Adventures of Captain Xdey

by Laura Dasnoit

  Chapter Two

  Uncomfortable was a word Xoey would use to describe the event of having her hair yanked in all different directions to fit under the wide-brimmed hat. She stood before the two siblings with a questioning look. “Well?”

  They had forced her into charcoal slacks held up by suspenders and finished off her new look with a white button down shirt. As a compromise, she didn’t have to button the top button or wear a ribbon around her neck. The slacks tucked down into knee high black boots.

  Nadine held out her hand, palm up, toward Mal. “Pay up.”

  With a scoff, he reached into his pocket, fumbling for a coin, and then shrugged. “Nothing on me.”

  Xoey carefully picked up her legs as she walked in the boots, giving the appearance of sneaking. Without fault, of course. Mal hunched over, falling into giggle fits. His loose curls swayed forward, leaving Xoey with the wonderment of what they would feel like on her own head. Nadine tilted her head in observance. “Just walk as you would barefoot.” Xoey took one step forward. The ship shifted forward at a downward angle; one moment they were standing and the next, they all tumbled down.

  The candles rolled, the flame fading to a trail of smoke, casting the room into darkness. The table began its quick descent, barely going airborne. It crashed against the middle, splintering a leg. Xoey tumbled against her will and somehow ended up wedged in a corner by a chair. Nadine and Mal collided in the air before bumping several times on the floor. He let out a soft whimper as they met the wall with a thump. Xoey wiggled up and over the chair. “What is happening?”

  Mal helped his sister up. There was a look of worry. “My dad’s warning sign. Wouldn’t you know something was up if your ship went straight down?”

  Xoey wasn’t too sure how to question the logic of why it would just swing downward. If it happened on her ship, everyone would drown. They likely did not have the time to answer as they were already out the door.

  “Wait for me,” Xoey called out after them. Managing her way through an inverted ship was tricky. It was full of sliding, climbing, and twisting in ways that were not normal. The rope Nadine found helped out a lot. The engine room was on the first floor, beneath the open deck, wedged in the back where gravity was far from a friend.

  Pressure gauges idled in a black box with shiny levers that were carefully arranged for speed and thrust. A large tank sat in an upper corner. Mal explained that this was where coal was shoved to convert into steam, but most importantly, there should have been bags of coal. Even with the sudden drop, the source of energy would be piled up against the far wall.

  Nadine flicked a nervous glance to her brother. “Are you sure you know which ones to pull?”

  He answered with a nod.

  Xoey sat on Nadine’s shoulders and Mal sat on Xoey’s shoulders as they rested their backs on the inverted floor to give him the height he needed to reach the handles. His thighs pressed the brim of her hat down past her ears, and she couldn’t see a thing, but she did hear, “Uh oh…”

  With a groan and a sputter, the ship jumped in the air sending the children up…and right back down. Surprisingly, they managed to stay intact in the human ladder.

  Nadine wasn’t too thrilled though. “Mal!”

  He grinned sheepishly at his sister’s anger. “Sorry.” He yanked down the far right lever. The aircraft clicked upward about ten paces before it was once again level.

  Mal and Nadine scrambled out of the ladder, off the floor, and out on deck. “Mom! Dad!” he yelled in desperation.

  Nadine clutched her brother. “They’re fine. We’ll find them.”

  He pushed her away. “How? How are we going to find them? They could have fallen into the ocean.”

  Xoey narrowed her eyes on a peculiar rubbing within the grain of the wooden floor. She pointed out the charred marking. “Has this always been there?”

  Nadine had long loose curls that she tied back at the nape of her neck. Her petite mouth tightened into a fine line as she took in the burnt pattern. “Certain contraptions are not meant for particular substances. The pattern that is embedded into the wood is due to the exhaust tail angled toward the ground therefore it is either a Swooper Heli or a Glider Bike.”

  Mal chimed in, “No way can it be a Swooper. Bugger is too long for the deck’s hold…and very few are precarious enough to ride the Glider Bike.” He seemed rather proud of using precarious in a sentence.

