Orion's Fall

by Cheree Alsop

Zyla covered the crescent moon brand with her other hand. “We both knew the risk.” She lowered her gaze as she fought to keep the pain from surfacing in her voice. “And he paid a price far dearer than I did.”

  Demetri gave a single nod of acknowledgement. The silence that filled the room was heavy with sorrow. None of them could have guessed where they would have ended up.

  Zyla glanced up at her uncle and attempted to break the mood with humor. “Now you captain your own ship.”

  “A stolen ship crewed by Revolters,” Demetri replied with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “And all the more fun to fly because of it.”

  “Even with a faulty stern orb,” Zyla said.

  Demetri chuckled. “Yes, though it’ll be the death of us if we can’t fly soon.” He glanced at her. “The Leviathan has been spotted again.”

  A shiver ran down Zyla’s spine. “Rumors,” she said.

  Demetri nodded. “Always rumors, but enough to keep a good captain from touching the sea if at all possible.” His gaze moved to the form that lay on his couch. “Which leads us to your situation. What is this other dream?”

  Zyla followed his gaze to Orion. The young man’s eyes were closed tight as though he was in pain. His battered body had to hurt, yet he had risked his life to save hers. She had no idea how she had gotten out of the belly of the AS Indus. She remembered feeling as though she was drowning, and then she had awoken with Orion’s mouth on hers, his air giving her life despite the fact that they were still underwater and behind a terrifying set of fangs.

  “It’s about the prophecy,” she began.

  Demetri recited the prophecy that had been so pivotal to every Revolter. “In the heavens stars align, to bring us freedom in their time. With faith in foe and sea divine, the fates change footsteps with the nine. Orion’s fall and freedom’s rise bring independence to the skies.”

  They were the last words Oracle Frizon had spoken before she succumbed to her years and left her mortal bindings. She was the last of her lineage, the final Oracle in a world in dire need of guidance. Scholars had picked her words apart for meaning and the ruling classes hid from the potential unseating they predicted.

  The Revolters had assigned their own symbolism to the Oracle’s final prophecy. Orion was the name of the great Class Eight Citadel Airship, the only one of its kind and the stronghold of the two ruling bodies of the world. The Volters, as they were known, had studied the stars with their own scholars and deduced when the alignment was to take place. Thousands of Volters, Zyra and her father included, positioned themselves to finish the Orion when it fell. But their scholars had been wrong.

  “The prophecy is what got your father killed,” Demetri said with bitterness in his voice.

  Zyla nodded. She tugged on a thread that dangled from the knee seam of her tattered pants. “When the constellation vanished instead of the ruling ship, too many people died.”

  “And others, like me, literally jumped ship at the opportune moment,” Demetri said. Instead of boasting at his brilliance of timing, heaviness showed in his voice. He lowered his head. “But I left you defenseless to their wrath. I should have known they wouldn’t have mercy on a child.”

  Zyla shook her head. “I’m not a child anymore.”

  “But you should be,” Demetri replied. “You should be carefree on the Scorpio, not a branded on some Lunarian warship turned trader.”

  That brought a small smile to Zyla’s face. “You kept tabs on me.”

  “Of course,” her uncle replied with warmth in his gaze. “I intended to buy you back.”

  “Or kidnap me?” Zyla asked, her tone teasing.

  Demetri chuckled. “Why buy what you can steal in the face of Lunarian pigeon mire? It’ll sting more that way.”

  “Dad would approve,” Zyla said.

  The warmth of being with family once again faded when her uncle glanced at Orion once more.

  “So what does the boy have to do with this, and why did that creature obey him?” Demetri asked.

  His gaze held hers, commanding her to stop stalling. His eyes were so like her father’s she found herself speaking before she had a chance to gather her thoughts.

  “His name is Orion,” she began.

  “Orion,” her uncle repeated flatly. His dark gaze moved from the form on his settee and back to Zyla.

  Zyla nodded. “He was a prisoner on the Indus. Captain Holland tried to take him, but I think they clipped one of the Taurus’ orbs.”

