The Devil and the Dark Water

51

Hunched over her writing desk, Lia hummed happily as she copied the artificer’s instructions from one parchment to another. The original was by her left hand and it was covered in odd sketches of cogs and tracks, suns and moons and stars, instructions written in Latin. Most people wouldn’t have thought the symbols any less infernal than those in the daemonologica.

Not that Lia let herself be distracted by such thoughts. She concentrated on what was before her, for it was an exacting document, perfect in every detail. It had taken her three weeks to scribe the original in Batavia, each blotted letter, drop of sweat and smear of ink reminding her of that awful period. Despite the terrible heat, her father had confined her to a locked room, refusing to allow her to leave until the work was done.

Lia hadn’t been allowed any company, for fear it would distract her into making a mistake, but her mama came anyway, singing softly, cradling her when she was tired, and hiding under the bed when her father came. Even now, the thought of her mother, emerging from under the bed covered in dust, filled her with such an overwhelming love, she almost had no place for it.

There was an insistent knocking.

Lia quickly began covering everything up, but Creesjie’s voice quelled her panic. ‘It’s me, dear heart,’ she said, opening the door a crack and slipping through quickly.

Behind her, Lia saw Marcus and Osbert playing with the pair of spinning dancers she’d made for them in Batavia. They were chasing them up and down the corridor under Dorothea’s supervision. The boys thought them magic. Lia thought them a nimble piece of woodworking. Sometimes she wished she were young enough to share in their glee. Her mother had tried to occupy her, but the fort had been a lonely place for a little girl to grow up.

Still, it had given her more time to build.

Coming up to the writing desk, Creesjie picked up the almost-finished model of the Saardam, turning it around in her hands. It was perfect in every detail. Even the string rigging was in order.

‘Is that what Sara asked you to build?’ she asked, amazed.

‘Yes,’ said Lia. She reached over, removing a hidden clasp that allowed the ship to break in half. Within, Creesjie could make out all the decks. Lia tugged open a small door.

‘I’ve calculated the spaces in the hull where a smuggler’s compartment could be built and cargo stored without it affecting the ballast of the ship.’

‘There are dozens,’ said Creesjie.

‘Yes,’ agreed Lia.

Putting the wooden ship down, Creesjie stared at the plans scattered around her desk, running an affectionate hand through Lia’s long black hair. ‘You’re a wonder to me,’ she said. ‘You make such miracles.’

Lia blushed, enjoying the compliment.

Smoothing her dress, Creesjie sat down on the edge of bunk. ‘I wanted to …’ She reconsidered. ‘I shall see your father tonight. Should I bring back more plans?’

‘Yes, please,’ said Lia, sifting through documents. ‘I need another hour or more on these, but then I’ll be done.’

Creesjie coughed awkwardly. ‘I never asked whether you were … I mean, are you comfortable with what we’re doing?’

‘Comfortable?’ asked Lia, tipping her head in almost exactly the same way her mother did when she was uncertain of what was being asked of her.

‘Is it what you want?’ asked Creesjie forthrightly. ‘Your mother’s been very adamant, but I thought, perhaps, you might have some other ideas.’

‘Mama says if I go back to Amsterdam, Father will eventually make me marry somebody I don’t want to,’ said Lia, struggling to see Creesjie’s point.

‘Your mother says that,’ said Creesjie, leaning forward. ‘What do you think? Do you think it’s bad to marry somebody chosen for you?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Lia carefully, this entire conversation a labyrinth. ‘You’ve had arranged marriages before, haven’t you?’

‘My first. The second I chose. And, perhaps, the third if I throw over Count Astor for Vos.’

‘He’s a duke, Aunt Creesjie.’

‘Vos said he was a count.’

‘I’m certain he would have said a duke. He’s usually quite reliable.’

‘Well, then, I’d be tossing away a duke,’ continued Creesjie, waving the rank away.

‘But I thought you hated Vos?’

‘Yes, part of me does,’ she acknowledged, her tone suggesting that part of her was of little importance. ‘He always struck me as the smallest of men, but his proposal is very appealing. And it shows an ambition I didn’t think he had, which was the thing I disliked most about him.’

‘But you don’t love him,’ said Lia, puzzled.

