by Cheree Alsop
She had sacrificed so much to follow her father’s beliefs. The fact that she was on the Circinus taking the same course of her own free will was hard enough to accept without the knowledge that she was bringing Orion with her. He had agreed because of her; there was no doubt in her mind about that. Did she really deserve such faith, or was she going to lead him to the same death her father had endured?
“Stasher in sight,” a voice called from the crow’s nest.
Zyla looked up to see Therice with one of Jack’s geared telescopes. The woman adjusted a dial, peered into the distance again, and shouted, “It’s the Noblest.”
“Has anyone traded with the Noblest before?” Captain Dawes asked his crew.
Several shook their heads.
Veldean nodded from her place near the main mast. “I have.”
“And?” the captain prompted.
The bald woman lifted a shoulder. “It was when I sailed aboard the AS Aquila. We got caught in a storm and needed an emergency resupply. The Noblest was sufficient but expensive if I remember correctly.”
“Do you know the captain’s loyalties?” Demetri pressed with a hint of impatience in his voice. “Can they be trusted?”
“A quick-tongued, rather handsome civilian for a captain, no sides chosen, if I’m not mistaken,” Veldean replied.
Captain Dawes nodded. “Beggars can’t be choosers. At this point, that ship and the remains of the lighting pod Orion picked up are all that stand between us and the sea.” He lifted his voice. “All hands on deck. Therice, signal them in.”
“Yes, Cap’n,” she called down.
Everyone ran for their stations. Several crew members climbed the ropes to lower the solar sails for boarding. Others tightened the main sail and fore sail to capture what little breeze could be found to ease the pressure on the lighting pod. Therice waved the yellow and the yellow and black checkered flags to request the Stasher to stop. Cannons were readied and guns checked in case the ship was a front for Solariats, something that had definitely happened before. Zyla took to the forecastle deck with her uncle to watch the approaching ship.
The Noblest ran up the blue white and red stripped flag to show their agreement to being boarded beneath the green and white flag of the wandering merchants. Therice changed her flags to the blue flag with the white X across it to signal that the Circinus was stopping.
“Stow the sails,” Captain Dawes called out.
The crew was quick to obey. Everyone waited with bated breaths as the Noblest pulled along the port side. Zyla scanned the crew of the Stasher anxiously, but while they watched with the interest of those who had been without company for a while, she couldn’t read hostility on their faces and there was no sign of the Solariat red or Lunarian gray uniforms.
Ropes were thrown and secured with quick, well-practiced knots, the ships were pulled together, and the plank was drawn across.
A dark-haired man in a filigreed dark blue suit, a sword at his hip, and wearing white gloves strode onto the plank.
“I am Captain Dunst of the AS Noblest,” he announced. He adjusted the cream-colored cravat at his throat and smiled at them. “We have been sorely starved for business in these trying times. Welcome aboard and be encouraged to spend as much or more than your coin pouches can cover.”
Laughter eased the tension aboard the Circinus.
Captain Dawes mounted the plank and crossed to the other captain. Zyla kept her hand on the cutlass she had belted to her side just in case things took a turn for the worst.
“Thank you for your time,” her uncle said. “We have a damaged orb and could use a few pods to get us to the Gathering.”
Captain Dunst waved his hand to indicate the Noblest. “My ship is at your service. Welcome aboard.” He smiled. “I would appreciate any news of the wars. We have been out of reach for some time and are heading back to the Gathering ourselves. Any light you could give on the current situation would be greatly appreciated.” He held out his hand. “I would be honored if you and your first mate would join me and mine for a bit of refreshment in my quarters.”
Captain Dawes shook the other captain’s hand. “Thank you for your hospitality. My first mate is sleeping off an injury, but my niece is aboard and would be happy to stand in his stead, I am sure.”
Zyla’s head lifted at that. She found herself looking into Captain Dunst’s green eyes that creased at the corners with his smile.
