Renegade Skyfarer

by R. J. Metcalf

  “Quick question for you.” Ben hesitated for half a second and prayed that his friendship with Zak wasn’t about to plummet back to the coldness of last night. “Jade. It’s clear she’s a sore subject, and you like her though you seem to deny it. What’s going on?”

  Zak became completely still, a dark statue in a bustling room of amber light. He didn’t say anything, just stared at his mug, lips pressed together and a crease between his eyebrows. Finally, he sighed deeply through his nose. “It doesn’t matter if I lov—like her, I can’t be with her. And nothing good would come if I encouraged that line of thought.”

  Couldn’t be with her? Or wouldn’t be with her?

  “What? No food yet?” Briar plunked himself down in his chair with a moan. “I’d hoped that talking with the women for a while would guarantee the arrival of sustenance.”

  Zak smirked and sipped from his mug, eyes downcast.

  Finishing that conversation with Zak would have to happen later. “So, how are they, since they’ve been so far away from your sparkling presence? Have they survived?” Ben asked.

  Briar’s chair creaked as he stretched. “Krista and Jade think my pickup lines are bad. They just don’t appreciate my inspiration.”

  “If you likened them to food, no, they wouldn’t appreciate your inspiration,” Zak replied dryly. “I’ve yet to meet any female who appreciates that.”

  “Hey, Krista didn’t mind when we first started dating,” Briar defended.

  “Krista was too overjoyed that you finally got over your cold feet and asked her. At that point, she was willing to overlook such grievous mistakes in character.” Zak leaned back and crossed his arms. “She’s smarter now.”

  Briar recoiled with a laugh. “Ouch, man. Talk about a burn.”

  “So what line did they hate so much?” Ben asked. He smiled his gratitude as the waitress slid several plates onto their table. He plucked a piece of meat from the steaming plate and blew on it. “Or do we even want to know? And why do you even need pickup lines?”

  “I use them on Krista whenever we’re out of the Sapphire like this. Keeps the romance alive, you know?” Briar grinned at Ben and leaned across the table on one arm. “If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”

  Ben cracked up while Zak groaned.

  “Briar, that’s awful.” Zak shook his head with a pained expression. “Please don’t ever say something that horrible again. It’s a blight on the male race.”

  Amusement bubbled within Ben as he looked at Zak. “Life without you would be like a broken pencil—pointless.”

  Zak shot him an unamused look. “I’m not joining in on this.”

  “You don’t have to. You’re the one sitting here.” Ben chuckled as he brandished a leg of chicken at Zak. “And the less likely you are to participate, the more amusing it is for us.”

  An evil spark entered Zak’s eye, and he grinned slowly. “Participation? How about this. Next girl that walks in, you have to use a pickup line on. That should be amusing.”

  “Deal.”

  Ben and Zak shook on it and returned to their food.

  Briar coughed. “So, Ben, it’s time to make good on your deal.”

  “No problem. Where is she?” Ben swirled the liquid in his mug and quickly washed down his bite of potato. He followed Briar’s finger and felt his confidence waver.

  An angel walked behind their table toward the bar. The glittering light highlighted sharp, tan cheekbones, and her raven hair glimmered and shone as she moved. Her gaze flickered over their table, and Ben’s body tingled at the depths of her dark eyes. A deep blue tunic hugged all the right curves in all the right places, and the sword on her hip only heightened the image of perfection. Her casual grace and confidence suggested that the weapon wasn’t merely for show.

  Ben pushed his mug away from the edge of the table as he stood clumsily. Zak slouched and covered his mouth with a hand, already wincing. Silent laughter shook Briar’s shoulders. Ben ignored them.

  She stood by the counter, waiting for the bartender to finish mixing her drink.

  The closer he sauntered, the more nervous he felt. Though he’d felt a draw to Jade, this was a different draw. Jade needed a friend, a protector, someone to walk alongside her. This woman was special. Confidence radiated from her, and a sense of something else that Ben couldn’t put his finger on. Need a champion, she did not.

  Never had he regretted taking on a dare this much.