  Nadine shrugged her shoulders. “Well, the only way we can find out is to search, and since I am the oldest, I say we start at Yorego. We’re close enough to where they might have seen something.”

  Xoey could feel a lump in her throat. She wanted so much to protest, but the only sign of an impending tantrum was in her clenched fists.

  The ship trudged on toward Grittle. Xoey could see a wall separating Yorego from the rest of Grittle. The only access aside from the port was by way of a bridge. She could feel a twinge of anger as it was the very village that cast her out as an infant. There were the infinite questions as to why, and as the craft sailed closer to the port the more she visualized what she would say.

  The three walked down the gangplank. The village was miniscule in size. Cavernous rocks gave the impression of height from above, but the houses were built against the rock face. It lacked pattern within the grain of the stone. Xoey wondered if a five-year-old threw splattered paint, and wherever it landed there would be a house. Fish and saltwater was all that tickled her nose. As the three walked, the pale villagers disappeared into their tiny homes and pulled their shutters tight. Xoey shrugged. “Well, that was fun. Time for another plan.”

  “You should not be here,” a voice cried out from behind. Xoey turned to find a woman hunched over from the burdens of age. What kept her stride in a balanced motion was the thick red-wood cane and upon it were inscriptions Xoey could not read. Her face was haggard with wrinkles that were set in contrast to a pair of vibrant orange eyes that seemed to take in their souls, weighed them, measured them, and spit them back out. Her blue-tinted spider web-like hair was wrapped in coils with small trinkets woven in. A shiver crawled up Xoey’s spine, but she dared not move a muscle. “You.” She was speaking directly at Xoey. “Should not be here. Not yet, at least.”

  Nadine stepped forward, rather bravely. “We’re looking to see if anyone saw a bike soar overhead.”

  The old woman kept her gaze upon Xoey. “The scrolls called for two decades to pass. Why the shift in your paved path, Xoey?”

  Mal inhaled sharply.

  Xoey tilted her head, removing her hat. She didn’t want to admit she was as lost as her two new friends. She could hear doors opening, followed by the hushed murmurs of the occupants.

  The pirate furrowed her brows. “The only reason I am here is to find out answers about their parents.” She cocked her thumb in Nadine and Mal’s direction. “Pirates don’t have paths.”

  The Elder narrowed her eyes. “A pirate…already. What of your father?”

  She found herself looking to the ground, unable to speak on the matter.

  “I see,” the woman said. “Well, you are here now. I suppose it is better than never. I am Isena, Elder of Yorego, and the one destined to guide you.”

  Xoey shifted, uncertain what to make of this revelation. “Guide me?”

  Mal shrugged. “Maybe she knows something.”

  Isena smiled at Mal. “You are a Tinkerton, like your father, Roe. Whereas Nadine possesses her mother’s talents…but that is a story for another day.”

  His jaw dropped. “Can you read my mind? What number am I guessing?”

  Nadine rolled her eyes. “Leave her alone, Mal.”

  Xoey waited patiently for answers. Isena looked at Xoey. “Come, and I will explain.” She gestured for everyone to follow. “Ten,” she said simply, as though it were nothing but an afterthought.

  Mal guffawed in ast
onishment. “Where can I learn that power?”

  Isena led them further up the path. Even in the dark, the torches gave off a warming glow, leading them to an estate made of driftwood. The home seemed to take in the shadows to bounce off of the sea glass windows. Small seashell chimes swung softly in the tender wind, and for once, Xoey felt at peace—much like she did at sea. They walked through the front door. The room magically came alive as the rows of candles along the side tables sprang to life. Along the center table was the largest seashell she had ever seen. It had to have been home to a three-foot snail at least! Small puffs of a tangy musk wafted from the opening. But Xoey was more interested in the contents within the cauldron that was set to boil over in the far left corner. There was no smell in the world that could take away her desire to eat. Isena, several paces ahead, removed three bowls from the floor cabinet. She returned with them full. “Eat.”

