Chapter 10

  Confusion. Nausea. Fear. Pain. Pain. Pain.

  His eyes opened, and the horrors of what he had hoped had been a nightmare became reality for William Lancaster. He slowly pushed himself up from the deck, fighting the weight of his grief, and surveyed the horrors before him: his beloved, motionless on the deck in front of him, her eyes staring into nothing, a sacrificial lamb for his worthless life; his crew hung from the rigging, swaying gently with the ship’s slow movements, their throats slit as punishment for choosing to follow the wrong man; himself, alive and soaked in the blood of his dear wife, thick and sticky as it clung to his hands and clothes, his own punishment for daring to resist. How could this have happened? How could such a terrible thing have happened? Were they not all laughing and happy no more than a day ago? Did they not all have plans for their lives when they returned to shore? These thoughts circled his head, taunting and tormenting him as he stood in front of the carnage.

  “What am I to do now?” he sobbed weakly to himself. “I’ve lost my life. My love. My world. There’s no point in continuing any further.”

  An image of his daughter flashed through the canvas of his mind, and he felt another pang of loss. She was likely dead too. He dared not enter his cabin and discover what horrific things the pirates had done to his darling girl. She had been born no more than a month prior. Damn it all! Why had he not listened to his wife when she asked to stay ashore? Why had he been so stubborn and set on bringing them along for this trip? If only he had listened. If only he had made one different decision, none of this would have happened.

  His feet turned, and he began to move toward the taffrail. Without knowing how, he found himself looking into the ocean below him, the waves lapping gently against the side of the ship, a mockery of the chaos aboard. He extended his leg, prepared to take his final step and be reunited with his family. Then he heard it. Wait. What? Heard what? Had he heard something aside from the crashing waves and creaks of the rigging as bodies swung from them in the wind? Then it came again. It was faint, but there was something else here…and it was coming from his cabin! He quickly pulled his leg back in, descended back to the deck, and dashed up to the quarterdeck toward his cabin.

  Throwing wide the doors, the sound was unmistakable: crying. Crying! He heard crying! His darling daughter was still alive! He crossed the overturned room to the cubby he and his wife had constructed to protect their daughter from the tumultuousness of the sea. It wasn’t necessarily designed to be a hidden compartment, but as he looked at the door to the cubby now, he could see how, if she had been quiet, it could easily have been overlooked.

  He opened the door, and a ray of hope flooded his heart again. His daughter, safe and sound, lay crying in the cupboard. He picked her up and began soothing her. As she quieted down, a thought occurred that sank him back into the pit of despair he had just started to climb out of: How was he going to get her home?

  He sank to his knees, his child in his arms. He grasped her tightly as he began sobbing again. Just another cruelty this life was throwing at him. Take everything from him. Then, as he was on the verge of achieving peace, give him his daughter back, only to force him to watch her starve to death in front of his eyes. For what other future awaited him now? He was four days out to sea. He was alone. Even if he could somehow manage to sail back to shore by himself, his daughter wouldn’t be able to survive the time it took to get back.

  He continued to sob. As he sobbed, he despaired. As he despaired, he hated. As he hated, he seethed. Before he knew it, he was screaming into the air, spewing obscenities and cursing whatever being had decided this was the fate he deserved. He began vowing vengeance: vengeance to the being, vengeance to the world, and vengeance to the pirate who took everything away from him. It was during one of these strings of vengeance swearing that he heard the creak of the door to his cabin swinging open.

  He looked up to find his wife standing in the doorway. “L…Laura?” he stammered out, spittle still falling from his lips, as she looked at him. “H…How?”

  He couldn’t believe it. His wife was there; right in front of him, alive. But she was different. Her soft, waved red hair blew gently in the breeze, free of the blood that soaked it. Her neck, destroyed by the pirate captain’s blade, was mended, her freckled skin free of any wound. Her white blouse and baggy brown breeches were completely devoid of the blood that had stained them before.

