“Look, we all deal with grief in different ways. She gets angry, Braian sleeps, and I, well, I do this. You could even say that Phoebe goes to jail. This wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.” He placed a leather-bound book on the table next to him.
“You kidnap a lot of princes and have them go on rescue missions? I somehow don’t believe that.” He muttered as he walked away.
“Good night sweet prince.” Owen called. “Children of destiny, eh? What a crock.” As he blew out the dark blue smoke, his eyes caught the book in his glance again. “What a crock.”
Chapter Eight
My Blood
The crack of the metal bars reverberated in the small cell, “Time to get up sunshine!” the jailer said. His long face and nose pressed against the bars as he watched his prisoner.
Opening her heavy eyelids, Phoebe found herself lying on a damp mat. She rolled herself onto her stomach, groaning as she pulled her body off the floor.
“I hope you enjoyed your evening accommodations.” He let out a dry hacking laugh as he opened the cell door. “Seems someone thinks you are worth the coin to post your bail.” As she walked out of her cage, she stretched her muscles; categorizing the aches as she regarded the tall rat-faced guard. “I don’t want to see you end up back here.”
He placed his hand on her back, shoving her down the dimly lit hallway. Phoebe counted her steps between the torches. Ten steps. The guard walked closely behind her, occasionally hitting the back of her legs with the scabbard to his sword.
“Are you trying to make me go faster?” She asked after one hit stung the back of her calves.
“You can go at whatever pace you feel like. I am just giving you something to remember this place by.” His smile was audible.
“No knickknacks I can take with me?” She said.
“We save those for the lifers. Keep walking sunshine.” He said smacking the back of her calves again.
The hallway opened into a front room with a holding cell on the right wall and a desk where another guard was sitting with his hand held out as a small girl was finishing counting out the coins in her purse.
“Thank you.” The sitting guard said. “Did you sign all the paperwork, Miss?”
“Yes,” Adriana said. “I’d like to go home with my sister now.”
He looked over at Phoebe. “You are free to go now. Be careful out there you two. I don’t want to see either of you back here.”
Phoebe’s face brightened as she held out her hand to her younger sister. She took her first steps of freedom outside the jail. Taking in the surrounding air, her face softened and her eyes darted to the little girl beside her.
“I’m dead. Dad’s gonna kill me when we get home.” She whispered. “That’s rule number one isn’t it? Don’t get caught, and I got caught.”
Adriana shrugged, “I wouldn’t know.” the corners of her mouth lifted. “He thinks I’m in Keyla to get away from Owen and Braian.”
“You really are too mischievous for your own good.” She said.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled at Phoebe. “There is something I’d like your help with when we get back.” She said.
“Since I owe you, name your price.” She said.
“Can you beat up Owen for me? He’s been mean since you’ve been gone.”
* * *
Rough, coarse debris glued her lash line together. Slowly opening them, Phoebe took in the familiar scene. ‘Square, stone, box, cold, hard, damp mat. Shit.’ her voice was hoarse.
Lifting her head, she used her index finger to claw at the gritty dust around her eyes. Once the sand was gone, she could focus on her surroundings. The first thing that came into view was the bright green vertical bars around her. They glowed and a shallow humming sound.
“I don’t remember those being here last time.” She muttered. Two guards sat at a desk, laughing as the larger of the men regaled the other on his triumphant skills in finding her, the fugitive.
“We saw that ship flying over, and I reckoned it was that ship that little trollop ran away into.” The guard laughed.
“I am not a trollop, jerk.” Phoebe yelled. “Come on, they were just boots.”
The guard continued his story, ignoring her please. “I gave the word, and that ship was shot down. It was almost too easy. Myself and a small group hiked into the forest, found her, and brought her here.”
“Don’t forget to tell him about how I wounded half your men.” She said turning her back on the bars.
“Be careful, not to touch them, my dear.” It was then she realized that she was not the only occupant of the cell. An old man with white, stringy hair sat in the corner, his knees pulled up to his chest. His joints appeared swollen and the way he was sitting, the man was arthritic. “One touch. That’s all it would take to ruin your whole day. Wouldn’t want a pretty thing like you dead, now would we?”
Turning her back to the elderly man, she inspected the bars. “Looks like they upgraded since I was here last. A lot changes in six years.” She turned back around to see the man smiling at her. She stomped the dirt on the floor as she pushed herself to the nearest wall.
“It’s not so bad, once you get used to it.” The man said. “The humming is almost like a lullaby at night. They even turn down the glow so it’s easier to sleep.”
“How kind of them. Any other words of advice?” she asked.
“They like the sound of screaming.”
* * *
She felt the pressure on the bed before she heard his voice.
“Wake up.” Adriana’s eyelids jerked open. Meeting Braian’s violet eyes only a few inches away from her. She blinked as his oval face became clearer. When they were younger, he would run up the loft’s ladder to wake her each morning. Some mornings he would curl up in the bed with her and they would sleep for a few more hours, or they would watch the sunrise from the window.
