappeared onto the deck, leaving me helpless to protest.

Gideon crouched over his saddlebags, but glanced over his
shoulder at me. He wore an inscrutable expression, hiding his thoughts and
feelings. My attempts at avoiding him had come to an end—the narrowing confines
of the ship made eluding him impossible.

Maybe enough time had passed since Gideon’s introduction to
Jonathan Faercourt to dispel the worst of his outrage, though I doubted he
would let me off without a stiff inquisition. At the least, I hoped Gideon had the
decency not to berate me or cause a scene in public—not if he wanted to
maintain our secrecy. Based on that assumption, I adjusted my strategy: if I
couldn’t avoid him, I could, at any rate, make it hard for him to catch me alone.

Jackie came from seeing to things in his cabin and
discovered me fixed in place outside my former room. “Well, I hope Barilla
offers you a refund,” he said after hearing my explanation. “If he doesn’t, let
me know. I’ll see that he deals with you fairly. Shall we go up top? Get some
fresh air?”

I nodded stupidly and let him direct me up the stairs and
onto the deck. Gideon trailed behind us, a silent and imposing chaperone. A
stiff ocean breeze greeted us as we made our way to the starboard railing. Jackie
stood close beside me and smiled when I glanced his way. The sun illuminated
his pale hair and lent a rosy hue to his pale skin. Gideon stood several yards
away, grinding his teeth in mute infuriation. I meant to enjoy Jackie’s
company, no matter how much his presence stoked Gideon’s ire, no matter how
much it hurt to leave my homeland.

The open ocean glimmered in the morning sun—a million
sparkling gems woven into an undulating sheet of blue silk. The sea breeze
caught in my hair and whipped the loose strands across my cheeks and forehead.
I gazed at the horizon and kept Inselgrau’s diminishing coastline at my back. When
Jackie and I had stopped there along the ship’s railing, he couldn’t have known
how it hurt me to watch the retreating coastline, how it pained me to leave my
birthplace, my father’s kingdom.

Most of the ship’s inhabitants stared toward the harbor and the
shrinking skyline. They could afford to look back because they believed in
their eventual return. I held no such belief, and looking back cost too much of
the very little of myself I still possessed.

Jackie leaned in and spoke in my ear, distracting me from my
gloom. His warm breath brushed my ear, making me shiver. “The last time I left
Inselgrau, it was on a morning as fine as this one, with breezes just as fresh.
The sailing was smooth and the weather fine. I hope the same can be said for
this trip.”

The lump of emotion in my throat made speech impossible, so
I nodded and squeezed the hand he had tucked into the crook of my elbow.

“Don’t miss Inselgrau too much,” he said. “You’re on your
way to a grand new world, and you’ve got me to keep you company on your way
there.” His eyes twinkled. “What more could you want?”

I smiled, though it was a weak effort, to let him know I
appreciated his companionship.

“My aunt’s home is in Pecia, as I’ve told you. If you agree
to it, I’ll speak to your brother about paying her a visit. She has the room to
spare and you could stay with us for a while before you start for Dreutch. My
sister would like it very much.” Jackie cleared his throat and shifted his
weight. “
I
would like it very much.” His pale eyes reflected many
things, emotions that reached into deep places in my heart. Places I had closed
away after my father’s death. My heart quavered.

“
Eh hem
.” The unmistakable sound of Gideon clearing
his throat broke the thick atmosphere between Jackie and me.

I flinched, but Jackie only grinned
.
“Gideon, how
does the sailing suit you?” Gideon’s interruption hadn’t deterred Jackie—he
remained close, nearly pinned to my side.

“It suits me best when I don’t have to do it anymore, and my
feet are planted squarely on solid ground.” Gideon shifted his cold eyes to
mine. “Grace, could I talk to you about our new room arrangement.”

“I’m sure I don’t know much more than you.”
Delay, delay,
delay…

His eyes flickered to Jackie for a moment before returning
to me, and his jaw tightened in the briefest grimace. “Well, come and make the
beds at least. I’m no good with linens. I was hoping to take a nap.”

