by E. C. Jarvis
“Aye, sir.”
“Thank you,” Larissa whispered.
“I’m not doing it for your sake, Miss Markus. I’m banking on the arrogance of pirates to think they have us on the run. You’re going back to the brig until all this is over.”
He turned, dragging her with him, then stood for a moment, scanning the men on deck. Everyone appeared busy with some task, rushing to and fro. Vries grumbled under his breath.
“You don’t trust the task of returning me to the brig to anyone else, do you?”
“I don’t trust you, no.”
“And you don’t want to leave the deck yourself?” she asked, glancing in the distance. The nearest pirate airship closed fast; they would be in range within minutes. Her free hand dipped into her pocket and fingers brushed against the invisibility stone, a slight spark of heat emerging from it the moment she made contact. There would be no point activating it while the Admiral still had her in his grasp, but she was running out of time and fast running out of options.
Vries growled and shoved her backwards until she bumped against something solid—a mast pole. He grabbed a length of rope and whipped her hands painfully behind the pole, binding them together.
“You’re staying right where I can see you. Prepare to fire!” he yelled as he turned back to his men, the pirate ship drawing close, the faces of the men on board coming into view.
Larissa stared at each of them, focusing on the details of their features. One man had a wide, wild smile, showing a mouth devoid of teeth; another had a scar split down the length of his face. Their captain came into view, laughing as he whirled the wheel around, angling them on a collision course.
She didn’t hear the order to fire, but the first blast of cannons stopped her heart, the noise rattling around her head. The shot struck true, piercing wood in the hull of the enemy ship and leaving a perfectly shaped hole in its wake. Larissa braced her legs, preparing for the impact as the pirate ship turned, heading directly to their side.
“Up!” Vries bellowed at the top of his voice, lacking in any form of panic. Seconds later, the entire airship rose at an incredible speed, as though gravity itself had forgotten what it was doing for a moment. Larissa slid down the mast pole, her knees slipping apart as she crashed into the deck and crashed onto her backside.
“Fire!”
Cannons let fly, blasting hard and fast, rocking the ship with their ferocity. Larissa’s teeth ground together, and she strained to see what had happened, but they had risen so far so quickly that the pirate airship was nowhere to be seen. Once they emerged on the other side of the ship, she stood and managed to see.
The canopy of the pirate airship was ripped to shreds. They had sailed past beneath the Eagle and now plummeted to the ground at an awkward angle, the descent unstoppable. She couldn’t see the men on deck, as they were still too high above and the canopy blocked her view, but she could imagine them panicking and racing to and fro, trying in vain to prevent the inevitable. A gust of wind licked the curls of her hair, matting them across her face, masking the final view of the ship smashing into the ground below, but the sickening crash reaching her ears was vision enough. When finally her hair cleared her eyes, she strained to look over the rail, propping up on tiptoes to try to see. She hoped maybe a few people might be walking away from the impact, but the Eagle turned briskly, the ship far more manoeuvrable than she would have guessed from its size.
More cannon fire split the air, though not from their ship nor from any pirate ships firing at them. As they turned, the last of the evening sky giving way to black night pricked with starlight, she saw a line of ships on their tail. These battled another ship, familiar and distinctive from the pack by the lack of canopy.
While Larissa wouldn’t claim to harbour any deep affection towards the ship which had once been her father’s and which had sailed them safely home from the troublesome shores of Eptora, her heart did ache at the thought of seeing Cid’s work destroyed in such utter pointlessness. She watched on, wide-eyed, heart thumping in her ears as holes appeared in the sides of the structure and bodies flew through the air on deck as rifle shot ripped through the minimal military crewmembers. She glanced at Vries, who watched the scene like a hawk, his eyes flashing with a restrained anger. For all the Eagle’s speed, they couldn’t turn around fast enough to save the doomed ship before a cannonball shot through one of the upturned rotors, tearing it to pieces and sending the entire vessel downward in a spiral.
