chain. And a name was engraved in the metal:
BUTTERCUP.
“Someone’s pet, all right,” I said. “Or watchdog.”
“Stand aside,” Jane said, and when I did, she decapitated this one, too. “Always pay the insurance,” she said, and draped the huge bloody sword across her shoulders.
Now that the crisis was over, the cut on my shoulder suddenly announced itself, and I winced as pain ran through my whole right arm. I gingerly lifted the collar of my tunic and checked it; the stitches were intact, and it wasn’t bleeding. That was good news. It did nothing to ease the pain, of course.
Clift knelt and cut open the lizard’s belly. “Let’s see what this thing’s eaten lately,” he said, then lifted the carcass from behind. He wiggled it until its organs fell out with a splat.
“I’ve had to shake the lizard before,” Dietz said, “but never like that.”
Clift let the corpse fall to one side and used his sword to push aside coils of intestine and cut open the stomach. In addition to fur and feathers of their normal prey, there was a severed finger, a belt buckle, shreds of clothing, and a sailor’s pipe. “I think we know what destroyed those huts. And where the ones who stayed behind have ended up,” Clift said, wiping his hands on the grass.
“Except for whoever left those footprints we found,” Duncan said.
“And who wants to bet that Mr. Footprint is also the one who let Buttercup and-wow, this one’s named Pansy-off their leashes?” Dietz said.
We exchanged a look. The idea that Black Edward might have gone crazy now didn’t seem so unreasonable. If, of course, he hadn’t also become lizard food along with everyone else.
I said loudly, “We killed your lizards. You can’t possibly kill us all before we find you, so you might as well come out and talk to us.”
I was bragging about our prowess, of course, but it seemed an appropriate bluff, given what we’d just done. It didn’t impress our unseen watcher, though, because he didn’t appear.
“Well, if there are answers,” Clift said, “they’ll be at the end of the trail.” So we resumed our hike. Behind us, smaller specimens of the same lizards ambled from the forest and began fighting over the corpses.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The trail grew more treacherous as it climbed the nearest mountain’s slope. Here the greenery had gotten a better grip, and in a couple of places we had to stop and seriously look around to figure out where the path continued. Suhonen, in a giddy mood despite the slashes covering his arms and legs, whistled and cut through anything that blocked our way.
No more giant lizards attacked us, and despite our best efforts, we saw no sign that anyone secretly pursued us. It wasn’t a big island, but there were plenty of hiding places, especially for a lone man familiar with the terrain. If Black Edward had left those bare footprints, this case could turn especially ugly. The only real way to find a single person on an island like this was to use what the Pontecorvans called Kayhemadda: set fire to the greenery and let it burn the island clean. It was a literal scorched-earth policy that would be a very last resort.
The trail ended at the base of a flight of stone stairs. They weren’t ancient, but neither were they recent: lichen and moss had already encroached. They rose above us to a small plateau. The stream we’d crossed earlier tumbled down beside it, making a narrow waterfall. The spray from the pool felt wonderful.
“Who goes first?” Clift asked, wiping his face.
“I will,” I said. The idea that Black Edward Tew was up there, whether in a castle or hiding in the bushes, filled me with impatience. After all this time and distance, I could be close to getting my answers. Why had he sunk the Bloody Angel? What did he do with the treasure? And most important, my actual job: Did he even remember Angelina Dirnay?
Then I felt cold steel at the back of my neck. A voice said, “Wait just a minute.”
I turned. Dietz moved his sword’s point to the hollow of my throat, and his square face creased in concentration. “We’ve all heard about Black Edward’s treasure, Mr. Sword Jockey. Some say it’s on the bottom of the ocean; some say it’s not. And if it’s not, what better place to find it than under Black Edward’s own bony ass?”
“Dietz,” Clift said, “put the sword away now.”
“You just hold on, Captain, I’m looking out for you here, too. I think we need to make Mr. LaCrosse swear a blood oath that whatever we find, we split. Just among us, of course. The rest of the crew, well-” He smiled. “-what they don’t know won’t hurt ’em much, will it?”
I stood very still. I was too tired to be scared. Mainly I was just annoyed. I had suspected the veneer of respectability was thin on a lot of these former pirates, and here was the proof. But he was keeping me from the culmination of my search, and that was pissing me off.
“Dietz,” I said, “put the sword down like the captain said, or die. It’s that simple.”
Dietz pushed my chin up with the blade’s tip. “You think you’re fast enough to get me before I get you, old man?”
“I won’t have to do a thing. Last chance.”
His smile grew. “Not a one of your friends could get me before I get you, and I bet they’re all considering my offer just now. Besides, the blood oath I want from you requires all your blood.”
I knew from the way he’d leaped on the big lizard that he was brave and tough, but smarts hadn’t been a factor then. Now he looked suddenly surprised; his arm dropped and his sword fell to the ground. A moment later, he fell atop it. There was a gash across the back of his neck that had severed his spine, and a matching bloodstain on Clift’s ultra-sharp sword.
“Dumb bastard,” Clift said, and used Dietz’s tunic to clean his blade.
Jane said in annoyance, “Well, I was going to do that, show- off.”
“Sometime today?” Clift deadpanned. “Or when your calendar cleared?”
Jane laughed. I said to Clift, “Sharpen that thing every night, huh?”
“Every night,” he assured me. “He’s not the first one to turn his back on his pardon.”
“Will you get in trouble for doing that?” I asked.
“We have a standing policy for recidivism. You just saw it.”
“Of course. My mistake to doubt you.”
I suddenly felt very tired. Dietz’s eyes were still open in surprise, and his sword lay beside him. I should’ve tried to reason with him and get him back on our side, even if it required trickery. Instead, I’d stood by while he’d been killed, knowing it was going to happen, because I just couldn’t muster the energy to care. Whether he deserved it or not was immaterial. I wasn’t worried about his soul; I was worried about mine. I’d have to be more on guard against that kind of complacency.
I looked at the steps again. “I’ll go up and see what’s there.”
“We’ll be waiting,” Clift assured me.
“Be careful,” Jane said.
I asked, “Are you worried about me?”
She grinned. “About my money.”
The climb was a bastard. The stairs were so steep that I had to use my hands as well, crawling up like a jungle bug. Tactically they were brilliant: no one could mount them with a weapon in hand, and by the time you got to the top, you were too winded to be much of a threat.
About halfway up, I had to stop and wait for a snake to finish crawling across one step. It was as big around as my arm, and in no hurry. I glanced down at the others, which was a mistake. The stairs were so close to vertical that my head began to spin, and it wasn’t hard to imagine toppling down them to my death. At last the snake’s tail appeared, and in moments it was gone into the weeds.
When I finally reached the top, I knelt on the last step and rested my upper body on the plateau’s ground, waiting to catch my breath before taking a detailed look around. My shoulder throbbed something fierce, but I didn’t have the heart to see if that was sweat I felt or blood. I momentarily closed my eyes, and when I opened them, an enormous hair-covered spider bigger than my hand sat looking at me, its dozens of eyes gleaming in the sun.
