CHAPTER 9
They had one last night in the house. Idira spent the evening gathering up the few possessions they still had left and bringing them into VanCleef's room for packing into leather satchels. As she set down the last of her books onto the scuffed parquet floor, she noticed Myra hadn't done any packing during the time she had been away.
Her sister wandered around the room, aimless, lifting things up and putting them back down, unable to bring herself to pack anything. Myra hadn't said a word since she had gone back up to her room, but now, as darkness set in and the room darkened with shadows, held back by the faint light of a single candle, she began to plead with VanCleef to allow her to stay until the attack against Stormwind was over.
VanCleef shook his head and said it wasn't safe in Moonbrook anymore, explaining Jac's men now possessed more than half of Westfall. Ten days ago, Kip had told him he no longer had enough men to keep Jac's growing army of criminals and thugs out of Moonbrook. Within a fortnight, he predicted the town would be Jac's. When Myra asked why VanCleef couldn't leave more men at the house, VanCleef crossed his arms and said he needed his men in the mines working on the final stages of ship's outfitting, not fighting a losing battle against Jac. Besides, he said, once he had taught Stormwind his lesson, they really would have no reason to return to Westfall, with a ship like The Night's Cutlass, they could go wherever they pleased, could even cross the Great Sea and visit Kalimdor. Myra turned away, but not before Idira caught the glint of tears in her sister's eyes. She knew what her sister was thinking. If they went across the sea, Myra would never see Benny again.
"I have been working night and day to have everything ready in time," VanCleef said, watching Myra as she went into the closet and brought out her only other dress and lay it on the bed. She stared at it, forlorn. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and rubbed them hard before looking up at her again. He looked like he could fall asleep standing up. He leaned against the fireplace pillar. "I haven't slept for more than three hours in the last two days trying to finish everything for you," his gaze flicked over Vanessa, curled up asleep on the bed, before he continued in a low voice. "I have done all this so you and the girls would not have to suffer, as I have had to do, washing in cold water and sleeping in rough berths. Can you not see I have done all this for you, my love? To protect you, and keep you safe?"
Myra sank down on the bed and let out a low cry, hollow and hopeless. Idira set aside her book, their conversation too distracting for her to be able to focus on making the agonising choices of deciding which books to keep and which to leave behind.
"If you take me in there, I will die," Myra shuddered. She looked up at him, her face filled with anguish. Her eyes moved from his down to one of the daggers hanging from the belt on his hips. "I cannot live in the dark," she whispered. "I can't. I won't. I will kill myself first."
VanCleef pushed away from the fireplace and went to the bed. He stood over Myra, a spark of anger flaring in his worn features. "Do you have any idea what Jac has become?" he asked, harsh, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "The women his men have captured are slaves, chained to stakes like animals, forced to work in the camp by day, and raped every night. I have no reason to believe your fate would be any better. Jac has proven over and over how little he cares for his own flesh and blood. Do not make me force you in this matter, because if I must, I will."
At his words Myra sagged and folded into herself. She wept anew, defeated, her hands pressed to her face, her thin shoulders shaking, but she didn't argue anymore. VanCleef sat down beside her and took her into his arms, hushing her and rocking her, trying to console her. After a little while, Myra pulled away from him and lay down, putting her back to him, her face streaked with tears. She closed her eyes.
Idira got up and lifted a cover over her sister. In the light of the flickering candle, Myra looked terrible, her face gaunt and exhausted, dark smudges surrounded her eyes. Only a shadow of her beauty still tinged her features. She reminded Idira of how she had looked that one winter on the farm when they were at their hungriest, on the brink of starvation, long before all of this began. It was like they were going back to the beginning again. Everyone hungry, everything hopeless.
VanCleef stood up and watched Myra as she drifted into sleep, his hands on his hips, his expression filled with extreme tenderness. Idira realised VanCleef probably loved Myra as much as Benny did, but in a completely different way, not for the person she was like Benny did, but as an ideal of who he believed she was, that only he could reach.
Idira went back to her little pile of books, all she had managed to keep back from that hideous goblin during his final foray. She had been told she could only bring three books with her, the other eight would have to be left behind, but VanCleef had promised he would hide them in the cellar's secret room, where they would be safe until they could be collected again one day, after he defeated Stormwind. She had nodded, obedient, her eyes catching Unambi's who shook his head and looked away, sharing her misgivings. They both knew they wouldn't be coming back. She sighed and sorted through her books again, deliberating which of her friends she would have to abandon to their awful fate, left in the cellar to rot.
The next day they left, carrying the last of their worldly goods on their backs. Cook stood at the door and waved a tearful goodbye. Despite VanCleef's warnings, she insisted she was too old to be going on such an adventure and besides someone needed to stay and look after the house until VanCleef came back.
Despite knowing it was cruel to put a cat on a boat in a cave, Idira couldn't bring herself to leave Blackie behind for Papa's men to find, so she placed her cat into a basket and closed the lid. Then, just like she had done seven long years ago, she picked up her companion and left her home, following the others across the square as they began the long walk through the deserted town towards the desiccated plain separating the town from the sea, and on to the cliff road that led down to the docks and their new life.
