Space Pirate Charlie: The Dragon Mage Book 2

by Scott Baron

  “Yes, I have. But that was a long, long time ago, and quite far away,” he said, a distant look in his eye. “How did you acquire him? If I may ask. And where?”

  “A few systems back, in a backwater town. From what I could tell, it was probably the lone survivor of a litter from an animal someone trapped on some world then didn’t know how to care for.”

  “So you saved him,” Marban said, tenderly petting Baloo as he latched onto the bottle Leila had prepared for him.

  “We saved each other,” she replied.

  The way she looked at the animal, he could tell it was true, in the emotional sense, if not the physical.

  “You’ve done a good thing, Leila. And he will be with you for life.”

  Charlie had watched the conversation with interest. “Hey, Marban. It seems like you know an awful lot about our little mystery friend. What exactly is he?”

  “A Beringian, if I’m not mistaken. A very rare breed used to protect the families of powerful men when they were away from home. Loyal, smart, intuitive––there was a saying once. ‘Strike a child guarded by a Beringian with your least-favorite hand, for you will never be seeing it again.’”

  “I like this saying,” Bawb said with a laugh. “And given the size of our little friend’s paws, I think he will grow to formidable size, indeed.”

  “And possess bone-crushing jaw strength,” Marban added.

  “You hear that, Baloo? You’re going to be big and strong,” Leila said, snuggling her nose in the squirming furball’s neck and smothering him with kisses.

  Marban smiled warmly as he watched his new friend. “Charlie, a word, please,” he said, then walked into the woods.

  “Back in a minute,” Charlie said, then followed.

  Marban was waiting for him just out of earshot of the feasting pirates. An odd look was on his face. One Charlie had never seen on his scarred visage before. It was a look of concern.

  “You’re really going to go to the Balamar Wastelands?”

  “Yep.”

  “You realize nothing lives there.”

  “I know, but my ship should still be there. At least, what’s left of it. But if the inner compartments stayed shut, the gear I need should still be intact, and hopefully salvageable. And if the guidance systems can be accessed, I may even be able to figure out if there’s a way home.”

  “A wise course of action. But tell me, if you do manage to get those collars off without the aid of the visla’s spell, do you honestly think you and your Wampeh friend stand a chance against him? Against the Council of Twenty?”

  “Well, we’ll just have to see about that. If it stops a systems-wide war, it’s worth the risk. And besides, I mean, we do have a Zomoki on our side.”

  “Yes, but she is old, Charlie. Sure, she’ll be a great ally, for a time, but her scales are dry and flat. I’m afraid she’s simply past her prime.”

  “I’ll take her past her prime any day. She’s my friend, and trust me, there’s more to her than meets the eye.”

  Marban’s concern did not seem abated.

  “Look,” Charlie continued, “if things get bad, we’ll just jump away. Bob isn’t stupid, and he sure as hell isn’t suicidal. If we can’t win, we’ll run.”

  A long silence hung in the air.

  “Very well, little brother,” Marban said warmly. “You have grown into quite a fighter, and I admire your spirit. I only hope you survive this quest of yours. I would very much like to hear tales of your adventure as we drink to each other’s health in our old age.”

  “Time will tell, my friend.”

  “Yes, that it will.”

  Marban and his men left a short time later, the pirates leaving no trace of their presence anywhere to be seen. Besides the destroyed trees, that is. But if one of the Council’s members were to scout out the location, all they’d find would be a well-trodden campsite and a Zomoki-sized divot in the soil.

  “You guys ready?” Charlie asked as they sat atop Ara’s back, swaddled in blankets, their meager gear strapped to the mighty dragon.

  “As ready as one can be, I suppose,” Leila said, holding Baloo tight.

  “Okay, then. Ara, take us to the Wastelands.”

  The Zomoki flapped her great wings and soared high into the sky. Then, in a blink, she was gone.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  The smell of lush, damp forest hit Charlie in the face like a water balloon of aromas as soon as Ara popped into being just above the verdant wild lands of the planet’s surface.