  “An entire warship goes down, and yet here you are with this boy who commands sea creatures at your side.” He studied her face. “And his name is Orion.”

  Zyla nodded.

  “Tell me about your dream,” her uncle directed.

  Chapter Four

  Orion

  Was the memory of riding on the head of a giant sea creature a dream or reality? Why did my face hurt? I sucked in a breath and winced. When did I break a rib?

  I raised a hand and found that someone had bandaged my wrists where the manacles had cut them. My cheeks and forehead felt cool. When I touched my face, a thin salve coated my fingers. Wraps had been tied around my chest tight enough to ease some of the pain from my ribs.

  I pushed up to a sitting position and waited until the pounding in my head eased enough to stand. The floor moved under my feet and I had to grab a wall sconce to keep standing. It made a squeak of protest, but slid to the right to reveal a hole. Intrigued, I bent to look through it. A small ship’s hallway was revealed. The thought that I had somehow awoken in a captain’s quarters told me I was far more lost than I thought.

  I glanced around the room in the hopes that I could make some sense out of the strange direction my life had taken. The cage, being yelled at in a language that only made sense after Zyla appeared, struggling to breathe and then not drowning in the sea were all stark memories. I tried to think of what had happened before that, but it was a muddy haze. Blurred faces, a ledge, and the sensation of suffocating were all I could remember. I gave up with the hopes that it would come back eventually.

  I opened the door and made my way down the hall. I felt severely underdressed in only a pair of extremely tattered pants and nothing else, but I didn’t figure raiding a captain’s closet would go over well. Whoever had left me there had at least some trust in me or I wouldn’t have been alone. The fact that there were bandages instead of chains around my wrists spoke volumes.

  I reached the door and opened it, then paused at the sound of voices arguing on the quarter deck.

  “I don’t trust him as far as I could throw a cannonball,” a man’s voice said.

  “I’m not asking you to trust him; I’m asking you to trust me.” I recognized Zyla’s voice. It was filled with exasperation.

  “If he is who you think he is, things are about to get worse before they get better,” the first voice said. “I just don’t want to see you get caught up again in something that’s going to destroy your life. You have freedom. Take advantage of it.”

  “I’m as free as a branded on the end of a long leash can ever be.” Zyla said in a flat tone. “You said so yourself, Uncle. We’ll never be free as long as these brands mean something. And if Orion can change that—”

  “That’s a big if you’re placing on his shoulders, Zyla. You’ve known him for what, a day? Who’s to say he isn’t some wind nomad that got caught stealing the Indus’ millery?”

  “Do you really believe that?” Zyla asked in a quiet voice.

  Silence followed. I pushed the door open to go out, but when the sunlight flooded in, it pierced my eyes with such blinding pain I fell back a few steps and had to cover my eyes with my hands. Tears burned on my cheeks. It hurt so much to see in the sunlight that my body tried to fight it and tell me not to. But there was one thing I had seen in my brief glimpse out the door, and it was branded in the white-hot light that felt as though it was burned in my eyelids.

  I had caught a glimpse of Zyla and the ship’s captain that I barely remembered from wh
en we embarked. Nobody else was on the quarter deck. The one thing I could still see was a form climbing over the side of the ship. He held a blade in one hand that caught the light of the sun. His path would take him directly behind the captain, and there was no doubt about the intentions from such an effort.

  I had to go back out. Zyla was in trouble. I didn’t know the captain or the crew, but I refused to sit by and watch.

  I forced my eyes open, shouldered the door aside, and ran onto the quarter deck.

  “Look out!” I shouted.

  The faint blur of shadow amid the brilliant white let me know that the man had indeed reached his goal. A flash of lighting amid the sunshine was his curved sword raised to kill.

  Time seemed to slow. I heard the captain’s gasp when he realized his danger but was too close to get away. Zyla stumbled back in a blur of green and blue. The assassin grunted something and brought his sword down, then I was on him.