She turned around just before they left the square to look one last time at the big house. She gazed at the window to her room and imagined seeing herself looking out that window, never allowed out to play with the other children, a prisoner in a gilded cage. Over the years, she had had some happy moments, but everything about living with VanCleef had been overshadowed by strife and fear. She realised despite his once great wealth and power she hadn't really been happy there, and a part of her was glad to be leaving, to be moving closer to the day when she would stand on that balcony in the floating city with the hero called Khadgar.
"Bye house," she whispered. Somehow it felt right to say it, within those walls, she had been educated and trained to have manners fit for a palace, things she would never have experienced even in the best of all other outcomes. Perhaps that house was important for her preparation for her future, for that day when she would meet the hero Khadgar. Perhaps everything had a meaning, even though at the time it felt like nothing made any sense at all. She sighed, her heart heavy. Or perhaps there was no meaning to anything, and her dream of a floating city had only been just that, a dream, as fanciful as her fairytales. She had never dreamed of Khadgar again, though every night she wished she would.
She turned to find Unambi waiting for her, his expression filled with sadness. He shifted the heavy bags he carried so he could hold out his hand to her. She took it and together they left, neither of them speaking, even Blackie lay quiet in her basket, subdued by the oppressive silence of a town left with nothing but the memories of the laughter and voices of the townsfolk, long gone, sighing in the wind.
They arrived at the docks after four hours of walking, it had been a broiling hot afternoon and sweat trickled down Idira's back, coating her torso and making the material of her dress stick to her skin in a most unpleasant way.
She had longed to shed the thing and walk in her underwear and camisole, but she knew she was too old for that now she had started to become a woman. She glanced at Vanessa with envy for the hundredth time, at least she was allowed to run along in her bare feet and underwear, free of the constraints of a laced-up dress. Idira's feet hurt too. She was sure a blister had begun to form on the top her of big toe.
They reached the edge of the cliffs and took the long, zig-zagging road down to the shore. Apart from a solitary rowboat tied to one of the dock's iron cleats, the dockyard lay completely deserted, just like the town. VanCleef led them to the boat and helped Myra into it. She sank, trembling with fatigue down onto the bench, pale as a sheet despite the blazing warmth of the sun.
"There's food on the ship, my love," VanCleef murmured as he hefted the bags he had been carrying for her into the boat. "Just hold on a little longer. I promise you will be well taken care of from now on."
Myra didn't respond, she just sat and stared out at the ocean, her expression blank, seeing nothing. VanCleef lifted Vanessa into the boat. Oblivious to the state of her mother, Vanessa chattered excitedly, peppering her father with questions about what was going to happen next and why couldn't she see the boat yet. He answered her questions as he loaded the rest of the bags, helped by Unambi. We're going to go through those huge gates there against the cliff walls. You can't see the boat because it's inside the mountain.
"In there!?" Vanessa squealed, laughing. "Nobody puts a boat inside a mountain!"
"Nobody sane," Myra said in a voice colder than ice, the last sparks of her spirit igniting as she turned to look at the oppressive gates, taller even than the big house's four stories and wider than one whole side of Moonbrook's square.
VanCleef said nothing, though his jaw tightened and his back stiffened a little. The air grew thick with unsaid words. Idira sensed there would be a fight tonight, the first of many. Even Vanessa quieted, sensing the tension between her parents.
Idira shifted her weight, trying to ease the pressure on her blistered toe. She longed to take her shoes and stockings off and lower her feet into the cool, salty waters of the sea. It had been so long since she had been by the sea, she wished they could dally just for a while, but she sensed VanCleef was in a hurry. He kept looking over his shoulder as he hauled the bags into the boat, his gaze straying back up to the top of the cliff, as though he feared someone had followed them.
A warm gust of wind blew in over the sea, carrying the metallic, pungent scent of rich seaweed and reminding Idira of the warm, salty smell of the seashell that her murloc friend had once left for her. The breeze washed over them, much richer than any she ever remembered coming from the cold, dark briny sea by the farm, far to the north.
Unambi stood up, pausing in his work. "Dat be da smell o' da warm waters o' home," he said, inhaling, deep. "Ah it be good ta be tastin' dat sweet scent again."
VanCleef threw the last of the bags into the boat and turned to Idira.
"Let's go," he said, sharp, waggling his hand at her, impatient.
She limped over to him and let him hand her into the boat, holding out her hands to take Blackie's basket from Unambi. Blackie peered out between the basket's weave, panting with fear, her eyes wide. Unambi came next and sat beside Idira, murmuring to Blackie about all the nice rats she would find on a pirate ship.