Though she knew it was coming, her body reacted with a shocked jolt as the canopy-less ship hit the ground. More explosions followed, cannons aboard the Eagle shooting at the pirate airships which had downed their comrades. The darkness of early evening light was pierced by swinging lanterns aboard the enemy vessels and yellow, explosive blasts from their own gun ports as they returned fire. Shouts and calls splintered the air between the cacophony of explosions. Larissa tugged at the rope binding her wrists to no avail, and though she still held the invisibility stone in her hand, it was of little use to her now.
A crunching noise echoed up from below, and she stared down at the deck as if she could wilfully see through the layers of wood to the brig at the bottom. She let out a mournful gasp as she thought of her friends, trapped down there, caged and awaiting death, incapable of escape even if they could see it coming.
Three more airships turned in their direction, the crafts undeterred by their downed friends, and finally, the pirates seemed to be coordinating themselves.
“Weave,” Vries cried, his voice carrying above all other sounds. Men raced across the deck, their polished boots thumping with haste but not panic, the years of harsh and embattled training driven into the men showing with ruthless efficiency. No one questioned, no one faltered, and Larissa knew then she was seeing a natural leader, utterly confident in his orders. She couldn’t help but admire Vries and wish that she had only once led her own group with such a measure of surety. The ship dipped in the sky, dropping down so fast Larissa wondered if they’d been hit. Then they shot upwards, rising up to the clouds, the men bracing their legs on the deck against the angle. They rose up and up until they rounded out high above the pursuing ships ahead.
“Down,” Vries yelled, though it seemed he needn’t have done so as they had already turned and begun to tip downwards. Larissa gripped onto the mast pole and dug her heels into the deck as the contents of her stomach threatened to return with full force. Her hair whipped in the wind as they plummeted downwards, and a volley of cannon fire erupted from the gun decks below, blasting through canopy and masts and decks of the attacking ships.
She held her breath as the decks drew level and the Marines pelted the pirates with gunshot. Though the pirates returned fire, their aims were desperately poor in comparison to the trained men they faced. A bullet whizzed past her head and clipped the mast, showering her face with splintered wood, and she sunk down to her knees again.
“Don’t argue,” a voice rumbled in her ear. She turned her neck, straining to see who had spoken and finding no one nearby. A Marine stood several feet away beside the guardrail, but he faced outwards, aiming his rifle. He pulled the trigger, then ducked down out of sight, his attention fully locked onto reloading his weapon. She felt something brush against her fingers, and the ropes binding her wrists seemed to loosen as they were moved.
“Holt,” she whispered, finally piecing together the puzzle. She’d handed the last piece of Anthonium and syringe to Sandy before leaving but hadn’t had time to give any instruction. It had been meant as a last resort, a final thing to do in case Holt almost died. She hoped they hadn’t wasted it just to help her escape.
“What am I not arguing with?” she said as she carefully watched the deck. Everyone was too focused on the battle to notice her talking to herself.
“My plan,” Holt’s voice said. He was not so close now, presumably kneeling behind the mast as he worked to release her bindings.
“I can’t argue with it if you won’t tell
me what it is.”
“Precisely why I’m not telling you. Larissa, please…”
The rope fell away, and her arms were free at last. She blinked once or twice, oblivious to the chaos around them as she tried to think when he’d ever pleaded with her before. Then she quickly realized the answer was never.
“Holt, don’t tell me you’re planning on escaping without the others? You know I won’t leave them behind. I can’t.”
No reply came. She turned in all directions, still sitting on the deck unable to stand on legs made of jelly. He couldn’t truly expect her to leave the ship with him, to run away and leave their friends to their fate? As much as she knew he disliked Kerrigan, couldn’t he see that they mattered to her? Didn’t he know she loved them all, especially Cid?
