Skyrider of Renegade Point

by Erik Christensen

  The barkeeper shook his head again. “I really don’t know. The last person he met wouldn’t help him, so he was hanging around until he met someone else.”

  “And he hadn’t met anyone else yet?”

  “No. I’ve been here the whole time. I swear, I’d know for sure if anyone else spoke to him.”

  “This person who wouldn’t help him…tell us everything you know.”

  Baldwyn swallowed hard. “All I know for certain is that I’ll probably die for telling you this. But if I’m going to die anyway…don’t tell them I told you, but a few miles north of the city there are three small islands. They block the entrance to Ransom’s Cove…that’s what they call it.”

  “Who calls it that?” asked Rachel. “The smugglers?”

  The man nodded again. “Named after their leader. Please don’t tell them I sent you there.”

  Rachel nodded to Charlie to let him go, and Baldwyn skulked back into his tavern without looking back. She turned to William and squeezed his shoulder. “Will, we got what we came for. We paid too much for it, but we need to move fast before the trail grows cold.”

  William looked up at her as though noticing her for the first time. “Not yet,” he said. “We need to bury him.”

  “We can do that later,” said Jack. “We can’t bring Oz back, but we can make sure he didn’t die for nothing.”

  William whirled around and lashed out. “We aren’t doing a thing until Oz has a proper burial and we pay our respects. No one respected him when he was alive. He deserves respect now!”

  “We can’t let the trail grow cold,” insisted Rachel. “The barkeeper will talk to someone, the news will reach the smugglers, and they’ll be gone before we get there.”

  “No, Will’s right,” said Maya. “We can’t leave the body here, and a funeral service will help us ease our minds. We shouldn’t fly or do anything dangerous so soon after this sort of trauma.”

  “But we don’t have time,” said Rachel.

  “It won’t take long,” said Maya. “The clinic cemetery always has a couple of open graves. It’s a sad fact, but we can’t save every patient, so we have to be ready for the ones we lose. We can bury Oz there, have a short service, then decide what to do.”

  All eyes turned to William. He barely looked up as he nodded his approval.

  Melissa turned to Clyde, who hadn’t left William’s side since returning with Maya and the others. “Clyde, honey,” she said. “Go get the drones.”

  Melissa pulled William aside, allowing the others to prepare the body as well as they could. The drones arrived a short while later, taking up most of the street, eliciting looks of both curiosity and alarm from across the river. Charlie lifted Oz’s remains onto the dragon and secured it in place.

  Adonis spoke as William was about to mount. “My condolences on your friend’s passing. My brother tells me he had become fond of Oz.”

  William turned to the dragon, startled on several fronts. “I didn’t know your brothers paid attention to human names,” he said. “Adonis, how do you deal with the death of someone close?”

  “We grieve,” answered Adonis. “Much as you do, I think. Though less intensely for some than for others.”

  William nodded. “I suppose it’s the same for us.”

  “How intense is this death for you?” asked Adonis as he lowered his neck for William.

  William paused, then climbed on. He answered in a barely audible voice. “More than I would have expected.”

  The flight to the clinic brought none of the usual joy. The normally vibrant colors of the sea and sky faded to a dull gray, as though hidden behind a mist. His mind was silent of its usual chatter, the constant analysis of the world around him. For now, he simply existed in a daze, allowing the drones to convey him to his destination, refusing even to tighten his coat when the evening wind chilled him.

  When they landed, he slid from Adonis’s back, and stood aside as Charlie lifted the body from the dragon’s back. He followed mindlessly behind the others as they walked to the cemetery and stopped by an open grave, where Jack and Charlie gently lowered the body.

  “Someone should say a few words,” said Maya. “It won’t erase the pain, but it will start the healing process.”

  All eyes turned to William. He met their gazes, knowing why they looked to him, but other than anger, what message did he have? It was the wrong time and place for anger, and would not help anyone, least of all himself. But he was empty of anything else.

  “I can speak, if you want,” said Melissa, her eyes full of pity.

  William nodded, saying nothing.

  “I’ve never spoken at a funeral,” she said, turning to the others. “And I’m still in shock, of course. We all are. So, I apologize if my words seem confused or disorderly. We gather here today to pay respects to Oswald Domnall, who lost his life in the attempt to save someone else’s. He was our butler, our ally, and our friend. His life was far too short, and began in difficult circumstances. He was a bully in his school years, much like his father, but he rose above that and looked for a way to become a better person. He didn’t care about money, or power, or any other trappings that other people strive for—he simply wanted to be…more than he was. And that’s an example I’d like to follow for the rest of my life. We’ll miss you, Oz.”

  Charlie offered William a shovel. “You do the honors,” he said. “You start, and we’ll do the rest.”

  William refused the shovel. “I don’t deserve any honors.”

  “Stop beating yourself up,” said Rachel. “Say good-bye to your friend. We all will.”

  William grabbed the shovel without a word and stabbed it as hard as he could into the dirt. When he dropped the dirt into the grave it felt less like a farewell than burying evidence of a crime.

  “Are you going to be okay?” asked Melissa as she pulled him aside.