Myra blanched and pressed her hand to her mouth, her fingers shaking. VanCleef ignored her, his gaze once more straying to the top of the cliffs as he cast off. He pushed the boat out and jumped into it, light, the months he'd spent on the water obvious from his agility as he moved over the bags to the bench in the middle. He picked up the paddles and began rowing with strong, swift strokes. As they neared the solid wall of wood, buttressed by metal studs, he pulled up the paddles and reached down into his shirt, lifting a slim metal whistle attached to a leather cord around his neck. He blew on the whistle three times; short, quick bursts. He waited to the count of ten, then did it again.
They drifted for several minutes, the water slapping against the sides of the boat, soft. No one said anything. A deep groan came from within the gate's structure. The doors creaked and split in the middle, opening outwards, sending a wake of water rushing towards them. The sound of a winch being cranked drifted out from within the cavern accompanied by faint shouts, Heave! Ho! Heave! Ho!, each shout matching the crunch of the winch's spikes connecting with the gate's chain. The doors groaned, opening little by little, their massive weight pushing the water out in billowing waves. Their rowboat bobbed up and down, caught in the peaks and troughs of the moving water, at times tilting precariously. Idira felt Unambi's arm come round her shoulder, holding her steady. Several more minutes passed before an opening stood wide enough for their little craft to pass through. VanCleef blew on his whistle again, three long blasts. The men inside stopped shouting, and the winch fell silent. Without saying a word, VanCleef picked up the oars once more and rowed them toward the gate's great, dark maw.
Idira turned to look up at the vanishing sky as the looming gates and the claustrophobic darkness lured their little boat into its jaws. Panic closed in on her. She couldn't do it, for one wild moment, she thought about jumping off the boat and swimming to the shore. She could run away to Stormwind and stay with Nin until this was over. She felt Unambi's hand tighten on her shoulder. He shook his head and mimed for her to take a deep breath. She realised she was panting, just like Blackie. She kept her eyes on Unambi as they went through the gates, taking deep breaths with him, her heart pounding. Blackie began to wail, terrified, scratching at her basket, desperate to escape.
Darkness surrounded them. They slid through the black waters of a vast cavern, into the bowels of a mountain, the cavern's roof lost to the deep shadows. Ahead, within a little pool of light, lit by blazing torches, an enormous ship rode at anchor near a shelf of rock that led into a tunnel, also barred by a gate. Scaffolding and walkways built up against the ship's side connected the boat to the tunnel.
The men were shouting Heave! Ho! again, working the massive winch. The doors began to close. Idira half-turned on her seat, keeping her eyes on the blue strip of sky, on the vanishing light of the day, as it thinned into a beam, then a sliver, then a crack, then disappeared, swallowed up by the darkness. The doors came to with a dull boom that echoed through the cavern. It felt like being buried alive. Silence fell.
Myra screamed, clawing at her clothes, tearing at them, making the boat rock. Vanessa began to cry.
"Daddy!" she called out, terrified, between her mother's shrieks, "I don't like it here. Mommy doesn't like it either. I want to go home. Please take us home."
VanCleef said nothing, neither did he turn to look at them, he just kept rowing slow and steady, determined, his eyes as hard as iron as he brought the boat into the ship's dock. Idira shrank against Unambi, understanding. This was what VanCleef had always truly desired, to possess them and decide their fates, controlling their lives just like the dolls Idira used to play with in her dollhouse. She caught his brief smile as they bumped against the dock, his sigh of relief.
He jumped out of the boat and yanked Myra, wailing and quaking onto the dock. He slapped her hard across the face, twice. When she didn't stop panicking, he shook her so violently Unambi jumped out and took hold of VanCleef, stopping him. VanCleef cursed and let her go, stalking away to the other side of the dock, muttering about them being ingrates.
One of VanCleef's men came forward and offered him a silver flask, VanCleef took it and drank deep, his hands shaking. A little spilled out the corner ofhis mouth. He wiped the back of his hand across it as he stared at Myra, weeping in a crumpled heap on the dock, his eyes cold. He finished the flask and came back, his mood changing, suddenly filled with remorse.
He took Myra into his arms and kissed her, reassuring her how wonderful the ship was inside, if only she would come with him and see. He helped her to her feet, supporting her against him as he made his way up the scaffolding, murmuring over and over that they were safe now and could finally be a family again.
Even if VanCleef hadn't lied when he'd said he had made a home for them with every comfort, Idira longed to leave—even being back at the farm, cold and half-starved would be better than this. With Vanessa's hand in hers, she followed VanCleef from the little dock at the ship's base up the ramps of scaffolding to the ship's top deck. Beyond the blazing light of the torches, a wall of darkness pressed down on them, threatening to consume them. From out of nowhere Idira recalled a childhood fairytale of a ship swallowed by an enormous whale, the inside of the cavern seemed no different to her than the whale's belly as it had been described in her book. She shuddered.
