Dragonseers and Bloodlines: The Steampunk Fantasy Adventure Continues (Secicao Blight Book 2)

by Chris Behrsin

  “Don’t worry,” Colas said, resuming his monotone robotic tone. “Your colleagues will be here soon.”

  I folded my arms over my stomach and waited, tapping my foot. In a way, I wanted to ask questions, but I had a feeling that Colas wouldn’t provide any conclusive answers and that I’d merely be providing him with a form of twisted entertainment by displaying uncertainty. Sure enough, a minute or so later, Faso and Wiggea were jostled out of the jungle into the clearing, looking like they’d each just drunk a bottle of whiskey and then only had a few hours’ sleep.

  “What’s the meaning of this,” Faso said. His gaze fell on the panther automaton. “That thing…”

  “It’s what shot us out of the sky,” I said. “And it’s purpose seems to be to keep Velos here while we trek up the mountain.”

  Faso looked up at the looming clouds. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way I’m going up that thing.”

  “Oh, but you are,” the voice came from Captain Colas even louder than before. “If you want to see your son again and show him what a responsible father you are, you will climb to the top and you’ll do it without grumbling. Because, if you annoy me too much, I’ll order one of my escorts to push you off the cliff. And then poor Taka will become an orphan. You wouldn’t want that now, would you?”

  “Colas you bastard,” Faso said. “Why don’t you show yourself instead of hiding behind a concealed speaker system.”

  “Because I’m at the top of the mountain and you’re not. Now get cracking pronto. Or do I need to tell my automaton to grind you into shape?”

  The panther sat on the floor and let out an incredibly loud and unsettling purr.

  “And what about Ratter?” Faso said. “What have you done to him.”

  “You won’t be needing that archaic piece of technology. Why don’t you try to survive without your machines for a change, Mr Gordoni? It seems you’ve become far too reliant on them.”

  Colas once again switched to his second language so he could bark out his orders. In response, a few of them had split off from the party, including the tribal chief. Others had rushed off back towards the village camp, perhaps to get supplies. By the look of things, Faso and Wiggea would need plenty of water to help them on their way. To be honest, I was surprised I wasn’t nursing a hangover myself.

  Soon enough, the tribespeople returned, with huge gourds carrying what I presumed to be water. The panther lay down as if basking in the sunshine, much as you’d expect a real cat to behave. I wondered for a moment if the sun powered the panther in some way. Maybe it gave it energy through warming up the secicao or something. The heat the sun emitted was much stronger here than it was in Tow or the Southlands, so it would make a lot of sense to harness it as a power source. Though how one would go about that, I had no idea. I’d leave the up to Faso to solve, if perchance I happened to mention it to him later.

  Another six tribespeople carried backpacks on their backs with supple wooden frames built over a white cloth and tied up with hemp rope. There were two women and four men, and all of them wore a similar robe to what we wore. The tribal chief had also recently put one on. I guessed that it would be a lot colder at the top of the mountain than it was here. Oddly, he also wore one of our rifles slung over his back, and I wondered if he knew how to use the thing.

  The chief orchestrated everything, screaming orders and dancing around with an enigmatic display of energy. He cartwheeled from tribe member to tribe member, instructing them to place items on the floor, so others could wrap them in cloth to be placed in the rucksacks. Lots of fruit and dried meat went inside.

  It wasn’t long before everything was packed up and six guides stood with backpacks on them, ready to carry things up the mountain. The tribal chief then approached me and pointed up towards the mountain’s peak.

  The sky had become even more laden with grey by this point and gravid with humidity. A roll of thunder cracked out of thin air, to be soon accompanied by Colas’ booming yet monotonous voice.

  “I see you’re all ready to go,” he said. “Now, the faster you get here, the less chance anyone will get hurt.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “What’s going to happen to Velos? At least give us some information.”

  “Oh dear, oh dear. Time is getting thinner as we speak. It’s time you learned some obedience, Dragonseer.” Colas then cut into the other high-pitched language, giving orders to the chief who had his ear turned to the sky and his hand cupped over it. Without saying another word to us, Colas’ voice cut off, then the chief stepped forward and beckoned us onwards.

