Retribution Falls - Chris Wooding [182]
For his baby, that died for its parents’ cowardice.
He’d condemned them all when he agreed to take on the Ace of Skulls. But since then he’d clawed back all he’d lost, and more besides. He’d forged a crew, and he’d reclaimed himself. Perhaps that was all that was needed, in the end.
“What happens now, Trinica?” he asked her.
“I expect Grephen will hang,” she said. “The Awakeners … well, they’re too powerful to be brought down, even by this. But I think the Archduke will redouble his efforts to cripple them from now on.”
“I mean, what happens to us?”
Trinica gave him a bewildered look. “How would I know? I expect you’ll get your pardons, even if you’re not there to collect them.”
“You’re letting us go?”
“Of course I am,” she said. “Everyone who put a bounty on your head has either withdrawn it or is in no position to pay anymore. Why would I want you?”
His crew visibly relaxed. Frey brushed away a lock of hair that was blowing across his forehead.
“And you?” he asked.
“I’ll be heading off somewhere,” she replied, nonchalant. “I suppose I’ll have to keep out of the Navy’s way from now on, but I’ll survive.”
She motioned to her bosun, who filled a leather bag with coins from the chest. He tied it with a thin piece of rope and gave it to her. It was almost too big to hold in one hand. She weighed it thoughtfully, then hefted it toward Frey, who barely caught it.
“Finder’s fee,” she said. “That, and you can keep your craft.”
“That’s uncommonly merciful of you, Trinica.”
She smiled, and this time it wasn’t the chilly, guarded smile he’d come to know. It was the smile of the old Trinica, from a time before her world had become full of horrors, and it flooded him with a bittersweet warmth.
“I’m feeling sentimental,” she said. “Goodbye, Captain.”
She turned her back on them then and walked toward the shuttle that sat a short way distant. Her men closed the chest and gathered it up. Frey and his crew watched as they disappeared inside the craft and it lifted off from the ground, taking them back to the Delirium Trigger.
“Well,” said Malvery, squinting against the dust as he watched them dwindle into the distance. “That’s just about our luck.”
“Cheer up!” said Frey. “We’ve got three aircraft, enough ducats to keep us in the sky for a year, and the world at our feet. I’d say we’re the luckiest crew in Vardia right now.”
“I’d feel a damn sight luckier if that witch hadn’t buggered off with our loot,” Malvery griped.
Frey slapped him on the shoulder. “Look on the bright side. She might have killed us.”
“There is that,” Malvery conceded.
“Is … umm … I was wondering, is anyone else hungry?” Harkins inquired.
“We should probably take Silo to a hospital,” Jez suggested. “Get him a good bed and some nurses.”
Frey looked at Malvery. “How long before Silo’s capable of getting back to work? In your expert opinion?”
“Three weeks, I’d say,” Malvery said. “Maybe four.”
Frey scratched the back of his neck. “Well, what with all we’ve been through, we probably deserve a little port time.”
Pinn’s eyes lit up at the prospect of booze and whores. Frey held up the bag of coins. “Drinks are on me tonight!”
There was a cheer from the men.
“Jez!” he barked.
“Cap’n!”
“Find us a nice out-of-the-way port with a good hospital, lively nightlife, and a place where a man can find a game of Rake.”
“Skinner’s Gorge?”
“Skinner’s Gorge sounds good to me.”
There was another cheer, and they slapped one another’s backs and shook hands in wild and vague congratulations. The chest full of ducats was forgotten already. They had all they needed. They were glad just to be alive.
Frey couldn’t keep down a grin. As he looked at the laughing faces of his crew, he was consumed by a surge of affection for these people, these men and this woman who shared his aircraft and his life. They were happy, and free, and the endless sky awaited them.
It was enough.
How to Play Rake
HISTORY
Rake is a variant of poker, in which the player