  She smiled sweetly at him and stepped into the cabin. “Hello, Will.”

  There was no mistaking it, that was her voice. Had he gone mad? “Laura? What happened? How are you like this?” he managed to say without stammering.

  “We don’t carry the wounds from this life with us to the next, darling,” she said.

  “So, then, you’re still…” he began.

  She nodded, a solemn but peaceful look on her calm face. “But despair not, for we can still be together. But let us not speak of that for now. Let us instead go home.”

  At that, she turned and walked back out to the quarterdeck. William put his daughter back in her bed and stepped outside. The bodies were gone! As was his wife. The deck where the blood had pooled was still stained, but aside from the empty ship, there was no sign of the previous tragedy anywhere.

  He was still feeling hollow, but the thought of seeing his wife again brought him some comfort. He looked around to see where she had gone, but found nothing. There was no sign of her anywhere on the ship. He did notice, however, that the sails and rigging were tied perfectly for sailing. He made his way to the helm and gripped its handle. At once, he felt the wheel move as if on its own accord. He quickly let go. The wheel stopped. He tentatively reached out his hand and grasped the handle once more, and the wheel and ship began to turn around as wind filled her sails perfectly.

  ~~

  Four days later, William found himself pulling into the harbor at Gravenfair. The last four days had been a blur, and he was still trying to wrap his head around it all. He had noted a few interesting developments, though, over this time.

  For starters, he noticed that so long as he manned the helm, the ship sailed and functioned as though she had a full crew aboard. Sails would furl and unfurl at a thought or change their facing depending on the weather. The ship’s wheel also seemed to know where to go, turning in his hand and guiding him back home. However, this was only when he grasped the helm. The moment he let go, the ship was empty once more.

  Secondly, he had not really seen or spoken with his wife again since that initial encounter. He thought he had caught glimpses of her here and there in his periphery, but as soon as he fixed his gaze on her location, she was gone, the echo of her soft laughter drifting away on the wind. Still, he felt her presence, a comforting shadow that kept him moving forward.

  Finally, his daughter had somehow managed to survive the trip. He would hear her cry on occasion and attempt to console her. As he made his way to the captain’s cabin, however, he would find the door to be closed and locked. When he attempted to peer through the opaque glass, he thought he could see the outline of his dear Laura sitting at the table. It was then he would hear her humming. Shortly after this, the baby would quiet down. When he would visit the cabin later, after the humming had ceased, he would find his daughter sleeping peacefully with a full belly.

  In all, he felt he should be disturbed by these findings, but he couldn’t bring himself to find anything other than comfort. Just the presence of his wife, even in the little bit he got, was enough to convince him this was a blessing for his troubles. Now that he had found his way safely back home, he would begin his preparations for what came next.

  On the pier, the harbourmaster greeted him. After a short, vague, and edited discussion about the horrors he had witnessed during his trip, the harbourmaster, eyes brimming with tears, said, “Well, I’m certainly sorry for your loss, Mr. Lancaster. Your wife and crew were good people. I will make sure you get the information you need to alert the families of your crew. In the meantime, are you in need of any care or require any repairs to your ship? If you are not in any state to think on such things, please do not feel as though you need answer me now. You are free to take all the time you need.”

  “Thank you, Henry,” he responded. “I’ll make my way to the families I know while you gather the information. And yes, I actually do require some work to be done. There are stains on the deck. Dark ones. I need you to get your boys to stain the rest of my ship that color.”

  “The rest of your ship, sir?” the harbourmaster asked, his tone confused as his brow furrowed at the captain. “Surely you mean you wish us to remove the stains, yes?”

  “I do not,” William replied. “It may sound strange, but I want the rest of my ship to be the color of those stains on the deck. I’d also like her to be outfitted with cannons on the first two levels below deck. Lighter cannons on the first, heavier cannons on the second. I’d also like her to have a few bow chasers and stern chasers. How long do you think it’ll take for your boys to do that?”