  It was time to once again step off into the unknown.

  CHAPTER 15

  BY THE TIME EVERYTHING WAS ready, my ankles were itching profusely. I’m sure I’d had the bites for a while, but I guess I’d only just noticed, over the side-effects of the drug, that they were there. The briefing material in Fortress Gerhaun had warned us about the danger of dengue fever here. I really didn’t fancy contracting this during the hike up, and so I decided before we left that we should take some insect repellent with us. I wondered then if the tribespeople had their own way of warding off mosquitoes — perhaps they had some herbal concoction more effective than our artificial repellent, or perhaps they just lived with them. I had no idea.

  So, instead of climbing the mountain as the tribal chief had instructed, I took a step towards Velos, looking at the panther as it growled at me again and raised itself up on his front legs. I put my hands up in the air to indicate surrender. “I need something from my dragon. He has insect repellent. And I should at least be able to say goodbye before we head on up.”

  I knew I wasn’t talking to an automaton at this point but Captain Colas who probably had some device set up watching me. Most likely, there was a camera hidden somewhere inside the panther automaton, perhaps behind its red eyes. But there could have also been a Hummingbird floating nearby or one of those funny lens-like devices that I’d seen Faso employ in his own workshop with propeller blades on top. Wherever it was, it was pretty well concealed, otherwise I’d be tempted to snatch a spear off one of the tribespeople, rush forward and smash the aperture open to buy us a little time.

  Without asking permission, I took some further steps forward, and the panther did nothing. Velos crooned as I approached, and he lowered his head to me. I stroked the scaly skin under his neck. “It will be okay. I’ll come back for you… I promise.” And I sang him a song to reassure him that he’d be safe here. Even though I had no idea if he would — I didn’t even know if I’d be safe myself.

  He crooned again and then lifted his head away from me and turned to look at the panther automaton, who regarded us with those evil red crystalline eyes. No matter how far technology had come, devices like these hadn’t grown any less menacing looking. Although, given most automatons nowadays were war machines anyway, their creators had probably factored the ferociousness into their design.

  I moved around to the side of Velos and climbed up his armour via the ladder. The automaton regarded every single move I made with utmost attention. It kept itself in a crouching position as if it would leap on me and tear me to pieces if I made a single misstep. I moved to my seat and instead of sitting down on it, I unbuckled the latch there and opened the compartment underneath. Amongst the contents inside were various devices I might need including my bit and plug device for breathing, as well as a standard gas mask for harsher conditions, a spare hip flask filled with a mixture of mine and Sukina’s secicao oil blends, and several aerosol cannisters containing the insect repellent I wanted.

  Out of the corner of the eye, I noticed something rather strange. While the panther was watching me with intent, the tribal chief had ordered his people towards a patch not far away from where Velos’ flames had scorched the ground. The tribespeople were now digging at the soil with their fingers, while the chief kept glancing over at the panther, tapping his foot impatiently.

  It was obvious that he was doing something that he should
n’t be doing. But the panther automaton continued to watch me, probably not expecting any disobedience from the tribespeople. I just hoped there wasn’t anything else other than the panther watching nearby.

  Faso was also standing back, his hands on his hips seeming to supervise the operation. He did say he’d visited East Cadigan Island before, so maybe he had a way of communicating with the tribespeople.

  Whatever they were up to over there, I decided I probably better buy them some time, and so I pretended to rummage through the compartment, even though I had found exactly what I’d been looking for. I probably wouldn’t need the bit-and-plug device or gasmask as I doubted the crater was so high up that we’d have breathing problems. But I wanted that secicao flask so I could augment if I had to.

  The question was, where could I conceal it without the panther noticing? The robe that the tribe had kindly donated to me didn’t have any pockets. Then I had the bright idea of placing the flask under my armpit, and I could work out a better location later.

