by Apryl Baker
“Crystal,” he said. “My crew and I will cause no problems here. We will work the same as everyone else until we reach a port where we can depart. If that is a few days, a few weeks or a few months, then so be it. We’ll do our part.”
“Then we’ll get along just fine. I’ll have Lukas assign you and yours bunks. There will be no sleep tonight, though. Mayhap not even tomorrow. We are working to be airborne by the morning light.”
“Understood.” Stephen stood up. “Thank you for speaking with me…Captain.” He almost bit out the word and Valeria couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. His eyes became measured and calculating. “We have met before.”
Val stared up into his clear, blue eyes and swallowed. That gaze had always managed to make her forget herself. She looked away before her own eyes gave away too much. Having him here was going to be difficult. He was the only man she’d ever loved and the only man she’d die to protect. Stephen couldn’t know that.
“One more thing,” she said. “While you are under my command, you will not cause the dragon on board this ship any harm, onboard or off.”
His fists clenched and Val realized she was right. He had planned to get his revenge. She’d given him a direct order to not harm the girl. “You will also assist Lukas in protecting her. If he cannot, then you will take over as her protector. I am making her your responsibility when Lukas cannot see to her. Understood?”
“Perfectly,” he growled.
“Then you may go.”
He turned around and marched to the door, yanked it open, and stormed out. Val chuckled. She’d thwarted his plans and secured his promise of obedience when it came to the girl. None of that worried her though.
What worried her was his constant questioning of whether he knew her. If she spent any amount of time with him, he’d figure it out. On board a small ship, the chances of avoiding him were slim to none.
Just what was she going to do?
***
Throughout the long night Stephen couldn’t get Emerald out of his head. Whether he was mending sails, repairing portions of the deck or tying down supplies, his mind wandered back to his conversation with the ship’s captain. If her mask was only an inch shorter, he felt certain he could have recognized her face.
Her voice haunted his thoughts like a dream barely forgotten. Frustration was slowly building as her true identity tickled the very corners of his mind. Just as often as the memory of her teased his conscious, his promise to guard the dragon heaped fiery coals upon his chest. What kind of sick joke was life playing on him? Not only did he have to suffer being around the cause of his men and best friend’s death, he now was bound to guard Ryder with his life.
Stephen mulled these thoughts over and over again until the sky shifted its ebony features to a dull pink that promised an appearance by the sun. His trance-like state broken, Stephen rubbed at tired red eyes. “It seems as though working through the night has seen the boat at least flight worthy,” the young, female voice said behind him. The voice grated Stephen’s ears like a thousand nails being dragged over a stone floor.
Stephen chose to ignore Ryder. Fatigue was banging at the door of his fatigued mind, his hands throbbed and despite his weary state, the thought of staying awake a bit longer for food was a real possibility. Instead of answering, Stephen let his eyes travel across the deck. Despite his dislike for Ryder, she was right. New rigging connected to tall, sturdy sails. They’d soaked the repaired sails in some foul-smelling concoction Stephen didn’t recognize and none of the pirates would tell him what it was. Other than the mismatched colors that easily showed which sections of the ship were old and which new, the vessel was airworthy and almost as good as new.
“I suspect we’ll be taking off soon,” Ryder continued. She moved to stand beside Stephen. “Those of my status are not prone to apology, however, if I have wronged you, I am regretful of that action.”
As shouts echoed through tired lungs to cast off, Stephen turned to Ryder. Too exhausted for anger, Stephen shook his head and ran a rough hand over his face as though the act could wipe off the need for sleep. “Why are you here? What do you want?”
It was petty, Stephen knew, still the flash of anger followed by her attempt to calm her nerves was satisfying. “I am to be under your care unless instructed otherwise by Lukas. He is seeing to the departure of the ship so I am here.”
“Lucky me.”
“Is that sarcasm? If not then, yes, I would agree with you.”