  The harbourmaster stood aghast. “That’s an awful lot of cannons, sir. I’m sure you would only need–”

  “What I need, sir,” William stated, cutting off the harbourmaster as his temper rose, “are the modifications I just requested of you so that I don’t have to lose an entire crew again. Now, how long will it take?”

  “W…We…Well,” the harbourmaster stammered, surprised by William’s sudden burst of outrage, “with the careening, cleaning, and staining of the ship, and the procurement and outfitting of cannons, I’d say yo…you’re looking at…at least two months.”

  “Excellent. Start your boys on it today,” William said as he turned and started walking down the pier. “I always insure my shipments. I’ll have the money for you by the time you finish.”

  ~~

  “Over the course of the next month, Captain Lanc…” the sound of a cleared throat filled the chamber. The Matriarch paused, “Yes, Captain?” she asked, irritation light in her voice at the interruption.

  “Yes. Sorry,” Jonathon began, a placating smile forming on his face. “It’s just, normally, I would be all for hearing every little detail about the ship…but I can’t help but notice that your story is focusing a lot more on more of the very detailed portions of Billy’s life immediately following his wife’s death. And, as you said, he terrorized the seas for forty years, sooo…” He trailed off for a moment. “Not that you don’t weave a fascinating tale, of course!” he added quickly, seeing The Matriarch’s unamused face. “You’re amazing! Truly! I actually felt like I was there…but I was wondering if we might not be able to, perhaps, take a larger view of the story?”

  The Matriarch gave a disapproving look, “As you wish, boy. I assumed you would enjoy hearing so much given your fascination with the ship, but I will ‘take a larger view.’ Now, where was I? Oh, yes.

  “Over the course of the next month, Captain Lancaster outfitted his ship, hired a new crew, and renamed his ship. He also decided to leave his daughter with his wife’s parents while he was out at sea. He swore he would return when he had brought their daughter’s killer to justice. He assumed that, with the help of his newly sentient vessel, he would quickly find the pirate captain who caused him so much pain and rain vengeance down upon him. However, as he placed his hand on the helm, the wheel did not move. The rigging remained silent. She remained silent.

  “And so, Captain Lancaster, or Captain Billy as he was having his newly hired crew call him now, set out with his crew to search for and destroy the pirate captain. However, he found little success, and eventually, he found that the measly amount of gold that remained from his insurance would not be enough to keep his new crew hired for much longer. Considering the nature of his task, he had hired individuals from a seedier portion of Silvercove Harbor than usual. Help there was cheap and filled with those who would be okay with the venture he had in mind, but they would not work for free. If Captain Billy was to keep them on, he would need to find money, fast. He had no time to run one of his old trade routes; he needed something quick. And so, he turned to the only option he saw for quick gold: piracy. Not just ordinary piracy, though. He did not want to become like the one who took everything from him. Besides, he was hunting a pirate, and what better way to find a pirate than to pose as a merchant vessel?

  So he did. For the next few weeks, Captain Billy would float in the area near where he had been ambushed, baiting pirates to attack. Many fell for his ruse, but none were the pirate captain he sought. Still, with each attack, he would kill the captain and crew of each ship, saving however many he needed to replace the crew he had lost, take their cargo, and scuttle the ships. Any crew who backtalked or second-guessed their captain found themselves hung from the rigging, their throats slit, swinging in the wind until Billy’s tempered rage would deem it time for them to be taken down. So, while his crew were initially apprehensive about attacking other pirates, his intimidating appearance and brutality toward those that opposed him kept them in order.