  “Are you sure this is it?” Leila asked.

  “Of course,” Ara replied. The jump had been a success, the Zomoki’s casting never once in doubt.

  She was old, and with age came knowledge. With knowledge came a certain degree of skill. That, and she had been to so many worlds in her many years, that she was quite proficient in traveling between them, though she typically preferred more leisurely––and less draining––means.

  She swooped low, flapping her great wings hard as she settled into a small clearing among the trees. Using that much magic always took its toll on her, but for simpler things, like flight and basic magic, she’d recover in under an hour.

  “My God,” Leila gasped as she slid from her back onto the ground. “It’s so green!”

  Baloo wiggled from her grip and galloped away, making it several steps before tripping over his own oversize feet.

  “Reminds me of a Great Dane,” Charlie said.

  “Is this a form of royalty where you are from?” Bawb asked.

  “No, nothing like that. It’s a kind of dog. Enormous goofballs who have absolutely no idea how big they are. When they’re puppies, they trip over themselves constantly. A friend used to rescue them, so I’ve spent a fair bit of time around the silly critters.”

  “They sound like an amusing, if not terribly logical, breed,” Bawb said, taking in their surroundings, ears straining, listening for any sound of danger.

  “We are safe here,” Ara informed them, sniffing the air deeply. “Our arrival appears to have gone unnoted.”

  Charlie took in the area around them. Trees loomed overhead, providing them shade and cover, and the general feel to the area was that of a bountiful woodland. He knew Ara would need a brief respite before she could push on.

  “Let’s see what sort of edibles we can find,” he said, slinging an empty bag over his shoulder. “We’ve got dried goods from Marban, but we should load up on what we are able and save those if we can. Ara, you good here?”

  “Yes, Charlie, I’ll be fine,” she said, curling up in a warm patch of the orange sunlight. “You go on. I’m just going to rest a bit before we continue.”

  “I’ll be quick,” he silently told her.

  “Take your time. You should enjoy this place while you can. Soon enough we will be in quite a different environment.”

  Baloo had already been trussed up in a makeshift lead, and Leila was letting the curious pup waddle into the woods, sniffing everything as he went. Despite his diminutive size and youth, the animal was already showing signs of being quite an adventurous critter. It seemed that even just a few meals of the nutritious Boramus milk Leila had procured had given him an enormous boost in strength.

  “Come on, Baloo,” Leila said in a sing-song voice, gently tugging the lead tied to her furry friend.

  “Awoooo,” he replied at the sound of his name, trotting to his new mom on unsteady young legs, then flopping down at her feet.

  She picked him up and hugged him close to her chest.

  “Okay, buddy, let’s give you a little break,” she said, cradling him as she increased her stride, moving deep into the forest. “See you all back here shortly,” she called out behind her, then was gone.

  Having been raised by the groundskeeper, and having had all of Visla Maktan’s lands to explore as she grew up, Leila was a totally different woman once she was back in nature. Cities she could deal with, but it was in the wild that she was truly at home.

  B
awb had already disappeared into the flora, but that didn’t surprise Charlie. It was an interesting sensation, realizing that a deadly assassin––one who could likely kill him without much effort, and despite his gladiatorial skills, no less––was out there, silently moving among the trees.

  Charlie was just glad the Geist was on his side. At least, he was pretty sure he was. One thing he was sure of was his safety for the time being, anyway. The Wampeh’s reverence for Ara, and his sense of honor, would prevent him from doing anything to draw her ire.

  Well, I guess that leaves me to my own devices for a bit. Time to wander the woods and try to not pick poisonous mushrooms.

  He picked a direction and stepped into the woods, hopeful he’d return with something edible, and maybe even some fresh water if they were lucky. They were well-stocked as it was, but there was an odd taste to the containers they had filled on the last planet, as if the depression and mood somehow worked its way into the water table itself.

