Scoundrel - The Blades Of The Rose Part 27

"He minds when the wind wind touches you," Kallas said darkly. He checked his efforts with businesslike precision. "All in? Secure?" touches you," Kallas said darkly. He checked his efforts with businesslike precision. "All in? Secure?"

London tested the feel of the ropes around her thighs and at her waist, and nodded. She had no doubt the captain's handiwork was excellent, but that didn't stop her pulse from beating like crows at a dark window.

"Ready?" asked Athena.

London's mouth dried, so she could only nod again. Then she tugged on the rope, three times, as Bennett had done.

A jolt, and then her feet lifted from the deck of the caique. She was drawn upward, pulled, presumably, by Bennett. Such a strange sensation, as though slowly, slowly flying. More and more distance separated her from the boat, and Athena and Kallas began to shrink beneath her as she rose.

Bennett was a strong man, and she wasn't precisely corpulent, but London wouldn't allow him to bear her weight alone. As soon as she drew up close to the cliff, she searched for foot- and handholds, trying to pull and push herself upward. Even with the support of the harness, it was tough work, straining her every muscle. Thank heavens she had been laboring on the boat these past days, developing her strength, else she would have merely dangled on the end of the rope like a puppet.

She chanced a look down, then cursed herself. Even though she knew falling was not a possibility, her head spun with the height. Still, she found a gratification in her elevation, the harsh wind and sun raking her, as though completely exposed before the eye of G.o.d. When she banged her knees into the rock, or sc.r.a.ped her face and hands, she allowed herself some prime swearing, but kept her resolve for as long as she was able. Better this, to scrabble up the side of a cliff, with the sea below and the sky stretched overhead, than be shut away in a plush prison, safe from danger, entirely numb.

Her fingers felt like tender, uncooked sausages and her legs shook by the time she neared the top of the cliff. If Bennett hadn't been there, pulling her up, she wouldn't have made it. Or, at the least, it would have taken her a day to make the climb.

When Bennett's dark head appeared over the edge of the cliff, smiling, of course, liquid joy poured through her. Filled with new energy, London pushed herself hard to scale the rest of the way. After everything she'd seen and done today, she burned with the need to touch him.

She clambered over the cliff's edge just as he gave one final pull on the rope. She stumbled forward, knocking him back. They sprawled together, gasping, her lying on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Beneath her, she felt the heat and solidity of his body, the body she knew so intimately, and she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling him. She could hardly move. Not merely because her limbs were exhausted, but because he felt exactly right, touching her.

She brought herself up just enough to kiss him, eating him up like a savage woman. He kissed her back with the same hunger, slipping the harness off of her, then pulled away slightly.

"There's someone I want you to meet," he said, when she frowned in confusion. He sat up, taking her with him. That's when she saw it. And forgot how to breathe.

"London Harcourt, Oracle's Daughter," Bennett said in cla.s.sical Greek, "allow me to introduce you to the Colossus of Rhodes."

A giant, buried to his shoulders in the rock, nodded regally.

"Um, charmed," said London.

What London had learned about the Colossus of Rhodes came from piles of dusty tomes, scholarly and ancient accounts about one of the Seven Wonders of the World. It had been constructed in the fourth century B.C., a bronze monument to the sun G.o.d Helios to celebrate victory after a long and painful battle. London had seen many different renderings of the ma.s.sive statue, some depicting the G.o.d astride the Rhodian harbor, others showing a more cla.s.sical pose. London had always been impressed by the spectacle, wondering what such a gigantic statue might be like in person. Awe-inspiring, she imagined. Spectacular, in the truest sense of the word.

Nothing, neither her books nor her imagination, truly prepared her for standing in front of what was very much not not a statue, yet not truly alive, an enormous creature somewhere between metal and flesh. It only had one eye, but the eye it did possess was easily two feet across, gleaming like fire in the afternoon light. a statue, yet not truly alive, an enormous creature somewhere between metal and flesh. It only had one eye, but the eye it did possess was easily two feet across, gleaming like fire in the afternoon light.

And looking right at her.

"Am I the Oracle's Daughter?" she whispered in English to Bennett, standing beside her. She held his hand tightly, and felt some grounding from the familiar and wonderful texture of his skin against hers.

