Chapter 21 #2
Judith had mentioned that her children might be escorting a roost back from Sark. There were indeed many vampiri hanging on the ropes, and as Marigold approached, she saw them swooping through the night air, somersaulting, vaulting, and looping, like children let free.
She panted heavily now, too tired to care much how she made her entrance.
She feared she might even fail at the last moment and slip under the waves by the hull.
Her wings ached with the strain. Quivering, she collapsed onto the wooden deck in a heap, just shy of the bow on the port side, gasping for breath.
The foolscap was crinkled under her, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind.
Nobody noticed her at first. Perhaps all the other vampiri assumed that she was one of them, doing foolish tricks and needing rest. Then she heard the light patter of someone landing right next to her. She turned her head.
A vampiri stood a foot away from her: a young boy, in his human form, stark naked and rather skinny. He had curly brown hair, and his expression was filled with curiosity.
“You’re not one of us.” He tipped his head to his shoulder to stare at her. He spoke in a French accent rather similar to Yvette’s. “Who are you?”
Marigold kept heaving deep breaths, pitifully.
“I’m Raddle,” he added. “Do you need some help, mademoiselle?”
With a groan, she made the effort to transform. “I’m all right,” she croaked with her human voice, then sat up. “I need to find Mr Peregrine Avely. His mother sent me.”
Raddle’s eyes widened. “His mother? Lord Avely’s?” He hesitated. “Oh yes, he’s not really a lord, is he? I think he’s in the cabin. Do you want me to fetch him?”
“Wait,” she said huskily. “Can you do it quietly, without telling everyone else? This is a private matter.”
The truth was that she didn’t feel like having several gazes upon her while she explained, or any arguments about it. There was some urgency, after all, to return to Judith with her son that very night.
Raddle looked intrigued. “Certainly, mademoiselle.” He glanced about. “If you want privacy, maybe I can show you to his room. It’s close by, as he sleeps in one of the crew cabins with Jaq. Quicker to fly, though,” he added, looking in concern at Marigold’s limp form sprawled on the deck.
Moaning, Marigold became a bat again and heaved herself into the air. Raddle did likewise and led her around the booms to a hatch in the deck, ignoring the wheeling forms of bats overhead. He swooped down into the dark vent, and she followed.
The drop opened out into a narrow room. Two bed slats bracketed it, covered with blankets. In one of them lay an extremely handsome young man, with high cheekbones and thick dark hair. He was lolling, one hand flung out, long lashes against his cheek. He was fast asleep.
In the other bed was another young man: blond and awake. Hazel eyes, much like Judith’s, blinked at Raddle and Marigold as they hovered mid-air.
It was Peregrine Avely, sitting covered from the waist down with blankets, his chest bare. Marigold landed on the bed with a bump. At least she didn’t need to worry about her own nudity if he wasn’t wearing clothes. She became human.
“Good God.” Peregrine lifted a hand to cover his eyes. “Not another one! I thought I’d be safe from them down here! Raddle, what game are you playing, bringing a lady bat into a gentleman’s private chamber?”
“Oy!” said Marigold crossly. “You’re naked too.”
Peregrine looked down at his chest and snatched his blanket higher. “I’m not prancing around on the bed! You French vampiri have no sense of decency!”
“I’m not French,” she said indignantly.
Raddle also landed in his human form. “Mademoiselle is not one of the roost. She says she comes with a message from your mother.”
Perry sat up straighter, blinking in surprise. “My mother?” he hissed. “Is she all right?”
“She is fine,” said Marigold. “But she is…worried.”
Perry rolled his eyes and sank back against his pillows. “You can tell her that I’m all right.”
“She’s not worried about you.”
“Elinor’s fine too.”
It was Marigold’s turn to roll her eyes. “Judith is concerned about a more distinguished fellow than either of you. The Duke of Sargen is in grave danger—imprisoned. She wants your help to rescue him.”
There was a silence, as Perry gaped at her. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true!”
“But it doesn’t sound like my mother at all,” objected Perry. “She doesn’t even know the Duke of Sargen.” He glanced over to the other bed, where his friend continued to sleep deeply and obliviously.
Marigold put her hands on her hips. “I think you will find that she knows the duke quite well,” she said dryly. “She’s been frolicking around with him for the last two weeks.”
“Frolicking? My mother doesn’t frolic,” said Perry in outrage.
“I think you will find that she does.” Marigold turned to Raddle. “Perhaps if you leave us now, Raddle, I can explain matters properly to Mr Avely?”
Raddle looked mutinous, but he obliged, flapping out of the room in a huff.
Perry stared after him, then narrowly examined Marigold. “Prove to me that you know my mother. I don’t believe it for a minute.”
Marigold considered. “She’s a Truth Discernor, and she loves drinking chocolate. She is overly fond of mobcaps. And she has a red paisley shawl with a pocket sewn into it.”
Perry grimaced in acknowledgement. Then he sighed and set about extricating himself from the bed.
Marigold was soon treated to the sight of Judith’s son naked before her, hunting for a dressing gown.
If she was a human that way inclined, she might have found him to be quite an attractive specimen, lean with muscles, his blond hair thick with dried salt, his forearms tanned from the sun.
“Come,” he whispered at last, once he was decently clad. He held out a hand. “Let’s go to the next room to talk.”
With one last fond look at the slumbering, dark beauty in his bed, he eased a door open in the wall. Soon they were in another narrow, close cabin.
He set her down on one slatted bed and sat on the other. “Explain yourself.”
Marigold began. She had to deal with Perry’s various interruptions and exclamations of disbelief, but when she untied the sketch of the drawing room, he fell silent. He stared at it, as if it somehow lent more credence to her story.
“So this is the drawing room at Lanyon Castle?” he asked eventually.
“The Blue Drawing Room, yes.”
“And Mother wants me to catapult into it, now?”
“Yes. She’ll be waiting there for you, all night, sitting in that chair.” Marigold pointed. “You must land in front of the window here, if you can.”
“Of course I can,” he said, though she heard a sliver of doubt in his voice.
“Will anyone miss you?” She cocked her head, still hearing the sound of activity resonating from the quarterdeck. “I would have thought everyone should be sleeping now.”
“We keep odd hours here, so that the bats have some company. Elinor won’t notice; she’s too seasick to care where I might be. But I’ll be needed tomorrow to help crew the ship. And Jaq might notice that I’m gone tonight.”
“The sleeping beauty? He’s unconscious.”
“Yes.” Perry bit his lip and seemed to come to a decision. “He might try to stop me if he knew. Very well. Let’s do it quickly then. It must be several hours before dawn still.”
“That’s the spirit.” Marigold paused, then added, “I don’t know why I am saying this, but you might need something more than a dressing gown.”
Perry looked down. “Ah yes. I’m about to break into a military fort, after all. Not the right attire for the occasion.”
“And do you have a gun or some sort of weapon?” she added hesitantly. Judith hadn’t mentioned anything like that, but Marigold could be sensible for the three of them.
Perry began to shake his head. The suddenly he snapped it up instead. “By George, I do have something that might be useful. Wait here, while I fetch it.”