The hatch in the top deck leading down to their quarters stood within a cabin, VanCleef's office. She clambered down the ladder after Vanessa to discover five rooms: a washroom with a privy closet and a bath, complete with plumbing, two bedrooms, one for VanCleef and Myra and one for Vanessa and Idira, a study for VanCleef and a sitting room which also held a dining table. Their quarters lay tucked at the rear of the ship, its total space adding up to no more than the size of VanCleef's bedroom in the big house. Unambi soon learned he was far too big to fit through the narrow hatch to their quarters and was forced to retreat to the top deck. One of the crewmen was sent to hang a hammock for him, Idira overheard that Unambi had moved it afterwards, into VanCleef's office so it was by the ladder leading to their quarters.
VanCleef walked them from room to room, showing them all the little things he had done to modify the ship for their stay, completely oblivious to their distress as he moved through the rooms, behaving like an excited schoolboy showing off a pet project.
He finished his tour and brought them to the dining table, making everyone sit on the chairs bolted to the floor. Food and wine arrived on a large tray, carried by a middle-aged shaven-headed pirate with a patch over his eye. Idira gaped at the long white scar which stretched from his patch up to his scalp and all the way down to his upper lip. He caught her looking and smiled at her, making the scar move across his face in a disconcerting way. Idira lowered her gaze back down to her plate, her cheeks burning, embarrassed to have been caught staring.
He carried on with his work, setting out bowls of thick potato soup and a platter of fresh baked rolls with a flourish. He then placed a linen napkin over his arm and served the wine with as much care as a refined butler. The meal wasn't fancy but it was hot and there was more than enough for everyone, even Myra ate a little.
VanCleef continued to talk throughout the meal, filling them in on his project and all he had accomplished over the last months. Idira looked at the others, eating in subdued silence, no one looking at him, or answering him, for the time being hunger overcoming even the terror of the oppressive darkness which clawed, incessant, at the windows and doorways.
The meal finished, VanCleef stood up and told them he had work to do and not to wait up for him. He bent to kiss Myra. She flinched and pulled away from him. He drew back, looking genuinely puzzled. He regarded her for a moment then shook his head and went up the ladder. Idira heard him calling to the workers, asking how the positioning for the third cannon had gone in his absence. As his booted footsteps retreated, Idira heard him whistle a jaunty tune. She glanced at Myra, several buttons on her bodice had come free when she had panicked on the boat, leaving the neck hanging open a little more than it should. It would need mending, and soon.
Idira stood up. She had to do something, anything, sitting here would make her lose her mind. She decided to go through their bags, left in a heap in the middle of the sitting room. She called Vanessa over to help her. She would start with Vanessa's things first, and put them out for her in their room.
It took the rest of the evening to unpack their belongings and stow them into the little cubbyholes hidden in their cabins. Vanessa and Idira each had a berth tucked up against a wall with a little cupboard standing between them, which they used to store their meagre amount of clothing and what few possessions they still had. Myra and VanCleef's room had a large double bed in it, a feather mattress tucked inside a wooden frame bolted to the floor. Idira had to admit, VanCleef had tried very hard to make their quarters comfortable. Soft blankets and cushions covered every hard surface, and candles burned everywhere in golden candelabra, once more surrounding them in the warm glow of gold.
In the sitting room, adjacent to the dining table, five diamond pane leaded windows reflected the candlelight back into the room. Idira went and unlocked the latch of the middle one. It lifted up. She looked down. Far below, the waters of the cavern lapped against the ship, murky and dark. Something moved, sinuous and heavy in the water, sliding in the darkness. The hairs lifting on the back of her neck, she closed the window again and locked the latch, her imagination offering unpleasant images of what sort of creatures lurked at the bottom of those bleak waters.
Idira decided to keep Blackie in her room until she got used to the ship's smells and sounds. For the time being at least, the cat seemed quite content to remain on Idira's bed, eating from a dish filled with morsels sent up from the galley. There would be enough time for her to explore and catch rats later.
For the next two months, Myra did nothing apart from sit on the cushioned settee and stare into thin air. Idira took care of Vanessa, washing her, playing with her and reading to her. One evening after putting her niece to bed, she brought her sister some wine. Myra took it and drank deep. She settled the cup into her lap and gazed at the windows.
"He's going to come for me," she whispered. "He won't leave me here, he can't, not knowing what he knows."
"Shh! Be careful what you say," Idira hissed, looking over her shoulder, in case anyone had overheard. Myra ignored her. Idira waved her hand in front of her sister's face, she didn't respond.
"Myra you have to pull yourself together. Vanessa needs you," Idira reminded her. "I'm not enough. She needs her mother, she's afraid of the dark."
Myra looked up. "Vanessa?" she scoffed. "That is not my child. She belongs to him. The only one that needs me is the babe growing inside me." Her hand moved to cradle her abdomen, caressing it.
Idira stared at her sister. "You're pregnant?" she mouthed, terrified to say the word out loud. "Does you-know-who know?"
Myra nodded and met Idira's eyes, her sister's face becoming flushed from the wine. "As soon as he can get enough men together," she whispered, a little too loud for Idira's comfort, "he will come and kill VanCleef, and then we will move to our farm in Elwynn Forest. He promised."