  I ducked beneath the sword and tackled the man around the waist. My moment threw us over the railing and down to the main deck. We hit so hard the sword flew from his hand. Stunned, I tried to move when a shout sounded overhead.

  “We’re under attack! All hands on deck!” A horn sounded in a high note that repeated over and over.

  The pounding of feet scurrying over the wooden decks brought my senses back. I pushed to my knees and shaded my eyes from the sunlight. Squinting, I made out the form of the man I had tackled. He was struggling back to his feet. The sword lay a few feet away. If he reached it, there was no doubt I would be in trouble.

  He lunged for the blade. I threw myself sideways and knocked his feet out from under him. I caught up the sword, shoved him down with a foot on his chest, and put the tip of the blade to his throat. He stilled at the touch of the cold metal. I could feel his chest heaving under my foot. My eyes were shut tight against the pain of the light, but he couldn’t move an inch without me feeling it.

  The crew’s footsteps quickly surrounded us. Nobody spoke until the captain cleared his throat.

  “I guess the question of if I can trust you has been answered.”

  I nodded, but couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

  “Tower, Michelson, lock him in the brig.”

  I stepped back and let them pull the man to his feet. The tip of the curved sword on the deck kept me steady.

  “He’s coming for you, Demetri,” the man growled as he was dragged away.

  “Who’s coming?” Hayes demanded. Their footsteps paused.

  “Lapero,” the man replied. “He knows where you are. I begged him to let me go first. He promised me your ship if I brought him your head.”

  Several of the crew muttered threats at that.

  “We’ll send Lapero your head,” a woman’s voice to my right warned.

  “He knows where you are,” the man continued, ignoring them. “You’re a sitting grebe, Captain Dawes. You can’t run anymore. And trust me when I say the Solariats will pay a pretty penny when we bring you back.”

  “Lock him in the brig!” the captain shouted.

  The sound of the footsteps faded quickly away. Talking arose from the crew.

  “We should run.”

  “We’re dead in the water,” someone pointed out. “We don’t have a choice.”

  “So we sit here and wait?” another asked incredulously.

  “Yes, exactly,” replied a voice I vaguely recognized.

  “What are you saying, Hayes?” Captain Dawes asked. “Are you suggesting we get captured.”

  “Not at all,” the first mate replied. “I’m suggesting we lay our own trap.”

  “We can’t best a gunner,” a woman said.

  “We can if we have the element of surprise,” Hayes replied.

  The captain grunted. Silence filled the deck until he said, “Approved. Find out how much time we have.”

  “Yes, Cap’n,” Hayes replied. His feet scuffed on the wood when he turned.

  “And Hayes?”

  The man paused.

  The captain continued with, “If he doesn’t play nice, a few broken fingers can be a great motivator.”

  Cheer showed in the first mate’s voice when he replied, “Aye aye, Cap.”

  Softer steps reached my side.

  “Orion, are you alright?” Zyla asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied quietly. I didn’t want to admit weakness in front of a ship full of strangers, but I couldn’t even look at her.

  A hand touched my shoulder. I flinched at the unknown contact.

  “Is something wrong with your eyes, son?”

  The captain’s voice was quieter, filled with the breathless knowledge of someone who had just looked death in the face and survived.

  I drew in a calming breath and nodded. “The sunlight hurts.”

  It was an understatement. The light felt like a thousand hot pokers being driven into my retinas. My ribs, my bruises, and everything else fell away at the pain. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the raging agony of the sunlight through my eyelids. It was all I could do to keep from hunching over to cover them up.

  “To my quarters,” the captain replied. “Doc?”

  “Coming,” a woman said.

  Zyla guided me up the short stairs to the quarter deck and into the welcoming darkness of the hallway. I opened my eyes just enough to not stumble as we followed the captain back to his rooms.

  Zyla helped me to the settee, then crouched in front of me with an anxious expression. Even the light coming through the windows hurt. I leaned an elbow on my knee and covered my eyes with a hand to lessen the pain.

  “You should have been sleeping,” she said with a scolding tone.

