Master of Myth (The Antigone's Wrath Series Book 1)

by Starla Huchton

He accepted the item and slid it into the interior pocket of his blazer. “That’s very kind of you. I know our original agreement did not include return transportation, Captain.”

  She ignored the thanks and pressed on. “I’m also going to assume you’re in need of money for food, lodging, and expenses, and so I have this for you as well.” Rachel untied a purse from her belt and offered it.

  Silas frowned at the money, as though it offended him. “That isn’t necessary.”

  Rachel grabbed his hand and shoved the purse at him. “Consider it as payment for your services to my master-at-arms these past days. Without your assistance, his…” She searched for the appropriate phrasing. “Transition to his current state would have been considerably more difficult, if not altogether impossible.” Scowling, Rachel turned her attention back to the water.

  “I see,” Silas replied softly and shifted his weight. “When are Eddie and I to leave?”

  “First thing in the morning,” she said. “We’re shoving off at first light.”

  He nodded. “As such, I should probably get what sleep I can then. Doubtful I’ll see such grand accommodations as these for a while.”

  Rachel smiled a little. “She is grand indeed, Mr. Jensen. Doubtless she’ll be sorry to see you go.”

  Silas gave a small laugh. He made to leave, but after only two steps, he turned back to her. “Do you suppose I shall ever see your sails above my city?”

  “Depends.” She faced him and leaned on the railing. “Did you ever finish those schematics?” A wry grin turned up the corner of her mouth.

  He coughed nervously. “Not precisely, no.”

  Rachel graced him with a genuine smile and a knowing nod. He acknowledged the open-ended conversation with a grin and a shake of his head before disappearing below deck one last time.

  Quito, Ecuador was little more than a colorful blur to Rachel. She made her excuses to Danton and left him with orders to find some sort of something in the way of a job. When he pressed her for a departure date, her only answer was, “When I return. No more than a few days at most.”

  She didn’t have an exact location, but her Spanish was passable enough to procure a guide with a good understanding of where she wanted to go. The worn trail Pahuac led her on was barely wide enough for two carts to pass in opposite directions. Their mode of transportation, a stubborn pair of mules, carried both people and a small amount of camping gear. Aside from a few choice weapons, Rachel brought only one other thing with her; an ebony box inlaid with jade and gold tiles.

  A day of travel, a night of camping, and a short ride in the morning saw Rachel to her destination. The guide smiled broadly as he pointed for her to proceed off the trail, into dense, lush forest. She pushed through giant foliage and flowering bushes for a few minutes before stumbling into a dream. As she cleared the last of the thick underbrush, the heady scent of flowers enveloped her and she came to a standstill. Giant white trumpets dripped from every tree branch. Hummingbirds flitted from one blossom to the next, disappearing within the petals at every stop. Rachel stood in the moss-covered clearing, gaping at the beauty surrounding her; it was even more awe-inspiring than the photo she saw as a child in Mrs. Tweed’s garden.

  She returned to tell her guide this was indeed the place she was searching for. After informing him of her intention to stay a while, she retrieved a small chest. While he set up a campsite, Rachel would see to the thing she came to do.

  A gentle breeze drifted through the flora as she rested in the midst of the hanging datura. She knelt on the ground, facing the ebony box, and closed her eyes. Though she had never been here before, she knew this place. It felt intimate. She hadn’t been able to share the peace and solitude of this grove with Iris in life, but it would serve as Rachel’s last gift to her friend. This would be their sanctuary.

  Rachel laid a hand on the lid and closed her eyes. “I miss you, Iris.”

  The soft swaying of branches was the only reply.

  “There isn’t anything in my life you didn’t leave a mark on…” Her words caught as the first of many tears escaped. “I honestly don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on now. Danton will never be able to put me in my place the way you could. Not to mention he’s a lousy navigator.” She chuckled, but her laughter died away. “You should have followed my orders. If only I had been more insistent…” She slammed her fist on the box as a wave of sorrow broke over her. Rachel let go of all of the grief she held in for weeks, letting it flood out of her onto the damp earth. Hours passed and her weeping continued. Rachel cried when her father died, but nothing, not even that loss, could compare to the gaping maw of total despair that threatened to swallow her. Part of her wished it would.

  “There’s still more for you, dearest Rachel…”

  Her eyes flew open and she stilled instantly. Had she lost herself to madness? She must have imagined that voice.

  Yet, she felt Iris, as surely as she had when she was chained to a wall in a steel room. She didn’t breathe. She didn’t dare disturb a single particle of aether with her desperate wish.

  “I am with you… Always…”

  She squeezed her eyes tight, reaching for the memory, the feeling of Iris: her first mate, her best friend, and her partner in everything. Moments flashed in her mind, one after the other: smiles, laughter, scoldings, frustrations… comfort.

  “Rest now…”

  A touch lighter than a feather smoothed her hair and Rachel felt her body go limp, emotional and physical exhaustion overcoming her at last.