  I glanced back towards the panther automaton. Then I lifted both a cannister and the hip flask together. I quickly stuffed the hipflask under my armpit, keeping it vertical to give it the best chance of concealment. If my arms had been bare, then I would have had no chance of hiding it. But because this robe was baggy, the folds of cloth concealed it well.

  I threw the cannister down to the floor, causing the panther to flinch. But otherwise it displayed no threat. I reached down to get another cannister of insect repellent from the compartment. As I did, I glanced over my shoulder, to take a look what was going on. The tribespeople had already dug a hole in the earth and were now pushing the soil back into the hole again. Meanwhile, the chief was walking away from the hole, carrying a dormant device in his wide open hands.

  It was Ratter, displaying no sign of life. Faso looked down at it, nodded, and then the chief stuffed it in one of the wooden-framed rucksacks already on a tribesperson’s back and concealed it from view.

  That confirmed my suspicions. Something about what I had done at the firepit had turned these people into our allies. Or maybe they’d been our allies all along, wanting to rid themselves of the oppression caused by Colas and his panther automaton. They’d buried Ratter for a reason, and I wished I could speak their language so I could at ask what that was.

  I took hold of another cannister, and then climbed back down the ladder, making sure to keep my right arm close to my body so the hip flask didn’t also drop down on the floor. Once at the bottom, I sprayed the insect repellent all over me, glad that I’d no longer have to worry about the mosquitoes, despite the slight stinging sensation it caused on my skin. I then bent down and picked the other cannister off the floor. I walked back over to the tribe and gave one can to Wiggea, who accepted it gracefully. I offered the other to Faso who just snatched the thing off me. Both men proceeded to douse themselves in repellent and then handed the cannisters to the tribespeople so they could also put them in the rucksacks.

  The tribal chief then stepped forwards and he pointed up the mountain for a third time with his spear and made a beckoning sign with his free hand. Clearly, he wanted us to get moving.

  We started the hike just as it once again clouded over and the first heavy drops of rain fell from the sky.

  The hike was much harder than it looked. Admittedly, living in the Southlands for so long, I wasn’t so used to ups-and-downs anymore. And we took the most direct route, it seemed, straight up with few plateaus and absolutely no descents along the way. I would have much rather flown Velos to the top and had done with it.

  Once we’d hiked a little way up the mountain, a second panther emerged. While the first had been blue underneath the veins of green secicao fuel, this one instead had a red tint to it. Other than that, it looked an exact replica of the first one and equally fierce. How many of these beasts did Colas have on this island?

  I wondered if Ratter would stand a chance against these seemingly stealthier, more agile, and what I presumed to be superior mechanical beasts. Of course, if I asked such a question to Faso, he’d tell me how Ratter was the best automaton ever known to man and how Colas was a lesser scientist in comparison.

  But it didn’t matter which automaton would beat up the other should they fight. Clearly Colas had been using these things to subject the people of the land to do his bidding. They seemed to think he was their god and I dreaded from the base of stomach what the old man was up to. The fact he was supplying the tribespeople Exalmpora had Empress Finesia’s scent all over it. Which meant Alsie Fioreletta might be involved too.

  I tried not to grumble too much on the way up, despite being continually out of breath and sweating out more water than I could take in. Faso, unfortunately, wasn’t so stoic. He kept demanding that we should stop for a breather every hundred steps and kept complaining that if we climbed so fast then he had no time to stop and admire the view, which admittedly proved absolutely stunning once we’d got away from the rain.

  “We’re here to rescue your son, not to sightsee,” I reminded him at least a couple of times. And each time he responded with a snarl and remained quiet for several hundred yards or so before complaining about something else.

  Wiggea, on the other hand, didn’t let out a single complaint on the entire hike. He kept watching over me as I walked, like a loyal guide dog. Having him there made me feel safer, even with a mechanical panther stalking us that could shred our party of ten to pieces. And Wiggea remained the perfect gentleman — catching me whenever I stumbled over a rock, or when I lost my balance again and almost went tumbling over a precipice. He brought a gourd of water close by whenever he saw I was thirsty, and he kept asking every so often if there was anything I needed. Dragonheats, if Faso took even a single a leaf out of the lieutenant’s book, then the inventor would get on with people a lot better and maybe I’d respect him more.