Her breath came in short spurts, lungs burning even though she hadn’t exerted herself at all. The vision of the ship, the men, the fighting—all became marred by a watery blur. Did she really need to choose between escaping with Holt, leaving the others to die—if not in battle then by hanging—and risking herself to save them but leave Holt behind? It was unbearable, unthinkable, and though she couldn’t see it, she knew her heart was physically snapping into two pieces from the pain striking at her chest.
Vries turned to face her briefly, as though checking she was still alive—and held in place—and then his attention shifted back to barking orders. A body flew through the air, blood erupting from the neck as the poor Marine experienced his last fleeting moments. Larissa launched forwards, her fingers wrapping around the stone in her hand, her eyes locking onto the stairwell leading below deck. She didn’t take more than two steps before she was wrenched backwards harshly, painfully.
The world tipped upside down. Her stomach dropped into her feet as the ship made another dive downwards, and she found herself flying through the air at an unnatural angle. She floated toward the edge of the ship, and her mind suddenly added in the missing piece of the bizarre puzzle as she felt the strong arm gripping her waist and holding her tightly.
Panic raced through her body from head to toe as she approached the inevitable but unwanted end, and she screamed an incoherent, blood-curdling shriek as Holt launched over the edge of the ship, carrying her with him.
Her legs kicked and bucked, fighting the invisible force holding her pinned in place. Holt grunted in response but continued working his way quickly down the rope he’d thrown over the side.
“Keep still or we’ll fall,” he said, his voice strained.
“Let me go, damn you. Holt, put me down. Leave if you want to, but I have to go back and help the others. I have to—”
Her words were stilted when they fell, air rushing past her body as they plunged downwards, the dark ground still too far away to land without breaking bones. Larissa screamed all the way down, the fall seeming to last longer in her mind than in reality until it stopped dead. Pain erupted through her torso, her face, her arms, and legs.
She tried to reach out, but her arm wouldn’t answer. Neither would her neck, and as she attempted to speak, her mind had other ideas, darkness surrounding the edges of her vision until she finally succumbed to the end.
CHAPTER NINE
Cid emerged from his cell and stood between Friar Narry and the young woman Sandy. The odd group of people eyed one another suspiciously as they waited for Kerrigan to return, listening to the cacophony of battle noises surrounding them on all sides.
“Do you think Larissa is safe?” Narry whispered as he leaned over his large stomach in an attempt to get closer to Cid’s ear, which was at least a foot higher than the priest’s mouth.
“She has a remarkable talent for getting herself out of awkward and dangerous situations,” Cid said. It wasn’t really an answer, and he chided himself for not resorting to his usual bluntness. In truth, he didn’t really know. As much as he’d witnessed her escape death several times, he wasn’t sure how long the strain of luck would hold.
“And do you?” Narry asked.
“Do I what?”
“Have a remarkable talent for getting yourself out of awkward and dangerous situations?”
“Good question. I’ve made it this far.”
“I only ask because I’m not sure if the lucky streak will extend to me. I am not capable of running across the ship, battling soldiers, and hurling myself into the abyss. I have neither the desire nor the constitution for such exertion, and I fear my prayers to the Gods to spare my skin have been too many of late.”
Cid looked down at Narry as another boom of cannon fire rocked the walls surrounding them. “I won’t leave you behind, Friar.”
“I wasn’t asking you to sacrifice your life for me. Just please do me a favour and get a message to the Dolonite Citadel at Meridina, or even the Citadel in the Capital. Tell them I was repentant in the end. They may still light a candle for me.” Narry fell to the floor as the entire ship lurched upwards unexpectedly.
Cid braced his body against one of the cell doors. “Bloody hell.”
Kerrigan reappeared in the doorway, his feet slipping down the steps as he gripped onto the walls for support. “They are distracted with the battle. We can get up to the deck and slip down a rope to the ground as the ship makes a low dip, but only one, maybe two at a time. It’s that or we stay here and wait until the battle is over and hope Vries wins.”
“Who are they fighting?” Lieutenant Saunders asked.
“Pirates. Too many of them. The chances of the Eagle coming out of this in one piece are slim.”
