by E. C. Jarvis
THE DESTINY
BOOK FOUR OF THE BLOOD AND DESTINY SERIES
BY E. C. JARVIS
Copyright © E.C. Jarvis 2016
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced
in any form, including photocopying, recording,
or other electronic or mechanical methods – except
in the case of brief quotations embodied
in articles or reviews – without written
permission by the author.
First edition
www.ecjarvis.com
For Dave and Bonnie.
Thanks also to those who helped with their invaluable opinions along the road:
Dan C. Boutwell
Ian Jordan
Kat Hutson
Laurie Wetzel
Stephanie Ayers
This is a work of adult Steampunk Fantasy. Possible triggers are present within the book including but not limited to sex, murder, torture, and violence.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
CHAPTER FOURTY
CHAPTER FOURTY ONE
EPILOGUE
AFTERWORD
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
Colonel Gabriel Kerrigan straightened his back to a stiff point and gripped the airship rail. He knew it was inane; the line of military ships headed in their direction would hold only a few people of higher rank than him, and those few would not care less if he displayed the proper protocol or not, at least not at this distance. Regardless, his body was so trained to respond that he couldn’t help it. He noticed his good friend and trusted ally Lieutenant Tobin Saunders standing by his side, doing the same. Sergeant Eddy Boswell appeared to be lounging against the rail of the pirate airship. Boswell’s lack of similar reaction wasn’t a complete surprise, but it irked him nonetheless.
The propellers of their ship hummed as they whirred at an incredible pace. The line of military airships dotted along the coast ahead of them all had huge balloon canopies stretching toward the sky, holding them in the air. Their own ragged airship was an oddity which would warrant military attention. A wayward pirate airship with no balloon and a collection of odd occupants would need a miracle to slip past unnoticed, and the only man capable of making them disappear was dead.
One Sky Force ship broke free from the pack to take the lead over the others. Kerrigan recognized it immediately. Despite being an army officer, not a Sky Force Marine, every soldier worth his weight should know the finest airship in the entire fleet by sight. The Republic of Daltonia Eagle.
“No pressure,” Larissa said. She stood beside him, holding Holt’s hand in a vice-like grip. Her eyes flashed with wild fear and something else, something Kerrigan sensed as her sharp mind working to figure out a puzzle. She seemed adept at doing so, more than he’d first assumed her capable.
“We’ve faced worse odds,” Holt whispered to her.
Kerrigan stifled a derisive snort. No doubt they had been through—and escaped—a great deal of turmoil, but to face down a large proportion of the Daltonian military with no weapons and no leverage? Those were not the sort of odds on which he’d dare place a wager.
“I do have an idea.” Larissa turned to face Kerrigan, her pale blue-grey eyes focusing on his.
“Let’s hear it, Miss Markus,” he said, still sounding more authoritative than he’d truly intended. It was as much ingrained in his psyche as the straight-back attention stance—not an easy trait to unlearn, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to unlearn it.
“We’re your prisoners,” she said as she straightened her own shoulders.
“Larissa,” Holt began. She silenced him with a simple wave of the hand, her gaze never wavering from Kerrigan’s. Then her eyes softened as she seemed to choose her words, still putting together the puzzle pieces.
Fortunately, as soon as she’d said it, he guessed her idea. It seemed a good plan, perhaps the only plan with potential to achieve everything they wanted to achieve without bloodshed. At least, without much bloodshed. But it would involve him taking a final step beyond his rank, a twist of his loyalty. As much as he disliked the President and the rash and downright unethical actions the man had taken to secure his position, some part of him balked at the notion of going rogue. It went against every fibre of his being. Did he really want to risk throwing away a twenty-year career on a dubious attempt to change the fate of the entire country, if not the world? It seemed an appallingly grandiose concept for a lowly Colonel, and far too much weight to rest on one man’s shoulders.
“Pretending we’re your captives is the only way to avoid needless deaths,” Larissa said. “We don’t have time to discuss it, so unless anyone has a better alternative, this is what we’re going to do.” She paused for a moment, looking around at each face on deck before turning back to address Kerrigan directly. “You can signal to the ships that you have captured prisoners on the President’s orders. Did the President order us to be executed immediately?”
“No, my orders were to bring you to him directly.”
“Thank the Gods for that. It will buy us some time to figure out the rest as we go along.”
“So we’re just going to let them lock us up?” Cid growled from behind the wheel. His face couldn’t have held an angrier scowl if he’d tried.
“We don’t have much of a choice, Cid, unless you can engineer us some cannons and gunpowder… Even then, I wouldn’t do it. I don’t want to go around killing people for doing their jobs and following orders. That’d make us just as bad as the people we want to stop.” She paused, looking out to sea at the plethora of vessels making their way towards them. It wouldn’t be much longer before they were in range. “Tell me I can trust you, please, Colonel. Promise me?”
