Space Pirate Charlie: The Dragon Mage Book 2

by Scott Baron

  “Normally I’d say yeah, that’s the safest thing, but it looks like this sandstorm might pick up during the night, and now that we’ve had a good look around, I think we can pretty safely move into the outer compartments over here,” he said, gesturing at a hole torn in the ship’s side. “It’s not air-tight, but it should protect us in case the wind picks up.”

  “What of you, Wise One?” Bawb asked the Zomoki. “Will you be safe?”

  “Thank you for your concern, Geist, but I have experienced far more uncomfortable nights than this. In fact, the sand might feel good. A bit of exfoliation could be nice.”

  The Wampeh flashed a pointy-toothed grin. “Very well. We shall cover this salvage against the elements, then retire inside.”

  Charlie and Bawb made quick work securing coverings for the plasma cutter assembly they had spent so much time and effort hauling out of the ship. Leila tied Baloo’s lead firmly inside and helped them carry in any supplies that were not entirely sealed.

  Waking to find grit in your foodstuffs was something she’d experienced enough times during their flight to want to avoid, if at all possible.

  The yellow sun followed its red sibling below the horizon, the sky turning golden before fading to darkness.

  “Good night, Ara.”

  “Good night, Charlie. Sleep well.”

  After such a long day’s work, even with the winds buffeting the hull of the ship, as soon as Charlie lay his head to rest, he did just that.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Morning brought with it a brisk chill to the air that none of them had expected. Apparently, whatever weather had triggered the sandstorm the prior night had also dropped the temperature low enough for them to see their breaths.

  Give it an hour, Charlie mused as they huddled around a fire spell for warmth as they ate a light breakfast. Knowing this rock, I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re sweating balls by afternoon.

  He warmed his hands on a smaller fire spell he cast near the plasma cutter parts. He was getting the hang of that spell, though the Boy Scout in him would always want to pile wood and make a proper one. But for now, this was doing the trick. Namely, keeping his fingers warm enough to have feeling. It would be hard reassembling the complex plasma cutter without it.

  Charlie began laying out his components, blowing dust and grit from any remotely sensitive areas before bolting them to their respective assemblies. It seemed that one of the makeshift tarps had blown away in the night, but the bits it covered didn’t appear any worse for wear.

  It was quick work putting the unit back together. Even taking the time to explain what he was doing to his curious alien friends as he went, Charlie nevertheless found the process almost Zen-like in its doing. He was working with tools, not magic. Using his hands, not spells, and it felt good.

  He may have adapted to life in a magical galaxy, but he was an Earthling first and foremost, and he felt more connected to his home than ever as he ran his hands over the reassembled unit.

  The tanks were lined up and connected––he was going to try a combination of Argon, Hydrogen/Nitrogen mix to start, that particular setup being recommended for thicker metals. He’d have preferred Oxygen as the slag runoff would be less, but this was faster, and given what he’d already seen of the collars’ properties, he figured it was the best choice. Especially as they had no idea what cutting them might do to the magic contained within.

  Faster would definitely be better, if they wound up in a hurry for any reason.

  The gas flowed perfectly, and the instrumentation lit up crisply at the throw of the switch. The cutting unit and its supply feed seemed in excellent working order. The power cells, however, were another issue. They showed a charge, but something was janky with their output. Whether it was a faulty connection or just a damaged unit, without proper diagnostic equipment, there was just no way to know.

  “Okay, I think that about does it,” Charlie said, cracking his back as he stood up from his labors. “So, who’s first? Ara, you wanna give it a go?”

  “While I appreciate the offer, you are the only one who understands this device. Should you become incapacitated by your collar if the Council arrives before you have finished, you would be unable to fix or utilize it. I believe it is in our best interest if you are the first.”

  Bawb and Leila nodded their agreement.