  The muted red of the dragon’s scales looked even more like dried blood in the orange light of the dual-star system’s suns. Her golden eyes, however, shone bright, quick to focus on a seemingly empty patch of air across the clearing.

  “Hello, Geist,” she said.

  A moment of silence. Then the Wampeh lowered his spell, slipping into the visible spectrum.

  “Your senses are quite sharp,” he commented, pulling several small animals from his carry sack. “I even went so far as to cast a muting spell to hide the smell of myself and my catch.”

  She let out a low chuckle. “Oh, my dear Wampeh, you do not get to reach my age without learning a few tricks of your own.”

  Bawb smiled, the genuine amusement reaching all the way to his eyes, for a change. “I thought you might enjoy some nourishment without having to hunt, Wise One,” he said. “I hope these are to your liking.”

  “Why, thank you, Geist. That is most considerate of you.”

  “You’ve borne us on your back across many systems. I think this is the very least I can do.”

  Ara puffed a tiny jet of flame, roasting the carcasses before snatching them up in her enormous jaws in a single bite. “Delicious,” she said. “And most appreciated.”

  “And how are you feeling? Is your energy returning?”

  “I feel quite well, actually. The rays of this system’s suns have always been particularly restorative.”

  “Ah, so you’ve been to this system before?”

  “Yes. But that was a long, long time ago,” she said, falling quiet, a note of distant sadness in her eyes.

  The pale man sat down quietly beside her and picked a handful of berries from a pouch on his hip, eating them silently. Together, the unlikely pair of a Wampeh and a Zomoki breathed the fresh air, soaked up the sun, and listened to the wind.

  At least fifteen minutes of tranquil silence had gone by when Leila could be heard drawing near.

  “Baloo, come back here!”

  Both Ara and Bawb smiled. The antics of the little beast were proving a welcome bit of amusement.

  “Leila, how was your expedition?” Ara asked as she entered the small clearing. “Any luck?”

  “I found some edibles, but not as much as I’d have liked.”

  “Here,” Bawb said, tossing his pouch to her. “It seems I had better luck than you.”

  Leila popped a few of the deep purple berries in her mouth, savoring the sweet and tangy explosions of flavor on her tongue. “Mm, thanks, Bawb.”

  “It is my pleasure.”

  “You save any for me?” Charlie asked, striding into view from the far thicket.

  “Of course,” she replied, handing him the pouch.

  He took a few berries from the cache and handed the rest back to her. “So, I didn’t find much in the way of normal food,” he informed them.

  “None of us did, though Bawb did forage these for us.”

  “But,” he added, “I did find a rather large growth of these.”

  He removed a modest-sized sack from within his larger collection bag and opened it for the others to see.

  “Tsokin berries?” Bawb asked, puzzled. “But these have a notoriously bland flavor, and not much in the way of nutritional value.”

  Charlie grinned, knowingly. “Perhaps, my pointy-toothed friend. But just wait and see what I do to them.”

  “You make that sound so nefarious,” Ara said. “Just tell him.”

  “These are what I make the coffee from,” he clarified for his Wampeh friend.

  Bawb’s eyes widened. He had most certainly experienced the benefits of Charlie’s bitter brew, his powers crackling with newfound vigor after a few mere sips.

  “Well, then. This is a good turn of events,” he said. “But it is getting later in the day. Perhaps we should set up camp for the night and push on in the morning.”

  Ara stretched her wings as the red sun grew lower in the sky. “No, we shall finish our journey before nightfall. Charlie has assured me there is ample shelter for you at the site of his crashed ship. As for me, the night air will do me no harm.”

  “Then let’s get to it,” Charlie said, tucking his supplies into the open storage containers and climbing atop Ara’s back.

  The others joined him, Baloo cozily swaddled in a bundle against Leila’s chest. Ara flapped her mighty wings, and they lunged into the sky, quickly leveling out over the treetops as they flew toward the setting suns.

  The red one was nearly below the horizon, and the orange color of the land was shifting toward yellow, which would last until the second sun followed its twin into the night.