  “During this time, the captain’s rage and anger and brutality continued to grow, along with his impatience. He continued to attack pirate vessels; however, he had also begun attacking trading ships as well, convinced that the pirate captain was trying to hide from him. Those he killed were no longer innocent in his eyes. All were part of the reason he had not found his quarry, all were helping hide the pirate captain from him, and he showed them no mercy. But, just as rage and cruelty grew in his heart, so too did despair begin creeping back into the corners of his mind. What if he was unable to find the pirate captain? More importantly, what if he was never able to see his wife again? Since he had started his voyage, he had not seen any signs of his wife aboard the ship as he had before. On occasion, when he had had too much to drink, he would think he saw a figure standing in the corner of his cabin, or hear the soft, gentle laugh of his wife. But every time he would turn to look, he would find nothing.

  “On one such night, after six months at sea, Billy’s despair overcame him. He sat, sobbing in his cabin, pleading to whatever had brought his wife to him the first time to bring her back again. For her to help him find her killer. For her to return so that they could be together. If whatever it was could do that for him, he would give them anything they asked. Suddenly, he heard the creak of his door opening as someone entered his cabin. His rage ignited as he prepared to kill whichever crew member had dared enter his cabin unannounced. He froze as he turned to see his wife standing in the doorway.

  “The following day, Captain Billy found the pirate captain. It is said that his crew would tell stories of how they had never before heard so much screaming come from a single individual. How they had never known a man could survive so long under such pain and duress. And, for those who had cleaned the captain’s cabin afterward, how they had never known the human body was capable of producing so much blood.

  “Following Captain Billy’s completed vengeance, stories of a ship that would sail on its own, save for its captain who manned the helm, began to spread throughout the sea. An unmanned ship that would pursue, fire upon, and sail right up to you without seemingly a single person aboard. As the ship came close enough to almost touch, an entire crew would burst out from the lower decks and lay waste to those in its path. The crew of The Spectre lived well, for a time, making port regularly to spend their riches. And Captain Billy was able to be reunited with his wife.

  “One night, about a year into The Spectre’s reign of terror, Captain Billy’s wife approached him. She told him she missed their child and wished to see her daughter again. She asked him to bring their daughter to her so that they could all be reunited again. He agreed to this but told her he wanted to wait until the child turned twenty before bringing her back onboard. And so it was that for the next two decades, The Spectre would continue to terrorize the seas, eventually moving away from its original ambush site and sailing all across The Stern Sea, sometimes even outside of it.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “However, over that time, the captain experienced some concerning things. On occasion, he would wake in the middle of the night and see a shadowed figure whose head reached the almost ten-foot ceiling of his cabin, hunched and staring at him from the corner. When he would call out to it or bring a light to it, he would find the corner to be empty.

  “He also became plagued with terrible night terrors that he noticed would increase in frequency whenever he angered his wife. Crew members would report waking up in the crow’s nest or perched precariously atop the bowsprit. And then, there were the deaths. He was not sure whether it was the drunken and clumsy nature of the crew he hired or something more, but he found that his ship had terrible misfortune with accidents while out at sea. Slipping on the deck and cracking their skull on a cannon, losing their footing while climbing the main mast to the crow’s nest and falling to their death, or simply falling asleep one night in their hammock and being found mangled and wedged in the head when the sailors would go to relieve themselves in the morning.

  “Finally, on the day of their child’s twentieth birthday, Captain Billy’s wife came to him again and urged him to bring their daughter to her. This time, he refused. He told her he did not wish for her to be brought into this life. The wife became angry. The two argued, each refusing to give ground on their stances. After realizing the captain had no intent on changing his mind on the matter, the wife became still.

  As the captain approached her, his arm outstretched, wishing to resolve their dispute, his wife’s own arm twisted backward and cracked. The sound of bones snapping and cracking filled the cabin as the woman twisted and contorted in impossible ways, the skin of her limbs stretching and twisting in unnatural and nightmarish ways; her figure slowly morphing into an inhuman form. As the captain watched her body sink lower and lower to the deck, he saw something form on her lips: fingers. The fingers gave way to a hand. The hand to an arm. The arm to a head. Then a body. Then legs. Slowly, the ten-foot-tall figure that the captain had seen watching him at night crawled out through his wife’s mouth as if sliding out of a pair of breeches, its blackened skin leathery and yet seemingly made of shadows. With piercing orange eyes that burned like embers and a twisted smile, it stared down at the captain. It was at this time that Captain Billy truly understood what horror he had made a deal with all those years ago.

