by Chris Miller
“You better get Rob. He ain’t going to like it none, but I’m going to need his strength as well as yours to hold me while I’m over the rails. I’m not the smallest of men, as you may have noticed,” he said, slapping his belly.
With a wink of his good eye he stomped out the door, his mood slightly better now that he had a plan in mind.
Before long, Rob, Trista and I had all gathered around the helm, listening to Stoney’s instructions. He had strapped himself into a rope harness and wrapped the slack around several of the rails in a make-shift pulley system that would help hold his weight. A second safety rope was dropped over the opposite side, strung under the ship then back up the near side where it was fastened to Stoney’s rope, a few feet up from his harness.
“All I gots to do is get down over the edge for a quick look-see and find out what, if anything, is wrong with the rudder below,” he explained. “Once I’m down low enough, Rob, you’ll double up the rope on this railing and Hunter will take the other rope over there, to bring me under as close to the rudder as possible. Got it?”
We nodded.
“Trista, I’ll need you to relay messages to the lads and to steer the rudder when I tells ya to, okay?”
“Okay,” Trista said.
“For obvious reasons, I normally prefer to do this over land. But since that’s not an option, the main thing to remember is not to let go of the rope. Otherwise, you’ll be flying solo for the remainder of the trip, and old Stoney here will be joining the poor souls of those unfortunate enough to know the mysteries of the deep.”
Rob’s face whitened at the thought, but honestly, none of us was comfortable with the situation.
“Well, no use putting it off any longer. Here I go.”
“Be careful,” Trista said as fearless Stoney began his descent to the underside of the ship. Rob and I let the rope out inch by nervous inch until Trista motioned for us to stop.
“So far, so good,” Stoney yelled up to Trista in a voice all of us could hear. “Now, send Hunter to pull me in closer.” We followed the procedure Stoney had laid out for us with careful precision. With the rope doubled up around the pulley, Rob could easily carry his weight alone. I crossed the deck and pulled Stoney in toward the rudder with the other rope.
When at last he was in place, Trista performed a series of tests. She turned the wheel this way and that following Stoney’s commands, but in the end, all it proved was that there was nothing wrong with the rudder after all.
“Bring me up; we’re through here,” Stoney called out at last. I slowly released my rope, allowing the weight of the man to swing back to Rob’s side of the ship once more. But just as I was about to tie off my rope, disaster struck.
Rob shifted to strengthen his stance, taking a short step backward with his left foot. As he set his foot down, his heel landed on the round pit of starfruit Boojum had carelessly tossed away after polishing off the stolen snack. The slimy pit rolled under Rob’s foot, dropping him to the ground with a painful twist of his ankle.
Howling in pain, Rob released his end of the rope. The safety rope that held Stoney unwound in an instant and slipped over the edge before anything could be done about it. Suddenly, the rope in my hands became the sole lifeline to Stoney, swinging him under the rudder to the opposite side of the ship. The full weight of the man pulled me to the floor, dragging me closer to the edge.
“Hunter, don’t let go!” Trista shouted, racing to my aid.
I plowed painfully into the wooden rails but somehow, against all odds, I managed to keep hold of the rope. Trista and Rob grasped the last few remaining feet of my line before my strength gave out.
With every ounce of strength left in us, we began to pull together, hoisting our captain back up to safety.
“Let’s…not do that…again…” Stoney said, looking completely exhausted and frightened as he climbed over the rails and collapsed on the deck. Having come within inches of his death, Stoney’s usually enthusiastic voice was much quieter now. It also didn’t help to know that he had risked his life for nothing. We were still hopelessly lost in the skies, with no clue as to precisely where we were.
“I’m so sorry,” Rob apologized. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine and the next, I slipped on something and my ankle twisted…”
“Still, you didn’t have to let go of the rope!” I snapped.
“I know, I…”
“You could have killed Stoney! What were you thinking?”
“I guess I wasn’t…I just…”
“You were just being clumsy, Rob,” I said, feeling the urge to point out his fault for some reason.
Rob gritted his teeth. He already felt responsible for the ordeal; my comment had pushed him over the edge. He hobbled away below deck, sickened by his mistake and unaware that it was actually the pit Boojum had thrown that toppled him.
“Way to go, Hunter,” Trista said. “Could you be any more cruel?”
“I wasn’t cruel. I just stated the obvious,” I pointed out. “Rob has to learn to be more reliable if we’re going to trust each other out here. It’s not going to get any easier. The Shadow sure aren’t going to cut him any slack if he makes a mistake.”
Trista shook her head.
“So? What good is it to claim you’re different from the Shadow if you’re going to act just like them?” Trista pointed out.
There was truth in her words, but I didn’t want to hear it. She obviously had no idea what was at stake. The fate of the Resistance depended on us making it safely to Torpor, and clumsy Rob had nearly doomed us to wander the skies alone.
“Fine, I’ll talk with him about it when he cools off,” I offered. We set to work coiling the ropes and putting away the harness.
“Well that does it then,” Stoney said with a tone of defeat. “We’re lost.”
Hearing the word lost come from Stoney was disturbing and final. Suddenly, the air seemed to lose its sweetness.
