by Geonn Cannon
Time passed. She knew the sun had risen, but not how long it had been up or if it had actually risen multiple times since the last time she was awake. The thing that finally pulled her out of the fog was the intensity of the heat breaking when someone pressed a cold, wet cloth against her brow and cheeks. The chilled water rolled down over her face and finally prompted her eyes to flutter open and focus on her caretaker.
Cora smiled and relief flooded her features. “There you are. We were starting to get concerned.” She picked up a packet from her bag on the floor and offered it to Trafalgar with a cup of water. “Painkillers,” she said. “I found a great deal of them in your pack. Good planning, that.”
Trafalgar nodded and swallowed the pill. “How long...”
“Only a few hours,” Cora said. “The attack happened last night. How much do you remember?”
Trafalgar searched her memory, letting her attention drift past Cora to the canvas of the tent wall behind her. “I remember the ambush. There were three of them behind us. They had taken out Eiriz’s men who were bringing up the rear. Their plan was most likely to eliminate us quietly, one at a time.”
“Thankfully you were paying attention.”
“Hmm. I fought them off to the best of my ability. Shortly after the fire began, I started losing ground. Someone leveled the field by shooting one of my attackers.”
“That was me.”
Trafalgar found Cora’s hand to give it a squeeze. “Thank you.”
“I was doing what I could to give you and Dorothy the upper hand.”
“Where is Dorothy? The last I saw, she was nearly overrun.”
Cora looked away. “She’s... she wasn’t... I’m sorry, Trafalgar. I couldn’t risk going back for her. If I had, I might have gotten captured as well, and you needed help, and--”
“It’s all right,” Trafalgar said.
Cora blinked, but tears still gathered in her eyes. “So much for my grand return to exploration. Once again, I’ve left someone behind.”
“Dorothy would have done the same thing in your position. I’m surprised she wasn’t shouting for you to leave her behind.”
“She couldn’t have,” Cora said. “Last I saw, she was lying unconscious at the base of a tree. Those men were converging on her. I had to make a choice. I couldn’t fight them all, so I... I grabbed you and ran. I ran again.”
Trafalgar pushed herself up with some effort and put a hand on Cora’s shoulder. “I hope you don’t regret your choice. I certainly don’t. If our positions had been reversed, I’m sure Dorothy would have left me behind. I would have wanted her to. Two escaping capture is better than everyone being lost.” She furrowed her brow and looked toward the tent opening. “We did escape capture, correct? Where are we? Whose camp is this?”
Cora wiped at her cheeks. “I was waiting for the right moment to tell you.” She got off the bed, which Trafalgar could now see was a cot. It was low to the ground, and the canvas strained against its metal skeleton as she shifted her weight. Cora opened the tent flap and motioned someone to join them. “Eiriz and I managed to get away, but we were running blindly. Literally and figuratively. You have no idea how dark a forest can get. The fire behind us and the moon above provided a little light, but we quickly escaped its reach. I was certain we would never find our way back to the river, let alone civilization.”
“But you managed to find someone?”
“Someone managed to find us,” Cora said.
As if he’d been waiting for his cue, the tent flap opened and a man ducked inside. His skin was red and peeling from too much time in the sun. His hair was lighter than his beard for the same reason, but his eyes were bright and lively. He wore a lightweight shirt with the sleeves cut off above the elbows. He smiled when he saw she was awake, and he offered a hand.
“Miss Trafalgar.” He had an unexpectedly posh British accent. “It’s a delight to meet you at last. Your reputation in London made you out to be something of a legend, and Miss Hyde has spent the last few hours verifying them to be true.”
“You’re from London.”
Cora said, “Indeed he is. Miss Trafalgar, allow me to introduce you to Captain Felix Neville of the HMS Herald.”
Trafalgar blinked at him in surprise. Now she recognized him. In every photograph she’d seen of the missing captain, he had some sort of facial hair or another. This man was clean-shaven.