“A lovelier stand-in first mate has never been seen in these airs,” he said. He removed his dark blue captain’s hat and flourished it while he gave a low bow. “It would be a pleasure to have the honor of your company, Miss.”
Zyla fought back the ridiculous urge to blush. The fact that everyone on the Circinus crew was watching made her hold her composure. She nodded stiffly and crossed the plank to join them.
“Ladies first,” Captain Dunst said, indicating the way to his quarters. “And may I introduce you to my first mate, Scarlet Banestone?”
A woman with short black hair and a wearing a red hat with a long ostrich feather on it waited by the door. Her smile failed to meet her eyes, which glittered with a dark, watchful scowl. Ostrich feathers were rare since the birds were extinct; the presence of it being used in such a cavalier fashion attested to how good business was for the Stasher.
“Pleased to meet you,” Zyla’s uncle said with a respectful bow.
The woman nodded in return, but didn’t speak. Instead, she watched Captain Dawes without blinking. He cleared his throat with discomfort and ducked past her after the captain of the Noblest.
Zyla chose a simple nod of courtesy which the first mate returned. She walked to the door with an uneasy feeling. The captain’s tale of being at air for so long without company didn’t sit right with Zyla. She vowed to keep alert.
A thought struck her before she reached the door at the end of the hall. She turned to her uncle. “I had planned to get a few articles of clothing for, well….” She glanced at the Circinus and figured she would rather keep their secrets away from the green-eyed captain of the Noblest. “For our guest who lost his luggage.”
Captain Dawes nodded. “I’ll send word for Samuelson to add it to his order.”
The first mate of the Noblest held open the door to the captain’s quarters and stepped aside for them to pass. Zyla found herself in a room furnished to the point of overstuffed. She took the chair Captain Dunst indicated.
“I feel you would be most comfortable in my newly-acquired velvet wingback,” he told her. He ran a hand over the red cloth. “I find it’s my favorite place to pass the time with a good book.”
Zyla gave him a curious look. “I didn’t know captains had the luxury of leisure time.”
Captain Dunst chuckled. “Well put, my darling.” He shared a knowing look with Captain Dawes. “We don’t often, and generally only at dock or the wee hours of the morn when the air currents are mild and the crew is weary.”
He picked a book from the shelf beside Zyla. The action made him lean close enough to her that she caught the scent of the cologne he was wearing. It was masculine but not overwhelming. When he pulled back, he handed her the book.
“Consider this a loan.”
Zyla stared at the hard-covered tome she held. “I-I can’t take this!” she protested. “It’s worth a fortune!” She couldn’t remember the last time she had held a book that wasn’t a flimsy, copied hand-me-down. Captain Dawes had a few hardbacks in his quarters, but they were more for viewing than touching, and those were merely copies. The scrollwork on the cover, the filigreed title, and the finely-pressed leather said that this was no second-hand novel. A book like that was worth more than her uncle’s ship.
“Nonsense,” Captain Dunst replied. “You take it and enjoy it. Like you said, I don’t have the time for much reading.” He winked at her. “Perhaps you could enjoy the time for me.”
Zyla didn’t know what to say. The book was worth far too much to be given away, loaned out or not. It should have
been locked somewhere in a glass case with a dehumidifier, a set of white gloves, and in a dustless room, not in her callused hands.
Scarlet set a tea serving on the small table that just fit within the cluster of chairs. She poured the tea with finesse, but she didn’t bother to hide the distaste she felt at serving them.
“One lump or two?” Captain Dunst asked Zyla.
She couldn’t help staring when he lifted the lid off of a small, porcelain cup to reveal actual sugar cubes. Zyla couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed sugar, or even honey. The Circinus had run out of such delicacies long before rescuing Zyla and Orion, and given her status as a branded aboard the Taurus, it was far longer still.
“Two, please,” she said. She was proud her voice didn’t give away her awe.