He felt a tingling in his fingertips and at the back of his neck. Promise to betray the President and the oath he’d taken? Sure, not much to ask. He felt the eyes of his subordinates burning between his shoulder blades, reminding him it wasn’t just his life and future his choice would affect. One wrong step now would mean punishment for them all, and on his head be it. No pressure.
“I will do what I can,” he said, instantly regretting it. It was a cop-out, a weak reaction. Larissa’s shoulders drooped in response. He suppressed an apology; no need to appear even weaker. He could see the flash of fire running through Holt as his fists curled into balls. If he were to attack, so be it; Kerrigan felt ready for a fight
. Although he’d been waiting for Holt to attack him again ever since the first time they’d fought, it had never come, and he wasn’t sure why.
“Sir, they’re signalling,” Saunders said.
Kerrigan raised the spyglass and looked out to see that the lead ship, the RDS Eagle, had finally broken away from the pack. At the bow, the Captain stood staring back at him with his spyglass, and a subordinate made exaggerated arm signals. He watched carefully, accepting the instructions, and then returned a message of his own, aware of Holt’s intent gaze. The ex-Sky Force Captain would know precisely what Kerrigan projected.
“They have asked us to hold position while they come about and take the ship.”
“All right, we’ll do that,” Larissa said. “I suppose we had better let you tie us up. We don’t look much like prisoners right now.”
“Very well.”
He led the others to the back of the ship and asked Saunders and Boswell to bring rope. Holt whispered something to Larissa and disappeared below deck, reappearing a few minutes later.
Whilst he had no issue tying the men of Larissa’s crew up, especially Holt, it grated on him to bind the rope around Larissa’s wrists. Her hands were small and delicate, and her wrists were thin and wiry. He didn’t doubt he could happily tie up a woman if she were a true criminal, but ever since he’d met Larissa, she hadn’t fit into that mould. Now that he knew the truth—that she was a direct descendant of the Empirical line and hardly the diabolical, evil wench he’d first taken her to be—the thought of tying her up, even as a ruse, made him feel sick.
He wrapped the length of rope around twice, tucking it between her wrists in the middle, and pulled the rope into a slipknot, hiding it beneath her wrists and giving her just enough slack to escape if she wanted to.
“Tie me up too,” Sandy, Saunders’ cousin, said as she joined them, still dressed in her robe, having insisted on wearing it after it had dried out. She looked a mess. Kerrigan still felt angry at Saunders for dragging her along on a military mission and putting her life at risk, though now that he knew of her capabilities, he understood why. What he didn’t understand was why she would want to be included as a prisoner with people who were likely to end up hang for the crime of piracy, at the very least.
“Why, Sandy?” Saunders asked.
“Because I know you’ll get into trouble for taking me along. I can already see your superior officer disapproves of me. I’d hate to think what they’ll do when they find out you brought me along and technically failed in your mission.”
“Don’t worry about me. We will drop you off as soon as we get over land, and you can go straight back to Aditona.”
“No, I’m not going back there. It’s dull and pointless. This is far more entertaining and I’m sure I can help.” Sandy winked at Larissa.
Kerrigan found his nose wrinkling up. She wasn’t in the military, so he couldn’t presume to order her about. From the shocked expression on Larissa’s face, she must have been having the same thoughts.
“You realize we may die?” Larissa said.
“From the stories I’ve heard, you’ve escaped death quite expertly a number of times. Besides, I think I might have cracked your Cleric’s disappearing-stone trick you were telling me about.”
“Now, that would be helpful.”
“Sandy,” Saunders began in an exasperated tone.
“Don’t leave me, sweet cheeks,” Eddy called to her, feigning a dramatically sad face.
“That settles it. No arguing, I’m going.” She turned and held her wrists behind her back, glancing at Kerrigan over her shoulder expectantly.
He sighed and tied her up in the same manner as Larissa. He could only hope he wouldn’t come to regret it.
The Eagle came into view, drawing alongside them, its massive canopy casting a long shadow over the deck. The entire vessel dwarfed their small ship by at least four times their size. An impressive array of weapons greeted them, cannons sticking out of every port, rows of Marines with brand new rifles aimed directly at them, and shining short-swords hanging from their belts. The pristine ship consisted of highly polished wood and metal glinting in the afternoon sun, not a speck of dirt nor a rope out of place. It made him swell with pride at the sight. Despite being an army officer, not Sky Force, he couldn’t dispute the sense of being part of the ship, as much as the entire military, and it a part of him. Was he seriously contemplating breaking away from it all for the sake of a girl?
