Chris Wooding - The Black Lung Captain

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. 'We both know you won't kill me. There's no point to it. The sphere is gone. You've already been paid for its delivery, I assume. So where's the profit?' He raised an eyebrow. 'Besides, you'd miss me.'

Trinica laughed, and it was genuine this time. Frey knew the difference. This one made him feel warm. 'You're remarkably sure of yourself these days,' she said. 'And what about my men who were killed? The damage you've done?'

'It's all in the game, Trinica,' he said. 'You don't get to be a terror of the skies without taking a few knocks. You know that; don't pretend you don't. Besides, it was mostly Grist, if you think about it.'

'No doubt you had a hand in it.'

'No doubt I did. Tell you what: forget killing me for a minute. I've a proposition.'

Trinica raised an eyebrow. 'A proposition? And such a strong bargaining position you have. I can hardly wait.'

Frey took a mental deep breath. It was a proposition, alright. A plan that Frey had formulated during those few hours he'd spent in the Delirium Trigger's brig. Usually, he'd discuss his ideas with his crew, but this one he kept to himself. He knew what they'd say. He could see a hundred ways in which it was a bad idea. And yet, he'd been itching to tell Trinica ever since he'd walked into her cabin. It had taken an effort to stop himself blurting it out the moment he sat down.

She's a snake, Darian. Just remember that. It doesn't matter what you once had. The way she was at Kurg, that shows how much she thinks of you. She'll turn on you if you let her.

'The way I see it, we have no reason to fight. But we do have a common enemy. And he has something we both want.'

Lightning flashed and slow thunder rolled outside. Trinica leaned forward over her desk. She made a cradle with her knitted fingers and rested her chin in it. 'Darian,' she said, amused. 'You're surely not suggesting we join forces? After all we've done to each other?'

'You and me,' said Frey. 'We'll find Grist and get that sphere back.'

'And why would I want to do that, if I've already been paid for retrieving it?'

'Because you're the dreaded pirate Trinica Dracken, and Grist just gave you a lashing like you haven't had in years. Your crew will talk. The moment this craft gets into dock, everyone's going to know how the Storm Dog beat you.'

The slightest flicker of anger passed over Trinica's face.

Gotcha , he thought.

'I make it a month at least before the Delirium Trigger's up and ready for a fight again, even at the best workshops in the land,' Frey said. 'Grist's trail will be cold by then. But the Ketty Jay can be running in a matter of hours. Soon as we get some new windglass for the cupola and Silo gets his hands on that bloody engine.' He paused for a moment to let that sink in. 'The Ketty Jay can't take on the Storm Dog. But the Delirium Trigger can. And with me on your side, next time it'll be you who has the element of surprise.'

She watched him carefully, sizing him up. Her contact lenses made her irises black, turning her pupils huge. An illusion calculated to intimidate and unsettle. But Frey knew what colour her eyes were, underneath.

'You'll never find him without me,' he said. 'And I'll never beat him without you. I know the man and you don't. I need your contacts, you need my aircraft. If we pool our resources, if we get going right away . . . well, we might just catch that son of a bitch.'

Trinica unfolded, lounging back into her chair, spreading across it.

Her mannerisms were different to the girl Frey remembered. Odder. Her moods slipped from playful to maudlin to angry. One minute she was mumming horror, the next she was genuinely wrathful. A powerful leader, a cruel killer, then a child. Fractured states of mind, reflections in a broken mirror.

He knew that something must have cracked inside her at some point. Had it been when he jilted her on their wedding day? After her failed suicide attempt? After she lost their baby? Or in the years of horror that followed, as a brutalised concubine on board various pirate craft? No way of knowing. But he'd set her on that road. It hurt him to think of it.

'You're suggesting that I travel with you on the Ketty Jay ?' asked Trinica.

'Just until the Delirium Trigger is fixed.'

'Darian, do you really think you're being wise?'

'When have I ever been wise?'

It was true that he had his doubts about whether they could stand each other for several weeks, but he was certain of one thing. He needed her. Whatever his feelings, or hers, this was too important.

Thousands will die.

'Do you know what that sphere does?' he asked.

'No,' she said. 'If anyone does, it would be a high-ranking Awakener. But thanks to your elegant work in bringing their aircraft down, all the high-ranking Awakeners on the All Our Yesterdays are dead.'

'One of them wasn't,' said Frey. 'He told me something. "Thousands will die," he said. I'm not certain what that sphere is, but it came from a Mane dreadnought, so I'm pretty sure it's gonna end up being bad news. I'm also sure that Grist knows exactly what it is, and he's planning to use it, or to sell it to someone who will.'

'You think it's a weapon?'

'Maybe.'

'And you intend to prevent him using it.'

'Yes!'

Trinica got out of her seat and stretched. 'There I was thinking you wanted to sell it and make a fortune. How civic-minded you've become.'

'This isn't the time for your bloody sarcasm!' Frey snapped. 'That bastard made mugs of us both, and I owe him for that. But if he unleashes whatever power is in that sphere, if it does what I think it might . . . Well, I played my part in making that happen. So I'll play my part in stopping it."

Trinica looked surprised. Then her expression softened, and just for an instant, he recognised the face of the woman he'd known.

'You're right, Darian,' she said. She lowered her gaze. 'It seems I really don't know you half as well as I thought.'

Frey was wrong-footed by the sudden capitulation in her voice. He wasn't used to submissiveness from her. But the moment passed, and when she spoke again she was crisp and sharp.

'Alright,' she said. 'Your aerium engines still work, I noticed. Float your craft and we'll tow you to dock. I'll leave my bosun in charge of the repairs to the Delirium Trigger and come with you. We have an understanding?'

'We do,' said Frey. He got to his feet and held out his hand. She came out from behind her desk and took it. Her grip was cool.

'This is an alliance of necessity,' she said firmly. 'Nothing more. When this is over, we are enemies again.'

'Best of enemies,' Frey said with a grin.

A wry smile touched the corner of her painted lips. 'Best of enemies,' she agreed.

When Jez came back to consciousness, she found herself in the Ketty Jay's tiny infirmary, lying on the surgical table. She recognised the grubby ceiling and the smell of rum in the air. Malvery was there, standing next to her. Silo sat in the corner.

She was still wearing her jumpsuit. Malvery hadn't attempted to treat her. There was nothing he could do to help. They'd simply put her here and waited to see what happened.

The doctor peered at her over his green-lensed glasses. 'You alright?'

She gave a small nod and stayed where she was, staring at the ceiling.

'Hmm,' said Malvery. He made a show of looking about for something, then patted her awkwardly on the arm and left.

He's scared of me now. And so he should be.

Jez listened to the room, and to Silo's breathing. The Ketty Jay was airborne, but the engines were quiet. They were being towed, then.