  “The entity told Captain Billy that it had given him what he wanted and that the captain was to offer up his daughter’s soul to it as the payment they agreed upon. The captain, though terrified, had become quite fearless in his years at sea, and his rage had done nothing but grow in that time. Though he was indeed horrified at what stood before him, he balked at the entity and told it it would get nothing from him, for he knew the ship could not sail unless he was manning the helm. The entity smiled a smile that sent a shiver through the captain’s spine and told him it had learned much in their time together. It warned him that death was not the worst thing it could do to him. Still, the captain remained indignant.

  “Eventually, the entity realized that the captain was right. It could kill everyone aboard the ship, but unless Billy manned the helm, it would be stuck. The entity feigned defeat, and for the next twenty years, it would continue to serve the captain in his ventures. During this time, however, it harnessed the souls of those that were slain on its deck to increase its own power. Captain Billy, noticing the entity’s actions and subsequent increase in power, eventually stopped going ashore, refusing to replenish his diminishing crew. One by one, the entity picked off the remaining members of his crew until only it and Captain Billy remained. Finally, when it was clear that the captain would rather die at sea than return to shore and supply it with more souls to feed on, it confronted him for a final time.

  The entity told Billy that his time was up. That it had spent the last twenty years amassing its power. All it had to do was kill the ship’s current captain, and it would have gained the power it needed to be able to operate the vessel on its own. It would be reliant on mortals no longer. But, the entity bargained, if the captain were to uphold his original end of the bargain and offer up the soul of his daughter, it would leave him alone and allow him to live out his years in comfort and luxury.

  “Captain Billy’s legendary rage flared, and he lashed out at the creature. He had four decades of experience and quickly pushed the creature outside of the captain’s cabin onto the quarterdeck of the ship and into the rain. He slashed and cut and pushed with all the skill he had acquired in his career. He would put the creature down if it was the last thing he did. He had forced the creature against the taffrails when he noticed something truly terrifying: the creature was smiling. In an instant, Captain Billy’s body froze mid-swing. His legs lifted from the deck, and he felt his arms and legs being pulled as his back arched backward from the force. His head snapped back violently, and he found himself looking up into the entity’s eyes. The entity gave him one more sadistic, satisfied smile, and the captain’s body broke itself multiple times as he crumpled into a ball and fell to the floor of the deck.

  “Triumphant, the entity roared into the night. It quickly focused its power on the helm, determined to direct the vessel on its own. However, try as it might, it was unable to control any element of the vessel. Billy had been right; it needed him to captain it. Anguished, the creature screamed out, cursed to remain trapped aboard a vessel it could not control.”

  ~~

  The Matriarch, having completed her tale, said, “Now you know the events that led to the current fate of The Spectre. Now, I ask you again, do you still wish to pursue this fool’s venture?”

  Jonathon sat, silently processing the new information he had received from The Matriarch. He had to admit, the “full” story was much more than he had ever anticipated. With how fantastical it was, he was admittedly surprised that it wasn’t more well known. Of course, that was if The Matriarch’s version was the full story. Who knows how their tribal legends and second hand recountings had changed or twisted the story over time. He had just thought it himself, if this truly was the full story, he would have heard it by now. These weren’t minor details that were simply lost with time.

  After a few minutes, he said, “Matriarch, ma’am, I understand your apprehension based on the story you’ve told me, but do you really expect me to believe that The Spectre is cursed–or haunted–by the ghost of Billy’s dead wife?”