  My mouth twisted into a smile at her wry tone and I replied, “I got stir crazy.”

  “Lucky for me,” the captain said.

  His somber tone said how seriously he was taking the attack.

  “You would have stopped him if I didn’t,” I told him.

  The captain gave a noncommittal grunt. “It was too close. Lapero hires trained assassins. He’s nearly caught up to me before, but that was the closest by far.” The sound of his feet shuffling slightly told of his discomfort when he said, “You saved my life back there. What made you do that?”

  “You took us in. I awoke on your couch. It takes trust to leave a stranger in your room.”

  “Stupidity, more like,” Demetri replied. “Doc told me you’d be out for hours. I’m lucky you weren’t the assassin.”

  I smiled at his wry tone. “Zyla wouldn’t have let me on your ship.”

  “Yes, well, that’s something we’ll discuss later. For now, let’s figure out what’s wrong with your eyesight,” the captain said in a speculative tone.

  “Draw the shades,” Zyla said.

  I glanced up to see her doing it even as she said it.

  “Is Doc supposed to work in the dark?” her uncle asked.

  “It helps to know what you’re dealing with,” Zyla replied.

  I rubbed my eyes. They ached, but nowhere near as badly as they had in the sun.

  “Show them,” Zyla said quietly.

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” I replied.

  Her hand touched my shoulder. “It’s alright. You’re with friends.”

  Her words calmed my pounding heart a bit. I lowered my hand and turned to look at her. When I opened my eyes, the others gasped.

  “Your eyes are glowing,” the captain said needlessly.

  A blue hue reflected off whatever direction I looked. I glanced at Zyla’s face. She met my gaze and the blue light reflected in her blue eyes. It was an unsettling effect. A bruise I hadn’t noticed before colored her cheek. I wondered when in our flight she had gotten hurt.

  “Look at his chest,” Zyla told them.

  “Take those off,” the captain commanded.

  I sat up straight as the Doc’s fingers worked swiftly on the bandages. Her touch was cold when she brushed my skin. I glanced at her, but the wo
man’s gaze was on my chest. When the bandages fell away, the red-headed doctor sat back on her heels and studied me like some rare form of bug.

  “Is that the Orion constellation?” the captain asked.

  Zyla nodded. “All nine stars.”

  The doctor reached a hand out to touch the tattoos, then paused and looked at me. “Can I?”

  I nodded.

  Her fingers brushed the strange designs. “These have got to be worth a fortune. What kind of metal is that?”

  When I realized she was talking to me, I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

  “How is that possible?” Captain Dawes asked.

  I lowered my gaze and studied my hands. “I don’t remember anything before I woke up in the cage where Zyla found me.” I made myself look at them. “I’m sorry I don’t have any answers.”

  “You may not have answers, but you saved my life without regard for your own.” Captain Dawes studied me from where he leaned against the edge of the wall with his arms crossed. “I don’t meet a lot of people in this world who surprise me, but you do.”

  I didn’t know whether that was a good thing or bad, and by the look on his face, he didn’t either.

  Demetri’s gaze sharpened. “Doc, can you ask Jack to stop in? I don’t think this boy requires your assistance right now.”

  She gave my chest one last look before she rose. I didn’t like the gleam in her eyes as though she saw a pile of gold. When she turned away, it was with reluctance.

  “Yes, Captain,” she said. She looked back down at me, but it was my chest she looked at when she said, “And if you need me again, don’t hesitate to call.”

  “I don’t trust her,” Zyla said the moment the door shut, saving me the same words.

  “A person who doesn’t bother to hide what drives her?” Captain Dawes replied. “That’s the one person you can trust. Doc’s never hidden her love of money. Hers is a motivating factor I can understand. It’s the ones you don’t know what drives them that you need to be careful of.”

  I had to concede that the captain had a point. “Would she kill for it?” I asked.

  The captain watched me a thoughtful expression. “From a different crew, probably, but on my ship, she knows my word is law. You’re safe beneath my sails.”