It was the weakest excuse ever uttered, especially from him.
“I’m sure the ship has got staff for that sort of thing.”
Doesn’t it?

“
Grace
,” Gideon growled and jerked his head toward
the stairway leading to our berth. Jackie might have protected me, if I had
turned to him for help, but he’d come to my rescue enough for one day.

“All right. I’m coming.” I gave in with slumped shoulders
and bowed head. Jackie chuckled behind me as I shuffled away.

Once he had me alone in our room, Gideon dropped all
pretenses. “Tell me everything, starting with why you
didn’t
tell me
about Jonathan Faercourt.”

“I didn’t think I would ever see him again.” Knowing truth
and brevity would pave the fastest route through this ordeal, I recounted my
first encounter with Jackie as summarily as possible.

“And I guess you think it’s coincidence he showed up again
yesterday?”

I shook my head. “Not coincidence. He said our talk made him
miss his sister. He was inspired to go see her.”

Gideon’s eyebrows arched high. “And you
believe
him?”

I folded my arms over my chest and glared. Actually, I hadn’t
made up my mind about Jonathan Faercourt, but Gideon’s skepticism inspired my
stubbornness.

“You’re too trusting.”

“I trust
you
,” I spat. “Is that a mistake?”

He balled his fists. “I’d rather you trusted no one, not
even me, rather than take it for granted that the people crossing your path
these days are there by chance.”

“What do you think he’s up to if he’s not doing what he
says?”

“I don’t know, but until I find out, I intend to sleep with
one eye open—and you should too.”

Dismissive laughter bubbled up in my chest, but I quiet it
before it escaped. Gideon’s logic had proved reliable so far, and I really didn’t
know Jackie. “I’ll be careful. How much can go wrong on this ship anyway,
especially now that we’re sharing a room again?”

Gideon grumbled as he left the tiny room. “You’d be
surprised.”

The whole confrontation went better than anticipated. Either
giving Gideon time to cool off had worked, or he thought I understood my
mistake well enough already. I couldn’t regret meeting Jackie, but I wished our
introduction had occurred under more auspicious circumstances. Out of respect
for my guardian and his protection of me, I resolved to keep my
self-preservation in mind whenever I interacted with Jackie. If he turned out
to be as harmless as I believed, then I would have nothing to regret in the
end— whenever and whatever that might be.

For lack of anything better to do, I shook out the folded
bedlinens and attempted to make up our berths. I might not have folded the
corners with Gerda’s precision, but I managed to lay things mostly straight.
The linens appeared adequately white and smelled of lye soap. Perhaps that
meant an infestation of bed pests wouldn’t attack me during the night. But I
wouldn’t hold my breath.

***

As the sun sank into the ocean, and the stars broke out
overhead, Jackie, Gideon, and I sat down to dinner with the other passengers at
a table arranged on the deck-top. The
LaDonna’s
cook served a spicy dish
of prawns and rice with an olive salad accompanied by an extremely dry red
wine. The foreign food was exciting and represented the many unknowns in my
future.

Among our sailing companions, I recognized the gentleman who
had procured his passage with Captain Barilla the afternoon before. “I am Giovanni
Sabato,” he said and motioned to the girl beside him. “My lovely companion is
my daughter, Ameliera. We are going home to Vinitzia after business on
Inselgrau. We miss our home dearly, do we not, Ameliera?”

“Yes, Papa,” his daughter said. Her delicate features and
smooth skin gave her a surreal quality, porcelain almost, and I couldn’t tell
if she was younger than me or closer to the same age. Her ebony curls reflected
the light of the setting sun, and she resembled the figure in a painting in
Father’s study—a young mother—
La Madre
—crowned by a circle of light
while she cradled her haloed baby boy.

The other passenger, the one who bought my room out from
under me, kept to himself. He gave short, terse answers when Jackie questioned
him. The circumspect man confessed his name at Jackie’s insistence. “Vesper
Praston, of Shaw,” he said.

