by Cheree Alsop
I took a step to the right and both eyes followed me. The same happened when I walked to the left. It was unsettling to be the focus of such a huge gaze.
“We need to go somewhere safe,” I said over my shoulder to the girl.
Her pale eyebrows pulled together and she replied, “There’s nowhere safe on the water.”
“Then we need to find land,” I said.
“There is no land,” the girl replied. Confusion colored her voice and she watched me as though concerned that I may have been hit harder than my brain could take.
But of course land existed. Where did everyone live?
I figured we weren’t in a place to argue semantics, so instead, I said, “We need to find someone who can help us.”
The creature started swimming. Its clawed flippers cut through the stormy water with ease. Purpose showed in its gaze as it focused on the horizon.
“I think it’s listening to you,” the girl said with awe in her voice.
I shook my head. Nothing made sense, and least of all the fact that we rode on the head of the giant animal to wherever help might be.
Exhaustion from the ordeal took over as adrenaline faded. I knew better than to think we were safe, but at least the ship was long gone. I sank to my knees and leaned against the short, slick fur between the animal’s eyes.
The girl joined me without a word. Her hair was plastered to her shoulders and back, and the clothing she wore was torn and soaked with sea water. I lifted my arm. She hesitated, then leaned against my side. When she settled against me, I realized how badly she was shaking. I pulled her as close as the pain in my rib would let me.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
The girl looked up at me. “Zyla,” she replied. “What’s yours?”
“Orion,” I told her.
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say what she was thinking.
I rested my head back against the fur and closed my eyes. All of the aches and bruises from being beaten and then our fight to survive the sinking ship began to make themselves known. The toll of swimming with strange half-breaths from the water had sapped whatever strength had remained from the beating. I could feel myself sinking deeper past sleep into something more dangerous, but I no longer had the energy to care.
Chapter Three
Zyla
“We’re under attack!”
“Raise the cannons!”
Zyla opened her eyes, then shielded her gaze against the sunlight that stole across the bow of the ship. She couldn’t understand why she was level with it, yet was on the other side of the handrail.
The deck moved beneath her. Zyla glanced down and realized it wasn’t a deck, but a giant flat nose covered in fur that was nearly as long as a deck. A look over her shoulder showed huge brown eyes watching her with the same confusion she felt. Her gaze jumped to the form slumped against her shoulder. Her memory flooded back at the sight of the metallic tattoos on his chest and his glowing blue eyes.
“Orion,” she whispered.
“Prepare to fire!” someone yelled.
Zyla rose carefully, afraid that her movements would set the creature off. But if the creature was shot, they were in trouble anyway. She really didn’t have a choice.
“Don’t shoot!” Zyla shouted.
Answering shouts of surprise came from the ship.
The animal snorted and rose in the water so that it towered high above the craft. The creature glared at the two imposters on its nose. Zyla had the distinct impression they were no longer welcome passengers.
She shook Orion’s shoulder.
“Wake up,” she pleaded.
He had somehow controlled the animal with the blue light that glowed from his eyes, but asleep, that control appeared to be gone. She shook him again; if he didn’t respond, they would be in serious trouble.
“What’s happening?”
Relief filled Zyla at Orion’s groggy voice.
“We’re about to be killed,” she told him quickly. “You need to command the animal to put us down or we’re all dead!”
Orion opened his eyes, then closed them again quickly as if the sunlight hurt.
“I can’t see,” he said with an edge of fear.
The huge animal reached a flipper toward its snout. The size of the claws that tipped it dwarfed Zyla. When they drew closer, the jagged edges promised a painful end.
“Hold my hand,” Zyla told Orion.
She steadied him as he rose shakily to his feet and helped him back up so they could meet the animal’s eyes. Fear pounded in her chest that the captain of the ship would disregard her plea and command his crew to fire at the creature anyway. They didn’t have much time.
“I don’t know if it’ll work,” Orion said.
“It’s worth a try,” Zyla replied. She cringed against the sight of the clawed flipper lowering to swipe them into the sea.
The raised flipper blocked out the light of the sun for a brief moment. Orion took the opportunity to open his eyes and meet the animal’s gaze.
“Let us down,” he commanded in a steady tone as though he spoke to massive sea monsters all the time.
Zyla would have believed it if it wasn’t for the way his grip tightened in hers as they waited to see what the creature would do.
The flipper paused in the air. Zyla feared the animal would ignore the command and simply squish them like pests. Orion’s harsh breaths met her ears. He leaned against her, but kept his focus on the creature. The blue of his eyes were reflected in the brown glare.
The animal’s head lowered. Zyla and Orion held onto each other to steady themselves as the snout became level with the ship and then moved forward to touch it. They met the amazed stares of the crew who backed up when Zyla helped Orion over the railing. The animal moved at the last second and Orion nearly fell. She helped him over the edge to the deck beyond where he sunk exhausted to his knees
As soon as they were gone, the animal dove into the water without a backwards glance. Zyla collapsed to her knees, grateful for the safety of a ship once more. The knowledge that no ship was truly a safe place for someone like her whispered in the back of her mind.
