The Black Lung Captain - Chris Wooding [26]
But he’d still possessed the arrogance of the aristocracy. The knowledge that no matter what he did, he’d never not be rich. Whatever trouble he got into, someone would look after him.
Maybe that was why he did what he did. He’d not known what sorrow or torment or hardship meant until then. But he learned those lessons well in the time that followed.
“Right,” said Hodd, clapping his hands. “Are we all ready?”
Belts were tightened, coats buttoned, bootlaces tied and retied. Pinn took a few test steps to check the weight of his pack.
“Off we go, then!” Hodd cried.
“Where are we headed?” Jez asked.
That stumped Hodd for a moment. “Er … to the crashed Azryx aircra—”
“No, I mean … don’t you have a map? Directions?” Jez asked. “You said it would be more than a day’s walk. I wondered how you were intending to find it again.” She looked around the group and shrugged. “Sorry. Navigator. I just want to know.”
Hodd smiled broadly and tapped his head. “It’s all in here, Miss.”
“You remember the way,” Jez said doubtfully. She eyed the forested flanks of the mountains that surrounded them. “Are you sure? Once we’re in there, we’ll get pretty badly lost if you’re wrong.”
“Be assured, I never forget a route,” he said. “I’ve possessed a rather remarkable talent for pathfinding ever since I was a child. It was what inspired me to be an explorer, actually.”
“And what did Daddy think about that?” Crake asked, and immediately regretted it. He didn’t want to have a conversation with this buffoon, but he’d been unable to resist a bitter jibe. It had just come out.
Hodd missed Crake’s tone and the implied insult entirely. “He was rather disappointed,” he said, looking downcast. “My father sits in the House of Chancellors for the Duchy of Rabban, and my six brothers all work in the field of law. But I had a different calling.”
“An explorer,” said Crake. “So I see. Ever found anything?” Frey gave him a look, but he ignored it.
“Well, not anything that you’d see on the front page of the broadsheets, but I have led many expeditions to far-flung places and contributed valuable knowledge in the fields of—”
“And how many people have you lost on your expeditions? Aside from your entire team the last time you were here?”
Hodd looked wounded, unable to understand the source of this hostility. “Sir, I don’t know what I might have done to offend you, but—”
“Do you even know?” Crake asked. The fury exploded from nowhere. Suddenly he was red-faced and shouting. “Do you even know how many porters and pilots and natives died while you were playing explorer with your daddy’s money? How many people?”
The group stared at Crake, shocked. Hodd had gone pale. He looked to Grist, as if the burly captain might defend him.
“Crake,” murmured Jez. “Leave it alone.”
“People like him!” Crake snorted. “Other people die for their dreams of glory. It won’t be him that gets killed in there.”
“Now, now,” said Grist, raising his hands. “Let’s all play nice, hmm? We all trust Mr. Hodd when he says he’s goin’ to lead us to great treasure.” He put his arm round Hodd and gave him a menacing squeeze. “ ’Cause he knows what’ll happen if he don’t.”
The explorer grinned nervously. “It’s that way,” he said, pointing. With a few odd looks at Crake, they began to shuffle off toward the forest. Jez gave him a sympathetic glance and then turned away. Crake shouldered his pack and followed her.
I wonder if I’ll make it back alive, Crake thought.
He honestly couldn’t bring himself to care.
THE RAIN BEGAN IN the afternoon. It came with considerable force.
Frey had been rained on before, but this was up there with the best of them. Leaves and branches bowed and rocked under the onslaught. A wet mist gathered in the air until it was hard to see anything more than a half dozen meters away. The forest filled with the hiss of falling water and the hoots and screeches of excited animals in the treetops.
What little good cheer had attended their departure rapidly disappeared.