Idira sank back onto her haunches, her sister must be referring to something Benny had said while they were still living in the house. If Benny were to try something so foolish in here, he would never get out alive. She didn't even know how he could get in alive. She nodded at Myra and patted her sister's hand. "I'm sure you will, but until then, promise me you will never speak of this again." An idea struck her, she took a chance. "He told me to tell you that."
Myra's eyes widened, like a child's. "Oh! You've had a message from him?"
Idira blinked, her heart aching. If her sister believed that, she was already far gone. "Yes, just this morning. He said you were to promise me," she repeated, using the kind of voice one uses to speak to the insane.
"I promise, now all I have to do is wait. I am sure he won't be long." She went to the window and unlatched it. She lifted it up, hooked it open and leaned out the window. She turned her head and lifted her face, as though warming it against an imaginary sun. "The breeze is lovely," she murmured.
Idira backed away, horror clutching at her. How long would Myra be able to hide the evidence of her affair with Benny from VanCleef? How long would she remember not to say what she was thinking? VanCleef left them alone almost all the time, but still, she could say something in her sleep, or at dinner, an offhand remark. Eventually, with enough time, she would show. Perhaps they could convince VanCleef the baby was his, she knew VanCleef had taken Myra often enough, she'd heard his moans in the night, even with the pillow over her ears, though she had never heard Myra. Idira pressed her hands to her face, hopelessness overwhelming her. She was only twelve, well, almost twelve-and-a-half, but still, what did she know about things like this? She needed Lanira. Her minder would know what to do, how to manage Myra. Idira glanced at the hatch, it was open. She could hear Unambi singing a song to himself, low, it sounded sad.
Even though she hated being on the top deck of the ship where she couldn't escape the feeling of the mountain's weight crushing down upon her, she clambered up the ladder. She needed to hear Unambi's rich voice telling her everything was going to be all right, even if it was a lie. Please, she prayed as she scrambled up the ladder, anything, just as long as it gave her something to hang on to, to bolster her own fraying grip on whether she was even real anymore, locked in this world of black; just to be reassured that her worst fear wasn't being realised, and she had become trapped in a nightmare from which she would never wake up.
The dark days and nights passed endlessly, one blending into the other, a relentless world of black enclosing them in its womb. The only way to tell the difference between day and night was by sound. At night, all was quiet aboard the ship. During the day, bellows and shouts ricocheted within the cavern's walls, accompanied by the clang of metal and the thud of sledgehammers as the crew and VanCleef's men worked to finish the last adjustments to the ships weaponry.
Myra remained in the sitting room, sleeping, drinking wine and drifting back and forth from the open window, keeping her vigil. She spoke softly to herself now and again, nonsense words that had no meaning to anyone but her. Idira ate her evening meals with VanCleef in a constant state of dread, encouraging Vanessa to talk so Myra might not speak out and say something which would damn them all.
One evening over dinner, Vanessa was telling her father about a story Idira had read to her about a man who had caught a golden fish and was granted three wishes only to lose everything in the end and have less than what he had started out with when Myra dropped her cutlery onto her plate and screamed, crying out in agony. She slid from her chair onto the floor, doubled over, clutching at her torso.
"The baby!" she panted, scrabbling at the material between her legs, pushing her fists into her crotch as though she could force it stay inside her. "Save my baby!"
A dark stain blossomed out through the material of her gown, spreading fast. Blood. Idira licked her lips, fighting her rising panic. It was all over now. VanCleef would kill them both.
VanCleef bolted over to Myra and collected her up, shouting for the ship's doctor as he carried her into their room. Not knowing what else to do, Idira followed after them, watching as VanCleef pulled her gown up, the blood soaking through her loose undergarments, spilling out onto the blankets. VanCleef held her, and reassured her, saying he didn't know they were going to have another baby and why didn't she tell him, going on about how much he loved her and how everything would be all right. Myra screamed and began to strain, pushing herself up so her back pressed against the wall. She grabbed hold of VanCleef's forearm and bore down, her feet braced against the sides of the bed frame.
"No!" she screamed, even as her body forced her to deliver, giving birth to her unformed child. "NO!" she sobbed as something bloody and shaped like a little bag slid out past her sodden undergarments and onto the bed. She looked at it in horror and wailed, still clinging to VanCleef's arm. "Benny! Our baby!"
VanCleef pulled himself free, shoving her away from him. He stood over her, staring at her, quivering. "You are mistaken," he said, his words hard and jagged. "You meant to say my name. That was our baby."
Myra shook her head, sobbing. "No . . . "
VanCleef hit her then, so hard she tumbled off the bed and slammed against the wall. Idira backed away and ran up the ladder, crying out for Unambi, tripping on the hem of her dress in her hurry to put distance between herself and VanCleef. Unambi came to her from out of the dark, his yellow eyes gleaming in the torchlight.