  “No, I do not, child,” she replied. “I expect you to believe that Captain Lancaster was tricked by an inhuman spirit. There are no such things as ghosts. There are, however, inhuman spirits that prey on the weakness of mortal minds, appearing to us in the form of lost loved ones. Such a spirit, drawn to the slaughter that occurred aboard The Spectre that fateful day, appeared before Captain Lancaster and fooled him into believing it was his wife in an attempt to gain a foothold in this realm. When it could not do so through the newborn child, whose soul it hoped to be offered by the captain, it attempted to do so through the vessel itself. That is why the ship has not been seen in all this time, and that is why none must pursue it. The evil on that ship must stay on that ship, lest it be released on our world.”

  Jonathon smiled as kindly as he could, trying his best to withhold his own laughter at the woman’s superstition, and said, “I understand how scary such a tale sounds, but I’ve yet to see anything in this world that would lead me to believe that such a being could exist. Perhaps the story has been twisted throughout the years. Perhaps what was once a ‘shadow’ that attached itself to the captain as a sign of his grief slowly evolved into a full monster that consumed him in the end. It would not be the first time such an exaggeration occurred in stories such as these.”

  The Matriarch continued to look disappointed in Jonathon’s responses. She sighed, “Very well. I was hoping to avoid this, but you leave me no choice. You say you have yet to see anything that would lead you to believe our tale? Then I will take you to the piece we have recently acquired. It is set to be destroyed at week’s end, but perhaps it will serve to prove to you the danger of your quest.”

  Jonathon’s ears perked so fast he thought they would pull him to his feet. “The piece? You’re going to take me to the piece?”

  “I am, child,” The Matriarch replied. “Now, follow me. But just you.”

  Cassie looked as though she were going to object, but Jonathon held up a hand, glancing at her before returning his gaze to The Matriarch. “That’s fine. They can wait for me back at our tents.”

  The Matriarch smiled and said, “I have a better idea. Instead of waiting around doing nothing, why not make themselves useful and help our hunters prepare for the feast tonight.”

  “Feast?” Dryden said before he could remember his instruction to remain silent.

  “Indeed, child, a feast. We were planning to have one in celebration of the piece’s destruction, but with the arrival of so many guests, we decided to move the feast up a bit. Now, I will take your captain with me. You all see if you can make yourselves useful down below. We will join you in time.”

  With that, The Matriarch began walking towards a door at the back side of the room. Jonathon nodded to Cassie and followed The Matriarch towards the door.

  He couldn’t believe it, the rumor had been true, they really did have a piece of the ship! Not only that, she was taking him to see it! Based on the way she was talking, he doubted she was going to simply give the piece to him. I mean, what was it she said? Destroy it? They couldn’t really believe that strongly in such a tale, could they? He had never been as superstitious as most pirates tended to be, but still, this tale of spirits and curses just didn’t make sense. Now, if the story involved Billy angering the sea, then maybe he’d be concerned, but a ghost? Or, excuse me, an inhuman spirit? Absurd.

  But it didn’t matter what he believed. It mattered what they believed, and they believed in the spirit. They also apparently believed in destroying any surviving piece of The Spectre, which left only one option: if he wanted that piece, he was going to have to steal it. And if he was going to steal it, he was going to need to pay attention. How many turns had they taken? Two? Yes, two. A right at the end of the hallway after the door, and a left at the second intersection after that.

  Jonathon continued to follow The Matriarch down the labyrinthine corridors, the echo of their footsteps swallowed by the heavy silence. The walls, cold and rough under his fingertips, seemed to pulse with ancient energy, each turn taking them deeper into the heart of the ziggurat.