  He took a deep breath before leaning an arm on the polished wood and flashing her his most dazzling smile. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re gorgeous?”

  A single black eyebrow rose, and she frowned at him.

  He wouldn’t be deterred. He had to get to know her. There was something about her that pulled him in like a moth to a flame, and getting burned would be well worth it. “Because you are. I’m Ben.” He held out a hand. “And you are?”

  She sighed and paid the barkeeper with a quiet “thank you.” She lifted two mugs, pausing only then to look him in the face. “Raine.” Her voice was flat and emotionless as she answered, ignoring his hand.

  He dropped his hand to his hip in a suave gesture. “A lovely name for a—”

  “Please, just stop.” Raine rolled her eyes and shook her head before walking away.

  Ben watched forlornly as she sat with an older gentleman in a corner booth. He sighed and returned to his table to find Briar gasping for air, tears of laughter visible in the corners of his eyes. Zak’s hand had moved to cover his eyes instead of his mouth. They both looked at him when he dropped into his chair. Briar started snickering again, and Zak dragged his hand down his cheek with a grimace.

  “That was more painful than amusing.” Zak shook his head. “Absolute torture.”

  Briar wiped tears from his eyes. “Better luck with the next girl.”

  “Oh, no.” Ben sipped from his mug, his eyes traveling to the corner where Raine sat. “I’m not giving up.”

  Briar spluttered and coughed, pounding on his chest before looking at Ben with watering eyes. “Oh, really?” His gaze traveled past Ben, and Ben turned to see Jade watching him from the bar, her eyes filled with questions.

  He fought to keep the grimace off his face. Had Jade mistaken his friendliness with her for something else? It wasn’t like he’d done anything to lead her on. The shopkeeper’s comment about them being married rose in his mind, and he froze with a wince. He’d have to talk to Jade and make sure that he hadn’t somehow given the wrong impression in his playful banter that he’d meant to ease her tension. He nudged a potato on his plate with his fork and resisted the urge to look at Raine again. “I at least want to meet her properly. Someday.”

  Zak’s green eyes darted in Raine’s direction. “I think I’m willing to encourage that. But that will have to be a different day. We should finish up and head back before it gets much later.”

  Briar pulled his plate closer and slid his arms around it as a shield. “I’m finishing my potatoes first.”

  “I know.” Zak’s eyes tightened with a smile as he rubbed a hand through his hair. He blew out a deep breath. “Ben. I need to ask you for a big favor.”

  Ben tensed at Zak’s tone. “What’s the favor?”

  Zak hunkered over the table, his jaw tense. “When Jade next goes to the palace to visit Queen Violet, I need you to escort her.”

  Cold fluttered through Ben’s gut. He kept his voice even as he racked his brain for everything that Jade had mentioned in passing about the palace and the prince there. “That sounds deceptively easy. What’s the catch? Why can’t you go?”

  Briar coughed and pounded on his chest. He raised a hand to forestall Ben’s additional back thumping, his eyes watering. “I’m good.”

  Zak shot Briar a sidelong look and pursed his lips. “The prince there has already proven to be handsy when it comes to Jade, and we’ve…disagreed over his intentions toward her.” He scowled at his mug. “I’m forbidden to be on palace property, and my pres
ence is barely tolerated in Lucrum because of it.”

  Jade laughed beside Krista, and Ben consciously relaxed his aching fists. He’d been willing to do whatever it took to get her to safety while in the market this morning, but that had been in free territory, where it was easy to run or hide her. In the palace, it would be different. Rules and etiquette, and in the prince’s own playing field.

  Ben would be sorely outmatched for what would be considered politically proper. “Will my presence make things more difficult for her?”

  “Not particularly, no.” Zak’s jaw twitched. “We’d rather risk some political affront than her safety.”

  Ben raised his eyebrow. “We?”

  “Captain Slate and I.”

  Interesting. Ben tapped his fingers against his mug, considering. From what he’d gathered before, if it really came down to it, he could be in the crosshairs of the rulers here. Crosshairs? Ben shoved the odd word choice aside and focused on Zak’s request. He didn’t want to start any issues here—didn’t want to risk anything that would interfere with his goal of figuring out his past.