  The broth was earthy in taste, followed by a crunchy bit of some sea creature she had yet to experience. Mal and Nadine took great care in their bites, spooning away from the bowl, slurping politely. Xoey, on the other hand, greedily picked up the wooden bowl and chugged the soup. Content, she used her sleeve to wipe her mouth. Mal chortled at the sight as Nadine fidgeted with the spoon.

  Isena patiently waited for them to finish. When she spied three empty bowls, she settled into the rocking chair. “It was not our intention to push you out, Xoey.” She paused in contemplation. “However, it is not our way to tempt the cycle of fates, therefore, when your enemies came to destroy you we had no choice but to cast you out into the ocean.”

  Xoey narrowed her eyes. “I was told my mother died giving birth to me, and no one wanted me here.”

  The Elder shook her head. “Not quite. Your mother did die, but she died protecting you.” The candles flickered and dimmed with a motion of her hand. She gestured to the far wall, and the shadows began to tell a story in picture form as she spoke.

  “The ocean welcomed you from the night you were born. The moon was so very close to the waters, it caused the tides to push farther up into this village. There was a fear that our very possessions would be washed out to sea.” She smiled and added, “When your mother held you, the sea receded and calmed immediately. A beautiful creation you were. Your eyes reflected the color of the greenest bits of the ocean, hair as white as sea foam, and most importantly, the effect your birth had upon the waters. Once this was spread to the rulers of the city, they wanted you for their own greed, and thus we had to cast you out … But the night before we could, a great storm came through, threatening the ships by land and air and we were landlocked. The dark clad men came at midnight. They spun wildly in the air with weapons of steel. Your mother, a great weapon smith, couldn’t hold them back. She did not die in vain, as your father was able to take you out in the dangerous storm.”

  Xoey rubbed her hands along the brim of her hat. “Why would they want me?”

  Isena continued to rock. “Such complexity,” she said. From the folds of her tattered brown dress, she removed a wrinkled brown parchment.

  “A child will be born of the sea to meld forces with five. These six will bring the world as it once was—to set the wrong things right.” She snapped her bony fingers and the parchment floated over to the three. Nadine had a longer reach and therefore took hold of it as Isena continued. “Halfway there, my dear Xoey. Long before you were born, the world was simple and without contraptions to fuel a war that will never be again. Nix seeks to indulge a delusion of another Great War.”

  “Did Nix take our parents?” asked Mal.

  Isena shrugged her shoulders. “We are not certain as to who it was, as we were not there to witness the acts. The bike you spoke of did, in fact, soar above this town. It did not return back through, however.” She paused, taking in scenery that they could not see. “It is time you left.”

  Xoey started to protest, as she had many questions still, but was met with a serious look. “Xoey, it is important you understand that all you seek to know will be discovered in time. We cannot give you the answers, for even as an Elder, we are not allowed. All we can tell you is this.” She paused. “There will come a point where you need to leap. Let go.”

  Isena pushed the three of them out the side of the house. “Follow the path, cross the bridge, and Decyl will lead you to the city.”

  Nadine arched a thin brow. “Who is Decyl? There is no route from No Man’s Land to the city.”

  The Elder responded, “You cannot miss Decyl. It is unwise to take the train for it is heavily occupied by guards. If your parents were taken by Nix, he likely suspects Xoey’s presence as he knows of the foretold future—his downfall by a white-haired child.”

  Xoey sighed. “I’m just a pirate. No need to get them in trouble.”

  Mal patted her shoulder. “Already involved, and we need to get to the city anyhow.”

  Behind them, they could hear fighting—the sound wood makes when it meets metal. Isena did not appear to be surprised. She handed Mal a hanging lantern. “Go now.”

  The three ran down the darkened path. The bitter sound of shots rang out far behind them. Nadine pointed to the driftwood bridge that did not appear safe by any standard. It creaked, groaned, and swayed in the slight wind. They huddled together, unsure as to who would be the fool to venture first. Xoey furrowed her brows. “I’m the smallest, so I’ll go first.”