Stephen stared at the dragon-in-human-form not knowing what to say when the ship shifted under their feet. The feeling was subtle at first, and then with each passing second, grew in intensity. Lukas’s voice boomed over the deck as he shouted orders to weary hands. “Do you need me to take out my whip?” Lukas didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, an army of insults sprayed from his mouth, “On your feet, you tub-gutted, flea-infested sons and daughters of the sky. I’ll cut your throats myself if we’re not airborne within the next beat of my heart. Move your sorry bodies and lend your hands to the will of the ship!”
Stephen welcomed the steady sway of the boards underneath as the vessel began to pick up speed and departed from the island’s makeshift dock. Ryder, however, was not accustomed to the motion. She stumbled, but saved herself from a fall as the ship began to speed over the clear ocean water and lift into the sky.
Steam shot from the boilers in the belly of the ship and whistles rose above the din of the crew. The Emerald Queen raced toward the rising sun and for a moment everything plaguing Stephen’s mind ceased to exist. Wind rushing through his hair, the final mist from the ocean wet him as they lifted from the water. The powerful feeling evoked a grin despite his weary and grief-stricken soul.
As soon as the moment appeared, it was gone. Ryder once again moved to stand next to him on the railing of the ship as The Emerald Queen rose in the air. Not eager to exchange more words with the dragon, Stephen gathered himself and crossed the deck toward the helm. He looked to Lukas who manned the wheel. “Reporting for duty. Where do you need me?”
Lukas glanced at Stephen with a grin then looked to Ryder, “I think you have enough on your plate guarding our guest. That is your responsibility.”
Stephen bit his lip so hard it bled. The metallic taste of blood reached his taste buds as he gave a stiff nod. Arguing, he knew, would be pointless. Instead of exchanging further words with the first mate, Stephen decided to give into his need for food and then sleep. Right before Stephen turned to go, a thought crossed his mind. Perhaps Lukas would be freer with information than the Captain. It was a long shot but worth a try. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where we are going or why?”
Lukas looked down at Stephen. “Nice try, but you’ll have to ask the Captain about that one. When she’s ready to tell you, she will.”
The Captain. For the hundredth time, Stephen racked his brain for the connection between himself and the familiar female commander of the ship. A sound from his stomach that sent a vibration through his body told Stephen finding out their destination would have to wait.
Ryder still in tow, Stephen ignored her and headed below deck to find food. A rough kitchen had been created and was manned by a cook who was too skinny to mean the food was any good. Stephen was given a dirty, silver plate with a hard roll and a stew of unknown meat and a tankard of water.
Ryder passed on the offer for food yet followed Stephen to a long bench near the rear of the kitchen. The only other person occupying their table was an old, dark-skinned man sitting on the opposite end. “You know, you could just go back to your room or say you left me and I couldn’t keep up,” Stephen said under his breath as he attacked the food on his plate.
Ryder looked at his eating habits with disgust. Throwing all manners out the window, Stephen filled the aching in his stomach with food he wouldn’t even have given his dog back home. “I gave my word to the Captain,” Ryder said, blinking her violet eyes. “Trust me, I wish nothing more than to be on my own and rid of
any kind of escort. However, as it stands, I am only permitted to stay on board this boat if I follow the Captain’s rules. If following you around like a hatchling is the only way for me to experience the airboat, then I will be satisfied with that for now.”
“Ship,” Stephen corrected automatically. “It’s a ship, not a boat.”
“Ship, boat, it’s all the same.” Ryder shrugged her indifference and continued to stare at him.
Stephen shoveled another mouthful of the brown mash that tasted like a mix between beef and sawdust into his mouth. He had no desire to look at Ryder who sat across from him while he ate. Instead, he looked to his right and met the mysterious glance of the man sitting at their bench. Stephen remembered seeing the man board The Emerald Queen after the funeral ceremony.
The aged stranger was dressed in clothes foreign to Stephen; definitely not suited for air travel. The ancient man nodded with a toothy smile and brought a bottle to his mouth. After a long swig, he smacked his lips with another smile.
