Liam threw his hands in the air. Dian wasn’t exactly following the exchange, but he could guess a few things from observation. They had a history, a familiarity, and they were—for some reason—separate from the rest of the crew.
The woman looked at Dian, pausing like she had just realized he was there. Her skin was a warm, tawny brown in stark contrast with her long, white-blonde hair. Her full lips were curved into a smirk that made him uneasy. Under her large coat she wore a fraying corset, the front torn in several places and a satchel was strapped to her hip. Dian studied her to diverging conclusions. She was not as disciplined as Liam. Her movements were lax and erratic, though she did carry herself with confidence. There was an easy grace to her that could be a tactical misconception or she was just an easy-going person. Once she set her eyes on him, her gait turned to a saunter and the line of her shoulders shifted.
“So. You did bring a soldier on board,” she said, voice silky. She drew her gaze down his front.
“Jade.” Liam’s tone carried long suffered warning. It was the most emotion he’d displayed.
She pursed her lips at him, whipping her head around and scolding, “Captain. I’m still Captain Avaris until they officially vote me out.”
A tremor of panic raced through Dian. “You are the captain?”
Jade smirked, still ogling him. She wasn’t shy. “I am,” she said, “You were expecting someone with more testosterone?”
The woman’s grin was crooked, impish and her unabashed staring never wavered from his face. He pried his eyes away so he could focus. “What’s the name of this ship? This is the Maiden’s Last?”
She moved closer to the bars, leaning into them as she answered in a tone he couldn’t identify, “This is most certainly the Maiden’s Last. Formerly under the command of Markos Shepard. Until...very recently.” She captured and held his attention with her affirmation. Dian distantly registered his relief while curiously entranced by the vivid green of her eyes.
“Jade.” Liam’s voice was a low hiss, scolding. She waved him away without turning. Her face was expressive, readable even by someone like him—Dian could read battle, intent, or a situation about to turn hostile. Rarely emotion or the cues and subtleties of personal interaction—but her hungry expression seemed, to him, misplaced.
Liam physically pulled her back.
“Right! Anyway, the crew is set on killing us and so I ducked out and snuck my way here.” Jade started to free her arms from her coat. “Which reminds me, they got in a good shot before I managed to get away. This corset’s ruined.” She carefully, gingerly folded the coat and swapped it for a new corset from her satchel.
The ship suddenly erupted with sound. Alarms blared, echoing in a shrill tone, red spheres strobing. Dian clenched his teeth against the initial shock, then the alarm faded into a dull, pulsing chime.
“Is that for us—” Jade was interrupted by the sudden jarring of the entire ship, each of them reaching for the bars of a cell to keep balance.
“I don’t think it is,” Liam confirmed.
Dian searched the ceiling, listening for sounds to indicate what was happening, and when he looked down again Jade was stripping.
She tossed her torn top aside while she fumbled with a fresh one. She was nothing but bare skin from the waist up.
His jaw slackened. He wasn’t the ogling sort, but was too caught-off guard to not see curves of brown skin, rounded hips, the contours of her—
Dian’s eyes snapped shut. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—” He rubbed shaky fingers over his forehead, “I apologize for staring.”
“You’re blushing. I’m flattered.” Her voice was laced with inappropriate humor.
He stammered something unintelligible then turned his back on her. He rubbed his hands over his face. That was a terrible overreaction. Jesiah would have had a good laugh at him. Stammering like he was twelve and had never seen a naked woman before. Dian crossed his arms and tried to think away the lingering image of her. ‘Meria, how long had it been since he’d seen a woman outside of a uniform?
“You can turn around now,” she said with casual ease. When he turned she was fully dressed and fluffing her hair out from the collar of an incredibly short jacket. The coat was tucked neatly into her satchel. She stood straight, sighing happily, then she pointed to the warning sphere still pulsing red. “This yours?”
Dian shook his head with confusion, not clear on what she was asking.
“The Legion. Your back-up, obviously I’m asking if that’s the cause of the alarm. Cause that would be fantastic if it was.”