“Where is Larissa?” Cid asked.
“I couldn’t see her. She may have already left the ship.”
“Who are you trying to convince? She wouldn’t leave us behind. You know that.”
“I checked the Admiral’s cabin. She was not there and she is not on deck. We don’t have time to stand around debating it. Friar Narry, come with me. Saunders, bring your cousin up. The rest of you wait here until I return.”
Narry thumped Cid on the shoulder then squeezed past, heading up the steps. More explosions rocked them from side to side, and Cid felt his pulse thumping as he watched Narry then Sandy climb the stairs. He stood for a moment, bracing his legs and gripping the nearest cell bars for stability, staring at the empty space the others had occupied moments ago.
“Fuck it,” he muttered as he barged forwards.
“Woah, woah, hold on there, Mister Engineer.” Kerrigan’s remaining man, Sergeant Boswell, stepped out in front of him, blocking the exit. “The Colonel clearly said—”
“The Colonel can kiss my ass. I’m going to find Larissa.”
“Yeah, and I want off. He ain’t my Colonel,” the remaining pirate in their group, Zeb, said as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Cid. Cid grunted. He did not want to be associated with that man in any way.
“You will risk the entire escape if you go up there running about. If someone spots you—”
“Fuck you,” Zeb yelled, and he launched forwards, barrelling into Boswell. The two men toppled to one side, landing punches and legs flailing aimlessly as they battled both each other and the erratic movements of the ship. A fleeting thought crossed Cid’s mind to jump in and help, though he wasn’t sure whose side he was on. His legs had other ideas as they raced forwards, seemingly of their own accord, stepping over the pair of men and heading up the staircase.
He reached the lower gun deck; the air was thick with the smell of discharged gunpowder and sweat. Groups of bodies hunched over cannons, men yelled commands from their stations nearby, an endless stream of people pushed and pulled heavy machinery across the deck, fighting against the impossible dipping and rising of the airship. Cid crouched beside an empty gun rack and looked as far in each direction as he could, not really expecting to find Larissa there but certain he should take care to check just in case. The ship was unreasonably long, and he could only see so far before the view was blocked by too many men moving at once. The nearest gun crew yelled a call of readiness to their commander, who o
rdered them to fire. The explosion rattled through his head and left a high-pitched whining noise in its place. He took the momentary distraction to rush forwards and climb the next steep flight of stairs.
The mid-deck was the same level of measured chaos. He almost tripped over a body lying prone across the top of the stairwell. The poor Marine was missing half his face, bubbles of blood popping from the wound extending to his throat. Even if he hadn’t been trying to escape, there was little Cid could do for the man. The mid-deck had taken a battering from cannon fire, holes ripped in either side and opening out to the night sky. A glimpse of an opposing ship body came into view before tipping out of sight. Cid scuttled up the next flight of steps, silently cursing himself for not checking carefully enough to see if Larissa was around.
The steps opened out into a corridor, and while yet more men manned cannons on this level, there was a line of rooms up ahead that he hoped would lead to the Admiral’s cabin. Cid raced forwards, his feet tripping with every step. Everyone appeared too busy and focused on their fight to notice a wayward prisoner running through the ship. He reached the door at the farthest end; a brass plaque framed into the wood read Admiral Vries. He barged through the door, half expecting it to be locked, but as the door fell inwards, it became evident Larissa was not inside.
Still, the explosions rocked on and the ship swung from side to side, up and down, bringing the contents of his stomach up into his throat. A deck of cards were strewn across the floor, scooting from one end of the cabin to the other. Cid grunted out loud, wondering if perhaps Holt had already done the job of rescuing Larissa, yet again making him utterly redundant.
As he turned to leave, not entirely sure where to go next, an odd noise caught his attention. It sounded like a high-pitched tone, something whirring out of control. He looked between the door and the desk, having a distinct sensation of what was about to follow and sure there wasn’t enough time to escape from the room to get up on deck.