“We can’t be lost. The Author’s supposed to be with us…guiding us!”
“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that we are. We could be anywhere in the Void,” he said, pointing out into the empty skies around us. “It may be too late already.”
“What do you mean, ‘too late’?” Trista asked nervously.
“Well, I didn’t have time to pack a full supply of food or fuel to power the ship’s propeller. I figured we’d restock on one of the other shards before continuing on to Torpor. That’s not likely to happen now, so we’re liable to starve to death before we make landfall anywhere.”
“There has to be another way! Can’t you fix your compass, or navigate by the stars or something?” I asked.
Stoney sounded more than a little annoyed at my suggestion.
“Look, if I thought I could fix the compass I wouldn’t have hung myself off the back of the ship, now would I? It’s not like I’m new to sailing the skies, you know. It ain’t exactly that easy. Besides, even with a clear view of the stars, I’d only be guessing anyway. On the shards you have a horizon line to work from—out here there ain’t nothin’ but empty space. The Void is a dizzying place to be lost.”
“So, what now?”
“We hope and pray that the Author knows what he’s doing. Otherwise, we’re goners, I’m afraid. I only have enough fuel left to keep us moving for a week at most. After that we’ll be at the mercy of the winds.”
That night I lay awake in the crow’s nest keeping watch. Rob had managed to stay out of sight the remainder of the evening, probably sulking in his room. I thought it was best to leave him alone, since I was still frustrated with him and his never-ending clumsiness. This last goof-up could have ended with serious consequences, dooming us to wander the Void aimlessly without a captain.
As a result of Rob’s absence, no dinner was served but no one was hungry anyway. Considering the severity of
our situation, it seemed unwise to eat until we really needed to.
Alone in the darkness, I found myself thinking about our desperate situation. My thoughts shifted from hopelessness to bitterness.
“What’s the point?” I wondered aloud. “Why would you bring us all the way out here to die?”
Silence.
I sighed, desperate for an answer. Things were never as easy as I wanted them to be. The Author’s ways were mysterious and often confusing. Still, I waited, holding Hope’s medallion out from my chest, staring at the simplicity of its design.
I missed her—Hope was always so upbeat and encouraging. She believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. I smiled as I recalled how she first gave me the medallion—the night I first flew out over the Void. I promised to return it to her one day.
Who could have known back then that three months later (or years, depending on your count) I would be carrying Hope’s medallion across the Void once more? Only this time I was on a ship, not a bird, and we were horribly lost.
You won’t be alone out there, you know! Hope’s voice seemed to say. It was only a memory yet it seemed so real…and nearby. I looked around, wishing desperately to see my friend once more, but she wasn’t there.
What was I thinking? Of course Hope wasn’t here, she was dead…and it was all my fault. I was the one who had killed her with my sword. If only I had been more careful that night in Venator’s palace. If only I had looked for the face of my enemy before attacking. Then, maybe she would be here with me even now. Instead, I had killed her. Even Rob hadn’t made that big of a blunder…yet. Now Hope was gone, and nothing could ever change that.
A slow tear dripped down my face, a tear that gave way to more. The tears I had held back for so long finally flowed freely. I sobbed alone in the darkness.
“I’m sorry, Hope,” I said, gasping for breath as I cried. “I miss you so much.”
Never alone, Hope’s voice reminded me.
I knew it was true, but it was hard to believe at times like this. I wept long and hard and finally fell into a deep, fitful sleep, haunted by ominous dreams.
* * * * * * *
Darkness, complete and terrifying.
All was silent, save for the intermittent, staccato dripping of water, echoing mysteriously through the cavernous court of night.
Then light, pure and unrestrained. A spark of fire boldly invaded the domain of darkness, springing to life against overwhelming odds. With the patience of a setting sun, the Flame descended till it came to rest above the face of a sleeping girl. The soft, flickering glow brought the only life to her otherwise statuesque face. Framed by wavy brown hair, her skin was pale, her lips a cold shade of pink.
The light expanded to reveal her full form, a white-robed body floating peacefully above a stone table, a bier, which sat alone on a platform at the top of a rock staircase.
“Release me.”
A hushed voice pulsed out from the heart of the Flame. It came from the Flame, but the voice was Hope’s. Then, as if it suddenly turned to liquid, the fire poured itself over the lifeless body. The ashen skin, which absorbed the Flames, warmed and now shone brightly from the radiant light within. An awakening power was at work as the gentle rise and fall of her chest welcomed life once more.
Without warning, another face emerged from the light’s unreached shadows, drawn by the Flame. The man’s features were dark except for a pair of silver eyes. His crouching frame was wrapped in the white garb of a Xin warrior—Xaul had arrived.
Swiftly and silently he stole up the steps, even though no one was around to see him. Sliding up to the bier, he drew himself up to full height, creating a towering silhouette against the girl’s luminous glow.
Drawing a black Veritas Sword from his belt, the Xin lifted it high. The blade of negative light flashed angrily out of the hilt. Hope’s eyelids fluttered with life, opening wide, but the hardened assassin would not fail in his mission. Turning his sword downward, he plunged it mercilessly into her heart.