Stephen managed a weary nod in his direction before turning back to his plate and finishing his food. Far from full, Stephen weighed his options. Achieving a full stomach meant shoveling more of the mystery meat down his throat. He decided to pass as he handed back his plate to the scrawny chef behind the counter.
Ryder fell in quickstep beside Stephen as they descended into the belly of the ship. “May I ask to where we are traveling now?”
“Nope.”
“Then I must insist.”
“I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.”
Ryder ran to stand in front of Stephen with her hands on her hips. Her pale complexion reddened with anger. “I have been more than polite as we both endure this hardship. However, if you retire then I must also go to my chamber where I have spent the majority of the day.”
Stephen took a long breath that he let escape much louder than needed, “Listen, I don’t like this anymore than you. But I’m not a dragon, I need sleep.”
“What? Are you trying to say that dragons don’t sleep either?” Ryder raised an eyebrow, “Is that what you are implying, sir?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Stephen said, pushing past her. He knew there was no way he could actually push past a dragon; Ryder had let him go by. For some reason, that notion infuriated him more than if she’d actually stood her ground.
“I’ll be right outside your door when you awake,” Ryder growled at Stephen’s back, “expecting a full tour of the ship and a long visit on the deck.”
Chapter 12
Tobias opened bleary eyes and saw he was on a bed in a small cabin. His head pounded as if he’d been on a drunken spree for weeks and was only just now sobering up. What in Hades’ name had that old man given him?
He hurt everywhere and knew without having to be told, he wasn’t out of the woods yet. His skin felt hot; he could literally feel the heat emanating from it. His fever had to be raging. Cotton balls filled his mouth when he tried to call out. Trying to sit up ripped a groan from his dry throat and he collapsed back on the bed, coughing and wheezing.
Death must have decided to torture me, Tobias thought darkly. It wasn’t the pain that bothered him as much as the thought of what that girl would do when she found out his secrets, about the events that he’d put into motion a lifetime ago. Events that were sure to lead to his death at her hands.
The thought of just killing her had crossed his mind a few times, though he’d been filled with a deep shame every time his mind wandered there. She had gone out of her way to keep him alive. Granted, she’d wanted something from him to begin with, but she had the maps now. She didn’t need him as much, yet she still had kept him alive and sought medical attention for him. That counted for something. His conscience wouldn’t let him hurt her. He wasn’t the same man he’d been in Atlantis. Or at least he liked to think he wasn’t.
The cabin door burst open and slammed against the wall, startling him. He squinted and saw the old, tribal medicine man standing in the doorway. His white hair stood up on end around his head as though he hadn’t combed it in days giving him a slightly insane look. Tobias had doubts on the man’s sanity in the first place, and his appearance now wasn’t helping dissuade that misgiving.
The old man took a swig from his ever-present bottle of foul liquid and meandered over to Tobias. He laid a hand on Tobias’s forehead and frowned. He then proceeded to poke at the wounds, causing a low moan to tear free from Tobias. Did he not understand how much pain prodding the wound brought?
“No good,” the old man muttered and tipped back the bottle for another swig. “You not heal.”
“I’m dying,” Tobias groaned. “Just leave me be, man, and let me do it in peace!”
The medicine man snorted. “You quiet. Me fix.” He grabbed Tobias’s chin and forced his mouth open. The foul liquid filled his mouth and he was forced to swallow or choke to death. Four times the old man did this before nodding. He went over to the table and dug through a bag. A couple more grunts and he came back over to Tobias with a wicked-looking knife. He washed the blade in the same drink he’d just used on Tobias.
Without warning, the old man sliced through the healing wound and Tobias let out a scream. It wasn’t loud, but it was a scream nonetheless. White-hot fire consumed him and the old man just nodded and pushed at the wound.
“Be still,” he barked. “Me clean or you die.”
