Read Online Blood Storm by Rhiannon Hart - Free Book Online Page A

action of late. It’s something I’d heard about, of course, but until now I’ve dismissed it as pirates, or wrecks. Some of the boats that dock here are floating deathtraps with only their barnacles holding themtogether. But this captain was telling me that good sturdy ships are disappearing and the crew never heard from again. He agreed it could be pirates after the cargo, too, but the last two ships to vanish have been empty. Pirates aren’t fools. They can tell which ships are loaded up by how low they sit in the water. These two would have been sitting very high indeed, and obviously empty, so it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Unless . . .’ He trailed off, looking between us.
    Rodden nodded. ‘Thank you, Captain. I’ll keep that in mind.’
    As we made our way down to the docks I asked, ‘Harming attacks?’
    ‘It would seem so.’
    I sighed. I had assumed we would be safe on open water, but apparently not.
    Down on the dock, it was dark among the bellies of the enormous vessels. Fat, shiny seals lay on the crossbeams beneath the boardwalk, barking at each other and slapping their sides with their flippers. Leap peered through the planks at them, his tail lashing. He didn’t seem to be disturbed by all the water – but he was a drain-cat, after all. Griffin, who couldn’t help looking fierce all the time, was glaring more than usual and digging her claws intomy gauntlet. I wondered what could have got into her until I saw her murderous looks at the seagulls screeching and wheeling overhead. Their cries were hurting her sensitive ears. The gulls followed us in a cacophonous cloud, alarmed by the bird of prey in their midst.
    The air was pungent with damp seaweed and rotting wood. I could see what Captain Helmsrid meant about floating deathtraps; we passed some very sick-looking vessels. Rodden dismissed ship after ship, some that looked quite acceptable to me, and I feared we wouldn’t find even one that met his exacting standards. But at last he called to a sailor carrying a calico bale up the loading plank of the Jessamine .
    ‘Who captains this ship?’ he asked.
    ‘Cap’n Krig,’ the sailor replied. He was heavily tanned, the skin around his eyes prematurely wrinkled by the sun. Faded blue tattoos of anchors and mermaids decorated his wiry forearms.
    ‘Where would we find him?’
    ‘O’er there, at the Krill ’n’ Mermaid.’ The sailor pointed at a lean-to on the far side of the docks. We thanked the sailor and struggled over to it, the way mostly blocked by rigging and crayfish pots.
    A white-haired man in a threadbare blazer sat blinking in the sun, a pint of ale and a bottle of darkrum at his elbow. It was barely two in the afternoon, but maybe there were such things as sea-time and land-time and it was quite acceptable for him to be drinking hard spirits at this hour. Or maybe he was a sot.
    ‘Captain Krig?’ asked Rodden.
    The man nodded.
    ‘We’re after passage to Pol. Is the Jessamine heading on there?’
    ‘Aye,’ the man said. ‘For t’bird and moggy, too?’ he asked.
    I nodded. Leap had his head inside a crayfish pot and was sniffing with interest.
    ‘We’ve already got a ship’s cat. Don’t think my Smokey’d like ’im,’ he said.
    ‘He’s very friendly,’ I insisted, as Leap tried to back out of the trap. It was rather one-way and he had his big silly ears stuck.
    ‘Oh, aye.’ The captain downed a slug of rum from a sea-green tumbler. He eyed our crossbows. ‘Can ye shoot those contraptions?’
    ‘Certainly can,’ said Rodden, bending down to extricate Leap.
    ‘Oh, aye.’ The captain took a moment to squint up at us. ‘We don’t up anchor until tomorrow evening. Goin’ with the tide. Y’in a hurry?’
    ‘Well, yes. But we can wait, for the right price.’
    The captain ‘hmphed’ at that. ‘Ten pieces each. Bird and cat free. Now, if that ain’t a bargain, I know not what is.’
    He and Rodden shook on it and we made our way back into town. A whole