“It’s not the Legion,” Dian clarified, “They wouldn’t fight a ship mid-air.” Jade lost a bit of her ease, her smile falling.
“Then who the fuck’s attacking us?” Jade asked, staring at the light with a squinting frown.
“I don’t know, but I have a few guesses,” Dian answered, “The most likely is...not good.”
“What’s the most likely?”
“Free Chanters. They recruit from airships like this all the time. I wouldn’t be surprised if they did so while airborne.”
Jade sighed. “Chanters. Fan-fucking-tastic.”
CHAPTER FOUR
WHO’S CAPTURING WHO HERE?
1
It was impossible to think with that obnoxious red warning light constantly rotating in and out of Jade’s peripheral vision. If the Legion wasn't the cause of its warning, that didn't leave any welcome alternatives. This was a problem.
"And...you're really sure it's not your backup arriving ahead of schedule?" A prompt glare was her answer. So that ended that. There was a new threat to deal with on top of the horde of really pissed off pirates already standing between her and sweet incarceration. Why would Free Chanters recruit mid-air? Surely they would have a more persuasive effect on the ground and not...attacking. Her knowledge of in-flight battles was limited. Harrowind didn't have airships. Both on principle and on a lack of being able to afford them.
"What now, then?" Liam was scowling, arms folded in that superior condescending way he knew she hated. But where were his brilliant ideas?
The prisoner was watching from his cell. His outcome in this depended on Jade, but, and he wouldn't know this, so did her outcome depend on him. Luckily for him, her plans needed him alive and-mostly-unharmed. He wasn't going to make this easy for her, though. She could tell. For one, he was a distraction. He was too easily riled and she had a weakness for instigation. Two, she couldn't broadcast her plans to him without compromising her desired outcome. Three, he was fine as hell. And four—that light needed to go.
Jade drew her revolver and fired at the crimson sphere. "Ah," she holstered it as dull, lifeless crystals sprinkled the floor, "Much better."
"Will you stop wasting shots?" Liam snapped, on cue, every time she spent the enchantment foolishly. Enchantments drained of their properties over time, eventually her fancy revolver would be worthless to inflict more than blunt trauma.
The vibration of projectiles pinging off the outer hull forced Jade to decide on a plan. She approached the cell, fingers wrapping around the cold bars while she leaned as close as she dared. "Here're your options, Brown-eyes. One, we leave you here, at the mercy of the victors. Neither outcome of that sounds agreeable," she paused for effect, rewarded with some well-timed gunfire to give her ultimatum the punch it needed, "Two, I let you out and you, grateful, work with my friend and me on staying alive until your buddies show up. What'll it be, chief?"
The airship swayed. Jade clutched harder on the bars to keep her balance. Then a piercing, horrible screech echoed briefly throughout the ship.
"That wasn't a good sound," Jade commented. Whoever was outside was soon to be inside. "Times, up. Stay or go?"
The soldier was at least a head taller than her, so that she was looking up into his face. The crisp, pine scent of him was strong this close and put her in mind of a scene with snow-covered branches and evergreen mountains.
"You knew," was his res
ponse. His eyes narrowed on her, studying her. "You knew this was a trap."
Jade sensed Liam's impatience while their conversation hovered close to impractical given the situation. She flashed a brilliant smile. “In or out, soldier? Last chance.”
He took another moment, his frown serious, as if this choice wasn’t obvious. Jade found her lips quirking, a part of her wanting to rile him up even if it was a bad idea. It would have been so easy to let time slip away until they were all captured. Then the wall exploded.
Jade was thrown sideways. Instinct had her grab for her ears at the awful grinding, screech of tearing metal. The outer wall of the ship was breached. A spear had landed at their feet, a cord twining back out from the hole it made. She stared without blinking, as if the spear might do a trick.
Which, to her amusement, it sort of did. The sides of the spear sprang outward so that there was no amount of lube that would force it out the same opening. The cord attached to its end began to retract and the pronged spear was dragged along the wet floor, up the wall, and back to the entrance it had created.
“Liam, the keys. Now.” He tossed them to her. Then he backed away as the wall with the spear began to fold under the strain. Jade fit the key in the lock of the cell. “Time’s up. I’ve decided you’re coming.”
