Kyle peered over the side of the boat into the bay. Below, he could make out the outlines of brick and wood beams and a myriad of objects — the section of Port Royal, Jamaica, that had slid into the sea in 1692.
“What caused it?” he asked.
“Earthquake,” Hal said. “Abin Sur told me he came here just after. The devastation was horrendous, as if the city had melted into the sea. Thousands were killed. If the earthquake didn’t get them, they died of disease.”
Kyle squinted, trying to make out the objects below him. He couldn’t even begin to imagine thousands of people all dying at once.
“Some say it was God’s punishment for Port Royal’s sins, because it was the Sodom of the New World,” Toren said as he pulled the oars.
Kyle turned his eyes away from the ghostly shapes to look at Hal. “Do you believe that?”
Hal shrugged. “I would think there are worse sins in the world for God to concern himself with than sins of pleasure.”
“It did burn down when they tried to rebuild,” Hannu added.
Kyle looked at the buildings that lined the shore ahead of them and wondered what sort of sins a whole city could commit to bring about such wrath.
They reached the dock and clambered up onto the battered wood. They had come to Port Royal to meet Hal’s acquaintance, Captain Bruce Wayne, to see if he was interested in the maps they’d gotten from Captain Prince. Hal had served with Wayne in the Royal Navy. Now Wayne was working for the governor of Jamaica in some capacity. Kyle was worried — wasn’t the Crown after pirates? — but Hal assured him that Wayne wasn’t beyond making shady deals to help King and Country. And the French maps in their possession would certainly be of interest to England.
They hired a boy to take a message to Wayne and then there was nothing to do but wait to see if he would actually meet with them. Kyle watched the bustle around him. It was a quieter port than Tortuga, probably because half of it had disappeared into the sea not so long ago. Every now and then a red coat or two would appear, the uniform of the King’s soldiers, which caused Hal to flinch and pull his hat down to hide his face.
“Let’s go get a drink,” Hal said after another pair of soldiers wandered by, far too close for comfort for the pirates. They left Toren and Hannu to wait for the messenger to return and ducked into a tavern, The Royal Oak, taking a table in a dark corner. Now Kyle knew why Hal had them dress in old clothes — they would have stuck out like a sore thumb otherwise. It seemed the dregs of the city came here, and these were the ones that had money to spend in a tavern.
“Want a tumble, laddie?” a shrill voice asked.
Kyle looked up. A woman with greasy blond hair and a garishly painted face grinned down at him with rotten teeth. Her pimply breasts were tightly laced into a corset so they were pushed up high on her chest. Kyle turned away, grimacing. Even if he did desire women, he would probably still have been disgusted by the woman. She was the complete opposite of sweet, pretty Jenny Scott, the only woman he’d ever seriously considered in a romantic way. “No. Thank you.”
She leaned close and he could detect a sour, unwashed smell under the tang of too-sweet perfume. “Not good enough for you?” she sneered.
“Leave him alone,” Hal said coldly. “He’s not interested.”
“Come on, Gillian,” another woman said, pulling her companion away. “Don’t waste your time on them. They don’t look like they could pay anyway.”
Kyle looked at Hal and blew out a nervous breath. “Thanks.”
Hal leaned close to him to whisper in his ear. “Wouldn’t want you catching the pox,” he said, winking at Kyle. But the possessive hand gripping Kyle’s knee under the table told him that Hal also had no intention of sharing his lover with anyone.
They finished a watery ale before Hannu came in with the return message from Wayne. Hal opened the folded paper, then nodded. “He’s going to meet us.”
Hannu and Toren remained with the boat while Hal and Kyle walked to the center of Port Royal to meet Wayne. The tavern Wayne had chosen for their meeting was called El Murciélago Diabólico — The Devil Bat. It wasn’t hard to spot. It had a bat on the sign hanging over the door, a frightening creature baring fangs and claws. And though it turned out to be a fairly respectable establishment — clean and filled with people far better off than the patrons at the pub on the docks — Kyle had a bad feeling about this.
But his worries melted away when he actually met the man. Bruce Wayne stood up from his seat at a table near a sunny window and smiled at them with the vapid grin Kyle had experienced all too often when his father would entertain lords — the dull expression of the bored and spoiled. The man probably had trouble finding his own arse, let alone plotting to betray Hal.
“Good to see you again, old friend,” Wayne said cheerily to Hal, taking his hand and shaking it. He gave the barest of glances at Kyle, most likely assuming Kyle was a servant.
Hal ducked his head down again and dropped into a chair. “A little less attention would be better,” he growled. Kyle took the chair next to him, across the table from Wayne.
“Sorry, right.” Wayne sat down and leaned forward, head in hands. “So what do you have for me?” he whispered, in the bright-eyed, inquisitive manner of a small child getting a birthday present.
