The Prophecy Machine (Investments) Read Free

back and hit the deck hard. He yelled at Finn, but Finn couldn't stop. He walked right over the brute, flailing for balance, much like moving on slippery stones across a creek—stepping on the groin, then the belly, then the head.
    Folding the lad between his shoulder and his chest, he ran across the foc'sle past the big foremast to the maindeck below.
    “Stay here,” he said, setting the lad down, “Right here. Don't move. No, that's wrong.
Don't
stay here—go. Go anywhere. Hide.”
    “S—sir—”
    Finn didn't have to look. He heard the heavy boots, heard the deep and throaty roar. He turned, then saw the man coming, decided he couldn't be
that
big, nobody could …

 
    H E GLANCED ABOUT THE DECK, SEARCHING FOR A weapon, anything at all. Thought, for a second, that he might use Julia, swing her like a club, knew she wouldn't care for that. Besides, he noted, Julia wasn't there. Somewhere in the melee, Julia had disappeared. Fallen, jumped, leapt down a hole. Whatever, she was nowhere in sight. There was no one there but Finn himself, Finn and the Newlie, a wailing, barking, quivering lad behind him, and the ugly, flame-headed lout with murder in his eyes.
    “Look, there is simply no reason to behave like this,” Finn said, backing off a step, then backing off again. “I'm sure you were—distraught; simply out of sorts back there. I'm certain you meant no harm to the lad. If you'd just apologize now, I'm sure we can—
Pickles and Pots, man, don't do that!
”
    The short silver blade flicked out of the man's long sleeves, sang a nasty song as it whipped in a swift and killing arc, clipping a brass button from Finn's favorite shirt and sending it rattling 'cross the deck.
    Finn sucked in a breath. Before he could get his wits together, the fellow was at him again, leaping, slashing, cutting wicked circles in the air.
    There was nothing to do but back up, feint to the right, shift to the left. Back off, do it all again.
    And how long could
that
go on? One man with a weapon, frothing at the mouth, another man without.
    “This is a stupid pastime,” he shouted, shuffling to the right as the madman sliced to the left. “This is simply ridiculous, totally inane. This is—
Huuuuk!
”
    Finn's heart nearly stopped as the weapon took another button off his shirt. He backed up, nearly to the bowsprit that arched out over the sea. Once more, the
Madeline Rose
plunged into the foam, nearly drowning Finn, then rose up swiftly again. Clearly Finn's assailant didn't care for water. He growled in anger, tried to slap the stuff away.
    Finn took a moment to catch his breath.
    Maybe this lout will break for lunch
, he muttered to himself,
and while he's filling his belly, I'll run down and get my blade, see how the bugger likes that …
    “
Rawwwk!
” the bully yelled, or words to that effect.
    Spilling pools of water, water splashing out his boots, out his pockets, out his nose, he sprang at Finn, forcing him back against the rail. Finn tried to leap aside, but the man was quick for his size. Twice, the blade slashed across his chest, venting his shirt and nearly kissing his skin.
    Finn stepped away, hard against the rail with nowhere to go except the churning sea below. He felt the rough touch of the tangled lines at his back. His foe slashed out again. Finn sucked in his belly, grabbed the rail with both hands, and kicked the brute soundly in the head.
    The man howled and staggered back. Finn grabbed a line and pulled himself up into the shrouds. Red Hair was on him in a second, climbing up behind, the knife clutched in his teeth.
    “Come on, you overgrown lout,” Finn shouted, “get at it or take a nap!”
    Bushes and Trees, he said to himself, now why did I have to say that?
    He risked a look down, and almost lost his hold. The deck already seemed a mile or so below. The ship yawed to port, jerked him backwards, then shoved him to starboard again, the bully still right on his heels.
    Worse yet, the crewmen were all