Chapter 25 #2
No one was supposed to find out about Duaric. No one. How had this man come by the knowledge that he was still alive?
Lockwood finally broke the silence. “Captain, is Duaric . . .”
“We’re done here,” Will interrupted. “This was a waste of time.” He turned on his heel and stormed toward the exit.
Arbuckle called after him, “Come, now! In exchange for Duaric, I can give you the one who killed your family. I can deliver him on a silver platter!”
Will didn’t know how Arbuckle knew Graven was responsible for killing his family, either, but that was far less concerning.
“Perhaps we should discuss—” Lockwood attempted.
“No. We’re leaving.”
“I’m counting on you, Markus. Make him see reason!” Arbuckle said.
Will rolled his eyes and pushed through the hidden door, then past the cannon. The shopkeeper’s twisted, deranged giggle followed them out into the alley.
The stink of rats and garbage was preferable to the claustrophobic shop. Will took a deep breath, closing his eyes and centering himself.
“Captain, if I may,” Lockwood said, joining him outside. His jaw was tight, a hard edge to his voice that Will barely recognized. “I’m not sure that was wise. Arbuckle is odd, but he is our best chance at apprehending Graven.”
“And he requested compensation in a currency that does not exist. You want me to bargain with ghosts?” Will glanced at his companion, his pulse jumping all over again when he noticed the hesitation written across Lockwood’s face . . . and the anger simmering in his dark eyes.
“Is there any chance that Duaric might be—”
Hellsgate sprung into Will’s hand without warning as he turned on Lockwood. “Are you calling me a liar?”
Lockwood wisely froze in place, but much to Will’s ire, he didn’t outright deny the accusation.
It was one of his worst nightmares, being asked to betray Duaric in order to keep his promise to Amaya and protect his crew.
Not to mention, Duaric was responsible for the death of Lockwood’s family, and the only reason he stood here by Will’s side today was because Duaric was dead.
Letting Lockwood discover the truth wasn’t an option, and neither was turning the old Sky Lord in.
Because it wasn’t just about Duaric. If it was, Will would make the trade in a heartbeat.
It was about Sebastian. Serena. Hedy. If the Duarics hadn’t considered Will, the scrappy kid from the Baroness, a part of their family, he would still be one of Graven’s lackeys. He’d still be looking for his way out.
“I’m saying I’ve never known Arbuckle to be wrong,” Lockwood said. “Not once. Perhaps Duaric is alive. Did you see him die? Did you recover a body?”
“He got blown up, remember? There was no body to recover.”
The first part of the plan, locating Graven’s whereabouts, had failed.
That made step two, dropping anonymous tips to Sorrento law enforcement about his location in order to bait the Royal Fleet, significantly more difficult.
But Lockwood procured a map of the city while Will booked a room downtown, and together, they debated Graven’s most likely haunts.
Even though pirates hardly ever came into Sorrento, it wasn’t like there hadn’t been any instances, and Lockwood’s former career meant he knew the weak points where Graven was most likely to infiltrate the city.
But Graven never did what felt most likely. Disappointment, coupled with the heavy weight of failure and guilt, settled on Will’s chest, crushing him. He almost wanted to go back to Arbuckle and give him what he wanted. No matter how much he wanted to do it, though, he just couldn’t.
After choosing three of Graven’s most likely entrance points that could easily be triangulated, Lockwood took care of calling in the first tip. An hour later, Will called in a second, and thirty minutes after that, he called in the third.
It was all guesswork, and Will hated it, but they were promised investigations on all three fronts. Will turned the radio to the Royal Fleet’s channel to keep tabs on any sightings, but nothing significant came through the airwaves.
He kept looking over at Wayfinder to make sure Amaya wasn’t calling for him. As long as the compass was quiet, he felt a little lighter—but still useless. Like an utter failure.
“I have a few other informants I could visit,” Lockwood said once they’d made all their calls.
The sun was setting, casting a warm shadow across the room.
It was small, furnished with only a wooden dresser, desk, radio, rotary telephone, and two single beds.
“They’re not as reliable as Arbuckle, but I might be able to find out something. ”
“Why are you mentioning this now?” Will asked dryly.
“Because I wouldn’t expect much. The relic auctions usually take place after dark. If I can find one, I’ll be able to round a lot of them up at once.”
“You’re a pirate now. What makes you think you can wander into a relic auction?”
“Captain, with all due respect, I know my way around these people.”
Will sighed and sat up on his bed. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“Not you.”
Will shot Lockwood an irritated look, but when he saw his friend’s expression, he understood. It might not be safe for Lockwood, but Will’s presence at a relic auction was easily a code red.
“All right,” he relented. “I’ll keep listening for any news.”
Useless.
Lockwood nodded, straightening his jacket. “I’ll try to be back before dawn.”
He departed, and Will stared up at the ceiling with his arms crossed, trying to think of something productive to do. Anything. They couldn’t have come all this way for nothing. He could only hope the others were doing better.
He wasn’t sure when he drifted off, but when he stirred the next morning to pink sunlight pouring through the curtains, Lockwood hadn’t returned.
And Wayfinder was buzzing next to his ear.