White Silence Read Online Free PDF Page A

he had immediately recognized as another Immortal. But the damn war would not be over, and he had no time to take a student, certainly not a Yankee. He took the time, though, to tell the young Immortal what he needed to know—about the Game and the Rules. About how he could truly die. About how there were others like them who would hunt him, for his head, and his Quickening.
    “And he gave me my sword”—Danny held it aloft—“a Union officer’s saber. A brave man, Captain Desirée said, who’d died well. He told me to honor it.” He touched the blade carefully. “The next day, the city fell, and I never saw him again. I hope that he is living still, that none of the worst of us ever found him.”
    “So do I, Danny,” Duncan echoed.
    “You knew him?”
    “For a very short while. He was a true gentleman.”
    Danny regarded the sword. “I’ve tried to do what he asked of me, all the years since. Though sometimes, it’s been terrible hard.”
    “It is for all of us. It’s a part of who we are and what we do.”
    “And does it get easier in time, Mr. MacLeod?”
    No, it does not, that was the truth of it.
But it was not his place to say so. Answering such questions was part of what Fitz had taken on. So he simply shook his head, put on his shirt, and led the young Immortal back up to the sunlit deck.
    They were nearing the port of Seattle. Crew and passengers alike were abuzz with excitement. But Danny, who had not slept well the previous night, was belowdecks, lying on his bunk, dozing.
    It was snowing, big white flakes. They fell softly on the dark hair of the green-eyed girl child who lived in the fine house where Molly Kelly was in service. She nearly smiled at Danny as she swept by him. Then she stepped into her carriage, and a flutter of white linen fell toward the ground from the warmth of her white fur muff. Danny reached for it and it turned into the hem of the snow-white dress Amanda had been wearing that first night at the Queen of Spades. She smiled down at Danny, her dark eyes bright, and—
    “Danny O’Donal” Fitzcairn shouted, bursting through the door. “Get yourself up, lad!” He pulled Danny from the bunk. “There’s a sight you must see!”
    He was nearly dragged from the cabin and up the narrow stairs. On deck, he saw that most of the passengers, Duncan MacLeod among them, were gathered on the left—port—side of the boat. Hugh pushed him forward with one hand and with the other pointed out to sea. “Look there, young Danny.”
    Danny looked. At first he was not certain what he was seeing. But then it became clear. Sea creatures. Huge gray beasts, swimming along beside the boat, rising and falling in the water.
    Hugh seemed excited, near gleeful. Even Duncan MacLeod was smiling broadly.
    Danny was remembering Father O’Malley, speaking from the altar of his wee dark church. The pews would be full, for many of the folk unfortunate enough to dwell in Five Points were good Irish Catholics, who had fled the famine—like Katie O’Donal, who had died on the boat, and Moira Kelly, who had taken him from her arms—and they heard Mass and took communion every Sunday. He was remembering, most particularly, the Bible story about the man named Jonah.
    “Uhh, these beasts?” he began. “It’s whales, they are? Are they—are we—should we be … ?”
    No one was listening. A number of smaller gray creatures had been sighted.
    “They’re the babes, Danny,” Hugh exclaimed. “See how the grown ones gather round them?”
    “They’re called calves, I think,” MacLeod said.
    “Calves? Are ye daft, Highlander? These are fish, not cattle!”
    Danny edged closer to the rail. The whale fish looked fair big enough to swallow a man all right. But not a whole boat. He relaxed a little. They were a fine sight, indeed. Being here, seeing these beasts, being on the way to this place called Alaska—all this he supposed was part of the infinite possibilities that being an Immortal had given