Immortal War

Porfirio. It’s claimed Bart Pearce and John Kuo and hundreds, if not thousands, of others besides. We have to put a stop to this right now. We need to make safe the oceans for the future. I can’t think of a better use for Molucco’s money than that, can you?”

Cheng Li was, uncharacteristically, silent. He thought he knew what she was thinking—what she would have said to him were Ahab Black not with them in this room. Connor, you’re a dhampir, you’re immortal. You’re going to need that money! But he knew better than that. He’d had a glimpse of his own death. And it didn’t terrify him half as much as the thought of losing this terrible war. If he had to die to bring about peace, so be it. He’d be joining the ranks of his dear friends and respected comrades. He’d have played his part in pirate history in a greater way than he could ever have imagined.

“Is there something you’d like me to sign?” he asked Commodore Black.

“Absolutely,” said Black, sliding a contract across the table, along with his fountain pen.

Connor took Black’s pen and, after a cursory glance over the text, signed his signature with a flourish.

“Excellent!” Ahab Black said, taking back the contract, folding it, and stowing it away safely in his pocket. “Okay, Tempest, well, it’s customary for you to kneel at this point…”

“Wait just a minute!” Cheng Li said. “You’re going to perform Connor’s investiture here and now? Doesn’t all his money at least buy him a proper ceremony?”

“Like yours?” Black asked. “I remember that day, before John Kuo’s untimely death. The sun was shining and the academy chefs surpassed themselves with their canapes. No, Commodore Li, I’m afraid this is a time of austerity. There won’t be any more grand events like that until—unless—we achieve peace on our terms.”

“It’s okay,” Connor said, falling to his knees. “I’m not so good on big occasions.” He smiled reassuringly at Cheng Li. “You know that.”

He’d rarely seen Cheng Li seem so sad or worried. His attention was distracted as Commodore Black unsheathed his sword and began to speak more formally.

“By the powers invested in me by the Pirate Federation, I, Commodore Ahab Black, grant Connor Tempest the title of Captain in perpetuity.”

Black lifted his sword and brought its cold metal face flush against the side of Connor’s neck.

“Plenty and satiety,” Black said, then moved the sword to the other side of Connor’s neck. “Pleasure and ease,” he continued. Then he moved the tip of the sword to Connor’s chest, right above his fast-beating heart, where it abutted the silver braid on Connor’s uniform. “Liberty and power,” said Black. Then, in a more avuncular voice, “You can get up now, Captain Tempest!”

“Wait!” Cheng Li cried. “What about the rest of the investiture? In your head and in your heart through to travel home in peace and harmony?”

“You’re a Federation officer,” Black said. “I think I can leave you to fill in any blanks. I’ve got a check to deposit and a war to win. Congratulations, Captain Tempest! And thank you on behalf of the Federation and the Alliance as a whole. Your role in this victory will not be overlooked.” He reached out to shake Connor’s hand, then strode toward the door. At the threshold, he gave a quick Federation salute, then continued on his way into the night.

Connor rose to his feet, dazed. His first thought was: I’m a captain now. His second: I’ve just signed my own death warrant.

Cheng Li shook her head with irritation. “He didn’t even stop to tell us what plans he has to find you a ship.”

Connor shrugged. Cheng Li was right, as usual, but he had other, darker thoughts to contend with. Thoughts that were too dark even to share with her.

“You see?” Lola said, settling little Hunter on her lap. “He’s fine now that he’s sitting up with us, aren’t you, darling?” She blew a little raspberry in his ear and the infant smiled in delight.

“I think he was just missing his mum,” Holly said.

“Shall we continue?” Nathalie gestured toward the cards.

“Yes,” agreed Lola. “We mustn’t leave Jack Tar hanging.” Steadying Hunter on her knee, she reached forward and turned the next card.

The three women stared at the image of a young man, or perhaps woman, attending to a weak soul in his sickbed. “The Healer,” Nathalie announced.

“So,” Lola said. “Death comes for the Healer. I wonder, who could it be?”

“Mosh Zu Kamal!” Holly exclaimed, getting into the spirit. “He’s the most prominent healer we know, isn’t he?”

Nathalie nodded. “He’s a strong contender.” She turned to Lola. “And I don’t mean to put a damper on proceedings, but wasn’t Olivier his protege?”

Lola nodded. “You make a good point,” she said. “But I think you’ve both overlooked the most obvious candidate.” She smiled before adding, “Grace Tempest.”

“Of course!” Nathalie exclaimed, her face suddenly sober. “I’m sorry, Captain. For a moment there, I forgot she’s still your stepdaughter.”

Lola shook her head. “In name only. Grace had her chance with me but she blew it. If the Mariner is coming to claim her, I’m not going to stand in his way.”

“Shall we see if Jack has anyone else in his sights?” Nathalie suggested.

Lola nodded, reaching out her hand once more. The card she turned revealed a sailor standing at the prow of a ship, looking out rather disconsolately across a vast ocean.

“The Lost Corsair,” Nathalie said. “Also known as the Lost Buccaneer.”

“Buccaneer?” Holly said. “That rings a bell!”

Lola brought her hands together. “It’s perfect! Connor Tempest and his two friends called themselves the Three Buccaneers. Do you remember, girls?”

“That’s right!” Nathalie said. “There’s Connor and his friend Bart. But he’s dead now, so it can’t be him.”

“No,” Lola agreed, thinking briefly of the moment she’d claimed Bart’s life. “The other candidate is Stukeley.”

Holly looked distraught. “Not just Stukeley! Stukeley made that speech when Bart was here. Do you remember… at Tiffin? And Lord Sidorio called Johnny the fourth buccaneer.”

“Did he?” Lola said. “I’m afraid I don’t remember.” She shrugged. “But even so, you’d have to figure that Stukeley and Connor are the more likely candidates.”

“Agreed,” Nathalie said with a nod.

“What if it’s Stukeley?” Holly said. “Poor, poor Mimma!”

“The auguries are even better than I expected,” Lola said, her voice drowning out Holly’s as she turned to Nathalie. “Victory is within our grasp and death is stalking both Grace and Connor. My dear, I simply couldn’t have wished for a better reading!”

“You have only turned six cards,” Nathalie reminded her. “You have one left to turn.”

“Of course,” Lola said, her fingers hovering above the cards once more. Her decision made, her fingers came down and flipped over the card. It was a picture of a constellation of stars, bright in the night sky. The stars had been rendered with silver leaf.

Lola gasped. “No!” she said.

“What is it?” asked Holly. “Is it a theme card?”

Nathalie shook her head gravely. “No, dear, it’s another people card. This represents Orion…”

“More commonly known,” Lola continued, her voice low, “as the Hunter.”

“So does it mean death for…” Holly’s question was left unfinished. All eyes turned to the happy infant smiling and gurgling obliviously on Lola’s knee.

“It can’t be true,” Lola said, tears welling in her eyes.

“It needn’t be,” Nathalie said. “Remember, the Hunter is also a symbolic card. It could refer to the death of any of the pirates who have been stalking us. In particular, the one who captained the first ship of Vampirate assassins.”