Alex Bledsoe - Wake of the Bloody Angel

At the moment of contact, she drew a knife from her belt and spun at me. I reacted reflexively, blocked her thrust with my forearm, and hit the point of her chin with the heel of my other hand. Her head snapped back and she dropped to the ground. The sound of her skull hitting the rocky floor rang like a lone drumbeat.

The whole altercation happened so quickly that it was over before I really comprehended it. She sprawled on the rocky cave floor as if she’d fallen from the sky. “Shit,” I whispered to myself. I seriously worried that I might have killed her.

I picked up the knife and waited for the shakes to stop and my breathing to return to normal. When my fingers were steady, I checked her neck for a pulse. It was there, and she moaned when I pulled my hand away.

I carried her to the wall and propped her against it. There was nothing to cover her with, but the tropical breeze wasn’t exactly chilling. I tore a strip from my tunic and risked dipping it in the water, but again, there was no sign of the beast. I returned and wiped her face until, at last, her eyes opened and focused on me.

“You didn’t kill me,” she said.

“Hell, I didn’t even mean to hit you. It was a reflex.”

She looked down at herself. “I’ve still got my clothes on.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

She smiled wryly, without humor. “You’ve never been a woman captured by pirates. Even old pirates.” She gently felt the back of her head. When she pulled her fingers away, there was no blood. “There’s a lump, but it doesn’t seem to be serious. What’s your name?”

“Eddie.”

She laughed, again without any humor. “No.”

“Yeah. Eddie LaCrosse.”

“Another one. Two Eddies. Well, he’s an Edward. Was an Edward.” She paused, took a moment to compose herself, and said, “Is he really dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see? I need to see it for myself.”

“Sure, if it won’t wake up Grabby.” I nodded at the pool.

“Cherish,” she corrected.

“Cherish? That thing’s name is Cherish?”

“Everything needs a name. Wendell picked it; he said she was an old girlfriend who went crazy on him.”

“Wendell Marteen?”

“Yeah.”

I wanted to ask her more questions, but the desperate need in her eyes was hard to ignore. I helped her to her feet, led her around the wall, and showed her the corpse of Black Edward Tew.

After giving her a few moments to take it in, I asked quietly, “How did he end up in there?”

She kept her eyes on the body. “A comedy of errors. He dropped the key to the treasure chamber out here and didn’t realize it until the door slammed shut behind him.”

“So where were you when that happened?”

She smiled, again with no warmth. “Right here. He took me everywhere, and I mean that literally. One of his favorite places was bent over his precious treasure. This time, though, he told me to wait outside while he filled the box. His last and best mistake.”

She knelt and reached through the bars toward his nearest hand, too far away to touch. “You have no idea what that man did to me. You can’t imagine. And all I wanted in revenge was to see him die. And I missed it.”

“Where were you?”

“Where do you think? Following you. Didn’t you see my footprint in the mud? I didn’t have time to go back and cover it up.”

“Did you sic the lizards on us, then?”

“No, they don’t need me to help them find meat.”

I looked at the way the door was constructed. There would be no removing it easily, and picking the lock would take time. “So the door just happened to close when you were out here and he was in there?”

“Think whatever you want,” she said wearily. “I threw the key into the pool when I realized he was locked in. It was the only one; no copies. There’s no fishing it out, and there’s no way to break into the cave without stirring up Cherish, and she’s so big and pulpy, weapons don’t hurt her. Which means you’ve wasted your trip.”

“I’m not interested in the treasure.”

She laughed. It came out as a sharp little snort.

“I’m serious,” I insisted. “Why does nobody believe that?”

“Are you a monk?” she taunted.

“No, I’m a sword jockey. I was hired to find Black Edward Tew, nothing more.”

She looked up. “Then… did my husband send you? To find me and bring me back?”

“No,” I said. “But I will take you back, if you want.”

She just stared at me. I couldn’t imagine the feelings going through her, so I just waited. At last, she said, “You really are just looking for Edward? Not the treasure?”

“Yes. Someone wanted to know what happened to him.” Now I laughed without any amusement. “You reminded me of her, actually. That’s why you startled me so much.”

“The other Angelina?”

I nodded.

“So I do look a lot like her.”

“A lot,” I agreed.

She gazed down at Edward’s haggard face, now gray with death. His wet hair lay plastered across his cheeks and forehead. “Edward kidnapped me from Kontis, where I worked in my husband’s tavern. He said I reminded him of someone, and I guess it was this Angelina woman. He brought me here… my God, fifteen years ago. My husband barely knew I was around when I was underfoot all the time; wonder how long it took him to notice I was gone?” She paused. “Of course, that was before Edward went crazy.”

“Crazy how?”

“You know how every ship has a bell with its name on it? He took the bell from his ship before he sank it. He used to say he could hear it ringing still, even when it sat there on his desk, collecting dust. Finally, he gave it to one of the old men in town.”

“The ones you released the lizards to get?”

“They got what they deserved. And if the lizards kill some of Wendell’s crew when they get back, that’s even fewer people around to hurt me.”

“So who were the people that lived here? Not Tew’s original crew.”

She snorted. “No, they’re dead. You know, even after he gave away the bell, Edward swore he could see their ghosts accusing him of treachery and murder. He painted that mural to try to quiet them, to give them a memorial. But they only lived here,” she said, tapping her temple.

She shook her head back to the moment. “The ones in the huts were people Wendell accumulated whenever he left the island. For years it was just me, Edward, and Wendell. Then when Wendell would leave, he’d bring someone back. They were harmless, or so I thought; just bums too lazy or old or injured to make a living at sea, and wanting nothing more than a beach to lie on and enough rum to make them forget. They were afraid of Edward, so they mostly left us alone. But Wendell gathered enough of them that he finally made a crew after Edward’s accident. If you stay long enough, you’ll get to meet them. They should be back soon.”

“Wendell’s crew isn’t coming back.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What happened?”

“The ship in the harbor is a pirate hunter I hired to help me find Edward Tew. We captured the Bloody Angel and sent the survivors back to Blefuscola to hang. Wendell’s dead.”

Now her lips twisted in a little smile, one very Angelina-like. “You expect me to believe you got away from his trap?”

“Sank it right on top of the monster.”

“Without poxbinder?”

Many things clicked into place in my head. “Is that what was in those jugs you used?”

“Mostly water. Just a tiny bit of poxbinder.”

That explained the cache on the Bloody Angel. Marteen wanted enough poxbinder to tranquilize or kill Cherish so he had time to break through the bars and get to the treasure. “So how did Marteen get the other monster to cooperate? Did he drug it, too?”