Home > Underworld (Abandon #2)(17)

Underworld (Abandon #2)(17)
Author: Meg Cabot

Frank let out a harsh bark of laughter.

“Just now? That’d be quite a trick, considering none of us heard or saw anything. What kind of Fury was that, then, miss? The invisible kind?”

I felt myself flush. I’d gotten used to being the outsider in school, the one other people laughed at or simply chose to ignore because my near-death experience had made me the oddball, the misfit, the girl who didn’t fit in.

It was something else entirely to be standing in the place I’d always insisted existed, and find myself being treated in the exact same way.

“Excuse me,” I said, a little hotly. “It wasn’t Henry’s fault. I did follow him, because I was looking for John. Or the captain, as you call him. Would one of you please tell me how I could find him?” I just hoped I wouldn’t have to encounter that dog again in doing so….

“I apologize, my dear,” old Mr. Graves said. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had visitors, and I’m afraid we’ve forgotten our manners. Please don’t allow anything Frank says to trouble you. He was always an able seaman, but never much of a gentleman.”

I shot Frank a worried look, fearing he’d be insulted upon hearing this. He only folded both hands behind his head and put his boots up on the table, looking pleased to be referred to as never much of a gentleman.

“I’m Mr. Graves, ship’s surgeon to the Liberty,” the old man said, apparently not noticing his shipmate’s behavior. “And this is Mr. Liu, ship bosun.” The giant with the braid, who had a cup of tea in front of him, nodded at me unsmilingly.

None of this made any more sense to me than what Henry had said earlier. The Liberty, again. Was Mr. Graves supposed to be some kind of doctor? Because he certainly didn’t look like one, in his old-fashioned black wool suit.

If he was a doctor, maybe the foul-smelling substances in the pots he was tending over the fire were special medicines he was brewing to heal wounds inflicted by Furies. I hoped so, since it would be nice to think John had someone besides me to take care of him.

On the other hand, if these four — Mr. Graves, the brutish Frank, the mysterious Mr. Liu, and rude little Henry — were the only company John had had for a hundred and sixty-odd years, it explained a lot about his brooding.

Mr. Liu and Frank looked almost exactly like the guards I’d seen working with John that day I’d died back when I was fifteen. The day John had decided to keep me, instead of sending me on to my final destination.

What was it Henry had said, back in the hallway? We all remember you from the last time you were here.

No wonder they looked like those guards. They probably were those guards.

And no wonder none of them liked me. I was the girl who’d thrown tea in their boss’s face, and run away.

Now it seemed more likely that what was in the pots Mr. Graves kept stirring was poison … poison that was going to be used on me.

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” I said, deciding it was best to be diplomatic, since it looked like I was going to be stuck with these people for a while. I rose on still unsteady legs to walk over and shake Mr. Graves’s hand.

The doctor simply stared over my head, seeming to notice neither my hand, nor me standing there in front of him.

This was explained when Frank said to me scornfully, a second later, “He can’t see you. He’s blind.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling mortified. I hadn’t noticed until that point that Mr. Graves’s eyes had a milky-white sheen to them, and that he’d never once looked directly at anyone who was speaking. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mr. Graves said, managing to find my hand anyway and give it a squeeze. “It’s not your fault.”

“Actually, it could have been,” Frank said. “It was a Fury that —”

“Frank, the young lady said she’d like to see the captain. Why don’t you go fetch him?” Mr. Graves snapped. To me, he said, “Miss Oliviera, I do apologize. It’s been quite some time since these fellows have been in the company of a young lady.”

“Speak for yourself, old man,” Frank said. He came to his feet with sudden alacrity. “Why don’t I just take her to the captain?”

“I hardly think that’s a good idea,” Mr. Liu muttered, into his teacup.

“His orders were if she showed up, we were to bring her straight to him,” Frank said.

Mr. Graves’s face expressed the exact dismay I felt upon being reminded of this. “Just go and fetch the captain, Frank. Or young Henry can do it.”

“What?” Henry cried, looking stricken. “I don’t want to go down there. All those dead people. And I’m the one who always gets stuck handing out the blankets —”

“It’s not important,” I said quickly. Blankets? What blankets? What on earth was Henry talking about? “I’ll just wait until John comes back —”

“See?” Henry looked triumphant. “I told you. She’s not the one.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Frank said, impatiently. “Either way, we’re stuck with her.”

This wasn’t a very nice thing to hear about yourself — that people thought of you as someone they were stuck with. Not that I hadn’t been thinking the very same thing about them … and not that I didn’t share Henry’s fear that I wasn’t Queen-of-the-Underworld material.

   
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