Voidhawk: The Elder Race

by Jason Halstead

  “I don’t think Bailynn’s long for this world,” Logan said, standing up with the wisp of a girl in his arms. His voice was strained as he spoke. “She’s holding, but it’s a fight she can’t win without more aid than I can give her.”

  Dexter nodded, then felt as though he should say more. “I expect we’ll all be needing some aid soon enough,” he offered, knowing how shallow the words sounded.

  “Xander, how bad are you hurt?” Logan asked, stopping to stare at the wizard.

  “Stabbed in the side,” he said, grimacing a little. “Can’t stop the bleeding.”

  Logan nodded, then turned back to Dexter. “Captain, there’s work enough here to keep me busy for a week and still you might lose half your crew. Let’s finish this while we still can.”

  “Finish what? My men will be back! You’ll be fed to the Garden or tortured!” The forgotten Commander of Fort Prudence spoke up.

  Dexter looked at him, the grinned devilishly. “You first,” he said, winking at him. “Rosh, throw him in the Garden.”

  Rosh chuckled darkly and grabbed the screaming elf up. He carried him halfway down the shallow bowl in the floor and then spun around twice before throwing the elf into the boughs of the garden. He screamed as he bounced off of trees and then hit the ground, then screamed again as the Garden came to life and sought him out.

  “Now what,” Dexter asked the screaming stopped. He turned and knelt next to Jenna, gently cradling her head and staring at her intently. “We’re at the Garden Jenna… what do we do now?”

  Logan came over and stood above them. He frowned as he looked down, then gently lowered Bailynn to the ground and put his hands on Jenna’s forehead. He uttered a chant and shuddered, then nodded and fell back from her, sprawling to the ground with weakness. He picked himself up after a moment and breathed deeply.

  “Jenna?” Dexter asked softly, returning his attention to her. Her hand came up and took his, squeezing it gently. His voice choked with emotion and he had to blink back tears for a moment. He saw the moisture mirrored in her own, which stared up at him with the clearness of a grassy meadow speckled with goldenrod.

  “Dex, the gift,” she whispered, drawing him in closer with her words.

  “The gift? No, we’re at the Garden Jenna, how do we sail this rock?” He asked her.

  She shook her head slightly, wincing as she did so. “The elder’s gift,” she persisted. “Dex, I’m pregnant.”

  Dexter stared at her, his crew, the Garden, and even the elven war around them suddenly disappearing into nothingness. His… she… Jenna was pregnant? She was talking again, he dimly realized. He had to drag himself out of the darkness that he was surrounded in to force himself to pay attention to her.

  “A battle of wills with the Garden – the winner will control it, but the Garden’s hunger will suck the life from them,” she whispered.

  Dexter nodded, then leaned down and kissed her upon the forehead. She squeezed his hand again, though with less strength than before, and fell asleep. Dexter stared at her then looked to Logan in alarm, the priest had a horrified expression on his face.

  “What?” Dexter asked.

  “A baby?” He asked.

  Dexter nodded. “Damn woman picked a hell of a time,” he muttered. “We’ll deal with that later, is she going to be all right?”

  Logan looked at her and nodded, then turned it into a shrug. “Are any of us?”

  “Fair enough,” He said. He turned and stood up. “Somebody’s got to go into that Garden and prove they got a thicker skull than it does. Can’t think of a person more stubborn than me, so I want the rest of you back to the ‘Hawk. She looked to be solid, if beat up, do what you have to and get her sailing again. Rosh, you got the helm and until Jenna comes around, she’s your ship.”

  Everyone stared at him, their expressions ranging from open mouthed shock to denial and, possibly, disbelief and hurt. Dexter ignored them all, instead he turned to face the Garden and took a deep breath. “Get out of here, that’s an order,” he growled.

  Kragor moved in front of him and turned to face him. Dexter stared into the helmet of the construct, then nodded to him. “All right, I know, damn fool thing to do, but it’s got to be done and I’ll not have anyone else doing it for me. Now get out of my way, old man.”

  Kragor refused to move. Dexter tried to step around him but Kragor moved to block him. “The armor make you deaf and dumb?” Dexter spat angrily at him.