I almost gave myself away when he admitted to hailing from
Shaw, a village near my hometown. Gideon kicked my shin when he saw my face
light up. I scowled at him but shut my mouth. I had almost told the stranger my
origins—a stupid mistake. Father had insured I grew up in a guarded home, but I
was never a guarded person and protecting my identity went against my nature.
Gideon Faust, however, excelled at concealing his personal truths. Would I ever
find the key to unlocking him?

Mr. Praston behaved in an aloof matter throughout dinner,
but Gideon’s stoicism far surpassed anyone else’s reservations. He left the
table when the cook served dessert, a Dundee cake sweetened with black treacle
and dotted with dried fruit and nuts. The cake was virtually a staple in the
Inselgrish diet. How appropriate that I should eat it on the day I left my
homeland. Gideon’s sudden departure bothered me, though I mostly dismissed his
absence as his typical anti-social behavior. Still, something in his demeanor
seemed off, even for him, and I vowed to question him about it later.

“My daughter, she have a beautiful voice, and I am not so
bad with my violin,” Signore Sabato said after dinner. “I will like to play for
you, Miss Faust, Master Faercourt, if this is to please you?” Signor Sabato
paused, nodding at both of us. He gauged our interest in his offer before
continuing. “I think there is little other opportunity for amusement for us
tonight.”

Jackie clapped his hands once. “Well, I think it’s a
brilliant idea, don’t you, Grace?” He smiled broadly, his happiness
unflappable.

I nodded. “Sounds wonderful, signore.”

We separated while father and daughter retired to their
cabin and prepared for their musical presentation. I promised to meet Jackie on
deck after I took a few personal moments to freshen up. Really, I wanted to
find Gideon and ask him about his stranger-than-usual behavior, but he was nowhere
on deck or in our room.

I straightened my hair and brushed stray crumbs from the
wrinkles in my road-worn clothes, stalling for a few moments before returning
to Jackie’s side to give audience to an evening of Vinitzian entertainment. As
I started from my room, my cloak caught my eye, hanging from a peg by the door.
I slung it around my shoulders as a ward against the chill in the evening sea
breeze.

Twilight arrived and faded into night while Signor Sabato
played. Ameliera and Jackie took turns singing or combining their voices for
duets. Captain Barilla and a few crew members found their way into the
audience. They clapped madly at the end of each song and shouted requests. The
performers eventually begged for reprieve and the small crowd dispersed.

Gideon and Vesper Praston had failed to ever make an
appearance, and Gideon hadn’t shown up in our room by the time I returned.
Before I could worry further, a hand slipped over my mouth, and strong fingers
clamped around my wrist. I shrieked a muffled cry.

A strange male voice whispered in my ear. “Shhh, Lady
Stormbourne, let us not disturb our shipmates.”

My stomach plummeted at the familiar use of my name. I
assumed no one on board besides Gideon knew who I was.
Gideon!
What had
happened to him? How had this stranger slipped past my bodyguard?

“Your companion has been disposed of,” the stranger said as
if reading my mind. “Don’t expect his assistance.”

Disposed of, what did that mean? My accoster exhaled in my
ear, his breath reeking of old tobacco and rot. “You will come with me now, and
you will remain silent. Unless you want to see other passengers harmed, you
will follow my instruction implicitly.”

The man bound my hands behind me with what felt like rough
hemp rope—the kind found in abundance aboard the ship. Steady swells rocked the
floors beneath our feet, and the swaying had grown more noticeable since I
first entered the room. Did my fear make the waves seem aggressive, or was a
storm approaching? With a few tight jerks, my captor finished tying the knots
around my hands, and pressed something sharp into my back.

“Let’s go up, shall we?” He shoved me out the cabin door and
pushed me toward the steps leading to the deck.

Once we reached the top of the stairs, I glanced over my
shoulder at my assailant. In the moonlight, I recognized the man who called
himself Vesper Praston. I cursed. I should have been more suspicious of a man
claiming to come from a town so close to mine. He undoubtedly recognized me.
Either that, or had followed me to the ship on purpose. Not that it mattered.
He had me bound, and I wasn’t likely to get away.