“The mate blown off the wheel was Shales’s kin?” Gavin guessed.
“Sister. He’s been following me since. Found me at a bunkhouse in Wiwurgh. Started a fight. I busted out half his teeth. Found me at a whorehouse in Smussato. Challenged me to a duel. I suggested pistols. He said swords. I left him with a dozen cuts and a broken hand. Found me at a tavern in Odess. Challenged me to a duel again. I stickulated that we fire pistols from forty paces. He missed. I shot him in the groin. Winged him, but never heard if I unmanned him or not. He lived, so it can’t have been bad, but I saw blood. Thought that would put him off finally.”
You thought castrating a man would stop his quest for vengeance?
“He follows me now. I keep enough distance to taunt him. To let him think he’ll catch me, if he just gets the wind right, or if I make one mistake. Not sure how he motivates his crew. Imagine they’ll mutiny someday.”
“So you’re letting a lethal problem fester because … why? Because you’re bored?” That Gunner hadn’t killed his pursuer either said Gunner was a better man than Gavin had thought, or a far, far worse one.
“Gunner likes that word. What’s that mean?”
Which … oh, fester. “Get worse. Like a wound that gets gangrene or leaks pus.”
“Knew it was a good one. You’re a smart man, Prism. Festure.”
“Fester,” Gavin said before he could stop himself.
Murder passed across Gunner’s face in half a second, then departed. “Fester,” he said carefully. “What would your father do if I sent him your eyes?”
Gavin suppressed a quick stab of revulsion and fear. “That depends.”
“Pray tell.”
“He would doubtless make some public expression of grief. That would be a mummer’s show I should be sorry to miss. He’ll come after you regardless, but you tell me, are my eyes still prismatic?”
Gunner’s fist came out of nowhere, crushing the side of Gavin’s face. Unable to defend himself in his chains, on his knees, Gavin crashed heavily to the deck. He heard a mechanical sound and looked up, blood filling his mouth, to see Gunner had the musket-sword loaded, cocked, and pointed at Gavin’s head.
“You mock me?” Gunner asked.
What? “My eyes,” Gavin said. “Do they look like prisms? Do they reflect light anymore?”
“No, plain blue,” Gunner said, staring down the barrel. “Ah, prismic. Right. ’Pologies.” He hoisted up the gun. “Prismic?”
“That’s right,” Gavin said.
“Prismic?”
“Prismatic,” Gavin admitted.
“Prismatic. That’s right. Your eyes did used to be all prismatic. If Gunner popped ’em and sent ’em to Papa, he’d think that I don’t have his boy after all. Looks like you keeps your peepers. ’Course, I could pop one out. Just because.”
Karris, could you please come and save my ass? While there’s ass left to save, please? “You know, Gunner, I like you a lot. But you frighten me.”
Gunner smiled big, and the danger passed. He looked out at the sea again.
Gavin thought to speak, then thought better of it. Gunner was pensive. Let him think.
“A great musket and an impossible task,” he said after a long minute.
“Hmm?”
“That’s what I want. That’s all.” He looked at the musket-sword he’d pulled from Gavin’s side, somehow without killing him. “I used to want to make the perfect musket. This destroyed that for me. I can never make one this good. I used to want to shoot the Everdark Gates. This ship has destroyed that for me. It’s all been done.” He stomped on the deck. “Gunner was born too late. The last impossible task in this world, he accomplished in his youth.”
He sank into himself, the bright sun no longer penetrating his darkness.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Gavin said. “There are a dozen challenges worthy—”
The butt of the musket flashed out, slamming into Gavin’s stomach and knocking his wind away.
“Do not think to placard me, Guile. I’m no child to be twisted round your twosies. Take him below!” he roared. “Now! Before Gunner blows off the head of our prize!”
Chapter 19
Even as Teia’s feet beat the paving stones, her mind locked up. She was like an animal. She got to a narrow intersection in the alley, and realized she had the bloody knife still in her hands. She skidded to a stop, turned, and flung the knife down the alley, then turned and went the other direction. The ringing of the steel on the stones felt like another alarum bell. She scrubbed her face with a sleeve. It came away bloody.