"Unambi be here," he said, his voice warm and reassuring, calming her. "Hush now, don' ya be frettin', Unambi be here." He pulled her into his arms, and together they listened to Myra's hysterical weeping, and the sound of VanCleef's booted feet pacing the narrow confines of the sitting room. The ship's doctor arrived, after a few minutes he returned holding something small and round in a bloody towel. He went to the side of the ship and threw it overboard, it landed in the water with a quiet splash. Idira waited until he went back down before running to the ship's side. She caught the last of the towel's material slipping under the water's inky surface. The water rippled, a creature, long and sinuous broke the water's surface, sliding down after the fetus. Idira choked, sickened by the thought of a little baby being thrown to the monsters in the dark waters below, its tiny body torn apart by the creature's razor-sharp teeth. Clenching the railing, she closed her eyes and willed herself to wake up, begging, praying, imploring the Light to make her nightmare end.
VanCleef moved out of their quarters that day, taking Vanessa with him, though she cried and said she didn't want to leave and go up into the dark. Idira was sent back down, the hatch closed and locked behind her. Idira could hear Unambi appealing to VanCleef, saying Idira was innocent. But VanCleef said nothing. He just walked away.
For four days Idira waited, terrified, thinking of the day VanCleef had disembowelled the maid all those years ago in the inner courtyard of the house, sick with fear Myra would face the same end. Despite her despair, she took hope at the sight of food being brought to them three times a day. If he intended to kill them, why would he continue to feed them as well as he had always done?
Early on the morning of the fifth day, as Idira sat at the table toying with her breakfast, she heard booted feet approaching the hatch. The bolt slid back. No one was supposed to come again until lunch. She stood up, panting. Here it comes, she thought. Now we die.
Myra crept out from her bedroom, still weak from having lost so much blood. She clung, shaking, to the doorjamb and peered up at the hatch as it opened, her eyes wide and fearful. Losing her baby and their subsequent incarceration had finally pushed through Myra's shattered mind and dragged her back to her senses, filling her with regret and terror for what was to come.
One of VanCleef's men came down the ladder and gestured for them to follow him up. Idira tried to take a measure of him, but his expression remained impassive, giving nothing away. Trembling, she went to Myra and helped her sister up the ladder. They came out onto the top deck, blinking in the light of dozens of burning torches. VanCleef's men stood assembled all around the deck, Idira recognised some of the ship's pirate crew too, further back, their eyes glittering in the torchlight, anticipating the show.
Standing before them, wearing his sleeveless black leather tunic and breeches, his swords hanging from the belt on his hips, VanCleef looked at Myra, his arms crossed over his chest, his biceps bulging. He lowered his arms and walked over to her, making a full circuit around her. He stopped beside her and tilted his head down so his mouth brushed against her ear.
"Did you miss my warm body beside you at night? Is that why you went to him?" he whispered. He reached out and lifted a tress of her hair. "Did you crave my attention while I wasn't there to give it to you, hm?"
Myra said nothing. She stood as still as a statue, staring straight ahead, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
VanCleef stepped back, his chest rising and falling, infuriated by her refusal to accept his explanation for her behaviour.
"Did you?!" he bellowed, his hands moving to the hilts of his swords.
Myra flinched and began to quake.
"Answer me," he breathed.
Myra shook her head, a tear escaped, sliding down her face.
Silence fell, not one of VanCleef's men moved. VanCleef stood, trembling with rage, his eyes boring into her, furious. He nodded, terse.
"Fine. Have it your way." He turned but did not take his eyes from her. "Bring him in," he called out.
A commotion broke out at the furthest edge of the group, near the scaffolding. The crowd parted, making space for two men to come through. Kip appeared first, his hand on the arm of someone behind him, following after him.
"Benny," Myra whispered, sinking to her knees.
Someone touched Idira's shoulder, she jumped and looked behind her. Unambi nodded at her, motioning for her to go to him. Everyone was looking at Benny, some with curiosity, others with veiled admiration, at the man who had made VanCleef, the leader of the Brotherhood into a cuckold. Despite her proximity to Myra, no one was looking at Idira. She shuffled backwards until she was beside Unambi. He reached out and took her hand, his expression so sad, it made her heart ache.
"Don' be lookin'," he warned, low.
But Idira already knew what VanCleef was capable of, knew underneath all his polish and elegant charm a dark and vengeful creature lurked who relished the indiscriminate power of one who could take lives without any consequences to himself. She had allowed herself to be blinded to his true nature, by listening to the words of Nin, as she justified his many crimes in the name of a greater good. No more. She would watch, and she would never forget, would never again allow herself to be seduced by the myth of VanCleef, the unsung hero. He was a bad man, just like Papa, no he was worse than Papa, because at least Papa didn't pretend to be good. And now, Benny was going to die because VanCleef couldn't make Myra love him.
His face utterly impassive, Kip stopped in front of VanCleef and let Benny go. Benny and Myra gazed at each other, their eyes telling everyone the truth, that no one, not even VanCleef could ever come between them.
"I love ye Myra," Benny said, low. "I'll find ye, in the Nether. Whenever ye come ta me, I'll be there, waitin' like I allus have."