Lowly, Bennett said, "He insisted he would only speak with me, the Solver of Secrets, if the Oracle's Daughter was here, as well. It's been your language skills that have brought us to this point, communicating the words of the ancients to us now. I remembered that Kallas called you Lady Oracle, and it made sense."

"Are you sure I'm not some variety of virgin sacrifice?"

Bennett's glance at her was both droll and reproving. Of course he wouldn't bring her up to the Colossus if the giant meant to eat her like a kipper. And, as for virgin, those days were quite, quite behind her. She had the blushes and bite marks to prove it.

"What does he want?" she whispered.

"Only one way to find out." He took a step forward. Addressing the Colossus in cla.s.sical Greek, he said, "I've brought to you the Oracle's Daughter, as you requested." Bennett tugged on London's hand so she also stepped forward, though with a bit more reluctance.

The giant stared at her, its gaze as weighty as time. Despite everything she had done over the past weeks, all she had seen, to be in the presence of a magical being, particularly one so enormous as the Colossus, left her more than a little lost.

"How do you do?" she said, also in cla.s.sical Greek, then winced at her gaucheness. This wasn't a blasted tea salon! She pictured herself lifting a teacup the size of a birdbath up to the mouth of the giant, and fought down a hysterical giggle.

"Are you truly the Oracle's Daughter?" the Colossus thundered in the Samalian-Thracian dialect.

London barely managed to keep herself from covering her ears from the tremendous boom of the giant's voice. Such a gesture would read as disrespectful, and she most a.s.suredly did not not want to offend this huge creature. want to offend this huge creature.

And she could not not let him see any signs of fear or hesitation. "I am she," she answered in the same dialect. let him see any signs of fear or hesitation. "I am she," she answered in the same dialect.

The Colossus inclined his head in approval, appearing to London as if a mountain were tipping onto its side.

"The Oracle's Daughter and Solver of Secrets seek the terrible waterborne gift, the fire that burns upon water," the Colossus said in cla.s.sical Greek, its voice resounding throughout the soft tissues of London's body.

"For the protection of the gift, not for our own use," Bennett answered, his own voice remarkably level for a man addressing a giant.

The Colossus's gaze moved over them both, so penetrating she felt as though her every secret had been laid bare. She prayed the giant did not see the time she stole a penny from her governess to buy a piece of boiled sweets.

After moments of this examination, the Colossus rumbled, "I read your hearts as I had desired, and find them true."

London allowed herself an exhalation of relief. Bolstering her courage, she asked, "What must we do to find this gift?"

"I see far," the Colossus intoned. "I see the spans of generations as though they were mayflies, decades and centuries no more than glints upon the surface of the rocks. I see the millennia fall away. I see my destruction. The monument honoring me fell, torn asunder by my brother Poseidon's earth shakings." The Colossus's mouth twisted bitterly. "Jealousy. Yet I expect no better from him, the waterlogged fool."

London exchanged glances with Bennett. It seemed even G.o.ds had difficulties with their families.

"For hundreds of years, my monument lay in pieces," continued the giant. "Until, piece by piece, it was taken away upon the backs of nine hundred camels and melted down, lost to time. Everything gone, except my Eye, the Eye which held the terrible gift."

"And if we find the Eye, we will have control over the waterborne fire," said Bennett.

"It has been used before for such a purpose."

Even though speaking with a partially buried giant was not precisely ordinary, London's pulse sped up even further at the mention of the Source. It was precisely what the Blades sought to protect from the Heirs. "Where is the Eye?" she asked.

The Colossus's sigh would have tipped London onto her backside had Bennett not been holding her. "I cannot show you where it is," the giant said, mournful. "I have but one Eye to see it."

London's heart sank. Even this incarnation of the sun G.o.d could not help them in their quest.

"We shall be your eyes," said Bennett. "We will find what you have lost. But without more information, our sight is just as hindered as yours. Tell us the first steps of our journey."

The Colossus's scowl was a terrible thing, yet Bennett didn't seem to mind it overmuch. Oh, dear. Sometimes bravado wasn't the best tactic to employ. Perhaps that was why the Blades included women in their ranks.

"If we find your Eye," London said quickly, "then we can restore it to you. Will that not make it secure and keep it from the hands of wicked men?"

This appeared to mollify the Colossus. "You speak as a sage, Oracle's Daughter. I shall tell you what I can, but, in turn, you must swear solemnly to return my Eye to me."

