Free Chronicles of the Dragon Pirate by David Talon Page B

figures dropped out of the night sky. They hit the wood planks with a bang, and any cry of alarm I made was drowned out by the sailor’s cries as the soldiers gave a start, but then went stone still. They were Artifact golems, designed to look like women in full plate armor, their joints fully articulated but their eyes empty sockets in open faced helms. They had short wings which, I’d been told by Alfonzo, were fixed in place to give the air-golem that transported it a place to hold onto. One of the golems grabbed the silver wolf soldier by the throat while the other two held an Artifact blunderbuss in each hand, each one trained on the four soldiers. The sailors were ignored.
    The silver wolf soldier didn’t struggle. “What’s the meaning of this?”
    “The meaning,” the golem said without moving her articulated mouth, and I realized with a start the voice was Shadow-viper’s, “is that Captain Cholula is in a very foul mood.”
    An expression of fear crossed the soldier’s face before he got control of himself. “It was a miscalculation on Elder Sebastian’s part.”
    “Miscalculation? The explosive shells followed the captain halfway back to her ship. Karl was badly injured, but Red-dog’s an excellent healer and the mercenary should be on his feet in a few days. This is fortunate for you...because if he’d died, we would already be storming your ship, and you five would be running for your lives.”
    One of the red wolf soldiers, a man with a large gap in his teeth, hissed, “Sir Alberto, it’s the Sea-Witch!”
    I looked beyond them to where the galleon lay anchored. Close by, a black warship with sleek lines and no lights lit had snuck in behind her and sat in perfect position with the gun ports open and her cannons out. The silver wolf soldier turned his head in the golem’s grip, and swore, “Hell’s bells and buckets of blood!”
    Shadow-viper sounded amused. “There will be if Sebastian doesn’t recall you soon. She wants the boy secured, and she’s willing to let Sebastian’s little...miscalculation, be forgiven, if he will turn tail and run for home.”
    “Elder Sebastian’s no coward.”
    “Truly? In any event, I fear right now he has little choice. As Cholula likes to say, ‘when you have them by their naughty bits, men will dance to the tune you choose’.” The older sailor gave a snort of laughter, and the golem rotated its head in a way no mortal knight could’ve done. “It would seem there’s someone with spirit here. What’s your name?”
    The sailor’s humor evaporated like a tidal pool on a hot day. “It’s Mr. Bierson, mistress. I’m first mate on the merchantman, the ‘Queen Anne’s Regret’.”
    Shadow-viper’s voice sounded amused. “Mistress? I’m not called that very often. Come, Mr. Bierson, let’s play a game while we’re waiting for Sebastian to decide what to do.”
    Mr. Bierson’s expression became wary. “What sort of game, mistress?”
    The mouth of the woman-golem clicked as it opened wide. “You’re going to stick your finger in my mouth. Then I’m going to ask you questions, and if you answer them truthfully then you keep the finger. If you don’t,” and the mouth snapped shut, “then I keep the finger.”
    Mr. Bierson began to sweat as he shook his head. “Mistress, begging your pardon, but I saw blue flames inside your mouth, and I don’t want to be sticking my finger into something that’s going to burn.”
    “It’s ghost-fire,” Shadow-viper said with an amused chuckle. “It can’t hurt you; it’s what we use to animate golems. But it also animates dead flesh, so if you lie to me and I take your finger, when I pull it back out of my mouth it’ll writhe like a worm for a little while. It’s funny what unnerves humans; I’ve seen brave men who’d never break, cry like babes when their dead, rotted, body parts we cut off came after them.”
    Mr. Bierson stared at the golem in horror, as Sir Alberto said, “You don’t