Then the wall began to groan from the stress. Creases formed in the metal. Screws popped out of place and ricocheted. Jade threw open the cell, grabbed the Legionnaire, and hauled him forward. They hadn’t quite made it out of the brig when the outer wall caved in and a jagged, gnarled piece was torn from the ship and disappeared into the darkening sky.
Air whooshed outward, sucking them toward the opening in a vortex of howling wind. The noise was terrible. Jade’s hair was flying wild, into her face and eyes. Her hands gripped the only handhold in reach and she hauled her body toward the door. Behind her, the Legionnaire moved with determined speed. His hand caught the small of her back and he pushed her out of the brig. Jade hadn’t a chance to turn around before he followed her and slammed the door closed. His back hit the door and he sank down, breathing in short, gasping spasms.
The wind was muffled now. Above, the sounds of a fierce battle drifted down. It was hard to know who was winning. It was likely this wasn’t the only breached point on the ship. The best option was to avoid the fight entirely.
Which meant not being seen... Jade scanned the trails of Glint along the passageway. She followed the glowing line with her finger to the nearest sphere. “Knife me,” she said, holding out her hand. Liam placed one of his knives in her palm and she jammed the blade into the wall. She dragged the knife downward, severing the lines of Glint running to the spheres. One by one, the lights drained of power and died.
“Now then, boys, I think our best option is going to be to lay low and sneak our way out of here.” She returned Liam’s knife as she spoke to the Legionnaire. “I assume there is back-up tailing us, so how long before they get here?”
His nostrils flared a bit, his expression severe and possibly annoyed. “I don’t know. They won’t intervene until they notice the attack. They could be on their way right now or still miles behind us, unaware.”
“Let’s hope the gaping hole tips them off, then.” She clapped her hands together. “So we’re going to stick together and, if we get through this, I want you to remember who was on your side. You can even say you captured the feared Captain of the Maiden’s Last.”
“Captain Shepard was the feared captain,” he said, as if she were second best to that boozy womanizer.
“Listen, pal, I could have just left you to rot—” Liam shoved her side and Jade took a calming breath, then added, “The idea is that we all stay alive while we wait out Mr. Killjoy’s buddies. Our best chance to meet up with them is by getting topside. Now then. Anyone know how to get there?”
The Legionnaire’s jaw fell open. “How did you become captain if you don’t know the layout of your own ship?”
Jade crossed her arms. “For your information, I got this job by promising sex to its previous captain, then drugging him and telling his crew he gambled the ship over to me. ‘Meria, does it even matter right now?”
“It does if you don’t know where you’re going,” Liam said and she shot him a cold look of betrayal.
The soldier ran a hand through his neat haircut. “This is an Empire Class, which is what we use in the Legion. The layouts won’t be exactly the same, but comparable. I could get us to the upper decks.” He shook his head, as if he had a lecture but not the time to deliver it.
“Why didn’t you start with that? Lead the way, Brown-Eyes.”
He hesitated before walking. “Don’t call me that.”
“‘Sexy’ work better for you?” She asked with a skip, the corner of her lip rising with his obvious aggravation.
“Dian is fine.”
“You certainly are.” She winked. He closed his mouth firmly and marched ahead of her.
2
Dian kept to the shadows as he led them toward the ship’s upper decks. Even a ship this small had at least three levels, all of them filled with either angry pirates or whoever was attacking those pirates. The trick would be getting there undetected, which he didn’t think was likely. A crew of the size needed for this ship would be nearly impossible to avoid, add in all the extra bodies and the chaos of unknowns. Dian’s mission had gone from carefully planned to utter wreck.
He kept his eye out for his companions, wary of their intentions. Liam had been acting strangely enough, but his friend was outright confounding. The two of them had some sort of scheme. Until he figured it out, he would always assume that he was expendable in that plan.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Liam’s voice was a whisper, but it carried. He didn’t intend for Dian to hear. “And don’t. Stop looking at him like that.”
“You’re so dramatic. I’m just looking,” was her off-hand response.