Hal frowned at him a moment, then set the map case on the table. “French trade and exploratory routes.” He pulled open the case to reveal the parchment inside. “And naval movements for the next year.”
“Ahh. Very interesting.” Wayne reached for the case but Hal pulled it back out of reach. “Right, right. Payment first.” Wayne dug into his coat and pulled out a bag of coin. He dropped it on the table. “Five hundred. That’s the most Governor Kent has authorized for … well, let’s just say ‘information from less than reputable sources’.”
“Five hundred,” Hal said with a slight nod. “And lay off my ship while she’s in Jamaica. And my crew.”
Wayne pursed his lips for a moment and Kyle thought he caught the barest hint of hardness in his eyes. But then he blinked and the vapid fop was back. “Very well. The Emerald Dawn and your crew will remain unmolested.”
Hal nodded, then slid the map case over to Wayne. He picked up the bag of coin and handed it to Kyle. Kyle took it, playing the servant, and tucked it inside his coat pocket without a word.
Hal stood and Kyle did the same. Hal bowed slightly to the man across from them. “Bruce.”
“A pleasure doing business with you, Captain,” Wayne said, still with a smile on his face. “It was a shame to lose you to … other interests.”
Hal frowned again. “And we both know why. I did not abandon my country. She abandoned me.” He turned on his heel, gesturing for Kyle to follow. “I don’t trust him,” Hal mumbled as they left the tavern. “Something was off.”
“How so?” Kyle asked as they hurried down the busy street towards the docks. “He seemed friendly enough.”
“That’s what was off,” Hal said. “Bruce is never friendly. He was a bastard to his crews. Men dreaded serving with him. I don’t know what game he’s playing now, but …” Hal glanced over his shoulder, back towards the tavern. “Just keep an eye open.”
They reached the market that separated the center of town from the docks and the crowd got thicker. Hal was glancing left and right now and Kyle noticed he’d picked up the pace.
“There’s far too many of the King’s men around for my liking,” Hal whispered.
Kyle nodded. It seemed that now there was a red-coated soldier on every street corner. Chances are they weren’t even looking for Hal, but then again they could be looking for Hal. Someone with a good eye and a good scope could have spotted the Dawn, and of course they wouldn’t know about Wayne’s deal to leave her and her crew alone.
They were near the center of the market now, close enough to the docks that Kyle could see the masts of ships, but it was slow going through the heavy crowd. Hal had got ahead of him, and Kyle was having a hard time keeping him in sight. The press of bodies was slowing him down, but he didn’t dare call out Hal’s name in case the soldiers were looking for him.
He bumped into a woman, spilling the parcels of bread out of her arms. “Sorry,” he mumbled as she shouted at him in heavily-accented English. He bent down and scooped up the loaves, shoving them unceremoniously back into her arms, but when he stood up, Hal was completely out of sight now. Damn!
The woman was still screeching and the nearest soldier was looking his way. Kyle apologized to her and fished a coin from the pouch to press into her hand, which thankfully quieted her. He pressed back against the nearest shop to get his bearings, trying to figure out the best way to get back to the docks which would avoid the soldiers.
A hand grabbed his arm and fear shot through him. He turned, expecting to come face to face with a soldier, but instead he looked down into the wizened face of a round, elderly, oriental man with cloudy eyes.
“You are the Torchbearer,” the man announced.
Torchbearer? Kyle shook his head. “I’m sorry? I don’t know what you mean.” He tried to pull his arm away, but gnarled fingers gripped him tightly with an amazing strength for an old man.
“You are the Torchbearer,” the man said again, his mouth breaking into a toothless grin. “When times are dark, when the greatest one has fallen, they will look to you.”
“I think you have me confused with someone else.” Kyle tried tugging his arm away again but the man wasn’t letting go.
“Uncle!” A woman came out of the candle shop behind them and wrapped her hand around the old man’s wrist. “Leave this gentleman be!”
“He is one of us,” the man said, nodding and smiling at his niece. But he released his grip on Kyle’s arm. “And he is the Torchbearer.” He turned to Kyle again. “The oracle said you would come to me today!” He cackled happily and patted Kyle’s arm. “Wait here, I have something for you.” He turned and disappeared into the shop.
“I’m so very sorry, sir,” the woman said to Kyle, bowing her head to him. “My uncle …” She leaned in close to Kyle’s ear. “His mind is not what it once was. He’s become obsessed with his oracles, waiting for this ‘torchbearer’ to arrive, always going on about magic lanterns and the legends he’d heard as a boy in China.”
The man came out of the shop again, still grinning madly. He grabbed Kyle’s hand and pressed something small and round into his palm. “This once belonged to my ancestor, Jong Li. And now I have found you and it is yours. Use it well.”
The woman gave Kyle an apologetic smile, then took the old man’s arm to pull him back into the shop. “Come back inside, Uncle Mogo. I’ll make you some tea.”
