‘Reckon he’ll figure it out,’ said Silo, and then left, sliding the door closed behind him.
For the next half hour Frey flurried about the Ketty Jay in a panic. He showered in the communal bathroom next to the head, faffed about with his hair for a while and pulled on some clothes that looked suitably un-thought-about. Malvery scowled at him as he hurried down towards the cargo bay. The doc was in the grip of a mind-shattering hangover, but he knew what Frey was up to. The whole crew had heard by now.
Well, damn what he thinks. Damn what any of them think. We’re here now.
By the time he left the Ketty Jay, he was geared up for the confrontation to come. Trinica had heard of his arrival and sought him out, but that didn’t mean she bore him any tender feeling. Likely she was ready for a fight, so he would be too. He couldn’t imagine what he’d say to her, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it needed to be done.
It was late afternoon when he emerged. The sun beat down and the air was thick and humid. Balomon Crund waited in the clearing next to a tiny shuttle that was only big enough for four people at most. He was a short, ugly man with a scarred neck and dark, thatchy hair that hadn’t seen soap in a couple of decades. He sneered at Frey as he arrived.
‘You took your time,’ he said. His expression conveyed what he thought of Frey’s rakishly unkempt attire.
‘You can’t rush perfection,’ said Frey breezily, and flicked an imaginary bit of lint off his shoulder. Crund rolled his eyes, climbed into the pilot’s seat and didn’t say another word.
They took off and flew away over the grasping tangle of trees. Below, he caught glimpses of the clearings which made up the Awakener base, but even from close by they were well concealed amid the foliage. There were no large craft in the air and he could only see one other in the sky at all, which was a shuttle like the one he was riding in.
Ahead of them a low wide island rose out of the swamp. Crund steered for it and put them down in a glade on its southern slope. Frey could see nobody about.
‘The Cap’n will meet you here,’ Crund said. ‘I’ll be back in an hour.’
Frey got out. Crund pulled the door shut behind him and took off, leaving him behind.
Frey was slightly disconcerted. He’d assumed he’d be taken to the Delirium Trigger to meet Trinica in her cabin. Instead he found himself in a pretty glade surrounded by lush green jungle. The grass sloped down towards the edge of a small lake which nosed out from beneath the trees, surrounded by rocks and rushes. Brightly coloured dragonflies hung in the air, and somewhere a chorus of frogs were burping away merrily to themselves.
Well, Frey thought. At least it’s nice here.
With nothing to do but wait, he wandered down towards the lakeside, looking for a suitable spot to perch. Halfway down he heard a familiar voice.
‘Darian Frey,’ she said.
It was Trinica, but not the one he was expecting. This was not the dread pirate Trinica with the white face and the black eyes and the torn hair, like a sickened ghoul from some delirious hallucination. This was his Trinica, the Trinica of old. She was still wearing the black outfit and boots that she wore on the Delirium Trigger, but she’d removed her fearsome make-up. That blonde hair was still short but it was longer than he’d ever seen it.
Just the sight of her locked up his senses and, for a moment, he simply stared.
‘Am I going to have to kill you to get you off my tail?’ she asked, as she walked out of the trees.
‘Uh. .’ said Darian. ‘Yeah, pretty much.’
She was smiling. She’d come without her defences up, without the shield of make-up and artifice that she used to deceive everyone else. She’d come as he wanted her.
Gradually, it dawned on him that he might not be in for a fight after all.
‘I can see that’s what it’s going to take,’ she said. She stopped in front of him, looked up into his face. ‘What happened to the layabout boy I used to know? The one who drove my father mad because he was always late on haulage runs?’
‘I’m still kind of a layabout,’ Frey said with a grin. ‘Wait, was this whole thing just some plan of yours to instil some ambition in me?’
‘Yes, Darian,’ she said, gently sarcastic. ‘Because the whole world revolves around you.’
‘Well, who else would it revolve around?’
He wanted to touch her, but he didn’t dare. Just seeing her made his chest go light. The three months they’d been apart seemed an age; his search for her felt like an epic. And now here she was, and she actually seemed happy to see him. It was more than he could have hoped for.
‘You look beautiful this way,’ he said, because he had to. The thought was so strong that it wouldn’t be contained.
It was clumsy, and he expected a rebuff, or at least a jibe. She gave none. ‘Well, I’d have dressed more appropriately, but I can’t be away for long,’ she said.
‘That outfit actually looks pretty good on you, without all that shit on your face,’ Frey said.
She laughed. ‘You’ve a silver tongue, Darian. But your compliments need work.’
She led him to a smooth rock at the edge of the lake. There they settled themselves and looked out across the water. The surface was busy with midges, glowing as they were caught in the glare of the sun. Brilliant motes of golden light appeared and disappeared in a frantic dance.
They sat together in contented silence for a while. Frey was fine with that. He feared to break the spell that had brought her here, as if one wrong word would turn her into the chill ghost that had haunted him these past years. But to be so close to her and not to know her mind was hard for him, so in the end he had to speak.
‘How’s your war going?’ he asked.
She stirred, almost surprised, as if his voice had brought her out of deep contemplation. ‘Well enough. Yours?’
‘Not so great. The Century Knights think I’m a traitor, I lost Crake, and Malvery’s going to mutiny as soon as his hangover clears.’
‘You lost Crake?’
‘Literally lost. We had an argument, he stormed off and I couldn’t find him before we had to bail out. He’s probably okay, though. Safer than he’d have been with me, at any rate.’ He thought of Prognosticator Garin, and wondered what would have happened if Crake had been on board. Frey’s hasty plan might well have got him hanged, and the rest of them too. Frey wasn’t the only person on the crew to have worked that out.
But he wasn’t here, Frey told himself. Be grateful for that.
Trinica sensed something of his thoughts. ‘It’s difficult to be a captain and a friend,’ she said. ‘Usually they want you to be one or the other.’
Frey made a neutral noise. ‘It’ll be better now, anyway.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we found you. At least they can tell themselves that. Rot knows what would’ve happened if this had been a wild-goose chase.’
‘Ah, I see. It seems that neither of us are good for each other’s crews.’
He opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. She was right, of course. His single-minded pursuit of her was driving wedges between the crew, and Frey’s mere presence undermined Trinica’s authority among the cutthroats she led.
Her crew knew her as a tyrant, a cruel goddess to be worshipped and obeyed, distant and untouchable. That was what she’d made herself; that was how she kept them in line. They were crude men who respected brute strength. They wouldn’t let themselves be led by a woman otherwise.
But where Frey was concerned, she was not as ruthless as they demanded. Frey had killed many of her crew, and yet later they found themselves risking their lives to help him. Several of them had died on his behalf. That was what tore them apart the last time.