“You’re alive.”
Neville laughed. “Miss Hyde told me about the misconception. Not that I’m terribly surprised. I’ve been gone a very long time, and most of my men died in an ambush similar to the one you fell victim to. We had discovered the Pratear, and we were returning to the river when the tribe attacked. I was very badly injured. The people here found me. Tended my wounds, kept me alive. By the time I was stable enough to leave, my guides were long gone. I could have attempted finding my way back to Belém on my own, probably dying in the process, or I could stay here. Help my saviors and wait to see if anyone came looking for me.”
“Putting our lives in danger in the process.”
“I do apologize for that. The lives lost... I can never repay that debt. If there had been a way to send a message, to let anyone know where I was or the danger in coming after me, I would have sent it. But even after all the time I’ve spent here, I can’t even begin to tell you exactly where ‘here’ is.”
Trafalgar looked at Cora. “But you have some idea... right?”
Cora shook her head. “I know we’re within walking distance of the river. But in which direction, and exactly how far, I haven’t the foggiest.”
“We’re lost?”
Neville said, “The forest is a world unto itself. Even if you walked out of this village in the right direction and found a river, there’s no way to be sure it’s the same one that brought you in. There are hundreds of streams and branches and tributaries around here. Without a guide, you might just be walking yourselves in circles.”
Trafalgar searched for a response to that, but nothing came to mind. “That’s... not ideal...”
“I’ve been trying to map out the general area since I was well enough to move around. How long have I been here anyway?”
“About a year,” Cora said.
He hmphed. “Feels much longer. Are you feeling up for a tour? Miss Hyde has already been shown around. Met a few of the locals. They’re very interested in meeting you as well.”
Trafalgar pushed away the blankets. Cora obviously wanted to protest, but didn’t manage to find the words before Trafalgar had already put her feet on the floor.
“I think it would help my recovery to get up and walk around. I’m feeling... my head is not quite...” She started to stand but only made it into a crouch before she collapsed back onto the bed.
Cora muttered, “Bloody hell, I was worried about this.”
She saw Cora above her, and Neville leaning in with concern on his face, and then she saw nothing else.
#
Dorothy was seated in a chair. Cushioned, but uncomfortable. It was secured to the floor in some manner. Her wrists were strapped to the armrests. A firm-feeling strap stretched across her waist. Her feet were free, which would be good for kicking should the need arise, but she doubted she could get out of the chair without a good amount of assistance. Her head throbbed and she ached everywhere, which she took as a good sign that she wasn’t paralyzed or missing any parts.
She was confident enough that she was alone to risk opening her eyes, though she kept her chin down. There was another chair in front of her, and one to either side. Her first thought was that she was in a theater, but that didn’t make any sense. Lifting her head just a little, she could see more rows of chairs in front of her. There was no screen, but the seats were facing an oval wall with several smooth-edged holes that had once been doors or shelves. The ceiling was very low and curved. To her right was another empty hole that looked out on thick vegetation. A bug crawled up the wall, paused, and then vanished out through
the window.
Sunlight flooded over the seats from behind her like a sheet, and she could hear birdsong. So whatever this place might be, it was open to the elements.
“Well,” she whispered, just to break the silence and confirm she really was conscious.
Several minutes passed before she heard movement from behind her. She saw no reason to feign unconsciousness and turned her head to watch the man as he approached. He was darkly tanned, skinny to the point of emaciation, and his hair was cut close enough to his skull that his ears seemed to have been pasted to the side of a stone as a joke. He was bare-chested but wore a ragged pair of trousers caked to the knees with dry mud.
“Hello. Are the restraints too tight?”
“You’re free to loosen them as much as you like.”
He smiled and rested an elbow on the row of seats in front of her. His accent was American, which surprised her.
“I think we’ll leave them as-is, if that’s okay with you. What’s your name?”
“Where are my friends?”
“What’s your name?”