A shadow blocked out the sunlight.
“Are you dealing in witchcraft now?”
Zyla looked up and relief chased the fear from her chest. Her luck was definitely improving. “Something like that.”
The man in the gray suit shoved his hat up so she could see his light blue eyes. “There’s death below those waves, you know.”
That brought a slight smile to her face. “Tell me about it. I’m not really sure how I even got here.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners and he said, “You’ll have to tell me the story before my crew thinks you’re truly a witch and sends you back over to that beasty.”
The thought sent a shudder down Zyla’s spine. “Anything but that.”
He nodded and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “To the fall of Orion.”
“And the rise of our freedom,” Zyla repeated.
He smiled. “You look well, Niece.”
“And you look free, Uncle,” she replied.
He held up his right hand to show the Solariat sunburst branded on the back. “As free as a branded on the end of a long leash can ever be.” His gaze flitted to her hand where the crescent moon brand proclaimed her to be the property of the Lunarians. Sadness filled his gaze. “I never wanted to see you as a branded. He was wrong to make that choice.”
Zyla shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for regret. “I made my own choice to follow him, but I can’t say I was sorry to see the Taurus fall out of the sky.”
Her uncle’s eyes widened. “A Class Seven went down?”
Zyla glanced at Orion. He didn’t look well. He stood there with his eyes closed and his hands behind his back. The bruises on his face and torso looked worse in the sunlight. Filth from their survival of the wreck and their ride on the sea creature made the tattoos on his chest barely noticeable.
“Let’s just say that Captain Holland’s greed outweighed his experience on this one.” She shook her head. “Though I wish I could say I had a hand in his literal plummet from power.”
“You sound like my brother.” The man gave a fond smile that lifted his white mustache. “It’s good to see you again, Zyla.”
“And you, Uncle Demetri.”
His gaze shifted past Zyla’s shoulder and his eyes widened. Zyla turned in time to see Orion’s legs give out. His knees hit the deck with dull thuds. He barely stopped himself with a hand on the deck to keep the rest of him from following.
She touched his shoulder, but he didn’t look up. His chest heaved and she could hear the rattle of water in his throat. However he had kept them alive beneath the Unified Sea had taken a very heavy toll.
She looked at her uncle. “My friend needs a place to rest. Can you help us?”
“He appears to need much more than that,” Demetri replied. He motioned and two of his men stepped from the staring crew to help. “The rest of you, get this wreck back in the air if you don’t want that creature to return and finish the job.”
“Yes, Cap’n,” Several crewmates replied. The crew dispersed. Zyla caught several furtive glances from familiar faces thrown her way. Superstitions raged heavily on any ship; after what they had seen, stories would no doubt be quick to follow.
A man in a black bowler hat caught up to the captain as they made their way to the hatch.
“What is it, Hayes?” Demetri asked.
“The stern orb is losing energy faster than the sunlight can replenish it,” the man reported.
Demetri didn’t appear pleased at the report. “We need a storm for the lightning accumulators.” He glanced up at the sky that was bereft of clouds. “We may have to find a Stasher. Have you heard from Garrington lately?”
Hayes shook his head. “Not for the last fortnight.”
Demetri glanced at Zyla, then back at his first mate. “See who you can pick up. If the Taurus went down not far from here, crews will be heading over. We need to lay trails if we don’t want to become part of their bounty.”
“Understood,” Hayes replied.
Zyla followed the two men who half-dragged, half-carried Orion up the steps to the quarter deck. They paused near the door that led to the great cabin.
“Where do you want him, Cap’n?” A man with dreadlocks woven with purple tassels asked.
“To my quarters,” Demetri replied.
The two men exchanged a glance.
“Do you think that’s wise, Cap?” the other man asked. He raised his free hand to adjust the leather band around his forehead. “I mean, considering what he did?”
Zyla stood to the side to avoid interfering with the conversation. As much as she was worried about Orion, it wasn’t her place to get involved in a discussion between a captain and his crew. She had seen crewmates lose a hand for questioning their superiors. While she could read the concern on the faces of both men, neither appeared as though they feared her uncle’s retaliation. Zyla had been away from him long enough to not know he would respond, so she waited with her breath caught in her throat for whatever might follow.
Demetri didn’t lash out, but his tone carried steel when he replied, “Zyla is the daughter of my deceased brother. She and her companion will be seen to with the best care and consideration we can offer given our current state.”
Both men nodded quickly and said, “Yes, Cap’n.”
Demetri continued with, “As soon as you see the young man to my settee, send Doc to attend us.”
“Yes, Cap’n,” the man with the dreadlocks replied a second time.
They carried Orion down the narrow hallway past the first mate’s room to the captain’s quarters at the end. Zyla flattened herself against the wall to allow them to squeeze past on their way to finish their captain’s request.
“Come in, my dear,” Demetri said when she hesitated at his door.