A stiletto flashed in VanCleef's hand, he rammed it in between Benny's ribs, puncturing his lung. Benny staggered and fell to his knees. He reached out to Myra, his fingertips caressing her face. VanCleef's sword slashed down, severing Benny's arm at the elbow. Benny fell back onto his haunches with a jagged cry, scrabbling at his bloody stump, his face paling. The stiletto flashed again, into Benny's abdomen, once, twice, three times. A stink rose up as the gases in his body escaped. Kip came forward holding a hangman's noose in his hands, suggesting it was time to end this, but VanCleef shook his head, his eyes glittering in the torchlight, hungry for more.
He circled Benny once, then kicked him in the shoulder, sending him sprawling onto the deck. Benny flailed, blood spraying from the stump of his severed arm, splattering those around him. VanCleef stepped over Benny, straddling him, and pulled a hidden dagger from his tunic. He bent down and cut the laces holding Benny's breeches closed, taking great care not to nick him, his work almost seductive. Myra cried out, horrified, and grabbed hold of VanCleef's leg, begging him to stop. VanCleef kicked her aside, sending her tumbling into the legs of one of his men.
Groaning and sliding in his blood, Benny pulled himself up, struggling to come to his feet. His face twisting with hate, VanCleef rammed his booted foot against the base of Benny's throat. Benny slammed back onto the deck, juddering as he fought to free himself. VanCleef scoffed and reached down into Benny's open trousers, grabbing hold of something Idira couldn't see. He smiled, cold, and with a rough jerk of his dagger he pulled something free. Myra screamed, and Benny bellowed, gagging in agony. VanCleef spun around, holding Benny's bloody genitals in his hand, triumphant. He flung the grisly thing away, it slid across the deck, a tangled mess of hair and flesh. A stunned silence swept over the crowd, several of the men looked away, and more than one turned to retch over the side of the ship.
Benny still breathed, though his breaths came out ragged and broken, his punctured lung making the blood bubble on his tunic. He bled out, blood pumping out in deep, slow gouts from his groin, torso and the stump of his arm. Though he shuddered and gasped, his face rigid with shock and pain, he kept his eyes on Myra. He blinked at her, slow, as his final breaths left him.
Myra crawled over to him and clutched his bloody hand to her mouth, kissing it, weeping, her eyes locked on his, staying with him to the end.
"I love you," she breathed, "I never, ever stopped."
VanCleef roared, furious, and turned, pulling his sword free. He raised it high, preparing to behead Myra. She waited, her eyes locked on Benny's, kneeling in his blood, her face and dress spattered with it, holding his gaze even as the light in his eyes died.
Idira clung to Unambi so hard, her fingers hurt. Fear and shock held her in its thrall, she could only watch horrified and helpless as Benny died and Myra awaited her execution. She began to quake, certain she would be next, and then Unambi. This was how it would end, here in the dark, their bodies fed to the monsters below.
VanCleef continued to hold the sword up for a long time. His arm began to shake. "Look at me!" he cried, his voice raw with jealousy and need. "Just once, look at me."
Myra lifted her eyes from Benny's dead ones and looked at VanCleef, dull. He stared at her, his face contorting as a multitude of emotions rode through him. He lowered the sword and pulled her to her feet, his arm going around her, possessive. He pulled her against him and kissed her, fierce, uncaring that Benny's blood coated her lips.
"No. It's over," he murmured as he dropped his bloodied sword, letting it fall to the deck with a clatter. "He's gone. Forever. You are mine now. I could never kill you. I would kill myself first."
Myra didn't respond, she stood, numb, hanging like a doll in his arms, her eyes vacant, letting him rant and rave, kissing her over and over, his bloody hands in her hair, swearing his love for her was greater than any which had gone before. Her eyes went back to Benny's as VanCleef promised she would soon see what he could see, as he described their idyllic future, how they would be a family and happy once more, just as they once had been.
His men shifted, uncomfortable, drifting away one by one, until only Unambi, Kip and Idira remained.
VanCleef looked up from stroking Myra's hair from her face, at Benny's ruined body. "I am not a bad man," he said, soft. "You must understand, it is other people who force me to do the things that are necessary to keep everything right. You will see. One day, when all this is over, you will love me, so much more than you ever loved him."
That night Idira couldn't sleep. She lay in her bunk, listening to Vanessa's even breathing, grateful her niece had been kept far below in the galley for the duration of Benny's brutal execution. She tried to think of something to distract her mind from replaying the last moments she had had up on deck, but even thoughts of the hero Khadgar, lately her most favourite diversion, failed to capture her attention.
The memory crept back, vivid. At a terse word from VanCleef, Kip and Unambi picked up Benny's body and threw it overboard. Idira cried as he fell, his eyes still open, looking up at them, filled with pain and grief, holding their gazes until the waters claimed him and he sank into their depths. Myra had just stared in total silence at the spot where Benny's body had slammed against the water, even as the surface parted and several serpents gathered, diving after him, their teeth flashing in the torchlight.