"That was the plan all along," muttered Bennett in English.

"You might've said so," London hissed back. "We will swear," she said louder in Greek, "as our hearts attest."

The giant seemed appeased. "You will find the Eye in the Black Temple," he said. "I know not where to find this Temple, alas. But you shall find it there. The Oracle's Daughter and the Solver of Secrets must navigate the Temple together. The future of the earth is in both your hands."

"And once we do all this?" London prompted. "Do we bring the Eye back to you?"

"No, this image you see before you is naught but an illusion. I belong to the sea, the sun, and the sky. To restore to me my Eye, the Solver of Secrets and the Oracle's Daughter must take the light of the sun to a place on the sea floor that has never seen sunlight, and there, let the Eye rest. Only then shall my sight be restored."

"Many thanks to you," said Bennett, bowing.

"My thanks shall be yours if you succeed in this," the Colossus thundered in reply. "But if you liberate the Eye and do not restore it to me, the consequences will be most dire. Mankind will have in its possession the means of destroying itself. And so it shall."

With those booming words, the Colossus faded into air. All London saw before her now was the top of the cliff, dotted with gra.s.s swaying in the breeze. It seemed hard to believe that moments earlier, she had been speaking with an almost completely interred Colossus. Yet the vibrations in her body from the giant's voice still resounded.

"That went well," said Bennett. "All we have to do is find this Black Temple, get the Eye of the Colossus, and put it on the bottom of the sea."

"It sounds very simple," London said. "It sounds incredibly difficult."

"A typical day for a Blade." He smiled, and bent to kiss her. "By the way, I didn't tell you how d.a.m.n impressed I was by you coming up the side of the cliff. Like a Valkyrie soaring to heaven."

She smiled against his mouth. "I had some help."

"Don't be modest. These trousers surely aren't." He ran his hands down her hips and cupped her bottom. "I could get used to this."

"Kallas might want his trousers back."

"To h.e.l.l with him," Bennett growled playfully.

They pressed close. London hoped Kallas and Athena could wait a little while longer.

A horrific shriek rent the air, as if the fabric between Heaven and h.e.l.l had been torn apart. London and Bennett were thrown to the ground, stealing their breath. His arms tightened on her to shield her from whatever had battered into them. Something clawed at his shoulder, and he grunted in pain.

More shrieks, chilling her to her marrow. London looked up from the shelter of Bennett's embrace and shuddered. Maybe she had died, and now found herself in the underworld, for that was the only way she could explain what she saw.

A beast of impossible hideousness, it would be branded upon London's mind for all eternity. Over eight feet tall, the creature vaguely resembled a human, but its skin glistened a jaundiced yellow, its eyes two glowing embers, fangs protruding from its slavering mouth. The beast had two legs and six arms, each hand and foot tipped with shredding talons. It beat the air with scaled wings, bathing London and Bennett with the smell of sulphur and carrion. The stench nearly made London gag.

Thomas Fraser stood, gloating, not ten feet from London and Bennett, with the creature hovering behind him. He brandished a wicked knife in one hand, its blade jagged and curved, a pistol in the other. Two brutish mercenaries flanked him, the barrels of their rifles pointed in her and Bennett's direction.

Fraser smirked. "London, you've made your father very cross."

Chapter 16.

Depths and Heights London's mind spun frantically as she and Bennett rose to their feet. Even if the way to the rope wasn't blocked by Fraser and that awful, hovering thing thing, she and Bennett would not be able to climb down from the cliff fast enough. The winged beast would be on them in moments, shredding them to pieces with its fangs and claws. And Fraser and his mercenaries had guns-Bennett had one revolver. Ten feet separated London and Bennett from Fraser and his men. Too far to grab their guns, too near to evade their bullets.

Quickly, she glanced around the top of the cliff to see what other options they might have. Nothing. The top of the cliff was a barren expanse of weeds, barely thirty feet across. It offered no cover anywhere.

But she she was cover. was cover.

London stepped in front of Bennett, shielding him from the barrel of Fraser's revolver. Fraser's eyes widened, and Bennett swore.

"Get the h.e.l.l out of the way," Bennett growled. He moved to shove her aside, but the mercenaries raised their rifles higher in threat, pinning him in place.

"My father wants me alive," London said to Fraser. "You have to go through me."