  But he’d be damned if he let something happen to Jade when he could defend her.

  Ben drew his shoulders back and looked Zak in the eye. “You can count on me. Consider her protected.”

  Zak nodded once, then tossed back the last of his drink and set it on the table with a note of finality. “Tomorrow, the captain meets Lord Everett, and it’d be best if we’re all sharp and prepared for whatever Slate will need us for after that.”

  “What could he need us for tomorrow?”

  Zak twitched his shoulders and shot Ben a dark look. His voice lowered, barely audible over the din of the tavern. “When it comes to Lord Everett and what he thinks of our crew, anything is possible.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Slate

  “With all due respect, my lord.” Slate filled his lungs with the stuffy air, smoothed his brown dress coat with his palms, and dared to move a half a step closer to Lord Everett. Then Slate bowed. “The money from your taxes would be best spent in defense of the barrier. You know there was an attack on Heather Isle, and the Doldran keystone—”

  Lord Everett raised both black eyebrows and leaned forward, the single gem in his gold crown glittering under the throne room lights. “Are you presuming to tell me that my plan for my money is not what you think it should be?”

  Smooth, Slate, smooth. Insulting him is not going to do anyone any favors.

  Maybe staying up late the night before hadn’t been the brightest of ideas. But here he was, sluggish brain and all, meeting the one man in all of southern Terrene whom Slate distinctly did not want to steam. And yet, he had to make the ruler see reason.

  He caught Queen Violet’s wince from the corner of his eye and tried to backtrack with as much logic and humility he could muster this early in the morning. “No, my lord, it wouldn’t be my place.” Slate bowed as low as he could, and came up, ready to try again. “But, my lord, dragons have been steadily increasing in numbers around Doldra, and the time flux has only worsened at the keystone since the…” he swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “Fall of the royal family, and we must stabilize it. On top of that, we don’t know who attacked the Heather Isle keystone, and if they’re going to attack again. If we can find something that will, in fact, secure it, we can protect all the southern nations.”

  Everett stood and paced with long strides on his glossy gypsum dais, turning on his heel with a snap and flourish as he reached one corner. He shook his head and paused where the light cast dark shadows across his pale face. “Governor Bentley keeps me apprised of the situation in Doldra, and it’s not as severe as you make it out to be.” He smirked at Slate. “If I didn’t know better, Captain,” he emphasized Slate’s title as if it were fit for a child, “I would think you’ve heard a few too many blood-bond bogeyman stories in your youth. As for the Isle, the keystone there received no damage. It’s of little concern.”

  A flash of heat broiled through Slate, igniting his skin and burning away the vestiges of exhaustion that clung to him. He ground his teeth to prevent himself from retorting something rude. Insulting the ruler of two countries while in that ruler’s palace would not go over well. Even if Lord Everett wasn’t the King of Doldra, his marriage to Queen Violet clearly had gone to his head, giving him the audacity to act as if he were the rightful ruler. “Maybe so, but would you still permit us to search for such an artifact in our travels?”

  Lord Everett snorted and waved a hand dismissively before tugging the bottom edges of his black uniform jacket. He sniffed. “Of course. If you can keep up with your schedule for our deliveries here, what do I care how you spend your time?”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Slate’s bow wasn’t as grudging this time.

  “Captain Slate.” Queen Violet finally spoke from where she sat on a couch to the side of Everett’s desk, her spine straight and gaze unrelenting. “I do have a mission for you to undertake, immediately, should your men be available.”

  Slate shifted his stance to face Violet directly. She was the only source of color in the otherwise stark Aerugan room. White walls, black floor, gray and white furnishings--only the obsidian thrones held a bit of color with crimson veins shooting through them. Violet’s deep chestnut skin complemented by a sapphire-toned dress offered a pleasant respite from the monotony.

  “My men can be called together very easily, my lady.” Slate smiled warmly at her, and the edges of her mouth tipped up in return. “What can we do for you?”