  “Okay, then. Guinea pig Charlie it is,” he said as he picked up the scrap of heat shielding from the hull and wadded up space suit material beneath it and wedged the two beneath his collar, creating a flame and molten metal runoff deflector. He slid the protective glasses on, picked up a broken mirror he had salvaged from one of the ship’s heads, and positioned the cutting nozzle.

  I hope to hell I don’t burn a hole through my neck, he grumbled to himself, then took a deep breath and put his finger on the switch. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

  The plasma cutter activated, and an intense heat assaulted his neck and face. Charlie quickly moved the tip against the collar. A fine spray of molten metal jetted from the collar, the slag solidifying instantly in the air as the magical power of the device fought to maintain its integrity. It was that unintentional safety that wound up keeping him from being burned by the plume.

  “Magic seems to be trying to keep the collar together. How does it look from what you can see? I think I’m almost there,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Leila had turned her eyes away, but Bawb had cast some sort of protective spell, allowing him to gaze at the flames unharmed.

  Of course the assassin would have something like that up his sleeve, Charlie mused.

  “It appears to be nearly through, Charlie. Though the distant end also seems to be attempting to reconnect.”

  Shit. Must. Cut. Faster!

  Charlie cranked up the cutter and kept going, moving as quickly as the device would allow.

  Almost. Almost!

  An enormous crack shook the air, and a shockwave of dissipated magic shot out across the wasteland as the collar fell from Charlie’s neck, the glowing golden glyphs dark and silent, the band nothing more than inert metal.

  “Are you okay?” Leila asked, concern in her eyes.

  “Yeah. That actually wasn’t so bad,” Charlie lied, doing his best to hide the adrenaline shakes threatening to take hold.

  He looked at Leila’s collar, much slimmer than his. Of course, it made sense. After all, he was a dangerous gladiator who had flown a Zomoki. By comparison, cutting hers off should be a cinch.

  “What do you say, Leila? Yours should come off pretty quickly. We should probably get it first. I have a feeling we’ll need to rig something special for Ara’s band. It’s hella thick.”

  “And let us not forget, the band attempted to reattach itself when cut,” Bawb added.

  “Right. That too. We’ll need something to wedge in there to block it.”

  Bawb removed what looked like a handkerchief from a hidden pocket. “I believe this might serve the purpose.”

  “A hanky?”

  “Ootaki hair.”

  “Oh, shit. In that case, yeah, that just might work,” he agreed. “But first, let’s get Leila’s off. This should only take a minute.”

  Charlie quickly set up the rig and slid the protective gear in place.

  “Hang tight. This’ll be quick,” he said, then powered up the cutter.

  As anticipated, Leila’s was far easier to remove, and while it did unleash a similar surge of power, the intensity was far less than what Charlie’s had let loose. Looking at Ara’s massive collar, he shuddered to think what cutting that thing might release.

  Charlie and Bawb set to work wedging huge pieces of heat shielding under the collar around Ara’s neck. Despite her protests that heat really doesn’t harm Zomoki, Charlie insisted.

  “It’s a plasma cutter from another galaxy, Ara. You’re a magical badass here, but this is from far, far away, so humor me, okay?”

  The dragon chuckled warmly at his concern. “Very wel
l, do as you wish.”

  He did, and a few short minutes later she was protected as well as she could be as the torch began slowly cutting into her collar. The metal was so much thicker than Charlie’s, and the magical power contained within must have been enormous because no sooner would he make a cut than the molten metal would attempt to reconnect. Only Bawb’s diligent use of magic and Ootaki hair to block it kept the slowly progressing cut open.

  The plasma cutter abruptly sputtered out.

  “Shit! What the hell? I know we’re not out of gas,” Charlie said as he rushed to the rig.

  The problem was apparent immediately. He was correct, the unit did have an ample supply of gas. The problem was the power cells.

  “They drained,” he grumbled, tapping the dark display. “Must’ve had a faulty contact. I can rig something up from the reactor to trickle charge them back to capacity, but I’m afraid it’s going to take some time before the cutter’s ready to go again.”