Her hand flew from her side and grabbed his face, pinching his cheeks and pulling him closer to her as he tried to get away. This would not be one of those mornings.
“Ah!” He yelped. “That’s my face. You are hurting my face.” He tried to move away from her, but soon gave himself up to her tight grip.
“Will you please, never do that again?” She asked. He nodded his head. “Thank you.” Letting go of his cheeks she pushed him away from her.
He took a few steps back, trying to rub the pain from his face. “On the bright side, I won’t have to shave for a while.”
“You were the one who got too close.” Her eyes threw daggers in his direction as she pulled herself out of bed. Grabbing the closest pair of linen pants and shirt from the floor, she began to disrobe. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him catching a glimpse of her changing.
“I lost to Owen in an arm-wrestling this morning.” He said, folding his arms over his chest.
“What does that have to do with anything?” She asked. Pulling together the final hook on her brown bodice, she grabbed a long leather belt off the floor, looping it around her waist and letting the holster for her dagger rest on her hip.
“Loser had to wake you up.” He grumbled.
She snorted in response. They often made bets on who would wake her up, or who would tell her bad news. Braian lost more often than Owen did, and she had always wondered if he was losing on purpose.
The tangled mane that her hair had become was in need of a brush. Rooting through the mess that had been her vanity it returned no results for her hairbrush or comb. Giving up she ran her fingers through the knotted mess.
“Is there a reason you are still watching me?” Adriana asked. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”
“I’m not even going to answer that.” He growled. “Everyone else is awake. They are waiting in the dining room. So whenever you are ready, Princess.” He walked out of her room.
Looking at the broken mirror, she memorized the crack that had form
ed right down the middle. As she passed through the doorframe, she grabbed her dagger from a busted end table.
Drifting into the dining hall she spotted Owen with his arms crossed over his broad chest, looking dazed. “Stayed up all night smoking again? You should be ashamed.”
“Shut it.” He said rubbing his eyes. She sat down in a chair next to Corbin, who leaned over with his head in his hands. “Okay, we’re gonna head out within the hour. That will give us enough time to locate additional weapons and get the rest of our gear. We estimate it will take us a few hours to travel to Keyla.”
“Might take us longer depending on how many unwelcome creatures we meet up with.” Braian stated.
“Right.” Owen agreed. “We should expect to be traveling for most the day at most. Take extra care into how many weapons we carry. We need to dig up the extra knives, daggers, and swords.”
“What about Phoebe’s weapons?” She asked picking at a piece of loose skin on her hand.
“Already taken care of. We’re taking her weapons to her.” He said, “After we spoke with the rest of the crew this morning, we have decided that the ship is unsalvageable. They will head to Burling, to see if we can commandeer an airship for a while.”
“And what if they don’t?” The prince asked.
“Then, we’ll borrow one.” He answered.
“Borrow is a funny word for steal.” Corbin muttered.
“Did you forget you are among thieves?” Owen said. His voice rising. “With Aaron gone, I am in charge now. You are a hostage and I am calling the shots.”
“I agreed to help, but it doesn’t mean I have to agree with your methods.” He hissed.
“We are not coming back here. Take only what you can carry. Now, let’s go find our weapons, Corbin, you go with Braian. We have a few extras you can borrow.”
He waited until the other men were out of the room before descending on Adriana. Pulling back a chair he sat down, folding his large blue hands into his lap, his thumbs playing war.
“You should know that I heard your conversation with the prince last night.” He informed her.
“Oh good for you.” She said with a smile across her face, “Please tell me I should care.” The heel of her boot slammed against a wooden stool.
You should care, because what if Braian was to hear about this, children of destiny thing?” He hissed.
“If it was real, it would be none of his business, and,” she stood up from her chair, “you were smoking last night, and if I remember correctly you are prone to hallucinations when high.”
“You didn’t deny it though.” He raised his eyebrows.
“I said if it was real. Why do you care anyway?” Adriana asked rubbing a sore muscle on her shoulder.
“Why don’t you?” They sat in silence, the creaking of the wood around them playing an ominous sound.
“It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that-”
“I know,” He interrupted.
“It wasn’t my fault. Not completely.” She whispered. Her voice constricted in her throat.
“Braian wouldn’t have put himself into that much danger for anyone else, but you.” He said. “And what did you do to thank him?” She tried to open her mouth to answer, but he beat her to it. “Nothing. You let him take the fall.”
“What should I have done?” She raised her voice, her fists clamped together. “What would you have done if you were me?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm his breathing, “I would have taken the blame with him. Since both of you were there. You could have at least shared the blame with him.”
“You don’t even know the whole story, and even if you did, you still would have found a reason to hate me.” She said.
“That’s because he is more of my blood than you will ever be.” He closed his eyes.
“Once we get Phoebe back I’m going out on my own.” She walked up the stairs. “I don’t need any of you.”
When he turned around, she had left him in the room with only a distant memory playing in his head. Placing Aaron’s iron sword onto his belt, he imagined Aaron standing there, within his side view, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
* * *
Braian handed the prince a large broadsword, “And that’s the last one.”
