Page 35 of Unbroken
The scars on Sebastian’s forearm tugged hard.
Someone was using the power of the Book of Blood. And they were close.
CHAPTER 16
Ves had to admit, the fireworks were beautiful. Gorgeous streaks of blue, green, and yellow shot into the sky, exploding with a thump he could feel in his bones. Smoke blew across the water, and far below he thought he caught a glimpse of fins, as though something rose from the deep to watch. Perhaps the people under the sea Sebastian had mentioned, though what sort of beings they might be Ves wasn’t sure.
Sebastian grabbed his arm, fingers digging in hard and breaking him from his reverie. “The Book is being used!”
Gods of the wood. Ves scanned the crowd, but saw no one he recognized—though given the ghastly masks many of the people were wearing, that didn’t mean much. “Where?”
Sebastian started toward the bonfire, weaving through the assembly, his left arm held out before him as if it were a compass needle pointing the way. He stopped, changed direction, paused—then pointed. “There!”
They weren’t the only ones turning in that direction. A man capered toward the massive bonfire, hopping and pirouetting, while those gathered began to laugh at his antics. Unlike the unsettling masks worn by other celebrants, the one covering his features was a true work of art—an elaborate jester’s face, mouth curved up in a grin, real bells hanging from the papier-mâché points of his fool’s cap. Gold paint glittered in the firelight, alongside other bright colors applied with a steady hand. A fastened cape covered most of his body; it appeared he had something stuffed beneath to make his form even more ludicrous. Sparklers burned in each hand, drawing streaks of fire through the air as he did an impromptu jig.
He skipped and bounced past the bonfire, closer and closer to the cliff’s edge. Someone called for him to be careful, but everyone else was caught up in his antics, laughing and clapping.
“It’s him,” Sebastian said urgently. “We have to stop him before he goes off the cliff!”
Ves took off at a dead run, shoving other revelers aside, ignoring their shouts of indignation. The jester stopped his frolic, turned to face the crowd, and pulled off his mask.
It was Daniel Rulkowski, and he looked as terrified as he had the day Ves had kept him from leaping out his window.
“Stop him!” he bellowed, but no one made a move.
Rulkowski dropped his sparklers and opened his cape with a flourish. Dozens of fireworks were strapped to his torso, their fuses almost burned down.
Ves reversed course, shoes skidding on the grass. “Get back!” he bellowed. “Everyone, back!”
Rulkowski turned and flung himself off the cliff. The fireworks went off, streamers of red, white, and blue fire shooting in all directions while what remained of Rulkowski hurtled into the sea like a falling star.
Screams filled the air. Tearing his eyes away from the final showers of sparks, Ves hurried to find Sebastian.
Sebastian had started to follow him, then stopped. His face was flour-white, hazel eyes dark with alarm. Ves took his arm and hurried him away from the crowd.
“Oh God,” Sebastian said, when they came to a halt. “The fool…what a way to die. If he’d just come clean…”
“But he didn’t.”
“No. I suppose…” Sebastian trailed off, staring down at his left forearm. “I still feel something. The Book! Or the maniac using it, or both—they must be here.”
Ves’s pulse quickened. “Where? Guide me—this could be our chance to stop them.”
Sebastian did so, hurrying past the bonfire, away from it and toward a copse of wind-twisted trees clinging to the rock. Sebastian’s foot snagged on a stone, and he would have fallen if Ves hadn’t caught him. “I can’t see a damned thing this far from the bonfire.”
“I can—stay here.” Ves released him and started toward the trees.
“It’s fading,” Sebastian called from behind him. “I think they’ve fled.”
Probably—they’d wanted a vantage to observe their handiwork without being seen themselves. As soon as the spectacle was over, they’d hurried off before anyone could spot them. Even so, Ves went to the copse, moving more slowly now, his eyes scanning the area for any clues.
The only footsteps that showed in the thin, sandy soil of the clifftop seemed to belong to a large goat. No doubt the creature had gotten loose from one of the local farms, wandered over here to nibble on the foliage, then ambled off again hours ago. Otherwise, nothing.
When Ves reported his lack of findings, Sebastian raked his fingers through his hair, leaving it standing out in all directions. “Damn it! We’re always one step behind, running to catch up to whatever maniac has a Book. I’m sick of it.”
“So am I.” Ves took his hand and tugged him in the direction of the road. “Let’s take a cue from our quarry, however, and get out of here before the police arrive.”
May 1, 1854