‘Oh, you truly are your mother’s daughter,’ said Creesjie, watching her affectionately. ‘Love can be feigned, dear heart. You can even convince yourself of it, if you try hard enough, but it’s impossible to spend an imaginary fortune. Marriage is an inconvenient convenience. It’s the shackle we accept for our safety.’

‘Mama says she’d rather be free than wealthy in a cage.’

‘An argument we frequently enjoy,’ Creesjie snorted. ‘Unlike your mother, I don’t believe women can be free, not while men are stronger. What use is the freedom to be assaulted in the first dark alley we come across? We can’t fight, so we sing, we dance – and we survive. Cornelius Vos adores me, and, if he becomes wealthy, he would make for a fine marriage. My sons will be well educated, protected and heirs to a future worthy of them. If I cast off that protection for some imaginary freedom, what will become of them? Where will they live, how will they eat, what will their future be? And what of myself? I’d be at the mercy of any lustful man who had the strength to put his hands upon me. No, no, no. Marriage is the price I pay for the privilege of nobility and I consider the price well spent. Poverty is the most dangerous thing for a woman. We’re not well suited to a life on the streets.’

‘But do you like being married?’

‘Not always,’ admitted Creesjie, her blonde hair catching the light.

Lia looked at it enviously. It was like spun gold.

‘My first husband was a wretch,’ said Creesjie without feeling. ‘But my second husband, Pieter, was the love of my life.’ Her voice came alive, the way a bush could suddenly be full of birdsong. ‘He was charming and eloquent. He could dance and sing, and he made me laugh.’

‘You don’t speak of him often,’ said Lia, saddened by Creesjie’s wistfulness.

‘It’s too painful,’ she said. ‘Every morning I reach over, expecting to find him in my bed. I hear the door downstairs and think it’s him, returning from one of his trips. I miss him so.’

‘Do you think he would have been able to stop Old Tom?’

‘He didn’t think so when he forced us to flee Amsterdam, but he made many mistakes.’ There was something bitter in that. ‘And, for all my admiration, I must confess that my Pieter wasn’t as clever as your mama. Even so, it’s not the easiest task finding a demon among these men. There’s malice enough on the Saardam to bring heaven to ruins.’

The door flew open and Sara bustled in breathlessly.

‘Oh, hello,’ she said to Creesjie, snatching the model of the ship from the desk. ‘Don’t mind me, I’ve had an idea.’

‘Sara!’ came Arent’s voice from the end of the corridor. ‘What did you want me to –’

Sara kissed Lia on the forehead. ‘Thank you for this, dear heart, it’s beautiful.’

And then she was gone, slamming the door shut behind her.

Lia smiled at the place where her mother had been. ‘I’ve never seen Mama this happy.’

‘It’s lovely, isn’t it?’ agreed Creesjie, who was obviously glad to change the subject. ‘It’s a shame. Your mother is wonderful, but she suits your father ill.’

‘Why?’

Creesjie took a moment to think about it. ‘Because he doesn’t need a partner,’ she said, at last. ‘He needs a wife and your mother doesn’t need a husband, she needs a partner.’

‘Is that why he beats her?’

Creesjie flinched at the coldness in Lia’s voice.

‘I think so,’ admitted Creesjie.

‘Is that why he hurt her so badly she couldn’t walk?’ pressed Lia, whose face had twisted into something malevolent.

‘I’m not trying to persuade you, or dissuade you,’ responded Creesjie, obviously uncomfortable. ‘I just want you to make your decisions for the best reasons, with all the facts laid before you. It’s a terrible thing to betray kin, especially when we don’t understand the price. Regret is the worst thing we do to ourselves.’

‘I understand,’ said Lia, nodding.

And, finally, she did. Creesjie thought Lia was doing all of this because she didn’t want to be forced into a marriage once they reached Amsterdam. She thought that Lia hurting her father was simply an unfortunate step along the way. Of course, Creesjie had it the wrong way around.

Arranging her skirts, Creesjie took a step towards the door.

‘Do you believe there are some things that can’t be forgiven?’ asked Lia.

Creesjie’s face flickered, as if trying to make sense of the question.

‘Yes,’ she said hollowly.

‘Good,’ said Lia. ‘So do I.’

And with that, she returned to the plans on her writing desk.