The Black Lung Captain - By Chris Wooding Page 0,82

still want to go back to your flea-bitten, raggedy life. But I understand, Darian. You can't help it. You're scared. Scared of love.'

'Scared,' said Frey flatly. 'Of love.'

'Cap'n . . .' Crake warned. He rather hoped Frey wasn't thinking of getting confrontational while there was a pistol pointed at his chest.

'I know it's frightening,' Amalicia said, suddenly sympathetic. 'It's scary to open your heart to another. To leave yourself vulnerable, to let others in. It's alright to admit it, Darian.'

Frey just looked embarrassed. 'Really, you've got this all wrong.'

'Of course you deny it! You don't even see it yourself. My poor orphan, I won't desert you.'

'What does my being an orphan have to do with any of this?' Frey cried.

She gave him a pitying gaze, moist with compassion. 'You don't know what's best for you, my love. So you're going to stay here. I'll show you there's nothing to be scared of.'

'You're kidnapping me?' Frey said, aghast.

'For your own good.'

Frey took a steadying breath and tried a new tack. 'Listen,' he said. 'Let me tell you what I learned at the party last night. This sphere -the sphere that will make me rich, remember - they're moving it by air to another location. This evening, at dusk. It'll be under heavy guard, but with the Storm Dog on our side, we can take it. We know the route and we'll set an ambush. It's our best and only chance.' He checked his pocket watch again. ' That's why we're sneaking off. I didn't want to worry you. As soon as we're done, I'll be straight back. I promise.'

'Is that true?' Amalicia asked Crake. He nodded frantically. All except the last part, anyway.

She evidently didn't believe him. 'Oh, Darian,' she said, with an indulgent tut. 'You will use every trick in the book, won't you? But you don't fool me. You're staying here.'

Frey gave a little scream of frustration. 'I can't stay here,' he said 'This is too important!'

'More important than love?'

'Yes!' he replied, without an instant's pause.

'You see?' said Amalicia. 'You're not thinking clearly. You're scared. Who in their right mind would take money over love?'

'Oh, for shit's sake,' Frey said, exasperated. He pulled a pistol from his belt and pointed it at her head. 'Just drop the damn gun.'

Amalicia went white and stared at him in surprise. Then an uncertain smile spread across her lips. 'You wouldn't shoot me,' she said.

'I'm a pirate, Amalicia. You think I haven't shot women in cold blood before?'

Crake hadn't thought so until now, but suddenly he wasn't sure. Amalicia was even more worried by the suggestion. She hadn't seen this side of Frey. The hard, uncaring, brutal side. She didn't move, perhaps expecting him to drop the act at any moment. But Frey's expression was like stone.

He cocked his pistol. 'Gun down, Amalicia. This isn't a game. That's a member of my crew you're threatening. I'm not asking a third time.'

Amalicia's eyes welled with tears at the tone of his voice. An expression of shock settled on her face as she realised he was serious. She looked like a child stunned by an undeserved reprimand.

'Darian,' she whispered. 'You couldn't.'

He closed one eye and sighted down the barrel towards her forehead.

She looked from one man to the other, and then she lowered her weapon. Crake breathed a low, whistling sigh of relief and took the gun from her hand. She slumped to the floor, her legs gone weak.

'How could you do this?' she asked, head hung. 'I love you.'

Frey shoved his pistol back in his belt. 'I never asked you to.' He walked to the front door, pulled it open, and went out into the dawn light. Crake cast one last, apologetic look at Amalicia and followed him.

'You don't know how to love, Darian Frey!' she shrieked after them, as they hurried down the drive towards their rendezvous. 'You don't know how to love!'

Nineteen

The Flashpan — A Flight Through The Storm —

Dead Reckoning — Unexpected Resistance

'Quite a storm,' Frey said.

Jez's reply was drowned out by a clap of thunder loud enough to rattle the brass-and-chrome fixtures of the Ketty Jay's cockpit.

Frey held his nose and blew through it till his ears popped. 'Say again?'

'I said, I've seen worse,' Jez told him. 'You've never flown the Flashpan before?'

'Can't say I've had the pleasure.' Frey was trying to peer through the lashing rain that assaulted his craft. It was almost pitch black out there. Thick clouds cloaked the glow of the moon. They were flying without