Retribution Falls - Chris Wooding [170]
Frey heard Malvery start up on the autocannon, blasting away at a pirate fighter as it screamed overhead. He ignored it, steered away from the main conflict, and angled the Ketty Jay toward the platform he wanted. The quality of architecture there was the highest in the town, and Frey was pleased to see it had suffered only superficial damage.
That was good, since he planned to land there.
“You sure you want to do this, Cap’n?” Jez asked doubtfully, peering through the windglass. Large sections of Retribution Falls had been wrecked. Plumes of smoke billowed from their ruins. “There’s no telling how long it’ll be before someone shells the shit out of that platform too.”
Frey was anything but sure. “They’re concentrating fire on the pirate frigates now,” he said, mostly to convince himself. “The town itself isn’t a threat.” Malvery cheered in triumph from the cupola. Frey assumed he’d made a hit.
“Your call, Cap’n,” she said. “But we can get out of this now if we want to.”
“I hear you, Jez,” he said. But he was committed in his heart now. He couldn’t turn back.
At least this time he’d consulted his crew. He’d outlined his plan and asked them if they wanted to be part of it. Nobody was being forced; nobody was being duped. He wasn’t going to order anyone into this.
Some were reluctant. Some thought it would be better to cut their losses. They weren’t keen on the risk. But in the end, all of them agreed. Because they trusted him. Because he was their captain.
Frey took the Ketty Jay closer to the platform. Jez leaned over his shoulder and pointed. “There’s the square.”
“Malvery!” he yelled. “Get out of the cupola and get ready!”
Jez picked up her rifle from beneath the navigator’s station as Frey brought the Ketty Jay down in the square. Those few people who were nearby went running as she came in to land, hard and heavy because Frey was too nervous to be careful. She bumped down with a jolt that made Jez stagger.
Frey sat there for a moment. Overhead, shells exploded and pirate fighters weaved through the sky. He should just take off again. He didn’t have to do this. Maybe this was just history repeating, another all-or-nothing hand of Rake that might win him everything or lose it all, when he should have just laid down his cards and walked away with what he had.
You’ve got a craft, a crew, and the whole world to explore. Nobody’s your master. Now, that’s not so bad, is it? If you’re lucky, the Coalition will pardon you when all this is done. Drave may be a mean bastard, but he doesn’t seem like a liar. You’ll be free.
Whether Drave would honor his word or not was a moot point. He wasn’t sticking around to see. As soon as he’d done what he came here to do, he planned to run. The Navy would be tied up here for a while. Let them pardon him in his absence.
But first there was the small matter of fifty thousand ducats. Fifty thousand ducats that had been promised him by the brass-eyed whispermonger Quail. Fifty thousand ducats that he felt he’d damn well earned by now.
This was their chance to be rich. To leave the rogue’s life behind and allow themselves a bit of comfort. Equal shares for them all, because everyone had done their part.
He looked out of the cockpit at the barricade surrounding Orkmund’s stronghold. The square they’d landed in lay right in front of it. A few days ago, they’d stood here to hear the great pirate speak. Somewhere inside that building was a red chest with a silver wolf clasp that he’d first seen being loaded onto the Moment of Silence when he visited Amalicia Thade at the Awakener hermitage.
The thought of Amalicia surprised him. From the moment he left the hermitage, he’d completely forgotten about her. To suddenly encounter her in his memory was a jolt, like rediscovering a discarded trinket that he thought was lost forever.
“Are we going?” Jez asked.
“We’re going,” said Frey. He got out of his chair and ran down the corridor to the