“Prepare to be boarded,” one of the men from the Eagle yelled, snapping Kerrigan’s thoughts apart. Several grappling hooks flew across the distance, slapping into the deck of the ship and catching on the side rail. As the two ships drew together, he noticed Larissa leaning into Holt, resting her head on his chest. Holt’s lips brushed against her forehead briefly before he noticed Kerrigan watching. The glare he received might have sent a chill down his spine if he didn’t have the upper hand in the situation.
The two ships bumped against one another and a handful of Marines jumped on board. Kerrigan ignored them, his eyes busy scanning for the senior officer. One man appeared through the line of men on the Eagle—the Admiral, his rank denoted by the shape of his hat and the insignia on his breast. Kerrigan didn’t recognize him, but he knew the man by name, as did most people in Daltonia. The man at the helm of the country’s finest ship was known by even the lowliest household—Admiral Carson Vries.
Admiral Vries stepped up on the rail of his ship, his black, knee-length boots polished so intensely they glistened with the black metal of the cannons. He strode across and jumped down onto the pirate ship, scanning the faces of every one of the occupants until his gaze settled upon Kerrigan.
“Care to explain?” Vries barked, his black moustache barely moving as he spoke.
“Admiral Vries, I am Colonel Gabriel Kerrigan of the President’s Elite Guard. This is Lieutenant Tobin Saunders and Sergeant Edward Boswell.” He gestured towards his two men in turn. “These are our prisoners. They have been captured on the direct orders of the President. We would be grateful if you could assist us in delivering them directly to him.” He gave a general wave of his hand towards the rag-tag group of prisoners standing together and looking utterly dejected. Although Kerrigan’s uniform had long since been lost and his current outfit had him looking more like a penniless merchant than a Colonel, he hoped his name would be well known enough to hold sway with the Admiral.
“Colonel Kerrigan?” Vries repeated.
“Yes.”
“Colonel Kerrigan is dead.”
A silence followed, long and uncomfortable, broken only by the sound of the slow-turning propellers which held them steady in the air.
“Well, I can assure you, whatever report has been filed stating I am dead is a mistake. As you can see, I am not.”
“The President gave the announcement himself. The capital held a day of mourning. The papers reported it weeks ago. Commander Roper, take these men and women and place them in the brig.”
“All of them, sir?”
“All of them.”
“Aye, sir.”
CHAPTER TWO
It was a very tidy prison. Larissa could appreciate that much about it. The spotlessly clean brig of the RDS Eagle even had miniscule portholes in the walls to let in some light. It would almost be comfortable if it weren’t for the fact her cell was really only big enough for one person, and for some reason, their captors had seen fit to stuff Sandy and Larissa in together. Each of the cells had thick iron bars leading to the next in two rows down either side, located at the base and rear of the ship. They could see through to the cell beside them, though not reach out to touch, for the gaps between the bars were barely big enough to squeeze fingers between.
The men all had cells of their own. They’d placed Cid in the farthest cell, which she only knew because she could hear him griping about it loudly. Kerrigan sat in the cell opposite, Saunders beside him. Holt had been placed in the cell next to Larissa. She peered between the bar
s and saw him looking back at her. He’d already turned pale, the boost from the poison in his veins wearing off rapidly.
“I suppose they think us less deadly than the men,” her cellmate Sandy said with a derisive snort.
“I guess so.”
She watched Sandy pull her hands free from the rope tied behind her back then grip her wrists, rubbing each in turn. With a slight wriggle, Larissa realized how easily she could escape the binding rope. It made her smile for a moment to know Kerrigan hadn’t sold her out completely—until she remembered where they were. Their plan had fallen apart at the first step.
“At least we’re all alive,” she said as she pulled her arms apart and discarded the rope.
“For all the bloody good it’ll do us,” Cid yelled to her. Private conversations were going to prove tricky in this environment.
“Why would the President declare you dead, Colonel?”
“I don’t know. I’m guessing I’m not in his favour any longer.”
“This is a problem. He won’t want word to get out that you aren’t actually dead, not when he’s made such a display of your death. He might just order Admiral Vries to kill us all and dispose of the bodies.”
“I doubt it. Vries may be a curmudgeonly bugger, but he’s the sort of man who will do everything by the book, even at card games from what I’ve heard. There’s no protocol in the military for allowing the unsubstantiated murder of civilians. The President only has a few people in his confidence who are willing to operate outside of those rules, and for good reason.”
“You being one of those people?”
“Not any longer.”
She sighed and allowed her head to thump on the bars, giving a satisfying clank of noise. She looked over at Sandy. She’d hardly spoken two words to her new female companion since they’d met, being too afraid and slightly in awe of her. Larissa had developed a fairly reasonable fear of people who wore robes and practiced illusions for a living. Sandy glared at the length of rope in one hand and wriggled as she rummaged about in her robe with the other hand.