“Are they alive? Are you holding them prisoner as well?”
“You’re not a prisoner.” He seemed calm, unhurried. “What’s your name?”
“What’s your name?”
He put his hand against his chest. “Ketcham. What’s yours?”
She considered lying or withholding the information, but saw no benefit to either tactic. “You may call me Lady Boone.”
“Hah. We don’t do titles very much here. Well, not all of us. We’ll go with Boone, if that’s okay with you. As for your friends, to the best of my knowledge, at least a few of them are still alive. I think most of the men were killed.”
“And the women?”
“Ran off,” he said. “One of them looked unconscious, but the others were carrying her. But this isn’t exactly Piccadilly Circus, you know. Just because they were alive the last time I saw them doesn’t mean they’ve survived until now.”
Dorothy said, “How long has it been?”
“Most of a day. Why have you come?”
“We were looking for someone. An explorer who came into the forest a year ago and never came home.”
“Rescue or recovery?”
“Ideally, we hoped it would be rescue. But we’ve since learned that it was more likely to be a recovery mission. Our guide told us the men we came to find had been killed. I assume it happened in an ambush like the one we suffered. Am I correct? Are your people responsible for their deaths?”
Ketcham shrugged. “Perhaps. Sometimes we have to dissuade trespassers.”
Dorothy said, “So why did you save me?”
“That is an excellent question.” He looked past her and Dorothy could hear someone else walking down the aisle toward them. “And I believe it’s one best answered by our leader.”
She twisted her neck again and saw a man she recognized despite the darkening of his skin and the lightening of his hair due spending too much time in the sun. His beard was thicker than it had been in the photographs she’d seen, but there was no doubting his identity.
“Captain Neville,” she said. “You’re alive.”
“Indeed I am,” he said. “And you came to rescue me?”
Dorothy was stunned and almost stuttered when she answered. “Yes, that’s... that was the plan.”
Neville sighed and looked at Ketcham. “That may prove more complicated than you expected. Something has gone very wrong in this jungle, Lady Boone, and I fear I’m to blame. And if I’m not stopped, I fear I shall be the cause of a catastrophe so immense it could change the planet.”
“Sorry,” Dorothy said, “if you’re not stopped...?”
He sighed. “I’m not the only Felix Neville in this forest, Lady Boone. One of us did something to cause widespread damage and one of us is trying to prevent it from spreading to the rest of the world.”
“And which one are you?”
Neville looked hopeless. “All of this would be so much easier if I knew the answer to that question, my dear.”
Chapter Eight
The aches had only intensified when Trafalgar regained consciousness. She groaned and put a hand to her forehead. It was darker now, closer to nightfall, and she resigned herself to the knowledge she had lost an entire day. Cora appeared at her side again.
“Don’t strain yourself,” she said. “Captain Neville says you’ve probably contracted a bug. Now that you’re awake, he can administer some medicine. It’s most likely an infection from one of your wounds.”
Trafalgar grunted and closed her eyes. “Has there been any sign of Dorothy?”
“I’m afraid not. To be honest, no one is looking. The forest is treacherous, and the attack on us is proof that the locals are out and causing trouble. The tribe hosting us is unwilling to risk their safety to look for Dorothy because they believe it’s highly unlikely she survived the attack.”
“This is Dorothy Boone we’re talking about.”
Cora said, “I know. But Felix has told me about the tribe who attacked us. They’re vicious. They don’t leave survivors. Maybe it would be best for him to explain everything himself. Things are very complicated here.”
“Did he find the Pratear?”
“Yes,” Cora said, but the way she averted her gaze indicated there was much more to the story. “Rest. There will be plenty of time to explain things later.”
“You can explain it now,” Trafalgar said. “I might as well get the information while I’m lying here doing nothing.”
Cora said, “You’re healing.”
Trafalgar said, “When I am back on my feet, I won’t have time to hear a long story about what’s going on. Please, indulge me.”