The familiar numbing sensation began to creep through Tobias’s bones. At least the pain was fading, but so was he. His eyes drifted shut just as the door closed.
The soft steps he recognized. The girl. She’d crept around at night on the merchant ship when she thought he’d been asleep. He never slept though, not with a stranger in his room. He’d offered to share it to keep her safe, even though he hadn’t trusted her. He’d been right to not trust her either, now that he knew who she was.
“Is he any better?” her soft voice was like music. It wasn’t the same voice she used around her crew. This voice was that of a young girl worried for her only family. He guessed in a way maybe he was. She had no one else from Atlantis except for him. The day she’d been born, he’d felt her come into the world. Blood calls to blood, especially for their kind. If he hadn’t been such a coward maybe…well, maybes were for fools and that he certainly wasn’t.
“No,” the medicine man shook his head. “Stubborn he is. Wants death me thinks.”
“He wants to die?” the girl asked, the perplexity clear in her voice.
“Me thinks.”
“We can’t make him want to live,” she said after a moment. “He has to do that himself or death will surely come for him.”
“Me make death work hard,” the old man told her.
“Yes, Yayou,” the girl said. “You have worked very hard to keep my friend out of death’s clutches. Thank you.”
“Me strong medicine man. Death afraid of Yayou.”
She chuckled and he heard her footsteps retreat, then the door opening and closing. Good, she’d left. He hated hearing the worry in her voice. It ate at him, especially knowing who she was. The realization of just exactly who she was had come to him last night when he’d felt her during the burial ceremony. The truth had struck him like an arrow through the heart. It was hard knowing that his own flesh and blood was going to kill him. He’d rather death take him now.
Instead, death decided to torture him just a little bit more and drag him back in time, back to where he first found out what the tattoo on his back meant, back when he was just a lad starting out in life.
His memories swallowed him up as the darkness of sleep crept in.
***
A glance into the past Tobias had been so eager to forget was far worse than any nightmare. Helpless to do anything, Tobias lay motionless as the events that banished him from Atlantis crept back into his mind.
Like he was having an out of body experience, Tobias watched himself enter the king’s chamber located just behind the throne room. Although
the memory that was being called forth was more than a hundred years old, Tobias remembered every detail down to the color of the cotton tunic and pants he wore as an Atlantean. The bright, colorful clothes spoke of the type of society Atlantis had become. They were full of creativity with warm, welcoming smiles from everyone. The people here had focused on kindness and love for all, instead of the fear and hatred so many in the world of DeCadia knew. It was one of the reasons Tobias had chosen to stay rather than going back to the world where he’d been raised.
Tobias tried to scream a warning to his past self, but no words would escape his mouth. The past version of himself walked into the vast hall. The marble floors spread out in every direction and the vaulted ceilings made him feel a fraction of his size. In a moment, Tobias was no longer watching himself cross the large room; he began to relive the events and see them through his own eyes. Still powerless to change the outcome, Tobias reconciled himself to watching the horrific event he had relived every night since.
Tobias first learned of Atlantis when he was a boy of ten. His grandmother had told him about the great people who founded the country of DeCadia. She told him that she was from Atlantis, yet had chosen to stay with the man she’d fallen in love with in DeCadia. He’d always smiled while listening to her speak of his grandfather. The way she cherished his name reminded Tobias that love existed, even in the cruel place the world had become. At ten, Tobias recognized cruelty. He and his grandmother suffered it every day as they slaved away in the DeCadia palace kitchens trying to earn enough to keep food in their bellies and their small one-room home to live in. Miss one rent payment, and they would be out.
His grandmother passed into the next world when Tobias was fourteen. He’d lost his job in the kitchens and then their home in less than a fortnight. The only choice available to him was the sea; so he’d signed on to work a merchant ship. He’d finally found a place to thrive. Sailing came naturally to Tobias. He felt at home on the seas and soon moved up in the ranks on board the ship. Before the age of twenty, he’d managed to get his own ship from the merchant company he’d worked for.
