shoot, Captain. It's me. It's only me." She stepped into view at the bottom of the stairs.
Valerie.
Marsh hesitated. She was smiling up at him, dark hair catching the moonbeams, waiting. She wore trousers and a man's ruffled shirt, unbuttoned down the front. Her skin was soft and pale, and her eyes caught his and held them, shining violet beacons, deep, beautiful, endless. He could swim in those eyes forever. "Come to me, Captain," Valerie called. "I'm alone. Joshua sent me. Come down, so we can talk." Marsh took two steps downward, trapped by those brilliant eyes. Valerie held her arms out.
The Eli Reynolds moaned and settled, shifting suddenly to starboard. Marsh stumbled and hit his shin hard against the stair, and the pain brought tears to his eyes. He heard faint laughter drifting up from below, saw Valerie's smile waver and fade. Cussing, Marsh swung the rifle back up to his shoulder and fired. The kick near tore off his shoulder, and slammed him back against the steps. Valerie was gone, vanished like a ghost. Marsh swore and got to his feet and fumbled in his pocket for another cartridge, retreating backward up the stairway. "Joshua, hell!" he roared down at the darkness. "Julian sent you, damn him!"
When he stepped backward onto the hurricane deck, listing at a thirty-degree angle now, Marsh felt something very hard press between his shoulder blades. "Well, well," said the voice from behind him, "if it ain't Cap'n Marsh."
The others appeared, one by one, when Marsh had dropped the gun to clatter on the deck. Valerie came last of all, and would not look at him. Abner Marsh cussed her up and down and round about as a treacherous whore. Finally she gave him one terrible, accusing glance. "Do you think I have a choice?" she said bitterly, and Marsh ceased his tirade. It was not her words that quieted him; not her words, but the look in her eyes. For in those vast violet depths, glimpsed so briefly, Marsh saw shame and terror... and thirst.
"Move," said Sour Billy Tipton.
"Damn you," said Abner Marsh.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aboard the Steamer OZYMANDIAS, Mississippi River, October 1857
ABNER Marsh had expected darkness, but when Sour Billy shoved him through the door to the captain's cabin, the room gleamed in the soft light of its oil lamps. It was dustier than Marsh remembered, but otherwise just as Joshua had kept it. Sour Billy closed the door, and Marsh was alone with Damon Julian. He gripped his hickory stick hard-Billy had thrown the gun in the river, but allowed Marsh to retrieve the stick-and scowled. "If you're goin' to kill me, come on and try," he said. "I ain't in the mood for no games."
Damon Julian smiled. "Kill you? Why, Captain! I'd planned to feed you dinner." A silver serving tray had been set on the small table between the two big leather chairs. Julian lifted its cover to reveal a plate of pan-fried chicken and greens, turnips and onions on the side, and a slice of apple pie topped with cheese. "There is wine, too. Please have a seat, Captain."
Marsh looked at the food and smelled it. "Toby's still alive," he said, with a sudden certainty.
"Of course he is," Julian said. "Will you sit?"
Marsh moved forward warily. He couldn't figure what Julian was up to, but he considered it for a moment and decided he didn't care. Maybe the food was poisoned, but that didn't make no sense, they had easier ways of killing him. He sat down and picked up a chicken breast. It was still hot He bit into it ravenously, and recalled how long it had been since he'd had a decent meal. Maybe he was going to die presently, but at least he'd die on a full stomach.
Damon Julian, resplendent in a brown suit and golden vest, watched Marsh eat with an amused smile on his pale face. "Wine, Captain?" was all he said. He filled two glasses and sipped delicately from his own.
When Abner Marsh had polished off the pie, he sat back in his chair and belched, then screwed up his face in a scowl. "A good meal," he said grudgingly. "Now, why am I here, Julian?"
"The night you made your hasty departure, Captain, I tried to tell you I simply wanted to talk to you. You chose not to believe me."
"Damn right I didn't believe you," said Marsh. "Still don't. But now I ain't got much say on the matter, so talk."
"You are bold,