  “Oswald?” he asked, avoiding her question.

  “That was his real name. He told me when I visited you for the games. Didn’t you know?”

  William shook his head, shame choking the answer from his throat.

  Melissa wrapped her arms around him and drew him close, whispering in his ear. “I know it hurts. It’ll get better—I promise.”

  He melted into her embrace, but said nothing. They stayed that way until Maya approached them. “We’re nearly done here, aside from a bit of paperwork. I wish it could wait, but it can’t. What are we doing next?”

  “It’s getting late,” said William. “Too late to look for smugglers, no matter what Rachel said before about being in a hurry. Besides, we should fly back to the manor and let Reggie know what happened.”

  Maya nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Charlie made quick work of the burial. He tamped down the last of the dirt as Maya returned. The somber mood remained as they mounted the drones. By unspoken agreement, the riderless dragon took the lead as they flew to the duke’s island. The sea was swallowing the last of the sun’s rays as they landed.

  Reggie took the news badly. An early supper was served and eaten in near silence, and William couldn’t stop glancing at the two empty seats—one at the head of the table, the other beside Melissa. Even Clyde’s usual exuberance was subdued.

  After the dishes were removed, Reggie cleared his throat. “I apologize if this seems insensitive so soon after your friend’s death, but what happens next?”

  Once again, every face turned to William. He sighed, their stares weighing on him. “I’m not sure we’re the right people for this job, Reggie.”

  Stunned silence filled the air as the others gaped at him. Jack was the first to find his voice. “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “After all the dangers you’ve run blindly into, and all your speeches about never abandoning people in need, you’re quitting? Since when are you the sort of person who walks away from a hero’s task?”

  “Since it started costing lives,” said William, his face becoming hot. “The last thing I want is t
o lose Vincent, but I refuse to lead anyone else to their death. We should leave this to the professionals.”

  “But Will, we don’t know how soon Bentsen will get here,” argued Rachel. “In the meantime, the rebels could slip out of the bay, or even leave by another route. We need to stay on the job for at least long enough for the Faywater Guard to return.”

  William threw his napkin on the table. “Then feel free to stay. I’m done.” He stood and left the dining hall, not caring that he left behind a roomful of dropped jaws. He couldn’t continue, not after his stupidity cost a life, and staying at the table would only invite more argument. His only desire was to leave at first light, return home, and immerse himself in the unheroic task of running a barony, regardless of what happened with his tax deferral. And so what if he lost the barony? He could always find something else. His fame alone ensured that.

  He found his room and fell onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing sleep would save him from his thoughts, but knowing it wouldn’t. He looked up when the door creaked open, relaxing when Melissa’s face appeared.

  “Come to talk me out of leaving?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “To help you pack for the trip home.”

  He snorted. “I didn’t even bring a change of clothes.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “You really aren’t going to try to convince me to carry on?” he asked as he rolled onto his side. “You won’t give me a pep talk, tell me I’m better than this, make some argument I can’t counter?”

  She picked up a sweater and began folding it. “What sort of argument could I make?”

  “Well, for starters, you could argue Vincent’s life is worth more than Oz’s.”

  She dropped the sweater and glared at him. “Oz was my friend too. And even if he wasn’t, I still wouldn’t say something so callous.”

  “Well then, you could say that we shouldn’t let his death be in vain.”

  “Okay, but didn’t you say Bentsen would handle it?” she asked with a shrug. “What does it matter if it’s him or us who rescues the duke?”

  He sat up, his energy returning. “But he might not,” he insisted. “He may not get here in time. And he doesn’t have dragons. And—”

  “And he doesn’t have William Whitehall,” said Melissa, her voice raised. “He doesn’t have the Defender of Rebel Falls.”

  William grabbed the sweater and hurled it across the room. “Stop calling me that!” He jumped off the bed and began pacing, his hands clenched in rage. “Everywhere I go, people call me the hero of this, the defender of that. I’m sick of it! They have no idea who I am, or what I’ve lived through. I really hope you didn’t expect to marry the person in those books, because that’s not who I am. Whoever wrote them is an idiot!”

  “You are a hero!” said Melissa, her eyes filling with both tears and anger. “At least you are to me. And I’m not an idiot.”

  He stopped pacing and spun to face her, his pulse pounding in his ears as the room seemed to sway. He reached for the bedpost to keep his balance. “Did I hear you right?” he asked. “Did you—”

  “Yes,” she said with a defiant glare, though the tears still showed. “I wrote those books that you hate so much.”

  He remained silent, shocked senseless, his mind whirling with more emotions than he could process. “How could you?” he asked finally. “How could you make such a mockery of my life?”

  She stomped across the room, wiping her eyes as she went, and picked up the sweater. “Do you honestly think I would purposely make you look foolish? How on Esper did I mock you?”

  “By using what I told you privately and creating a hero no one could possibly live up to, especially me!”

  She stared at him, mouth open for several seconds before responding, her sadness turning into disbelief. “Name one thing I wrote that you didn’t do,” she said. “Name one place you didn’t go, or one word you didn’t say, and I’ll write to my publisher and tell her to stop printing.”

