Free Beneath a Burning Sky (The Dawnhawk Trilogy Book 3) by Jonathon Burgess Page B

Fengel. “What are you doing in such disarray?”
    Michael Hockton turned his gaze at Fengel but seemed not to see him. The ex-soldier’s pupils were very wide.
    Lina turned to try and deflect some of the hostility. “We, ah, checked inside the outhouse, sir,” she said. “Found the spiders.” Allen punctuated the statement with a groan.
    “Nevertheless,” replied Fengel, not really speaking to her. “Other ships may allow such disarray, but so long as you remain with the Dawnhawk , you’ll comport yourself to a higher standard. Am I clear?”
    Michael Hockton frowned in venom-induced confusion. Then he spoke in a hollow, distant voice. “Yes?”
    “Good.” Fengel nodded in satisfaction, then turned back to face the mob at his back. “Now, everyone, listen up. We need eyes down at the Graveway Lagoon and the old fort there. If one of our own was helping these bastards, he’ll know that’s the only safe waterway into Haventown—and the closest route, even by airship. Phred! Did I see you lurking around? I know you’re not on my crew, but you and your friends know the jungle pathways better than most. If you could get moving, I’ll see if I can find someone to give you a lift once we finish rousing the other captains.”
    Phred was suntanned and shockingly hairy, an ex-pirate and local hunter who looked as hard as old oak. “Sure thing, Fengel,” he replied, pausing to run his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. “And can I say that you’re looking wonderfully rakish this evening?”
    “Why, thank you, Phred.” Lina’s captain peered at the group. “Geoffrey Lords? Go with him. I need Lucian here, but you’re a stealthy sort of fellow as well.”
    The red-haired, terrifying Dawnhawk’ s cook appeared. He nodded sharply, then grinned to reveal teeth filed down to a point.
    “Good. We’ve got until the morning to prepare. The Perinese are traditional to a fault, and naval doctrine holds that all engagements happen at dawn at the very earliest. So we’ve that much time. Now send word to the other captains; we’ll need people and materials carried to the Graveway fort, but to be honest, lads, I think we need to consider a back-up plan. Maybe even evac—”
    “Belay all that, Captain.” Lucian Thorne pushed his way through the crowd. The Dawnhawk’ s first mate looked disheveled, both from the fight as well as the errands he’d been dispatched upon. “Word’s gone out. Pirate King Blackheart is calling a town meeting. Everyone’s required to attend, captains especially. At the Bleeding Teeth, as usual. Natasha’s already there.”
    Everyone froze. They turned to Fengel, who paused to consider. “Well, then. We’d best make our way.”
    The group disbanded, moving in ones and twos towards Euron’s court. Captain Fengel held back, though, making a small gesture for Phred and his crewmen to remain. Lina gingerly rounded up a sopping Allen and a stiff, venom-shocked Michael, pressing them in tight with the others.
    “All right,” said Fengel, “to the Bleeding Teeth it is. But time is of the essence. Phred? I’d like you, if you would, to ignore what Lucian said and get on to the Graveway; that’s more important. Geoffrey, you too. Hockton? You’re not coming. Get you back up to the Skydocks. I had some of the lads round up all those Perinese corpses. With that woman Omari still walking around, you need to get them down to that Waterdock warehouse that Gunney Lome picked out before they start walking again. I suggest finding a wheelbarrow.”
    This seemed to penetrate the venom-induced stupor affecting the ex-soldier. Michael Hockton stared at the captain, mouth opening in protest. Fengel cut him short.
    “Come now, Mr. Hockton. No one likes a whiner . You’ve been given your orders—now get to them. The rest of you, come along. We’ve got places to be.”
    Lina winced. She tried to cast one last glance over her shoulder at Michael as they walked down the boardwalk, but Lucian