Other crewmen were flocking to this side of the deck. Wiley's words had carried. They looked over and called out in surprise. Before long everyone up top was gabbing amongst themselves. Some of what Mordecai heard was quietly regretful. That wouldn't do. He clenched a fist atop the rail and turned, mouth open to order the crew back to their tasks. Then he stopped.
Isn't this just what I had railed against? He meant to leave. To take off, fly away and catch an aetherline, never looking back. Leaving Natasha behind him. She was an enemy now, and he was just...leaving her here. In some ridiculously contrived, dire situation from which she could never escape to cause him trouble again.
Oh. Oh no. That won't do at all.
One of the lizard-people stepped out of the temple mouth. It wore a shining golden headdress, obviously in some sort of commanding role. The creature pointed at Fengel and Natasha, and shouted something in its gibbering tongue to the guards. They leapt to obey, untying the captives and hauling them back inside.
Mordecai tapped his fingers on the rail, thinking.
The tromp of footsteps on the deck behind warned him. He turned to see Konrad, approaching him. The face of the aetherite was set and dour, his bushy blond beard outthrust. A long, ugly scryn-sting from the recent battle made him look even more ferocious. Others followed the aetherite and stood at his back, Reaver Jane and a small knot of several others. They looked defiant.
"Captain," said Konrad. "We should not leave Natasha behind so. We voted her down, yes. But not off the ship."
Mordecai smiled at him. "You know what, Konrad? I was thinking the same thing. See to the wounded, and prepare a number of ladders to go below. Reaver Jane, get that powder keg bomb Natasha wanted up here. Get it finished. I want those savages below us scattered." He faced them all, catching the gazes of those who hadn't approached him. "I may have erred, dropping the former captain below." He made a flippant gesture. "Something poorly done in the heat of the moment. But don't worry. We're going to go take care of Mrs. Blackheart. Maybe we can sort something out once we're back home."
The relief on their faces was palpable. Mordecai made a note of each and every one for later. For now he needed them all. For the trip back...well. Accidents happened, and so did executions. They scurried off to see to his orders. Mordecai watched them go, then turned back to gaze down at the temple.
I am not going to make the same mistakes.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The shining crystals she wore gave off no heat, but Lina's face was still flushed. "Do I have to do this?" she asked Rastalak.
"Chirr!" said Runt.
"You bear the accoutrements of the lost Voornenhai, the Great Ones. They are quite regal. I must revise my earlier statement. I believe this might work. You look to be one of their kind come again."
Lina shifted the pleated golden skirt at her hips. "The Great Ones could have done with a bit more modesty," she said darkly.
They stood in a long, vaulted hall. The walls were of the same smooth stone as the towering buildings that made up the majority of Yrinium. Niches were cut into the walls at either hand, each containing a strange artifact of alien construction. There were headdresses, bracelets, and other clothing. There were weapons like long spears, broad-bladed swords. And there were still stranger things whose purpose Lina could not identify; mechanical armatures shaped like men, covered in armor too fine and delicate to be worn by real people. Light came from a small, golden orb held in Rastalak's hands. He'd pulled it from one of the niches, then sang to the thing until it bloomed with golden illumination. He held it like a lantern as they walked through the old vault.
The Draykin had led her down beneath the ruin into the bowels of the earth. Through half-collapsed tunnels and bizarrely formed passageways, they had finally come to this secret place. Rastalak seemed to know it well. He regarded the objects within reverently, and performed a small ritual when removing objects that might serve to disguise her.
That was the plan, at least. The Draykin worshipped the old dwellers of the city as gods. Rastalak thought that if she dressed and acted as one, then maybe she could free her crewmates and steal the gemstone. All in all, it seemed a pretty weak plan, but they had to do something.
The lizard-creature gave her a golden headdress, bracelets, a wide, pleated skirt, and sandals. All were made from some deep-golden metal that was warm to the touch. The headdress was wide and studded with gemstones as well. She put them on obediently, the headdress flaring to light like Rastalak's little lamp as soon as she placed it on her hair. She felt funny, but the head covering was still only slightly warm to the touch, and the light did not obscure her vision. She went for more clothing, only to realize that she had nothing to cover her torso. Rastalak told her that the Voorn did not wear such things.