Fraser scowled. "Stupid wh.o.r.e," he spat. He leapt to the side, attempting to go around her so he could put a bullet in Bennett. London shuffled to block him, but, when Fraser suddenly cursed in shock and frustration, she glanced behind her and started.

Bennett was gone.

For a moment, everyone standing atop the cliff stared in frozen amazement. It was as if Bennett simply disappeared into nothingness. London's pulse hammered. Had he fallen off the other side of the cliff? Not caring about the guns trained on her, she ran to the cliff's edge and looked down. All she saw was more sheer rock plummeting into the sea. Where was he?

She turned around, just in time to see Bennett, revolver in hand, rucksack still on his back, spring up over the rim of the cliff close to where Fraser and the mercenaries stood. She realized he had been hanging from the edge on his fingertips, moving to flank Fraser without being seen by anyone, herself included. Her heart ricocheted in mingled relief and fear as he landed in a crouch. Before the other men could react, Bennett shot, hitting the mercenary standing farthest from him. The man cried out as he fell, a circle of red widening in the center of his chest. As the mercenary crumpled, his finger instinctively tightened on the trigger of his rifle and fired a round. Straight at the winged beast.

With a roar, the creature reared away. One of its wings slapped Fraser, knocking him down so that he rolled almost over the edge. The knife dropped from his hand as he scrabbled in the dirt. London tried to grab the knife, but the beast's flapping wings kept her at bay.

Over the shrieks of the beast and the buffeting wind, London heard the sounds of men grunting in pain and exertion. She saw Bennett grappling with the remaining mercenary, both gripping the rifle, digging their heels into the ground as they fought. The mercenary shoved at the b.u.t.t of the rifle, trying to plow it into Bennett's ribs. Bennett shoved back, landing an elbow right in the thug's face. Dazed, the man's grip on the rifle loosened slightly. Bennett grabbed the rifle and slammed the side of the barrel into the mercenary's head.

The mercenary stumbled, then pitched over the edge of the cliff. London winced, hearing his prolonged scream as he plummeted over a hundred feet to his death. But it was better that he should fall than Bennett.

London tried to run to Bennett. The creature, hovering above, its wings beating, dove at her, talons outstretched. London darted away.

"Don't kill her, idiot," snarled Fraser as he struggled to his feet.

The beast pulled back with a snarl. Whatever control Fraser had over the creature, it chafed at its restraints.

"Contain her!" Fraser barked.

It lunged at her, trying to herd her, and she dodged from side to side, protecting herself with her arms flung overhead. Waves of stench poured off of the creature, causing London's eyes to tear and her throat to close. Whatever unholy beast the Heirs had summoned, she could not imagine anything more foul. She felt its claws clutch at her, tearing the back of her shirtwaist, gouging into her skin. Her flesh burned.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Fraser face off against Bennett. Both men had their revolvers drawn, pointed at each other. A stalemate. She didn't doubt Bennett was an excellent shot. She'd seen the proof. But she could not let Fraser have even an opportunity to test his own marksmanship. Not against Bennett.

As the winged creature reared up, trying to corral her, London darted toward Fraser. His focus solely on Bennett, he didn't see her run at him. Summoning every remaining ounce of strength, she kicked Fraser's hand, knocking it high. He kept his grip on his revolver, but, when he squeezed the trigger in reaction, the shot went wide.

"b.i.t.c.h!" he yelped.

And then London was flying. Over the side of the cliff.

Bennett's arms wrapped around her like steel cables as they fell together through the air. Her stomach pitched up into her throat, her eyes filled with the pitiless blue sky as she watched the edge of the cliff grow smaller over Bennett's shoulder. A thought flashed through her mind-was Bennett so determined to keep them from the Heirs that he'd prefer suicide to capture?

"Hold tight to me!" Bennett shouted above the rushing wind.

She clutched at him like a lifeline. He fumbled for a moment at the side of the pack, then tugged hard on a dangling strap. The back panel of the pack flew off, and, with a metallic jangle, lengths of connected bra.s.s pipes unfolded then snapped into outstretched position. Silk fabric was strung between the pipes. As the fabric caught the air, it tautened with a snap.

Their freefall descent immediately slowed. London, clinging to Bennett like a vine, glanced around as they glided down in wide circles. She saw the caique far below them, and, close by, the Heirs' ship, belching smoke. Gunfire popped faintly as rounds volleyed between the caique and the steamship.