  It felt strange, seeing those first alien suns any human had ever beheld firsthand once more. Three years had passed since his arrival in this galaxy, and Charlie was a completely different man, but the memories of those initial days returned to his mind, fresh and sharp as they flew.

  Ahead, the lush greenery abruptly shifted to red and brown soil as far as the eye could see.

  The Balamar Wastelands, he noted. Never thought I’d see this place again.

  The twin suns and their shifting spectrum as the darker of the two set was an unusual, yet familiar sight. Ara swooped low over the treetops and crossed the edge of the wastelands. The air immediately became warm and dry, and it was due to more than just leaving the wooded area. A mighty casting had created the Balamar Wastelands all of those centuries ago, and traces of its magic still lingered to this day.

  Little cairns of stone dotted the landscape periodically. Ruins, Charlie now knew, of what had once been a fantastic realm, reduced to rubble in one horrible instant. A little smile tickled the edges of his lips. Beneath one of them, he knew, was something people had killed for. Something thought lost. And something he alone knew the location of.

  Hot damn, he thought as they flew deeper into the wasteland. I’m back.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  “You flew in that?” Bawb asked in disbelief. “In space, no less?”

  Ara banked low and circled the half-buried wreck of Charlie’s ship, the crash landing trench gouged in the soil and scattered debris trail long lost to the sand and winds. Dropping lower, she flapped her wings powerfully, kicking up the long-silent soil as she settled down beside the vessel.

  “It didn’t always look like that,” Charlie replied, sliding from the Zomoki’s back. “And remember, we crashed here. This wasn’t some picture-perfect landing.”

  His boots made little puffs of red dust when they hit the soil.

  Son of a bitch, I’m really here.

  He walked up to the long-silent remnant of his former life and reached out to touch its wind-buffeted skin. The ship had actually held up quite well, given the environment. Its hull had weathered the elements and seemed no worse for it, aside from a layer of dust covering everything. Charlie wondered if the interior had fared as well.

  Leila joined him, Baloo tucked against her chest, blissfully asleep, as puppies are wont to do. Her eyes played across the foreign shapes and materials of
the craft, trying to make sense of this tech-magic that was so different from any she had ever known.

  “How did you ever survive this landing? And in this?”

  “It’s sturdier than it looks, and the power systems were the most state-of-the-art ever made.”

  “And you say this was not powered by Drooks,” Bawb said, stroking the stored Drook power rod in his armlet.

  “No, I told you, we use a fission reactor to create power. And if we’re lucky, the core is still functional enough to direct a charge to the plasma cutter. With that bad boy running, it should be relatively short work cutting our collars off.”

  “Well then, I suppose we should get to work,” Bawb said, helping unload their gear from Ara’s load-bearing harness.

  “Not tonight,” Charlie said, eyeing the setting red sun. “The yellow one will drop below the horizon in less than an hour if memory serves, and it could be dark inside. No idea if the emergency lighting I jury-rigged is still functional at all. But with all the little holes in the hull, daylight will at least provide us a bit of ambient light.”

  “We have spells. We can––”

  “Trust me, Bob. You don’t want to go wandering around in there with only portable light if you can help it. No, let’s set up shelter, have some dinner, and get a good night’s rest. There will be plenty to do in the morning.”

  Charlie began pulling wind-smoothed pieces of the ship free from the wreckage, setting them up to form a shelter as he’d done with Rika in years past. A sad shadow drifted across his spirits at the memory.

  He’d been here, in this same place, moving these same pieces of wreckage with his mission leader. His friend. Now she was gone, lobotomized by the Tslavars and sold into servitude like some mindless piece of meat, not the brilliant pilot she once was.

  Charlie pulled more of the panels to their makeshift camp, the bits of hull material effectively blocking the breeze that stirred with the approaching nightfall.

  “Charlie!” Leila called out in shock.

  He dropped what he was doing and ran to her, Bawb already there, a deadly blade in hand.