“I had to go a long way to find her,” Brother Barnaby added in a soft, low tone.
Gythe gave him a wavering smile. She still bore traces of tears on her face; her clothes were stained, her hair wildly disheveled, falling over her face. Her blue eyes were soft and glistening, their gaze never straying long from the monk. Gythe touched her hand to Stephano’s mouth, indicating that the conversation was at an end. Tugging Brother Barnaby with her, she drew him over to where Rodrigo was throwing his line over the rail. He smiled at her.
“Glad to see you up and about, my dear.”
In answer, she took Rodrigo’s hand in hers, turned his hand palm up, and, using the tip of her finger, drew something in his palm. Then she closed his fingers over it and smiled and, bringing Brother Barnaby with her, went to the forecastle to join her sister.
Rodrigo blew her a kiss and went back to his fishing.
“She gave him a Trundler good luck charm,” Father Jacob said, coming up behind Stephano. “Your friend is greatly honored. The Trundlers do not bestow such charms lightly.”
“I would have said before now that Rigo was the last person to need a lucky charm,” said Stephano. “He’s always been Fortune’s favorite. Lately, though it seems Fortune’s turned against him.”
“On the contrary,” said Father Jacob dryly. “He’s extremely fortunate I am not taking him back to the Black Citadel. Not as a prisoner,” he added, seeing Stephano’s alarm. “I have been trying to persuade him to become one of us. He’s quite brilliant, your friend. Too brilliant for his own good.”
Stephano didn’t like that comment. He took it to be a veiled threat. He didn’t understand what any of this was about; he was in the deeps, way over his head when it came to magic. He was thankful beyond words that the priest was leaving the boat and he prayed to God and all the saints that he and Father Jacob would never meet again.
“You’d be wasting your time, Father. Rigo refuses to wear black. He says it makes his complexion look sallow.”
Father Jacob smiled, but the smile was inward, thoughtful, knowing, and it made Stephano uncomfortable. He quickly changed the subject. “I want to thank you, Father, for bringing Brother Barnaby to help Gythe-”
“God brought Brother Barnaby,” said Father Jacob, his smile warming. “I merely provided the means of transportation.”
He stood regarding the three of them. Miri was explaining the workings of the helm, to Brother Barnaby, who was asking questions and telling her about the helm aboard Retribution. Gythe had let go of his hand, but she had hold of a fold of the monk’s sleeve. She did not take her eyes from his face.
“He went into her darkness to find her,” said Father Jacob quietly. “He fought her demons and brought her safely home.”
“And now it’s time Brother Barnaby went safely home,” said Stephano, not sure he liked what he was seeing.
He turned to Father Jacob and held out his hand.
“Father Jacob, it has been a-” Stephano started to say “pleasure” but couldn’t quite get that word out. “It’s been interesting meeting you.”
Father Jacob shook hands. “I do not need to remind you, Captain, that you and your friends are under Seal.”
Stephano started to end the handshake, but Father Jacob placed his other hand over Stephano’s and held him fast.
“We will, please God, be leaving for the Arcanum soon. I value your judgment, Captain de Guichen. I value it highly. If you hear of anything you think I should know, seek me at once. Come to me day or night, either here in Westfirth or in the Black Citadel of the Arcanum. I will give orders that you are always to have access to me.”
Stephano was startled by the priest’s words and his earnest tone. Stephano did not know how to respond, especially since he had just been thinking he would be glad to see the back of this priest.
“Thank you, Father,” said Stephano, trying unsuccessfully to withdraw his hand. Father Jacob had a very strong grip. “But I doubt if I would ever come across anything of interest to the Church.”
Instead of letting him go, Father Jacob tightened his grasp. He drew near to Stephano and said in soft tones, “What you saw at the abbey, Captain, has nothing to do with the Church, nothing to do with bishops and kings, princes and politics. I believe it has everything to do with the survival of all we hold dear.”
His gaze shifted to Miri and Gythe and Brother Barnaby, to Rodrigo and his fishing line, to Dag and Sir Ander and Master Albert, who were conferring on board the yacht.
Stephano was startled and uneasy. There was no doubting the priest’s sincerity or the ominous import of his words.
“I’m not sure I understand, Father,” said Stephano, troubled.
“I hope you never do,” said Father Jacob. “God bless and keep you, Captain.”
Father Jacob let go of Stephano’s hand after a bone-crushing shake that left his fingers tingling. Calling out to Sir Ander to join him, he went to the forecastle to say good-bye to Miri and Gythe and retrieve Brother Barnaby.
The shipyard was located close to the docks. The yard was surrounded by warehouses, and there were a number of taverns on the Rim that catered to the dockworkers, stevedores, crafters, and sailors; many of whom had come loitering over, ale mugs in hand, to observe the yacht and freely speculate about what had happened to it. Men in the shipyard and Master Albert were shouting back and forth; the men telling him to drop lines so that they could guide the ship into the yard and bring her down without harm. He and Dag were uncoiling lengths of rope, getting ready to toss down the lines.
Stephano had nothing to do and he was thinking that a mug of cold ale sounded very good right about now when he heard a voice from the ground shout out his name. He looked over the side and saw Benoit come dashing out of one of the taverns, waving his cane in the air in one hand and what appeared to be a letter in the other.
Stephano’s first thought was that this sudden appearance of the faithful family retainer who was supposed to be hundreds of mile away, comfortably settled in front of the family fireplace, couldn’t be good. His second and even more alarming thought was that Sir Ander knew Benoit. The Knight Protector would recognize him, want to be reunited with an old friend, and introduce Benoit to Father Jacob.
So far, Stephano had managed to avoid any mention about the job they were doing for his mother. To give him credit, Father Jacob had not asked what two gentlemen were doing aboard a Trundler houseboat, but Stephano knew the priest was curious. Father Jacob was the sort to be curious about everything and would probe and prod until he found the answer, if for no other reason than to satisfy himself. Benoit was loyal and trustworthy, but he had always been fond of Sir Ander; God only knew what the old man might decide to tell him.
Rodrigo had also spotted Benoit. He was staring down, openmouthed, and appeared just about ready to call out a greeting. Stephano ran across the deck to collar his friend.
“Shut up,” Stephano hissed in Rodrigo’s ear. “Not a word! I’ll go see what’s up. You get rid of that goddamn priest!”
Rodrigo glanced over his shoulder to see Father Jacob chatting with Gythe and Miri.
“Will do,” Rodrigo said and hurried off.
Stephano looked over the rail. Master Albert and Dag had thrown down the lines. Men below had hold of them. Retribution was starting to sink. Sir Ander was just now starting to release the tow rope.
Stephano vaulted over the rail of the Cloud Hopper and landed in the driver’s compartment of the Retribution. He dashed past Dag, who stared at him in astonishment.
“No time to explain!” Stephano shot out of the corner of his mouth. “You never saw me.”
Dag nodded coolly, not in the least surprised that some new crisis had arisen, and went back to work. Stephano hopped down onto one of the wings and leaped to the ground below. The shipyard workers gave him some startled glances, but they were too busy trying to bring the Retribution down to pay attention to some mad fellow jumping off a boat. Benoit had been watching his progress and was following him on the ground, waving the letter in his hand.
Stephano caught up with him.
“Oh, Master Stephano, I’m so glad to find you,” cried Benoit, nearly weeping with relief. “I’ve been waiting and waiting-”
“Not here!” Stephano snapped and he seized hold of Benoit, almost lifting the old man off his feet, and