  “Then I suggest you get to it,” Ara said. “I sense a great power approaching. Massive. But it is still relatively far off. Unfortunately, I fear they will be able to track my collar fairly soon.”

  “Shit. Okay, I’m going to get this charge started ASAP.”

  “Earth slang,” Bawb informed the Zomoki. “That means as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you, Geist.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Charlie had a makeshift charging system up and running within twenty minutes, but it would be a few hours before the power cells held enough juice to even dare try the cutter again. From what he could tell, they had one more shot at it before being joined by some very unwelcome visitors.

  “It’ll take hours, and there’s nothing we can do about that.”

  “Can we flee?” Leila asked.

  “We could, but I don’t think they’ll leave this equipment intact when they find this place. No, this is our last, best chance at getting her collar off.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  An idea struck him as he pulled the heat shielding from Ara’s dull, worn scales.

  “For now, I’m taking you water hunting.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Leila wrapped Baloo in his little swaddling harness and strapped him to her chest before climbing aboard the dragon’s back. The flight Charlie had proposed wasn’t a long one, but with every meal the squirming pup grew stronger. It would only be a matter of time before he managed to wiggle free of her grasp, and Leila wanted to be sure that didn’t happen while they were aloft. Fortunately, their flight didn’t take long at all.

  Ara had only just completed a low-flying loop of the area surrounding the crashed spaceship when Charlie called out excitedly.

  “There! That’s the one. I’m almost sure of it.”

  “Almost?”

  “Yes, Ara. It was a few years ago, and these piles of ruined rocks do mostly look the same. But even without the crash trail from my ship marking the way, that one looks familiar.”

  “Very well, then,” she silently replied, then glided in for a soft landing beside the cluster of rock cairns that had caught Charlie’s eye.

  The shifting winds across the red soil had long ago filled the trench that had scarred the wasteland’s surface. But the remains of the stone structures dotting the landscape were far older––and far more durable––than the humans’ ship.

  “Yeah, that’s the spot. Right over there,” Charlie said as they dismounted. “Grab the digging tools. This should be it.”

  Bawb and Leila helped unload the gear from Ara’s harness and lugged it to the seemingly innocuous pile of rocks where Charlie had already begun digging with his hands.

  “Thanks,” he said, grabbing a shovel and speeding his work.

  Leila tied Baloo to a small outcropping and filled a water dish for him, placing it in the shade. “Here you go, little guy. Now you stay in the shade. We have some work to do.”

  The trio dug into the soil that was piled up against the rocks. Ara seemed slightly agitated, sniffing the air.

  “You okay?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes. It just seems, odd here. Familiar, but not right.”

  Charlie paused and looked his friend in the eye. “Are you saying you were here before this happened? When Balamar was still alive?”

  The look in her eye told him the answer.

  “Jeez, Ara. Exactly how old are you?”

  “A gentleman never asks.”

  He was working on a clever reply when Leila’s shovel struck stone.

  “Hey, there’s something here!” she called out excitedly as she pulled dark, damp soil from the crack between the rocks. “Look. It’s damp.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen this before. Last time I was here. The waters we want are past that rock. Bob, what are you doing? We could use a hand, here.”

  The fearless Wampeh assassin, however, had taken several paces back and showed no signs of coming any closer.

  “Wise One, are these truly the waters?”

  Ara sniffed the air. “It seems that way, Geist.”

  “Then you know what they will do to me.”

  “I do.” She turned to Charlie. “His kind are rather invulnerable to a great many things, but the Balamar waters are a power that is deadly to his rare variety of Wampeh.”

  “Oh? Like, even just touching it?”

  “Yes, though I’ve never actually encountered it myself,” the assassin said. “But stories of the effects among my people are clear enough. Simply put, a touch will burn my skin on contact, like acid or fire. Any more than that and I will combust.”

  “Holy shit. It’s like some outer space holy water,” Charlie said.

  “This is not outer space, Charlie. We’re on a planet.”