Kyle furrowed his brows as what she had said sunk in. Always going on about magic lanterns? From China? He opened his fist to look at the object that had been pressed there. It was a ring. A green ring, with a circle and two bars that resembled a lantern. A lantern symbol that was nearly identical to the one on the Emerald Dawn’s flag. It even looked to be made of the same metal as the lantern. He started to follow the man into the shop, to ask about the lantern, but then he remembered he was supposed to be following Hal. He sighed and pocketed the ring. The next time they were in Port Royal, he’d bring Hal back here to see the old man. Kyle looked up the street and felt a pang of worry and fear. He’d been speaking to the old man for quite a while. Why hadn’t Hal noticed he was missing and come back to look for him?
He got his answer when he heard the rhythmic pounding of booted feet on the cobbles. The crowd scurried to make way for a large group of soldiers coming up the street. Kyle pressed himself back against the wall of the candle shop to wait for them to pass. Then he caught sight of the prisoner in their midst.
“Hal…” He started to push his way through the crowd toward the soldiers, not at all sure what he was going to do once he got there. But Hal caught his eye and shook his head sharply, then nodded back towards the docks. And then Kyle could only watch helplessly as his lover was taken away.
Kyle clenched his fists. He hated leaving Hal like this, but he needed help. He turned and ran towards the docks.
“He wasn’t telling you to get help,” Guy said solemnly.
Kyle closed his eyes, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. “You’re telling me we are going to leave Hal to die?”
“Those are his instructions. Those have always been his instructions.” Guy looked around the table at the other officers. They all nodded in agreement, none of them raising their eyes to look at Kyle. Except for Guy. Guy looked Kyle straight in the eye. “He knew what a liability he was to the crew — the Royal Navy doesn’t look too kindly on one of their captains turning pirate. And he didn’t want anyone to risk themselves to save him. We’re to continue without him.”
Kyle stood up and turned away from the table. He scrubbed his hands over his face, then turned back to face Guy. “I don’t believe this! I thought he was your friend!”
Guy slapped his hand on the table. “Do you think I like this decision?”
“I don’t know, Captain Gardner,” Kyle sneered. “Do you?”
Guy went bright red. He stood up, knocking his chair over. “What are you suggesting, Rayner? That I wanted Hal to get caught?”
“You’re certainly not putting a lot of effort into getting him back!”
“That’s enough!” John shouted, standing up between Kyle and Guy. “Fighting amongst ourselves will not solve anything.”
“Neither will leaving Hal to hang while we turn tail and run!” Kyle shouted.
“In any other situation, I would put my life on the line for him!” Guy shouted back. “He’s been more of a brother to me than my own brother ever was! But I also have a responsibility to follow his orders, and first and foremost my responsibility is to this crew. And going into that prison would be a suicide mission!”
Kyle looked around at the others. What had happened to the loyal crew that he had come to consider his family? He threw up his hands. “Fine. But before you leave, I want you to take me back to shore.”
“You can’t do anything for him, Kyle,” Guy said, calmer now, with a hint of sympathy in his voice. “He’s made a lot of enemies. He could be dead already. I’m sorry.”
“I won’t stay on this ship without him.” Kyle bowed his head. He couldn’t stand to see the pity in his shipmate’s eyes. Or for them to see the tears prickling in his.
“I think we’re through discussing this then,” Guy said.
They left and Kyle slumped back down at the table. He refused to believe that Hal was dead already. Didn’t they like to make a big show out of hanging pirates, to make an example of them? And Hal was the most notorious pirate of them all. He wouldn’t be dying in private, which meant that Kyle had a chance to save him. He didn’t know what he would do once he was back on land, but he had to do something.
When times are dark, when the greatest one has fallen, they will look to you.
The old man’s words suddenly echoed in his mind. He frowned. Was the ‘greatest one’ Hal? Was this what the old man meant?
He grabbed the key from the desk and opened the trunk that held the lantern. He pulled out the bundle and set it on the table, then started to unwrap it. He needed to go see the old man and ask him what he knew about magical lanterns, but he didn’t think his shipmates would let him take the lantern off the ship. Could he convince the crew to stay long enough to bring the old man here?
He squinted as the cloth fell away, revealing the glowing lantern. He sat back down and propped his chin on his hands while he studied it. He couldn’t see where the light was coming from—there was no flame flickering within. But it wasn’t just the center of the lantern that was glowing. He realized the whole lantern had a glow to it. Was the metal itself causing the glow?
He pulled the ring from his pocket. He hadn’t told them about it, considering it irrelevant to getting Hal back. But maybe the ring had the same powers of protection as the lantern? He slipped the ring on his finger and held it next to the lantern. Within seconds it started to glow, too. Kyle stood up and walked into the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him. The ring was still glowing.
He sat down on the bed, not quite daring to hope that he had a way to save Hal in his grasp. Now he just needed a way to test it.