Corbin held the steel blade at arm’s length. “Has a good balance. Not too much weight on the blade. Must have been made by a master craftsman.”
“You know your swords. That’s good. An artisan known as Quian in Burling made this one. Our boss commissioned it for my sixteenth birthday.” He said. “So don’t lose it.”
“You must have loved him very much.” He remarked.
A soft smile spread over Braian’s face, “He was the only father some of us had.”
“My father gave me a sword, similar is weight, the blade slightly longer.” the prince touched the tang of the blade, “I had it with me when I came on board, but I am sure it was lost in the crash.”
“What was lost can be found.” They turned to see Adriana who was holding another broadsword. She held onto it by the blade as she pointed the handle towards him. “This one does not belong to us.” Corbin smiled at her before nodding a thank you.
“I’ll find you a holster similar to what Owen uses so you can wear both on your back.” Braian stated. “It is always a good idea to have more than one sword on your person at all times. At least in our line of work.”
“I don’t plan on staying in your line of work for long.” He remarked.
“I found another one of Phoebe’s daggers,” Adriana interjected. “That would be three daggers and one short sword. Doesn’t she have a fourth dagger?”
“Yeah, but I think she was wearing it. Probably took that one from her.” Braian answered.
They turned to see Owen making his way from the lower cabins. Two broadswords bound to his back by a leather holster. The straps hung over his muscular shoulders, tight enough to stay during battle, but still loose enough to give him the mobility he would need. Pulling the strap on his hip holster tighter, he looked up at his companions.
“Are we all ready?” He asked throwing an extra holster to the prince. “I assume you need one of these.”
He grabbed the leather pieces, looping his arms through the straps. Adriana stood behind him, helping him lay the straps flat against his back as he buckled them over his chest. She slid the swords into the sheaths for him. Reached over his shoulders he tested how quick he could grab them.
“Okay, off my ship and on to Keyla.” Owen bellowed.
“We only have one problem genius. We don’t have a map.” She said.
“Yes, we do.” Braian said as he pulled out a piece of parchment from his back pocket. “Owen and I made it last night, all from memory.” He tapped his temple.
“Well, there is no way this could go wrong if it’s from memory.” She took the parchment from his hands to inspect it. “You only have Keyla, Burling, Eskorgan, and Belleza on here. I’m pretty sure we have been to more places than this. In fact, you don’t even have any of the smaller towns marked on here.”
Owen walked up to her, snatching the map from her grasp, “We’ll fill in the rest as we go. Our memory was a little hazy last night.” He said, “Now, let’s go.”
Chapter Nine
Playing Hero
“Time to come back inside.” the soft voice reached the ears of a little girl, her hair in ringlets down her back. She turned around to face her mother; a small woman in stature with brown eyes and brown hair that she kept tied with a yellow ribbon at the nape of her neck. Diamond hoops decorated her ears. They glittered in the waning hours of the day. “Come in right now Adriana. It’s about to rain.”
The little girl kicked the dirt and walked towards her the open door. Her purple dress was so long that as she walked she had to pull the hem of the skirt above her knees as to n
ot get it dirty.
“Mommy, it will not rain. There is not a cloud in the sky.” She informed the woman.
“That’s what you think.” Her father turned the corner picking his daughter up. The child shrieked in delight. “Now, you don’t want to get your new dress that Lady Mairwen gave you dirty do you?”
“No.” She whispered.
“Then do as your mother says.” He said placing her feet gently on the front step. Dragging her feet, she made her way into the kitchen. Reaching out his hand, he grabbed his daughter by her arm and placed a gossamer kiss to her temple as they walked.
The woman lifted her hands and pushed away loose strands of golden hair from her daughter’s face. “It is time for bed, princess.” Adriana pursed her lips. “Do not worry; tomorrow we will have visitors for you to play with.”
A smile appeared onto her small round face. “Okay.” She wiggled from her father’s grasp and took off for her bedroom.
“She’s going to be a handful.” The man said pulling out his pipe. Using his pinky, he cleaned out the old garish leaves from the interior.
“Sadly, she won’t be our handful to worry about.” Her ears pulsed to the left. “Get to bed, now!” They both heard little footsteps hitting the floor, and then the door slamming.
They waited until the sound of little footsteps could no longer be heard. The man walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a metallic tin, inside was a mix of tobacco leaves and garish leaves. Pulling a few leaves of both, he placed them into a stone bowl. Taking the pestle in hand, he crushed the leaves together.
“Did you talk to Tori?” She asked.
“Yes. It’s not good news I’m afraid.” Pushing the crumbled leaves into his pipe, he looked up at his wife. He bit the lip of the pipe as he used a candle to light the leaves in the chamber. Taking a deep drag, the smoke escaped through the corners of his mouth and nostrils.
“Heather? The child? I haven’t seen the boy for a fortnight and Heather for less.” Tears were forming in the woman’s eyes. “Lady Mairwen has banned us from mentioning Heather in her presence. I fear the worse, Ed.”
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