Dian stopped trying to eavesdrop and forget what he overheard.
In trying to ignore their conversation, Dian nearly missed the approach of several enemies. They were in a rush, steps hurried and loud, and Dian held up a closed fist as a signal to stop—
Jade ran into the back of him, nearly sending them both to the floor. He grabbed her shoulders and walked her through the next open doorway. Liam was just behind and all three pressed into the wall near the door to avoid detection. Dian waited for the footsteps to recede while attempting to hear what was being said as they passed. He still held Jade, not realizing how close he was until she nuzzled into his shoulder. She cooed softly.
Dian let go, moving her to arm’s length before returning to hover near the door. From what he could hear, Free Chanters had boarded the ship and any pirate not fighting was occupied trying to keep the ship in the sky. His stomach did not like the sound of that. He clasped his hand over his mouth. Easy. Easy. Breathe.
He turned to his companions, avoiding any eye contact with Jade. “Free Chanters are recruiting all the Chanters on this ship. Which is a welcome distraction for the pirates and means it’s likely my unit will be on their way to intercept.”
“And this recruiting process, how do they know if you’re a Chanter? They just ask?” Jade started to twirl the end of a short braid near her ear.
“I assume they test everyone, throw some Glint at them and see what happens,” Dian paused, her eyes were suddenly off-focus, her lips drawn. Fear. Emotion played over her features like a song, one he found shockingly easy to follow, “It doesn’t matter how they do it, our goal is to avoid them entirely. Okay?”
Her smile returned, though it was clear the effort was half-hearted.
They continued to sneak through the lower decks of the ship until they reached a ladder. They took turns climbing to the second deck. The cabins were positioned in the center with long passageways running up and down each side. Walking down any one of the passageways was dangerous with such a clear line-of-sight.
Dian directed them into the
cabins. The first was clearly the wardroom. High ranked officers were supposed to dine here, though at the moment it was empty. The room was a wide “L” shape. Their end of the “L” had only one entrance, but the opposite side had two. Rows of bolted-down tables provided the illusion of cover. Then a voice filled the room—a woman’s throaty drawl.
It echoed, sounding as if it came from everywhere on the ship at once, and delivered the command to begin sweeping the ship for stragglers.
Dian motioned to duck as a lone figure entered from the farther side of the cabin. He was slight of build, not physically threatening, though his warm ochre skin caught the light at harsh angles so that shadow lent a haunted darkness to his eyes and made him look fiercer. The black tendril patterns of tattoos broke the edge of his collar and the shaved sides of his scalp contrasted his knitted, over-large sweater. Except for his clothes, he gave off the vibes of someone who fancied themselves too deep for society and hated his parents. Dian had known a few like him in college, even a military university had its rebels.
Crouched behind a table Dian caught Jade’s eye and mouthed, “Is he one of yours?”
Jade shrugged.
Dian wanted to slap his forehead. How did she not even know her own crew? His frustration would have to wait. The man’s lazy gaze swept the room and he was about to turn and leave when someone entered from their side of the room. Jade may not know her crew, but this was a face Dian wouldn’t soon forget. Elix, the hostile pirate who wanted Dian dead, was spotted instantly.
The man in the sweater lifted his hand and his fingers twisted in quick patterns, flexing at the wrist, and one of the many tables began to glow. The bolts holding it in place were ripped free. Then, hovering, the table began to fold inward, warping like a hand would crinkle paper into a tiny ball, except with steel. It happened much faster than was reasonable. In seconds the material had been reshaped into a metal half-circle.
Dian had seen Chanters at work, but they had always needed to touch the object they were enchanting. He watched the man’s fingers dance and the reformed table surged forward, trapping Elix against one of the walls before anyone could think to react. The man then stepped forward and stood in front of Elix, whose face was twisted with such fierce hatred that the Chanter’s cool demeanor seemed out of place. Elix wasn’t little, either, unlike the Chanter. Elix was thickly built and tall, his beard and face naturally threatening. But this wasn’t really a fight. Elix had already lost.
Catalyst (The Second Cycle Book 1) Page 5