  William brushed her comment away with the wave of a hand and began pacing again. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  “Will, you’re a smart guy, but you’re making no sense. Trust me when I tell you I have no clue at all what you mean.”

  “You made me look fearless!” he roared.

  She stared at him, stunned at his outburst. “What?” she asked in a meek voice.

  “Not once did you show how scared I was. Melissa, I was frightened almost the entire time. Whether it was wolves, or dragons, or giant hornets, or Kaleb Antony, I was scared out of my skull. King’s underpants, I couldn’t even stand up to Jack half the time. You made me look like I wasn’t the least bit fazed by any of it. How can I live up to that when anyone can see that’s not the case?” He sat on the bed and covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes. “And the few times I do manage to overcome my fear, I end up doing something foolish, like getting someone killed.”

  Melissa sat beside him, slipping her arm around him and rocking him gently. “Will, my beloved…the reason I didn’t show your fear is because I didn’t have to. Anyone who reads the books knows exactly what you felt because they know how they would feel in your place. What they love about you—about the person I depicted—is not what you felt, but what you did despite feeling that way. If that’s not heroic, I don’t know what is.”

  His breathing deepened and slowed, and the tension in his shoulders slowly melted under her gentle touch. Still, he kept his face buried in his hands. “So why can’t I now? Why can’t I push my feelings aside this time?”

  “Because it’s not fear this time.”

  He finally looked at her, his eyes burning. “What is it, then?”

  “Guilt,” she said. “You’ve felt responsible your whole life, even before your father died. Aside from your mother I’m probably the only person who realizes this, but I remember how you were in school, how you couldn’t stand to disappoint anyone, even someone you didn’t like. That can be a good quality, and it made me fall in love with you, but it can get you in trouble too. But right now, it has frozen you.”

  “Frozen? How?”

  “Because you feel responsible for rescuing Vincent, while at the same time you feel guilty about Oz’s death, and the last thing you want is for someone else to die because of a burden you accepted for yourself. Who could blame you for being overwhelmed with two powerful feelings tearing you apart? No wonder you want to drop everything and go home.”

  He remained silent for a long while. He loved this about her, that she would wait for him to think things through before piling on. When he was ready, he turned to her, calm but uncertain.

  “How do I get past this?” he asked. “How can I move forward when guilt pulls me in two directions?”

  “By recognizing which one you can do something about.”

  A candle flickered to life in his mind, like the one Vincent had shown him on the distant shore. “Oz is gone,” he said. “And I can’t do anything about it, no matter how guilty I feel.”

  She nodded, encouraging him to find the words on his own.

  He went on. “Maybe I can get Vincent back, maybe I can’t. I might lose another friend, or even my wife. I might even die myself. But at least I’ll be doing something.”

  She pulled him closer, resting his head on her shoulder. “And then you can live with yourself.”

  He shook his head slowly, unconvinced. “I still don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I have it in me anymore.”

  “Don’t decide now,” she said as she kissed his forehead. “For tonight, just sleep.”

  As they lay in bed, William stroked her hair, his mind still a battleground, but one he understood better now. He was only now starting to appreciate her powers of persuasion. How had he never noticed it before? Even as a child, she could bring others to her viewpoint. Like when the other children asked him about his father’s death, she convinced them not to bring up such a painful subject. And later, when his
mother’s reduced income didn’t allow for new clothing every year, she willed the entire school into overlooking it rather than teasing him as they had first tried to do.

  How did he deserve such luck? “Thank you for being with me,” he whispered.

  “Hmm?” she muttered, waking from a light sleep.

  “Nothing,” he said. “Just thinking out loud. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  He carefully extricated himself from her embrace and slipped a pillow under her head. As he slipped quietly through the doorway, he motioned for Clyde to stay, then crept along the hallway to the stairs. Pausing to listen for voices, he was rewarded with silence.

  After quickly descending the stairs, a quick peek told him the dining hall was empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, he found the giant map of Faywater Bay and spread it over the table. Pulling a lantern closer, he began to pore over the map. Before long, he found what he was looking for.

  Three small islands north of the city.

  Chapter 30

  William rose early after a short sleep, leaving the warmth of his bed to stare out the window and enjoy the pre-dawn silence. He found the dining hall empty when he and Clyde went down, and helped himself to the tea that was waiting. The map had been folded and put away, and someone had thoughtfully left a pile of greens for Clyde, which the dragon gleefully tucked into as William buttered several slices of bread.

  Jack and Rachel arrived as he finished his breakfast, but said nothing, only glancing his way for a moment before sitting. Maya and Charlie soon followed, and they too declined to speak. When Melissa showed up and sat without greeting him, he’d finally had enough.

  “Why on Esper is everyone walking on eggshells?” he asked.

  The others all looked at each other, deciding who should speak. Jack finally broke the silence. “We’re all wondering what your plan is,” he said.

  William allowed only a trace of a playful smirk to cross his face. “Was there ever any question?”

  Jack crumpled his napkin and threw it at William. “King’s leaky boots, Will—you know very well there was a question,” said Jack. “Last night you said—”