The Black Lung Captain - By Chris Wooding Page 0,170

in the fight, hiding behind a bullet-riddled lectern, and the remainder of his life could be counted in seconds.

Frey saw, with a sudden flood of horror, what would happen next. He fought to drag in a breath.

In moments, it would be over. Grist was dead meat. He didn't have a chance. They'd turn their weapons on him, and gun him down, and that would be that.

But to get to Grist, they had to go through Trinica.

He found air at last. Sucked it in and yelled.

'STOP!'

His voice rang out with a volume and authority he hadn't realised he possessed. Friend and enemy alike froze, fingers on triggers.

Silence fell, broken only by the crescendo wail of Grist's crewman as he flew across the room to crunch against the far wall.

Bess made a bubbling noise in her chest that somehow managed to convey an apology.

All eyes went to Frey. Grist stood where he was, his gun in Trinica's ribs. Crattle stayed in hiding, hardly daring to believe his reprieve. The crewmen of the Ketty Jay waited expectantly.

He knew he should let his men loose. He had the power. Kill them all, Trinica too. Be done with all the bitterness and betrayal. It would be so damned good to see her die right now.

But he couldn't. Even with all the anger and hate inside him. This woman was a millstone around his neck, and yet he couldn't bring himself to get rid of her. She was his penance and his punishment. Of all the women he'd wronged, she was the only one that counted. She'd carried his child, and killed it too. Like a vengeful ghost, she followed him out of the past, taking on whichever shape best enabled her to hurt him. He'd never be free.

He wanted her gone. He so desperately wanted her out of his life. But she'd never leave him alone until she was dead, and he couldn't handle that eventuality. Her absence from the world would rob him of something vital, something he needed in order to keep on going. Without it, all that was left was that hollow feeling, the dreadful, indefinable lack that had inspired this whole sorry escapade in the first place.

A grin spread across Grist's face. The advantage was lost. Grist had figured him out. 'Thought so,' he said. He looked at Frey, down at Trinica, and then back to Frey again. 'Ain't that nice?'

Trinica watched him, her face blank. Was she afraid? Was she silently pleading with him to save her? No. Perhaps she simply didn't care if she lived or died. But how could he tell, in the end? How could he trust any emotion from her ever again?

He waved at his men. 'Let 'em go,' he said.

Malvery had his shotgun aimed squarely at Trinica and Grist. His eyes flicked from the gunsight to Frey.

'You what?' he asked, his voice flat with disbelief.

'You heard me.'

'You can't let them walk away,' said Crake. 'Not with that sphere. We'll need it if there's any hope of undoing what's been done.'

'Nobody's undoin' a bloody thing,' said Grist. 'We're walkin' out of here, sphere an' all, or your Cap'n's little missy gets a bullet.'

'Cap'n,' said Malvery, his voice tight with suppressed anger. 'She's a lying, backstabbing bitch and she ain't worth it.'

'I know, Doc,' said Frey. 'No one knows it better than me. But if any one of you pulls his trigger, it's the last thing you'll do as a crewman on the Ketty Jay.'

It wasn't often he had to threaten his crew nowadays. But they needed to know that he meant it. This wasn't a moment for dissent.

Malvery glared at him hard, and for a moment Frey thought he might actually do it: just blow them both away, Trinica and Grist alike, and take the consequences after. But then he spat on the ground, swore the foulest oath in his armoury, and stepped aside. Bess and the others followed his lead, clearing the way for Grist, Crattle and Trinica to get to the stairs.

'Get out of my damn sight,' Frey told Grist and his prisoner alike.

They left without another word. Grist circled close to the sanctum wall, keeping Trinica between himself and the guns trained on him. Crattle stayed close, looking grey, shaken by his close shave. Trinica didn't take her eyes from Frey's the whole time. He didn't flinch from her gaze. Damn her. Let her know that he was unbowed, even after this. It was through his mercy that she lived. She'd better know