  Her smile slipped away as apprehension etched lines around her eyes and her skin lost some of its warmth. “Advisor Samuel was expected to return from Piovant and report with his convoy four days ago. He hasn’t arrived.” Her fingers twisted in her skirt before quickly smoothing the fabric. “Please, try to find my uncle. We can supply you with maps of the route they typically use.”

  The idea of Samuel Thistle being in possible danger concerned Slate just as much as it did the queen. Samuel had been a voice of reason and justice for as long as Slate had known him—even before the deaths of Prince Richard and the Doldras royal family, and before Violet’s remarriage to Lord Everett. Slate pushed back the unease and tilted his head in a sign of acceptance. “We’ll begin the search as soon as we have the maps.”

  * * *

  “Captain, we’re almost to the Wyld Woods.”

  Here they were again. Slate nodded to acknowledge Victor’s words and peered through his telescope, sweeping it to and fro across the horizon, hoping and praying for a flash of metal or a glimpse of an airship. But where could such a large ship disappear to?

  “Continue on along this path.” Slate glanced down at the map provided from the Aerugan palace and traced the Sapphire’s path over the marked route of the Dauntless, his gloved finger skidding along the protective glass casing. “We’ll continue along this direction until we reach Piovant, and if we don’t find them, we’ll double back and widen the search.”

  A flash of Victor’s bald head indicated a nod, but the man had already returned to the helm. Slate drummed his fingers against the rail and sighed. While Advisor Samuel Thistle didn’t know Jade’s true identity, he had a sympathy for Slate’s family and was a valuable ally within the royal palace. To lose Samuel through some accident would be grievous. Slate wanted to avoid that at all costs.

  A glint to the right attracted Slate’s attention, and he snapped the telescope back to his eye, carefully panning from left to right. There! Through the thick canopy of trees, he could just glimpse the shiny black material of the Dauntless’s helium balloon.

  “Victor!” Slate shouted over his shoulder. “Bear ninety degrees starboard!”

  “Aye, sir!”

  Hope rose in Slate’s chest as they drew nearer to the downed ship. Not a dragon in sight, and two men on the ground next to the egg-shaped airship waved and cheered when they saw the Sapphire. Slate spun around and clattered down the steps to the engine room.
He popped his head in and rapped on the wall to get Jade’s and Krista’s attention.

  “Ladies, we are about to land by the Dauntless.” As he spoke, the turbines whined outside the walls, indicating their descent. “And if first looks are to be believed, I’m going to guess she ran into some sort of technical difficulty, not a dragon-related problem.”

  Krista snorted and moved away from the bronze boiler as she dropped her goggles to rest around her neck. “No surprise there. Steamy ships have so many issues.”

  “Yeah.” Jade wiped the back of her hand against her face, smearing a black glob of grease across her pale cheek. “Those new ships are so much less reliable than our good ol’ grav stones.” She patted the floorboards lovingly. “Hopefully, their problem is running out of water for their boiler and not helium-related. That’d be a pain to fetch.”

  Slate leaned against the doorway, staying as far out of the humid room as possible, and grinned at Jade’s dirty face and Krista’s rumpled hair. “Either way, I’ll be bringing you two along to talk to their mechanic and see what we can do to help, so you may want to look somewhat presentable.”

  He trotted back up the stairs where the fresh, cool breeze ruffled his cotton shirt, and he mulled over what the two had said. It was true enough. Ever since the barrier went up some sixty-odd years ago, grav stones had become harder to mine, then impossible to further excavate, due to the location of the barrier over the mines. Piovant worked hard to create other airships that weren’t reliant on the grav stones, but the new steam-tech vessels weren’t built the same in any way, shape, or form. They weren’t as sturdy as the Sapphire, with her solid wood and metal. These new ships were light-weight wood and canvas, they were run by minimal crew, and they weren’t meant for hauling cargo.

  Please, let it be a simple fix.

  Victor landed the Sapphire, and Slate walked down the gangplank with Zak and the girls to where a bearded man in a black Aerugan military uniform stood at ease.

  The Dauntless captain shook Slate’s hand with a strong grip and a relieved smile. “Am I glad to see you!”