  Tropical birdsong and the hum of insects eased her into wakefulness. Judging by the soft light filtering through the dense leaves above her, she slept through the evening and night. Some time during those hours, Pahuac covered her with a thin blanket. It was a small kindness she greatly appreciated.

  She blinked as she took stock of herself. Rachel no longer felt alone, merely empty. This was far better than the alternative. This was the chance to be filled again, knowing there was more love in the world to find than she could fathom. True, she would never see her beloved friend again, but Iris was not lost to her completely. Rachel noted a lingering presence in the air: an intangible thing, yet still familiar. She smiled and inhaled deeply. Things were growing, living all around her. It was time.

  She pulled the blanket around her shoulders as she stood. The ebony coffer was right where she left it. She bent and pulled it close to her chest.

  “I knew this was the place for you,” she whispered to the air. “I suppose I was saving it for you. I always meant to bring you here, I only wish it was under other circumstances.” She paused, but got no response. She hadn’t expected to. “It’s all right now, you know. I will grieve for you more, my most important one, but I’ll do as you say. There are other adventures to be had. I do hope you’ll come along with me.”

  The birds continued with their multitude of songs. The insects buzzed and hummed.

  With a small nod, Rachel held the box out and unlatched the lid. Fine gray dust lifted into the air as she scooped a handful of the powder and bone into her hand. As it sifted through her fingers, the wind lifted it, sending it spiraling up into the sky. She continued the distribution without speaking another word.

  When the last of the ashes scattered to the winds, she closed the box and sighed. “This place is better for having you here, Iris.” Rachel smiled. She snapped the lid closed and took one last look around the magnificent datura forest. “Goodbye, my cherished companion.”

  She left the quiet haven with a new understanding and purpose. The vengeance in her heart lifted, but it left a purpose in its wake. Three very dangerous men were loose in the world, certainly planning retribution and God only knew what else. Their mere existence did not sit well with her. Evil such as she felt radiating from the three mysterious Brotherhood leaders should not be allowed to continue. Doubtless, they would be monumentally difficult to locate, but Rachel was confident Danton would have some ideas on where to start.

  A
t least she recovered the ring, but that did not discount the possibility for another Machine. She would have to succeed where her mother failed. She would find a way to destroy it, but, for now, it would remain with her, locked away in her concealed cabin safe.

  She folded the blanket in fourths and slung it over the donkey’s back. Pahuac, surprisingly awake and ready to depart, regarded her distantly, as if trying to determine her mental state. She caught his eye and gave him a satisfied nod. It seemed to be a good enough sign for him, and he started off down the mountain trail back to Quito. Rachel glanced in the direction of the datura clearing, but only once. She would hold this memory in her heart without letting it weigh her down. That was what Iris would want for her, and so she would have it.

  As the sun crested over the mountains her mind turned to the future. Danton would find a job for them and life, her life, would continue. A fine lady anticipated her return, and the captain hated to keep her waiting. The warm embrace of the Antigone’s Wrath pulled Rachel onwards, to her home in the sky and on the sea.

  Acknowledgements

  This novel has sat idle for four years, but there are those who never gave up on seeing it come to light. For those who stuck by their adamant conviction in this story, and for those who’ve helped me see it through to the version you’ve now read, you have my eternal thanks.

  In no particular order:

  Steph and JP Harvey - the original uber fans.

  Laura Spencer - friend and fangirl.

  Mr. Christopher - forever patient.

  John Taylor Williams - best bartender and dastardly villain ever.

  The Fierce Five - sisters forever.

  The Mischief Makers - perpetually indulgent.

  Tee Morris and Pip Ballantine - may others have as much unwavering faith in you as you’ve shown me.

  Jamie Jordan - keep trying. Never surrender.

  Amanda Daws - you are flawless. And a bit of a pirate. ;)

  Lisa-Anne Samuels - sometimes the biggest hurdle we must overcome is our own self-doubt.

  Alex White - consistently awesome.

  Scott Huchton - this balancing act doesn’t work without you.

  To anyone I may have forgotten, know that you’ve left your mark on this book and on me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  About the Author

  A geek of all trades, Starla Huchton has been crafting stories in various genres since 2007. Her first novel, The Dreamer’s Thread, was released as a full cast audiobook podcast, becoming a double-nominee and finalist for the 2010 Parsec Awards. After releasing short fiction of steampunk, noir fantasy, and other varieties, she released the first three books of the Sci-Fi Romance Endure series in 2013. All three books of the New Adult Superhero Romance series, the Evolution series, were released in 2014, as well as a Steampunk Fantasy novel, Master of Myth (the Antigone's Wrath series, book 1), which was the first place winner of the Crested Butte Writers' contest, The Sandy, in 2012.

  When not writing, she trains three Minions, a black lab, and a military husband whilst designing book covers for independent authors and publishers at http://www.designedbystarla.com.

  Connect with the author on the Starla Huchton Author Page on Facebook, @riznphnx on Twitter, or at http://www.starlahuchton.com.