  “Dex, stop,” Jodyne said, stepping up to him. She looked up at Kragor even as the ghostly dwarf tilted his new body to look down at her. She nodded and turned back to Dexter. “He’ll do it,” she said, her voice straining but not cracking.

  “What? No, he can’t sail a-”

  “He’s sat the helm before, and you know it,” she reminded him. “He’s not flesh and blood no more like the rest of us; the Garden’ll take some time figuring that out he reckons.”

  “You can talk to him now?” Dexter challenged her, refusing to believe how things were headed.

  Jodyne snorted. “Bah, live with a man a hunnered years and you see if you don’t get to start reading his mind.”

  Dexter turned to stare at Kragor. “She got the right of it?”

  Kragor nodded.

  “He been dead and gone once, Dex,” Jodyne added. “This, now? This be torture. He can’t talk nor feel to touch us; not how it matters. He can’t be sharing an ale with you, nor can he feel my pots and pans when they come a callin’ on his damn thick dwarf skull.”

  Dexter smiled in spite of the chill sweeping over him. Jodyne sniffed, then nodded. “Aye, we’ll be parting ways at last, Dexter Silvercloud. I speak for Kragor an me both; there’s not a boy alive we’re prouder to have a part in helping to become the man he is.”

  Dexter stared at her, seeing the first tears he could ever remember seeing fall from her eyes. He realized his own vision was blurry too. He knelt down and gathered the protesting woman in his arms, hugging her solidly, then he stood to address Kragor. Dexter opened his mouth to speak, but realized he didn’t have the words. He shook his head, then hugged the suit of armor before letting go and stepping back.

  “You raise that baby well, you hear?” Jodyne snapped at him. “Or we’ll both come back to haunt you next time!”

  Dexter smiled and let loose a bittersweet laugh. He stepped back and rejoined the others, who watched in respectful silence.

  “This mean I don’t get the ‘Hawk?” Rosh whispered to him after a respectful moment had passed.

  “Aye,” Dexter said, not in the mood to take it any further. He turned to take in the others, then nodded at them. “Come, back to the Voidhawk, we’ve got to get her righted and off this rock.”

  They hurried back up the tunnel, Rosh carrying Jenna now that Logan had Bailynn in his arms. The Fort shuddered once, making them stop nervously, then they felt it begin to slowly change directions. “He did it!” Dexter whispered, fresh moisture coming to his eyes.

  “Captain, why did Jodyne stay?” Keshira asked him.

  “She needed to be with him,” Dexter said. “She knew what it meant to be apart. I’m guessing dwarves mate for life and that’s that.”

  “Perhaps their love was that strong they couldn’t bear to be apart? If he lingered after death to be near her?” Tasha offered, having been filled in over the last few weeks about the situation.

  “Where’s Willa?” Rosh asked suddenly, realizing she hadn’t joined them when the others had charged in.

  Tasha’s lips parted in surprise. “Willa… didn’t make the jump,” she said. “She missed the elven ship. We tried to find her after we had captured it, but too much time and distance… we didn’t know where she went.”

  Rosh stared at her, shaking his head slowly. “She didn’t make the jump?” He repeated woodenly. “She’s floating… out there?”

  Tasha nodded. “I’m sorry, Rosh… we tried to find her.”

  Rosh stared at her, his fists clenching against his sid
es. “You tried?” He muttered, half growling.

  “Yes, My L… I mean, we did. We looked. We were under attack, elves on the ship and the elders that didn’t know we had control. We did all we could!”

  “All you could,” he repeated, shaking his head. He lapsed into silence but pushed ahead at a stronger pace, putting distance between the others and himself. They followed, their moods subdued by the latest loss.

  The elves had fled the surface of Fort Prudence. The Voidhawk lay on its side, unmolested. Ahead they could see the Fort’s course now lay directly into the sun. Dexter eyed the distance and tried to guess the time they had left. He was clueless, but he felt no need to tarry.

  “How we going to right the ‘Hawk?” Logan asked as they came up on the crashed ship.

