The Great Unravel, page 24
part #3 of Riddle in Ruby Series
Ruby frowned slightly. “She was a traitor to you.”
He shrugged and sighed. “Stopping this . . . event washes away all manner of sins, I think.”
Ruby nodded. “Is this the end of the war, do you think? Or just the Swede?”
“I wager that the carnage in the city will stop the crown’s lust for war, at least for a while. Who can say if the French will follow their lead?”
They watched the fires for a while.
Ruby straightened. It was time, she thought. “Henry?”
“Yes, Ruby?” Henry called back from the front of the skiff.
“Are we far enough away?”
“I think so.”
Given a bit more time and the Swede’s laboratory, Henry had crafted a better version of his fuse, one that they could set off from far away. It had a button. Ruby pushed it.
The Benzene Yards erupted in light. The walls turned white, then to ash. The gray flecks drifted neatly down into the hole cut into the docks, as if the whole thing had never been.
Rool cleared his throat. “You have a talent for this sort of thing, young man.”
Henry blushed. “It’s really only the few hundred tons of sparkstones.”
“Ruby!” Athena called from the prow. She was pointing at something, coming at them out of the mist.
It was a figurehead.
Fat Maggie.
The Thrift.
The refugees were taken aboard a strange jabberwock of the Thrift, half its old burned-out self, half a steaming, modern mechanism of gears and chem. At the rails, battered and torn, stood Wayland Teach and Gwath, and they lifted Ruby into their arms.
She searched the deck behind them. So many familiar faces, but one was missing.
Ruby looked back at Wayland, the first father she had known. “Is she—”
He nodded, stricken. “She held a mountain of earth and stone at bay until we could escape.”
Gwath’s eyes glimmered. “She burned herself out for us.”
And then, right there, Ruby cried. She cried harder and deeper than she would have ever thought possible for her mother, great racking sobs that shook her like a doll. They lasted a long time.
Until, in fact, a voice echoed across the deck.
“I am delighted to see you all safe and sound, and I do not wish to spoil a family reunion,” called Petra alla Ferra as she stalked across the deck, “but we fought our way out of those ruins and followed these men to a pirate haven at great personal cost, so I will ask you only one time, where is my money?”
The waves splashed against the side.
Cram cleared his throat. “Er, Miss Captain, we spoke with Thandie Paine, but—”
“She is imprisoned on the Grail,” said Wisdom Rool.
“Yep, she’s in the hoosegow,” said Cram, “but she did give us this little vial necklace, and—”
Petra alla Ferra’s eyes narrowed, glittering like a hunting hawk’s. “Sam,” she said.
“Um, really, mum, it’s Cram.”
“Cram, could you open that vial, please?”
He did.
Out of the little vial into his hand flowed a thin brown liquid that resolved itself into a very official-looking document. Henry took it, read it, and his eyes widened. “This is a letter of credit for twice your asking price,” he said. “I hope it will suffice.”
It did.
The Thrift, moving faster and quieter than ever before under First Mate Skillet’s deft hand, headed south to deliver Rool and the reeves at a smuggler’s cove not far from the mouth of the ocean. The reeves had slowly recovered most of their faculties, and Never and Levi and Gideon were shy, but Avid said they were grateful. Evram rode about on Gideon’s shoulders. He had spoken only a few words; but he smiled at Ruby, and his eyes shone with wonder at Evie.
Edwina Corson smiled and gave Ruby a bow. “Well, Teach, you may not have made a reeve, but I am grateful to you for what you are.”
Avid clasped Ruby’s forearm in reeve fashion and then shocked Ruby to the core by wrapping her up in a fierce hug and whispering in her ear, “Call on me whenever you have need.”
As the others were loading into the longboat, Wisdom Rool found Ruby sitting on Fat Maggie’s shoulder.
“Teach.”
“Rool.”
“This is where I first saw you.”
Ruby nodded, but she didn’t smile. “In pigtails, playing the terrified waif.”
He chuckled. “Not the waif now, for certain.” His empty eyes flashed. “What are you, do you think?”
“You said it yourself. I am a fire in the field. Chaos follows me wherever I go.”
He waited.
“It’s true, you know. I won’t run from it. And I’ll use it for these people.”
Rool smiled. “I know.”
“So what will you do, Lord Captain?”
“Well.” He counted off on his fingers. “There are cities to rebuild. Wars to defuse. Nations to build. I shall start there. And then, perhaps, have lunch.” He looked at her a moment. “And what will you do, Ruby Teach?”
She smiled. “I think that knowledge is not for you.”