A quiet sound in the sitting room pulled Idira from her thoughts. She sat up and listened, holding her breath. It was the dead of the night, the hatch was closed and locked from the inside. Had someone come in? Impossible, they would have to get past Unambi first. A terrible thought crawled over her. What if Benny had come back to haunt them? Idira thought of the stories Cook had told her about ghosts, of the souls of the dead, those poor unfortunates who had been brutally murdered but remained in the realm of the living, unable to leave the ones they loved.
She swung her legs over the side of the bunk and slipped to the door, pulling it open with the greatest care, so as not to make a sound. She peeked out through the crack, her heart pounding, half expecting to see a ghostly apparition of Benny standing by the dining table.
She caught her breath. Myra, clad only her nightdress, walked slowly across the sitting room, hunched over, carrying something in her arms. Idira edged the door open a little further, frustrated by the deep shadows in the sitting room. Only one candle burned at the back, on a shelf behind the ladder, in case anyone needed to make their way to the washroom in the night, but its light was so dim, Idira couldn't make out what Myra cradled against her chest. Her sister stopped by the windows and knelt down, setting whatever she had in her arms onto the floor. She reached up and opened the window, securing it onto the upper latch.
Idira furrowed her brow, perplexed, why would Myra want to open the window in the dead of the night? She watched as her sister bent down to lift up the thing on the floor and set it on the ledge, before lifting her nightdress up from her ankles to clamber up onto the ledge after it.
Something was tied around Myra's ankle. It looked fat and fuzzy. Idira's eyes widened as horror swept over her. A rope, just like in her vision at her birthday party. The rope snaked up and wrapped around the thing on the ledge. She squinted, desperate to make out its shape. No. Her heart sank. VanCleef's strongbox, carrying all his gold. The heaviest thing Myra could have found that wasn't already bolted down.
Her sister sat on the window ledge, her legs dangling over the side; over the dark depths and the things that stirred within its black waters. Idira pushed the door open and ran after her sister, crying out, begging her to stop, stubbing her toes and bashing her ankles and knees against the corners of the unforgiving furniture bolted to the floor. Her sister looked back, her eyes hollow and empty, and pushed the strong box out the window.
"Benny," she whispered. The box tumbled out into the empty air.
The rope fell away, at the last moment she pushed herself from the ledge and with a flutter of white linen she was gone, a heartbeat later a loud splash pierced the quiet as the strong box hit the water, followed by a louder one as Myra landed after it.
"Myra!" Idira screamed. She stumbled, shrieking and sobbing to the window.
VanCleef burst out of his bedroom, his eyes wild and searching. His gaze raked over the room, taking in the open window and Idira's panic. He ran to the window and looked down, horror and disbelief ravaging his face at the ripples of Myra's impact still slapping against the ship. Something huge and slimy slithered towards her. Its scales rose up and fell again, diving down after her. A thrashing rose up, then nothing.
"No, no, no, no!" Idira cried, hauling on VanCleef's arm. "Save her, do something!"
VanCleef half-lunged out the window then caught himself. He fell back, stumbling against the table, his jaw slack with shock. "It's too late. She's already gone." He stared out the window into the wall of black beyond, stunned, his eyes welling with tears. "Myra, my love, how will I ever go on without you . . ."
Idira rushed at him, hitting him, screaming and kicking. "How will you ever live without her? You killed her when you butchered Benny!" Rent with helplessness and frustration, she pounded her fists against the hardened slabs of his muscled torso. "Where is my Light?! Why doesn't it come?" she screeched, panting, willing it to come, to punish VanCleef for all his crimes. "Why do you live and they die?" she railed, rage tearing through her, driving her on, even as her hands began to ache. "Why is everything so unfair?"
VanCleef didn't respond, he just stood, sagging against the table, tears streaking his face as Idira pummelled him, shrieking, incoherent until she tasted blood.
"Daddy?" a quiet voice called out, tremulous.
Idira looked up, her chest aching and throat raw. Vanessa stood holding a stuffed toy, her eyes wide and frightened. "Where's Mommy?"
VanCleef pulled free of Idira and went to Vanessa. He knelt and took her into his arms. "Mommy's gone. She's gone to the Light," he sobbed into her hair. "It's just us now."
Idira lowered her fists, her rage melting away as Vanessa wailed, heartbroken, crying for her mommy, begging to know what she had done wrong to drive her away. VanCleef shuddered and wept so hard he couldn't answer her. Idira stared at him, clutching Vanessa against his chest, protective, grieving so hard she almost felt sorry for him. He turned and held out an arm to Idira, beckoning her over so she could join them. Idira shook her head and backed away.
It was over. Her sister was gone. Benny was gone. Idira's heart ached so much she couldn't breathe. She ran up the ladder and pulled the latch free. Unambi stood waiting for her. He opened his arms and she tumbled into them, crying so hard she gagged. He rocked her back and forth, saying he'd heard it all. He murmured other things in his troll language too, soothing things, and as she quieted, drifting in a world of memories, grief and loss she realised Unambi was crying, too.