Tension eased from Zyla’s shoulders when her uncle entered the room and shut the door behind him. Of all of the ships that could have found them, Lunarian, Solariat, and Stasher included, she had happened onto one of the few that wouldn’t turn her immediately back over to those who had branded her in the first place. Someone was definitely watching her back, but it was a sensation she refused to get used to.
Her gaze traveled around the comfortably furnished room. The thickly-paned, armored windows gave a clear view from the stern that showed the endless expanse of sea. The gilded window frame gave the appearance of decoration though Zyla knew from her father’s teachings that the gilding was strong enough to deflect bullets. The hangings and moderate wall sconces on the sides of the door would have been crafted to tip and provide gun holes for a captain’s last defense of his or her ship. The settee, the four poster bed, the dresser, and the nightstand with the bowl on top were all fastened to the floor so as to not provide a danger during maneuvers and storms.
Zyla’s favorite part of the ship, the one she had been so intrigued with when she was but a young girl still cutting her teeth on riggings and cannon maneuvers, was the captain’s meter.
Airships depended on energy to sail the skies. The massive orbs at the front and back of the boat were fueled by the long-burning sunlight from the solar sails or the quick, hot-tempered burst of lighting from the accumulators. Near the captain’s table attached to the wall were the glowing gauges that showed the levels of energy the ship carried. Two blue tubes marked the orbs, red showed the sunlight, and yellow revealed the level of lighting.
The AS Circinus’ levels were far lower than she had seen a ship be in a long time. One of the blue tubes was nearly to the bottom while the other glowed brighter than it should have in an attempt to keep the ship running. The red tube was dangerously close to empty, while the yellow one was completely gone.
“You’re in bad shape,” Zyla said.
Uncle Demetri cleared his throat behind her, letting her know that she had spoken her thought aloud instead of keeping it to herself like she had intended.
“You heard Hayes’ assessment. The stern orb was damaged in a brief scuffle with a Lunarian skirmisher. We floundered for a few days before I gave orders to touch the sea and allow our frontal orb a break before it destabilizes.” He shook his head. “But as they say, every breath on water is one closer to death. We’re sitting flits here.” He gave a visible shudder. “It makes my skin crawl. Especially given what you rode to get here.”
Zyla’s heartbeat slowed when her uncle’s voice lowered and he asked in a hesitant voice as though he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, “Zyla, what was that back there?”
“A crabeater seal, I think,” she replied lightly.
He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a stern look. “Niece, you know what I’m talking about.”
Zyla let out a little sigh and nodded. She took a seat on one of the easy chairs attached to the floor and tried to figure out where to begin.
Demetri took the chair across from hers and waited in silence.
Uncle Demetri had rescued her and taken Orion in without question just because they were related. She owed him an explanation, whether or not she even knew what exactly she had gotten herself into.
“I had a dream.”
Demetri sat up. He watched her closely when he asked, “Like the dream about Dannion’s ship?”
Zyla nodded. She seldom remembered her dreams, but in two instances, there had been a realness to them she couldn’t deny. Both dreams had been tinged in blue light, and the details within them had failed to leave her mind when she awoke.
Demetri’s brows lowered. “I remember when you had that dream about the ship. You were just a little thing.” His gaze took on a fond cast. “You used to run up the masts without any fear, a sprite of good luck, the crew would say. Whenever Zyla was around, good weather would abound.”
Zyla smiled at the saying she had forgotten. The crew had always been good to her, her protector, her village
, her army of adopted brothers and sisters who taught her everything she knew about the skies.
Uncle Demetri crossed his boot over his other knee and studied the worn leather. “And I remember the day you awoke from a nap with sleep still in your eyes and a dazed look on your face. You sought your father out and told him you’d dreamed he would captain his own ship.”
Zyla nodded. She remembered the look of humor the two brothers had shared as they indulged the little girl full of imagination and enthusiasm. Royal blood was lacking in their veins, and so the only way to be granted a captaincy was through twenty years of dedication to the Airborne Defense, a vast amount of money, or a gift. None were common to the Dawes family. The two brothers had been fortunate enough to be employed by a just captain, a rare thing, and rarer still when he allowed Dannion to bring Zyla on board after her mother passed away.
“You told him the key was to talk to the owner of the AS Tuscana Spicer when she came to the next Gathering.” Demetri took off his hat. His long white hair fell around his shoulders when he shook his head. “You were too young to even know what you were talking about. Yet she was at port when we reached the Gathering the next day. Your father did what you told him.”
Zyla took up the story when her uncle’s voice faded away. The look in his gaze was distant as though he saw what she talked about if it were the present.
“Dad came back holding a captain’s hat and a ship’s ledger.” She smiled at little at the memory. “When he walked into the Spicer, the owner had just eaten a bite of pigeon and a bone had gotten lodged in his throat. Dad was able to remove the bone and save the merchant’s life. In his gratitude, he gave my dad a ship.”
Demetri leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his wide-brimmed captain’s hat held in both hands. “And then he threw the ship away when he boarded the Orion.” He crushed the brim without seeming to realize it. “And he threw away the last thing he could have given to you.” He gestured to her hand. “You should never have been branded, Zyla.”