  “First we need to see if she can still fly,” Dexter said. He fell silent, troubled by plans to pick the ship back up, until he had walked around and found the deck only a few feet above the ground. It was tilted on its side, only the broken stumps of the landing struts keeping it from laying fully on the ground. Dexter winced as he leapt up and grabbed the railing on the side. Using his arms and back he pulled himself up until he could swing his good foot and hook it over the railing.

  Once on the steeply angled deck he made his way across it carefully until he could slip down the aft stairway. Walking the companionway to the front was far easier than walking on the deck had been, but the angle proved awkward and his foot throbbed with the extra pressure he put upon it. The wood along the walls and floor was disturbed the closer he got to the bow. Rippling, cracked, and even sticking out of the surface in some places from the force of the impact. It made Dexter’s stomach twist in knots with fear that the Voidhawk may have landed its final time.

  The door to the bridge lay broken, no doubt by Keshira when she fetched Bekka from the helm. He looked about and was reminded of not so long ago when the bridge had taken a direct hit from an elven ballista. This time the hull was intact, mostly, but the table and chairs, as well as the few shelves in the room and his chest filled with charts, was strewn about the room and, in many cases, shattered. The helmsman’s chair was even tilted, though it was firmly attached to the wooden floor. The problem was the floor had been heaved up by the impact. Dexter scowled and gingerly moved to sit in it.

  Almost immediately he felt the magic merge his consciousness with the ships. He gasped at the wrongness he felt. The damage the ‘Hawk had received from the battering. He grimaced mentally and sought to see what he could convince it to still do. It responded sluggishly to his commands. Dexter broke contact and stood up, sweat beading upon his brow from the effort.

  He climbed back out to the deck, wanting to curse at the discomfort of moving, but choosing to save his energy instead. On the deck he stared down at the others who were waiting. Rosh stood ready with his sword for an attack, though it none had come.

  “Gather some ropes!” Dexter called down to them. “We’re wedged in, the ‘Hawk dug herself a ditch. There’s one of them big elfy trees off the starboard side a ways, wrap the rope around it and use it like a pulley. Rosh, Keshira, Logan, see if you can’t give her the extra oomph I need to right her.”

  “The helm works?” Xander asked, surprised. He grimaced at the pain speaking so loudly caused him but didn’t let his gaze stray.

  “Aye, now be quick about it, I’m not for wanting a sunburn!”

  Logan, Keshira, and Rosh moved quickly, climbing onto the deck and gathering up ropes. The secured it aboard the Hawk and tossed it off the starboard side, then clambered back down the port side to the deck. In a few minutes they had routed it around a tree as Dexter had bade them, about the same time that he’d regained the helm and reseated himself upon it.

  Slowly the ship righted itself. By the time it broke free of the earth’s hold Dexter was sweating profusely. He stayed aboard, relaxing only slightly, and listening with the ship’s senses to determine when everybody was aboard. Already he felt Tasha place the wounded crewmen aboard, then she loaded Tarin’s body on and finally crawled aboard herself. Login, Rosh, and Keshira joined them shortly, moving to pick up what pieces they could and take position. The mainsail was still up, though Dexter could feel cracks in the mast. They would be limited from making their best speed. Damage to the port maneuvering sail left maneuverability at a minimum.

  He lifted off, finding a moment of exultation in spite of the situation. As he’d once told Jenna, come what may they were still sailing.

  The crash of the elven command vessel had cleared enough branches and walkways above to allow the Voidhawk a peril free escape from the Fort Prudence as well. There was little sign of any elven ships above for some distance. Already Dexter could see they were closer to the sun than he’d realized. They were between it and Dasnari, in fact. Dexter struggled to direct the ship towards Dasnari, knowing the Voidhawk’s only chance was a long layover in a dock offering repairs. Even with the skill and speed, aided by magic, of the elders he knew the Voidhawk would be no quick fix.

  The Voidhawk limped along through space, growing closer and closer to the fort. Dexter, using the helm to see about the exterior of the ship, soon lost sight of Fort Prudence. Ahead of them he also quickly began to see the specs that indicated other ships were still in play. And, he had no doubt, still fighting. As they grew closer he saw many of them were elven ships. Lost fleet or not, the elves had enough numbers to maintain their supremacy it seemed.