The captain put three lumps into her cup before handing it over. Zyla watched as the sugar slowly dissolved into the warm liquid that smelled of lavender and dandelions. She picked up the ridiculously tiny spoon that had been given to her along with the cup and stirred it as though she was royalty and dined in such a way all the time.
Her uncle’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched her and sipped from his own cup. Miniscule drops of tea clung to his white mustache when he tipped his head back.
Smalltalk, mostly from the captains, filled the conversation. Subjects like air current changes, hail damage to solar panels, and altitude impact on timber bored Zyla, but she enjoyed her tea and the fine pastries Scarlet brought in and found that the time passed quickly.
“Well, we’d better get going if we’re to make it to the Gathering on time,” Captain Dawes finally said.
Zyla set her empty tea cup on the table with a twinge of regret. She wondered when she would hold something so delicate and beautiful again.
Standing, she clutched the book in one hand and held out her other one to Captain Dunst.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” she said, giving him a true smile.
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the backs of her fingers. Zyla felt her cheeks heat with the blush that ran across them.
“It’s been a pleasure, my dear,” he said. Still holding her hand, he raised his head and said, “But what makes you think you’re leaving?”
A shard of uncertainty ran through Zyla. “We, uh, need to go,” she said. She glanced at her uncle. “Don’t we?”
He nodded. His sharp gaze flickered from Captain Dunst to Scarlet. The woman stood in front of the only door with a hand resting lightly on the sword at her waist.
“We do need to be going,” he said, taking a step in that direction. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“It’s no bother,” Captain Dunst said.
The edge of laughter to his tone made Zyla’s lips want to pull back in a snarl that definitely wouldn’t be ladylike.
The captain continued with, “No bother at all, given that a pigeon carrying the likeness of our beautiful miss came this morning from the Orion along with the interesting story of how she and a blue-eyed freak brought down a Lunarian warship and a Solariat trade vessel.” He turned his gaze on Zyla. “There’s a pretty price on your head, my love, and I’ve a feeling that if we search the Circinus, we’ll find the freak as well.” His smiled turned into a smirk. “King Tolier will pay a pretty penny to see the both of you in chains.”
A chill ran through Zyla. She was about to snap back something that would no doubt get her slapped when a thud sounded outside the door.
Scarlet peered through one of the spyholes. Her eyes widened and she turned to the captain. “There’s a man out there with a—”
Whatever she was about to say was cut off when the door was burst through with enough force to throw it off its hinges. Tower stood there with a club in one hand and a skinny, unconscious member of the Noblest crew under his other arm.
He nodded at Zyla and her uncle. “Sorry to interrupt, Cap’n,” he said. His deep voice rumbled through the room. “But this here gent mentioned they’d been looking for us, not the other way around, and we got concerned and took matters into our own hands, along with a double helping of the supplies.” He paused, then said with a chuckle, “Or a triple helping. Seamus said he’s as tired of salted gull as the rest of us.”
Captain Dawes gave him a relieved smile. “That’s just fine, Tower. Thank you for your help. Please tell the crew to prepare for departure.”
Tower dropped the man and saluted. “Aye aye, Cap.”
Captain Dawes motioned for Zyla to follow.
She paused by the table and took the little tea cup filled with sugar cubes, then shot Captain Dunst a glare. “This is for pretending to be a nice guy.”
As she stalked back up the hallway, she heard her uncle say, “My crew has no doubt disabled your orbs. Jack our tinker has a clever contraption that reverses the energy for twenty-four hours. If you tamper with it, you risk blowing the entire ship out of the air.”
He shut the door behind him and followed Zyla back to the Circinus.
“That was dicey,” she said when they reached the safety of their ship.
Captain Dawes grinned and replied, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, and that was good tea.”
“That was great tea,” Zyla agreed.
She lifted the delicate cup of sugar cubes and her book. “Also, I now have reading material.”
Her uncle chuckled. He raised his voice and hollered, “Cast off and set our course for the Gathering!”