  Despite trying to keep all of his focus on remembering the path to the treasure, he couldn't help but admire the complexity of the structure. For starters, he had been dead wrong about the top room being the only part of the ziggurat. These tunnels were proof of that. They had already passed numerous intersections with turn-offs at each one. Now, as they reached the end of a particularly long and winding downhill hallway, they came out into a large, domed room. While it was designed very much the same way as the room above them, this room was at least half again larger than the one above. The walls were all lined with scrolls and books, and the room itself was filled with many tables and chairs. It was a library. Wait, a library? What sort of library would these people have? It wasn’t as if they communicated with the outside world; could they really have so much to say about themselves? Of course, they apparently had enough contact to obtain a piece of The Spectre, and to somehow know more of the story than anyone he had ever met, so maybe they had more contact with the outside world than he originally thought. They passed through the library and exited out the left side of the room, the second door from the right he noted, and continued their downhill trek.

  After what seemed like half an hour of walking, The Matriarch came to a halt in front of a door at the end of one of the ziggurat’s many hallways. Two very intimidating Banshees stood guard on either side. The Matriarch turned to Jonathon, the top half of her face obscured in the torchlight. “This is it, boy. The piece you seek is beyond this door. Know this before you enter, however: you will not be leaving with this piece. Is that clear?”

  Jonathon mustered up as much of a respectful attitude as he could and said, “I understand, ma’am. You are showing me this as a means to prove the existence of your spirit. I will respect the wishes and customs of your tribe.”

  She smiled before returning to her stern gaze. “Good. Now, prepare yourself.”

  She grabbed the torch from the sconce on the wall and pushed the door to the room open. He briefly wondered why such a room would be unlocked, but then glanced again at the Banshees and figured he knew why.

  The Matriarch entered the room in front of him, and Jonathon saw her shiver. It was colder down here than outside to be sure, but he didn’t think it had gotten that cold. Perhaps it was just her age.

  He stepped through the door and realized what The Matriarch had shivered from. The room was easily ten degrees colder than it had been outside. Did they really keep the door to this room closed for that long? They continued into the room, and Jonathon realized he was able to see his breath! After a few moments, they stopped in front of a table, and Jonathon saw it: a compass.

  “Behold, boy, your fabled piece of The Spectre,” The Matriarch said, clearly uncomfortable in this room. “Are you able to feel the truth behind the story now?”

  He looked at the compass. It was old, to be sure. Possibly old enough to have existed back during Billy’s time. He glanced quickly at his own compass and noticed with a thrill that the compass was not pointing north! Looking at the inside of the top of the compass, he noticed a small mirror. Out of sheer curiosity and thrill for seeing an actual piece of The Spectre, he bent down to look into it. His reflection, not easy to make out in the torchlight, was faded by the age of the glass. As he turned his head and moved to try to see if he could get a better view of himself in the mirror, he noticed someone standing in the doorway behind them. Quickly, he turned to see who it was.

  He found no one.

  The Matriarch, still shivering from the cold and visibly uncomfortable, looked at him questioningly, “What is it, child?”

  “I thought one of your guards was coming in through the door. It startled me,” he replied.

  “Oh, no, child,” she replied, perplexed by Jonathon’s comment. “They are instructed to never enter this room while a piece resides in it. Nor would they ever desire to.”

  She shifted again as Jonathon looked around at the corners of the room. “You may need to replace that torch, ma’am,” he said. “It’s not even burning bright enough to light the edges of this room.”

  “It is not the torch that is the problem, boy,” she said condescendingly. “Come, you have seen the piece, and we have both been in its presence for too long. Hopefully, you now understand why we cannot allow such a piece to reenter the world.”

  He still had no idea what the old woman was on about, but a little placation couldn’t hurt. “I do, ma’am. I appreciate you taking the time to show me the errors of my ways. I see now that my life’s dream has been a fool’s errand. I will pursue this folly no longer.” He focused on keeping his voice steady, being careful to mask the flutter of excitement coursing through him. He could feel a plan already forming in his mind.

  The Matriarch gave him a skeptical look but nodded, “Then let us leave this place and return you to your crew. The feast should be starting soon!"