  “Yes, Bob, I know. But you get the idea,” he said with a grin. “I swear, you sound more and more like a vampire every day.”

  “A what?”

  “Tell ya later. An old Earth legend. Actually, given your tastes, you’ll probably get a kick out of it.”

  “Are you two going to stand around talking, or are you going to help me dig?”

  “Apologies. Where are my manners?” Charlie said as he began pulling dirt from the stone sealing the hidden cistern as he’d done years before. “But Bob’s gonna sit this one out, I’m afraid.”

  Several minutes of digging later, they had finally uncovered the large rock Charlie had covered up after his previous visit to the wasteland. It was exactly as he left it. Well, exactly, plus a few extra feet of sand and red dirt that a recent storm had shifted atop the buried opening.

  “Okay, it pivots on the smaller bit. We just need to lever it like this,” he said, putting some muscle into the task. Unlike his first encounter, his limbs were more than up to the task after years of hard work and harder training. Moments later, the rock tilted aside.

  “I’ll grab the water containers,” Leila said as Charlie slid into the opening.

  “Thanks. Back soon,” he told Ara, then vanished into the dark tunnel leading deep underground.

  Unlike before, this time he had control of basic magic, and even the moisture in the air felt different as he walked down the carved stone path, rounding the curve and stepping into the vast subterranean cistern.

  It was just as he’d left it. A large pool of faintly iridescent water in a strangely illuminated cavern. He didn’t think twice as he stepped into the water and slipped into its depths.

  The first time had been an innocent accident, a human where no human had ever been, swimming in what seemed to be a refreshing pool. Now he knew the truth about the waters. The power they contained. And with every moment in their depths, he felt his body’s aches and pains diminish.

  He was still very much carrying the power from his first visit within him, but now, with a tiny bit of Ara’s blood flowing in his veins, the effects were amplified. Charlie swam to the rocky shore and sat chest-deep, drinking the waters deeply. He could sense the power spreading throughout his body, as if eve
ry cell was being born anew. The water would kill almost any who drank it in this galaxy, but the strange man from far away was not only immune, but also able to assimilate its power.

  “What are you doing?” Leila asked from the shore. “We’re supposed to be bringing this up to the surface, not going for a swim.”

  “I know, but it feels amazing,” he replied. “Here, put your finger in the water. Don’t drink any, of course, but let’s see how your kind reacts to it. Ara thinks you should suffer no ill effects.”

  “Or I’ll explode, like Bawb.”

  “Well, yeah. But I really don’t think that’s likely,” Charlie said with a wry grin. “Just a drop, okay?”

  Reluctantly, she held out her hand. “Okay. But just a drop.”

  Charlie took his hand from the water and held it over hers, allowing a few drops to land on her palm. A faint glow emanated from the contact, then faded into her skin.

  “Oh, my.”

  “Was that a good ‘oh, my’ or a bad ‘oh, my’? I’m a man. Sometimes we don’t know the difference.”

  “Silly. That was good. Unusual. The blister forming on my hand from digging is fading, and the irritation is gone.”

  “Well, that answers that. You’re officially invited for a swim, so long as you remember not to drink, of course.”

  Leila hesitated at the water’s edge, then stepped in. A light glow rippled across her skin as she sank in up to her neck.

  “Oh my God. All of my aches and pains.”

  “Gone, right?”

  “Yes. I feel amazing.”

  “I know. It’s incredible, right? I just wish Bob could join us. Poor guy could probably use it more than either of us,” Charlie said.

  “He just needs to drain someone dry and he’ll feel fine, I’m sure.”

  “And Ara could sure as hell use a nice bath in here, I’d wager. But there’s no way she’s fitting through that tunnel.”

  “And smashing open the top would expose this to the elements. It would be gone forever.”

  “Well, technically, it doesn’t evaporate like normal water,” Charlie noted. “But if the cistern cracked, I imagine it would leach into the soil and disappear.”