The solar sails were opened, the main sails raised, and the electric hum of the orbs increased as they drew power from the new lighting pods. Zyla couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at the devastated expressions of the Noblest’s crew as their pricey bounty sailed away.
Captain Dunst caught her eye and he gave a single wave. His expression was calm with a hint of humor as though their escape was only a minor hiccup.
“See you soon,” he mouthed.
“Never,” Zyla replied.
She turned away with his smirk burned into her mind.
Chapter Ten
Orion
I opened my eyes and the darkness flooded with blue light. I wasn’t sure I would ever get used to that. I reached for the goggles Jack had made and slid them over my eyes. The darkness returned. I let my head fall back onto the pillow and listened to the workings of the Circinus.
The creak of timber and rush of the wind past the hull lulled my senses. I had certainly been accustomed to ships before, though trying to remember felt like swimming through tar. The memory eventually eluded me, but the sensation of familiarity remained. The smell of damp wood, the sound of footsteps above my head, the muted shouts of the crew, and the creaking of the timber felt like a second home, but the sway was wrong.
I pushed up gingerly to a sitting position and tried to reason with my thoughts. There wasn’t a sway so much as a steady rush forward. It was obvious the new lightning pod had fueled the orbs back to full power. The slight shushing sound of the wind past the hull near my head didn’t falter. Perhaps that was the problem. Why is it that I felt more at home when the ship had been in the water?
I lifted my arm to grab the door frame in order to pull myself up, then sucked in a breath as pain jolted through my shoulder. I held it as the memory of other, more intense pain spread through my chest. The feeling of suffocating while falling returned. The world spun. Colors warred with shadow, light with darkness, and I couldn’t remember how to breathe. I looked up to see faces starring down at me as I fell. One of them belonged to a girl whose tears made my heart ache. She reached after me, but I was too far gone.
I tore off my goggles and let the light flood through the tiny room. The darkness left along with the sickening memory. I grasped after it like someone scrambling for coins as they fell between the planks of a deck, but the image was already gone. I hated the wooly, pushing through pine pitch feeling of trying to remember. I was completely lost, a nobody in a world that felt determined to kill me.
I buried
my face in my hands, but refused to let my frustrations get the best of me. I slid my hands back and pressed them against each side of my skull. Somewhere inside was the answer to my lost memories. A bump beneath my fingers told where one of the Indus crew members had shown their disliking for me. A search showed a few others, but the bruises from their beating didn’t hurt like before. A wry grin slipped stubbornly across my face at the thought that maybe one way to recover from an injury was to receive another that hurt worse.
Determined not to wallow in self-pity any longer, I pushed up from the bed. Someone had set a black shirt made of thin cotton and a pair of loose pants on the single bookcase. I wondered how long I had been asleep. I gingerly pulled on the clean clothes and made my way to the door. I slid on the goggles so that the sunlight wouldn’t floor me, then followed the path Zyla and I had taken in reverse.
Zyla was the one anchor I had in this world. My thoughts drifted to the puzzle that was the girl who had unknowingly linked herself to me the moment our eyes met in that wretched belly of a ship. She was a lifeline, a blue-eyed, golden-haired, wisp of a lifeline who had turned out to be more warrior than weakling. From what I had seen, she didn’t shirk from a fight, and the respect in the captain’s eyes for his niece was unmistakable. Hers was an impressive family.
The word made my chest ache. I put a hand to it to stop the pain. Did I have a family? I knew somewhere, I probably did. Guilt filled me at the fact that I couldn’t remember them. I struggled to bring to the front of my mind any image of my mother. Nothing, not even the brush of a hand on my cheek or the memory of lips on my forehead came to mind. Instead, a sense of total and utter loss filled the void. I had truly forgotten everything.
I gritted my teeth and followed my growling stomach to the galley. A glance inside showed it to be filled with a laughing, jostling crew.
“Ho, there,” a man with flapping jowls and a stained apron around his bountiful stomach greeted me as soon as I paused near the door. “Welcome to my lair. Care for some slop?”