  “Don’t look down,” Mal added. Xoey white-knuckled the coarse rope, and took one step, hoping to anyone that could read her fear that she would not fall to the great below. Beneath her, the wood creaked as she put her weight on it. She let out a sharp exhale as she took a step…and another.

  Mal stared wide-eyed as the pirate crossed to the other side. “Ladies first,” he told his sister. Nadine crossed over without incident, and so it was his turn. He took a deep breath, kept his chin parallel with the ground, avoiding the temptation to look down, and started across. The girls waved him over.

  From behind Mal, a voice chattered. “You’re not going to stick around all night, are ya?”

  An orange creature walked on his hind legs. Mal recognized him to be one of the infamous Under City gnomes, known the land over for their superior skill in crafting the finest weapons. He stood at about three feet tall, had large black eyes that merged with the pupil, long thin ears, reddish-orange fur, and a small thin mustache under a slender snout. The gnome twisted his mustache for emphasis as he walked past the boy. “The name is Decyl. The key is to keep moving. Wouldn’t want the lot of them behind us to catch up, now would we?”

  Xoey had never seen a gnome before. There was something irresistibly cute about the creature, and as much as she wanted to pet Decyl, she wasn’t sure how many teeth he had. Across his shoulders were holsters that held two guns and strapped to his back was a rather long copper rifle.

  Decyl rubbed his pot-belly. “We’ll head past the second wall.” Yorego had a second wall that joined the peninsula together. Once they crossed over the wall, there was a military port along the eastern seaport. To the north was No Man’s Land. To the west was the ocean channel. He continued, “Then sneak into the underwater transport.”

  Nadine crossed her arms across her chest. “I have never heard of an underwater transport, and likely it does not exist. Besides, Gnomes do not like to swim.”

  “Won’t be swimming,” Decyl added.

  “An underwater transport, like a submarine?” Mal inquired.

  Decyl shook his head. “Much more complex than a steel death trap.” He offered his hand to Xoey and pulled her along as the two siblings lingered behind. “Might want to put your hat back on.”

  She had forgotten it was in her hand, and quickly placed it back on her head.

  “Couple of things you should know,” he continued as they walked through the dense brush. “Piracy is forbidden by the laws of Nix. Seems as though your friends, the pirates that is, discove
red some illegal tampering Nix was doing to our sources of energy.” Xoey didn’t quite understand. He likely sensed her apprehension and explained, “Coal makes steam, and steam gives a source of energy to the city, weapons, and anything that isn’t covered in flesh…or fur.” He paused to ensure she understood. After she nodded, Decyl carried on. “Like so…” He unholstered the rifle. Upon closer inspection, she could see knobs on the sides—one for power and the other for range. His triangle nose twitched in, what appeared to be, anticipation. He gripped the gun, turned the knobs, and fired the shot. A thin rod, attached to a chain, blasted out of the barrel. The rod wedged into a thick tree. Decyl handed the rifle over to Xoey. “Now try to pull it out.”

  She huffed and puffed trying to pull the rod out of the tree, but it did not budge. With a clawed finger, he pushed a small button under the grip, and the chain coiled back in. When the sap-covered rod slid out, Decyl took the time to show her that the rod was, in fact, hinged. So that when it pierced an object, the tip of the rod split into an arrow, and then straightened out. Xoey wanted to cover her insides as it did not seem like a pleasant way to be hit.

  “Not to worry,” Decyl added. “We have cures for such injuries.” He placed a finger to his toothy grin.

  Nadine piped up, “It’s called Ichen Lager, a rare find as the Ichenberries only grow in Giant’s Pass, to the North West, far in the snowy hilltops. Some believe,” she pointed to Decyl, “that the lager can be replicated, and thus fake Ichen Lager is often found in Old Town. The results aren’t as potent.”