He bowed. “The crown thanks you for your help in this matter.”
Ruby laughed in shock. “For what? For all the chaos and terror that have come to pass?”
“Indeed.” He winked. “We shall see each other again, Ruby Teach.”
And then he was gone.
The moon shone full in a cloudless sky above the new Thrift that night, and a crisp breeze cooled the summer heat.
Skillet whistled a tune at the great new wheel, a masterpiece of sculpted cobalt and seven years’ oak. As if by some agreement they gathered on the foredeck: the captain and Gwath, the crew, and Los Jabalís. Petra alla Ferra had pledged part of their enormous payment for the Thrift to take them back to Europe. There would be a vote among the crew in the morning. But for now they talked and joked. They sang. And then one by one they drifted away, down to their hammocks and holds. Gwath and the captain were the last to go, each with a hug and a kiss for their girl, until all who were left were Cram, Henry, Athena, and Ruby, sitting shoulder to shoulder, their bare feet over the side, with only the wind and waves for company.
Finally Cram broke the silence. “What now?” he said.
Athena sighed. “Eventually I will sail away to England, I think. The Worshipful Order may need a steadier hand. Cram, will you join me?”
“If we can first make a wee quick crown delivery?” At her smiling nod he said, “Then I will join you, milady. I hear there is good eating across the water.”
“Indeed. Indeed, there is.” She gently nudged Henry in the ribs. “And what of our great chemyst?”
“I have to go back, I think. To Fermat and Nasira. It’s home. And someone needs to figure out how to unjuice all those people. It’s a thrilling problem. Absolutely thrilling.” Henry stared into the distance and chewed his lip, gears whirling. He caught Ruby staring, though. He smiled and pulled himself back to the present. “And Ruby? What lies ahead for you?”
Ruby stretched her arms above her head. “Well, Grocer or Un-juicer both sound brilliant, but so does pirating up and down the Spanish Main in a first-class chem ship. Of course there is still a mad chemyst trussed up in our hold. We’ll have to find something to do with him. I’ll have to decide at some point. But not just yet.” They all laughed, and the talk finally petered out, and they lay there on the deck, the stars spinning, in easy silence.
She would have to decide, tomorrow or the next day, but just then Ruby looked about at her friends, there in the light of the moon and stars, and part of her simply wished that this one night would never end.
She scratched Evie under her golden chin.
The moon went down, and the Thrift sailed on.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Stories never really end. It’s just that we stop watching for a time.
It’s equally as impossible to mark where they begin. I sat down to trace back through the events and people that helped give Ruby and her crew breath, and I couldn’t actually find a clear place to point at and say, “that’s where it started.” I don’t think ideas—or people— are like that.
So. Thank you.
To my three parents: mom, dad, and books. To my brother, Tony, and sister, Julie, I owe my independence and my understanding that good things don’t come easy. To the creative community at Penn that first lit the flames: Stu, Soren, Katie, Jeff, Colin, Yaz, Seth, Kenly, and legions more. To Moey, Karl, Erin, Josh, Carey, Wilder, Naomi, Mike, Kiersten, and all the other UCSD folks who helped me understand that if you break the right rules, you can summon something holy right in front of someone. To Fump and Matt and the Troubies, who taught me that true comedy is both physical and wise. To Finkel and Bennett and Brian who got this chemtrain running. To Molly, for conspiracy and space. To Janet, Kiri, Sharon, Maurene, Sandy, and Michelle. To Chris, for an understanding of True Science, and True Epic-icity. And to my improv and gaming families in Bozeman, Montana, where I have found joy and sanity year after year. To Sylvie, Tim, Virginia, Gina, and the miracle workers at Greenwillow Books.
To Valerie, for belief.
To Susanna, my champion.
To Martha, my sage.
To Anna. For my life.
And to you, who reads. We made this story together.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KENT DAVIS is the author of the Riddle in Ruby series. He is also an actor, a game designer, and a teacher. He lives in Bozeman, Montana with his wife and a wily dog ninja named Bobo.
www.kentishdavis.com
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CREDITS
Cover art © 2017 by Petur Antonsson
Lettering © 2017 by Ryan O’Rourke
Cover design by Sylvie Le Floc’h
COPYRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used to advance the fictional narrative. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
A RIDDLE IN RUBY: THE GREAT UNRAVEL. Copyright © 2017 by Kent Davis. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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EPub Edition © October 2017 ISBN 9780062368423
ISBN 978-0-06-236840-9 (hardcover)
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Kent Davis, The Great Unravel