With a crack of lightning and a splitting of stone, the room fell into complete darkness once more. Hope’s body had disappeared; with it, her light had all but vanished. Only a tiny sliver of a dying flame flickered from between the buckled halves of the stone bier.
His sword replaced, Xaul knelt down to snatch up the Flame. He brought the Flame close to his face, illuminating his silvery eyes and greedy grin before snapping his fist shut around it.
Echoes of an evil laugh peeled across the darkness as two eyes of fire flashed to life where once the silver pair had been.
“Noooooo!”
* * * * * * *
I woke in a full sweat to the sound of my own scream. The night was even darker than before. I climbed down from the crow’s nest and stood alone at the ship’s helm, staring aimlessly into the sky.
Chapter 15
Snarks and Sparks
Being adrift in the Void was not how we imagined spending our time in Solandria. With each passing day, the mood on the ship became bleaker and bleaker. The food rations were immediately cut to minuscule portions that were hardly enough to keep a rodent alive.
At last, on the fifth day of our journey, Rob stumbled excitedly out of the deckhouse, clutching a book in his hands.
“I’ve got it!” Rob said triumphantly.
“Got what?” Trista asked.
“The reason we’re lost. It’s the snark’s fault!”
“Snark?” I questioned.
“Yeah, I’ve been studying the Author’s Writ to pass the time lately and I found this passage.”
Rob shoved the book under my nose. It was open to a page with the picture of a small furry creature with giant orbed eyes and a long furry tail.
“Hey, that looks like Boojum,” Trista said.
“Yeah, but wait till you read what it says,” said Rob, clearly proud of what he had found. I took the book and began to read aloud.
Snarks are small furry creatures with extremely healthy appetites. Their skin is highly sensitive to direct light, which can singe their bodies if exposed even temporarily. Fortunately, a snark’s blood carries the extraordinary ability to heal its wounds at an amazing rate. This trait has caused some to hunt snarks and harvest their blood for use in potions and medicines that speed the natural healing process and prolong life.
Snarks can be kept as pets, but only by those whom the snark chooses. These highly adorable creatures have a way of charming most anyone they choose into keeping them. Just remember, if you own a snark, it is only because it chose you as its master. Their sense of curiosity often leads them into trouble. They are fiercely loyal and determined creatures, though not always trustworthy.
A rare breed of snark, sometimes referred to as deviants, possesses an aura of negative energy that can distract or deter its owners. Deviants are physically indiscernible from other snarks—only time will tell if a snark is a deviant.
Snarks are neither good nor bad in and of themselves, so you are advised to carefully consider if a snark is beneficial to your lifestyle before making a decision to keep it. Getting rid of a snark once you have one can be difficult.
“See what I mean?” Rob said proudly.
“Not really,” Trista replied. “What does that have to do with us being lost?”
“Watch this,” he declared, motioning for us to follow him into the deckhouse where Boojum slept soundly in the corner. Then, quietly picking up the compass from the table, he held it close beside Boojum. As the compass neared the creature, it began to swing wildly in different directions.
“Well, I’ll be,” Stoney said. “It wasn’t broken after all.”
Boojum woke up slowly, surprised to see so many of us standing around him. He rubbed his eyes and walked to where I stood. All the way, the compass followed his every move.
Rob was excited. “See, it’s B
oojum that got us here. His aura has been affecting our compass ever since we got on board. He’s the reason we’re lost out here—the reason we’re starving to death in the middle of nowhere.”
Even with the facts plainly before me, I felt a sudden urge to defend my furry friend.
“Quit blaming everything on Boojum. He’s done plenty of good things for us too!”
“Like what?” Rob challenged.
“Like retrieving the sword when we needed it in the Sky Cars, or…uh…saving me from Xaul. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Sure, just don’t forget he also was the reason you had to lie to your mom about the mess, the reason you were in trouble with Xaul in the first place…and…oh yeah…the reason we’re probably all going to die out here,” Rob said.
“Hey now,” Stoney said, stepping in to break up the argument. “We don’t know that for sure…least not until we’re dead.”
His efforts to sidetrack the argument didn’t work—Rob cut right back into it.
“Face it, Hunter. He’s a deviant and you know it! You should get rid of him.”
“How do you expect me to do that? Throw him overboard?”
“Now that’s enough,” Stoney interrupted, commanding authority. “This is my ship, and so long as I’m captain there won’t be no talk of throwing nobody out nowhere, understand?”
I nodded weakly. Rob just glared back, muttering something under his breath about “pesky rodents” not qualifying for that rule.
“Look,” Stoney continued, “even if the compass was working now, it’d do me no good until we knew where we was. And the only way that’s going to happen is by a miracle. What we need is a sign—a stroke of mercy from the Author himself.”
As he spoke, a soft melody hummed through the air…very low and light. And in my head I thought I heard a voice—a voice not much louder than a whisper.
Hunter. Hunter.
“Yes, I’m here,” I answered.
Stoney’s good eye shifted from side to side nervously. “I’m sorry, you talking to me?” he said.