  Dexter scowled when he saw one of the warships swing around and head in their direction. Another joined, following the lead of the first. Dexter wondered if he could swing the ‘Hawk around to fire their ballista at them, but realized such a maneuver would take so long the other ships would be upon them before they could be half way around.

  Dexter was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of brilliance behind them. He tried to focus on it using the helm, but it was so powerful it was dizzying. The brightness spread out at incredible speeds, reaching for the Voidhawk and everything else. Dexter’s last thoughts before he blacked out were that Kragor must have been successful in sailing Fort Prudence into the star.

  Epilogue

  Dexter awoke in his bed. He stared upwards, uncertain of where he was or even who he was for a long moment. Nausea overtook him almost immediately, prompting him to roll to his side and retch. The door to his cabin opened, the wood dragging against the floor in a way he did not remember. He looked up, his face flushed and his breathing ragged.

  “Are you well, Captain?” Tasha asked him somewhat uncertainly.

  Dexter groaned. It had meant to come out as intelligible words, but even he realized it was just a groan. He spat on to the floor and slowly sat up, fighting the way the walls spun. “I get dumped off the helm?” He asked.

  She nodded. “That’s what they said. Rosh is on it now; we’ve been circling Dasnari waiting for our chance to dock.”

  Dexter nodded, regretting the movement instantly. “Jenna?” He asked, then he quickly followed it up with, “and Bekka and Bailynn?”

  “Logan is tending them, Sir,” she said. “Xander too, he collapsed soon after we took off.”

  “The elves?” He croaked.

  “Gone Sir,” she said.

  “Gone?” He asked, forgetting the pain and the misery for a moment as he stared at her. “Gone where?”

  “The… the sun, we think,” she tried to explain. “It seemed to explode, catching all of us in the blast. None of the elder ships, or us, were harmed. Of the elves there is no sign.”

  Dexter’s jaw hung open at her words. He struggled to his feet and pushed past her, then cursed as he had to stomp down the hallway to the aft staircase before climbing up and staring at the surprisingly peaceful view around them. “The asteroids?” He asked.

  Tasha nodded beside him. “It took them too, Sir.”

  Dexter grunted. “Well good, they was in the way.”

  “Sir?” Tasha asked, causing him to slowly turn back to face her. “Sir I… it’s about Tarin.
I never would have thought much of it before, him dying, I mean.”

  Dexter nodded. “He was a smart lad,” he offered, not knowing Tarin well but having liked him.

  “Yes, he was,” she admitted, nodding her head. “But I mean to say that back where we came from if he’d have died we’d have just moved on. It would have been considered an acceptable casualty.”

  Dexter watched her, finally understanding that she was trying to tell him something that was important to her. His head hurt and he wanted nothing more than to have a drink of water, some solid food, and a chance to sleep it off. Such was not the way the dice were rolled for him, he knew.

  “I want to thank you and your crew, but most especially you, Captain,” She said.

  Dexter frowned. “Thank me? If you’d never met me Tarin might be alive still. You’d be back in the comfort of your…well, whatever comforted you.”

  “Maybe, but I’d be less of a woman than I am now,” she said, shrugging his words off. “I want to thank you for making Tarin’s death matter to me.”

  Dexter stared at her, then he nodded. “I carry the weight of every tombstone with me wherever I go.”

  She nodded, smiling sadly, and pointed. “Jenna and the others are resting over there, Sir.”

  Dexter smiled his thanks and turned away, hobbling over to check on them. Logan looked up at him as he approached, his own face pale and tired. Dexter nodded to him, then dropped down heavily next to the sleeping Jenna. He took her hand and felt content to say nothing while the ship began its final approach to dock at Dasnari.

  As soon as they docked a party of elders asked permission to come aboard. Dexter bid them enter, climbing wearily to his feet to greet them. The elder that had spoken with him before greeted him with a beneficent smile upon his face. Some of the others went to the fallen, stooping over them to study them. Within moments each of them breathed easier. Dexter stared rudely, ignoring the speaker for a moment while he watched medical miracles take place before his eyes. Bones and flesh knitted together in seconds that should have taken days or weeks.