  Fortunately, though, there wasn’t much rain when we got further up the mountain. An occasional drizzle here and there, but the clouds passed overhead quickly before they could dump their load on us. After quite a few hours of climbing we finally reached a plateau — the first one for what had felt like miles. Then, the ground started to rumble and Wiggea immediately moved in to protect me.

  “Earthquake, Maam,” he said. “Get down!”

  The tribal chief looked up towards the top of the mountain and then also beckoned for our six strong guides to crouch down immediately. Faso crouched last. Wiggea held me close as I trembled in his grasp. The other six tribespeople and the tribal chief kept as far apart as possible from each other — a wise strategy in case we’d have to dodge any falling rocks.

  “We’re all doomed,” Faso shouted out to the sky. “This is the end. A bloody earthquake and I have no technology to protect me. Colas, you’re doing this to me, aren’t you? You want to show me how incapable I am without technology. You’ve wanted to do this since you met me. You want to display me as a lesser man.”

  Dragonheats, the man had gone stark raving mad. Meanwhile, the ground shook underneath my feet and I half expected a chasm to tear up the earth beneath us and swallow us into the abyss. That would be ironic, after how far we’d come.

  Everything was shaking so hard that even the panther looming nearby didn’t seem to know what to do. One moment it was lying down on the ground trembling, the next it was trying to lift itself on two legs, and then tumbling across the plateau, the next it stood up on all fours and leaped across the ground as if trying to fly away from the earthquake. But, of course, gravity prevailed.

  It was lucky we were on a plateau, really. Otherwise, I’m sure we’d all be tumbling down the mountain. But that thought gave me a little idea. Here I was cowering in Wiggea’s arm and, despite how good it felt to be pushed up against a little muscle, I had an opportunity to get rid of that panther automaton.

  I let the hip flask slip from under my armpit and took a swig from it. Well, I say a swig. With my jaw chattering and the world rumbling about me, I spilled mu
ch over my face. Some splashed into my eyes, stinging them. I would have thought it a huge waste, if it didn’t give us a chance to dispose of our captor. But soon enough the world ghosted green, and I felt some strength and agility return to me.

  I no longer felt paralysed by the rumbling ground, but instead I felt a certain synchrony with the resonance. I could feel the rhythm of the earth and I knew exactly when I could leap and when I should crouch. The panther now had also found a little more balance and through my augmented vision I could see it glowing even greener than before. A ball of light began to emerge from its mouth, but the earthquake soon knocked it down again, and that ball dissipated into the dust.

  I got down onto all fours, knowing that I’d move faster along the shaky earth in this posture. I stalked forwards just as the panther started to get up again.

  “Dragonheats, Pontopa,” I heard Faso call out from behind me. “Stop it! You’re going to get us killed.”

  Really, that man needed to learn to have more faith in ladies like me. Particularly, as I was the dragonseer here, and he’d already admitted himself to be crippled without the aid of his inventions.

  So, I tried my best to ignore him as I leaped upon the back of the panther. It tossed its head to the air and let off a huge roar which sent shivers down my spine. I fastened one arm around its neck, as it tossed and bucked and tried to throw me off. Still the secicao made me strong and the added agility gave me a certain ability to sense the panther’s movements ahead of time.

  With my free hand, I felt around for an opening where there might be a power core. That was the way Ratter worked — Faso had installed a hatch on his back, beneath which ran an intricate array of wires and other devices I didn’t understand. But even a the most foolish of fools knew how to remove a power core.

  The earth bucked again, sending me and the panther into a tumble. We roly-polied down the plateau, accelerating towards a massive drop. As we rolled, the sharp volcanic rock tore at my skin, causing me to yelp out in pain. But the secicao oil numbed my senses a little, which at least made the pain manageable.