The Devil and the Dark Water

66

Screams below and panic above.

Creesjie stopped at the entrance to the great cabin, the hairs standing up on her arms. The burning red light of the Eighth Lantern was spilling through the windows, casting everything in a hellish shade.

‘Old Tom,’ she muttered.

Part of her wanted to run back upstairs and clutch her sleeping boys, but, even as she considered it, a small glow flared in the darkness. It floated towards her, like a spark come loose from a lantern.

Her heart thudded.

‘Reckon you should return to your cabin.’ Guard Captain Drecht emerged into the light with a glowing pipe in his mouth. ‘Something’s afoot.’

‘I must see to the governor general,’ she said. ‘He commands it.’

Drecht considered this, his eyes peering at her from under the brim of his hat. There was something in them, she thought. Some different quality she struggled to name.

He gave no indication of whether he would let her pass, so she simply strode by him and opened the door to the governor general’s cabin.

It was dim inside, only the red light seeping through the door to illuminate it. That was unusual for Jan. Due to his fear of the dark, he never went to sleep without a candle burning.

‘Jan?’

In that hellish bloom, her imagination immediately made monsters of every shape. A hunched beast revealed itself to be a writing desk, the spikes on its back nothing more than bottles of wine.

Jan’s armour stand lurked in the corner, like a footpad in an alley.

A pile of bones on the shelves became scrolls piled clumsily.

Approaching the bunk, she reached out a hand, feeling cold flesh beneath her fingertips.

‘Drecht,’ she called, alarmed. ‘Hurry, something’s amiss.’

The guard captain rushed into the room and over to the governor general. It was too dark to see anything, so he took his hand. It fell limp over the side of the bunk.

‘He’s cold,’ he said. ‘Fetch a light.’

Creesjie trembled, her eyes fixated on the lifeless hand.

‘Fetch a light!’ he screamed, but she was frozen by shock. He darted out of the room and collected a candle from the table. It trembled on its tray as he returned to the cabin.

The flame confirmed what they’d feared. The governor general was long dead, a dagger plunged into his chest.