“Fine.” Cora sighed. “We’re in a village of the Urubi, the people who saved Felix. They call the people who attacked us children of the Burnt Empire.”
“Ominous,” Trafalgar said.
“You haven’t heard the ominous part yet. According to the Urubi elders, the Burnt Empire didn’t exist before a year ago. But the younger Urubi insist the Burnt Empire has been around for at least several centuries.”
Trafalgar said, “The elders don’t remember the other tribe? Perhaps a problem with their memories, or...”
“No,” Cora said, “the ignorance is too widespread for that. They came to the conclusion that the Burnt Empire, along with all its history, came into existence all at once less than a year ago.”
“You believe it’s fabricated?”
Cora glanced toward the tent flap. “Felix explains it better. He believes something happened with time when he found the Pratear. He thinks the discovery caused something with affected the past in such a way that a new, aggressive tribe was created. It explains why his team was attacked on their way out of the forest rather than when they arrived. The Burnt Empire didn’t exist at that point in time.”
Trafalgar pushed herself up on her elbows, even though the movement made her head swim. “You believe he changed the course of history? That’s impossible.”
“He believes it. The Urubi believe it. And more importantly, the evidence seems to support his claim. Settlements exist. There is evidence of long-term habitation in areas where the elders claim there shouldn’t be anything.”
“So what’s the explanation? Neville retroactively changed the course of history?”
Cora shrugged. “He’s been a little cagey on that aspect of it, but it seems to be the case. He believes something he did or will do affects the past in a way that the present changed.”
Trafalgar thought about that. If Ignacio could “remember” the future, perhaps time wasn’t as linear as people liked to believe. And if that was true, any number of things could be possible.
“So what is his plan?”
“The Burnt Empire is savage. Cruel. Felix thinks that there is a way to fix what he changed, undo whatever caused them to be created, and return history to the way it was before he showed up. The alterative would be
allowing them to run wild and dominate this entire area. The Urubi will most likely be the next victims if we let that happen.”
Trafalgar raised an eyebrow. “It’s ‘we’ now?”
Cora smiled shyly. “Captain Neville is quite charming. And he hasn’t spent time with a woman from home for ages. He’s a bit overbearing.”
“Charming or overbearing, Miss Hyde,” Trafalgar teased. “One or the other, or it will be clear that you’re protesting too much.”
“Oh hush.” Cora checked Trafalgar’s forehead and reached for the wet washcloth. “You’re feverish. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Trafalgar smiled and allowed the sweat to be blotted from her skin. “You don’t truly believe Lady Boone is dead, do you?”
Cora’s hand paused. “I don’t know. On the one hand, of course I hope she’s alive. She’s very resourceful... when she’s uninjured and conscious. But that was not the case when last I saw her. And if she is still alive, then she’s a prisoner of the Burnt Empire suffering unimaginable tortures. So if you want my honest opinion of what my hopes are, I don’t think either option is preferable.”
Trafalgar pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, unwilling to hope Dorothy had died quickly but equally unwilling to wish for her suffering. She reluctantly admitted Cora was right: for Dorothy Boone, there was simply no preferable outcome to their current situation.
#
“Mango?”
Dorothy looked up to see Captain Neville offering her a quartered globe, the pinkish flesh glistening in the dim sunlight washing through the hole behind her. She was famished but wary of accepting anything this man or any of his followers offered.
“It will be difficult to eat with my hands bound like this.”
“I could feed you.”
She made a face. “I believe I shall pass on that experience, thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” He took a bite and sat down in one of the chairs across the aisle from her. Dorothy found it peculiar that every chair in every row was facing the same direction. There was no space at the front of this narrow tube for a screen or a stage. Neville was chewing loudly, disgustingly, and Dorothy was about to snap at him when he spoke. “I’m aware of your reputation, Lady Boone. I know you have... a high moral standing. And I suppose if I want your help, I have to be more forthcoming. I have to tell you what’s going on.”
