The Girl From Ortec: An Omnibus

by Amy Richie

  “What do you mean, they've disappeared?”

  “We're not sure what it means. Ortec is the fourth island city we've come across that was empty. You guys have been the only survivors.”

  “Our people are dead?”

  “We think they must be.”

  “But you don't know?”

  “There were no bodies. Only you. Did you hear anything?”

  “We were in the safe room ...”

  “Rani!” Constantina's voice jerked me back to the present. “Go and fetch some water. The Captain here will show you where.”

  I hurried to fall into step behind the tall blond man. “I'm Cyrus,” he told Constantina with a tiny twitch of his lips that could have been the start of a smile. “Everyone here just calls me Cyrus.”

  “This is Rani, servant of Ortec,” Constantina introduced. “She'll go with you.”

  He ducked out of the room without further comment and led the way back up a short set of rickety steps. It was a relief to break free of the grey walls and constant rocking below deck. I smiled widely, momentarily forgetting myself, and tilted my face into the breeze.

  “Not much air down there, huh?” Cyrus asked loudly.

  With a jerk, I pulled myself back behind him. What was wrong with me?

  “That leads to the kitchens,” he pointed out a low door as we walked. “You can go in there whenever you need anything. We took enough supplies for all of you back on Ortec.”

  For us?

  “And fresh water can be found here,” he tapped on a large barrel located just outside the kitchen door. “Here's a jug you can use.”

  I automatically raised my arms to accept the large plastic container he offered me. “Thank you,” I mumbled, careful to avoid his eyes.

  “Will you be able to find your way back?”

  I nodded slowly, not entirely sure but also not wanting him to hover over me.

  “Okay. If you need help, just call out. There's always someone close by.” He looked down at me, his gaze making me sink lower and lower until I was sure I would sink right through the rough boards under my feet. Just when I couldn't take any more, he turned and walked away from me.

  I watched him as he walked, his shoulders pulled back and his spine straight. The wind picked up around him, pulling up small tufts of his white-blond hair. Sasha was right—it was strange to meet him again after so many years.

  Twisting off the top of the water jug, I dipped water out of the barrel to take below deck. I would have preferred to sit up on deck for a while, but they were waiting for me.

  Just outside the door that led back down, I glanced longingly behind me for a final view of the vast ocean. As my eyes swept across the deck, they fell on the Captain, who was staring back at me.

  I stood there for moment, letting our eyes meet across the distance that separated us. He was a different man from the one I met on Ortec—I couldn't deny that. There was also no denying what had happened between us and what had resulted from that encounter.

  I turned and fled for the cover of those dark grey walls, of Constantina glaring my way, of Sasha's curious glance, and Dais.

  Dais looked up at me, green eyes shining.

  Chapter 8

  “I need the oatmeal,” I requested quietly.

  “You already know where it is,” Big Al, who turned out to be the ship's cook, snapped at me. He shrugged one large shoulder toward the corner of the crowded kitchen where the supplies they had collected from Ortec were stacked.

  Yeah, I knew. And I knew enough not to let his growls bother me either.

  “Aren't the survivors of Ortec sick of oatmeal yet,” he sneered.

  “No.” I scooped a generous handful of oats from an already opened bag and added them to a deep red pot that was already full of bubbling hot water. “Why would we be?”

  “You've been here four days now,” he took his large whisk from the dark blue bowl he was holding to point it at me, spraying bits of mushy food on me, “and I haven't seen you make anything except oatmeal.”

  “It's easiest,” I shrugged, wiping the goo from my forehead. “No one minds.”

  “Don't you know how to cook anything else?”

  The truth was I didn't really know much about cooking. I had never been very good at it―not like the women who worked in the kitchens at the council building. I had always been just good enough to get by. Nothing more.

  “I do,” I raised my chin defiantly, “but this is easiest.”

  The door to the kitchen creaked open then. I caught just a glimpse of Captain Cyrus before ducking behind the tower of boxes.

  “Big Al,” he greeted deeply.

  “Cyrus.” Big Al didn't look up from his bowl.

  “The girl from Ortec, the one they call Rani ...”

  Big Al grunted his understanding.

  “They said she came to the kitchens.”

  “Over there,” he jerked his thumb to where I was still crouching.

  I scowled lightly, but had no choice but to face Cyrus. “Rani,” he smiled tightly. “What are you doing behind there? Looking for something?”

  “Honey,” I replied hastily. “Might ... make the oatmeal taste better.”

  Big Al thrust a small brown bottle into my hand. I pocketed it without looking.

  “All set?” Cyrus looked from me to Big Al.

  “Yes,” I choked out.

  “I'll walk you back then.” Without waiting for a reply, he strode from the kitchen.

  “Thanks a lot,” I muttered on my way past Big Al.

  His eyes never left the food he was busily preparing. “Didn't realize you were trying to hide from him,” he mumbled.

  “I wasn't.”

  “Then what's the problem?”

  I was still scowling when I joined Cyrus outside.

  “Everything okay?” He reached for the pot I clutched to my chest, but I didn't give it up.

  “Yes,” I nodded, falling easily into step with him.

  Avoiding Cyrus had proven to be next to impossible. The blond Captain seemed to pop up wherever I was.

  “Of course I would never tell you that you have to stay below deck,” his deep voice cut into my thoughts, “but I would prefer you didn't keep wandering off on your own.”

  I only did as I was told. Constantina sent me for food and water every day of the four we'd been here. That hardly counted as wandering around.

  “The men here aren't used to having a woman on board,” he continued, oblivious to my inner mutiny. “Not that they would hurt you. But their speech ...” He let his words fall away, leaving me to wonder what was wrong with the way they talked.

  “I'm sure it isn't easy to keep the child locked up in one room,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

  “He's fine,” I stuttered out.

  “I suppose so,” he nodded, “having spent several months locked in the safe room was good practice.”

  “Mmm,” I muttered something like agreement.

  “How did the boy come to be in the safe room anyway? I thought he would be with his father.”

  “He's mine,” I blurted out, unable to stop the words.

  “Yours?” Cyrus' steps faltered slightly.

  “Yes.”

  “I just assumed ... I thought he came from somewhere else because of his coloring. It happens more often than I like to see―island cities sending away their unwanted young with the bartermen. I just thought...”

  “No. He's mine.”

  “I didn't realize servants of Ortec were allowed to be mothers; I didn't know you were married.”

  “Widowed,” I quickly corrected.

  “I'm sorry.”

  “I'm not.” I gasped out loud, but the words refused be sucked back in.

  “Cyrus!”

  A broad shouldered man wearing his dark hair indecently long called out to the Captain, forcing us to stop and wait for him.

  “What is it, Quinn?” Cyrus asked with narrowed eyes.

  “We're within si
ght of Callo.” Quinn's eyes moved slightly to travel the length of my body. Without thinking, I shifted behind Cyrus.

  “I'll return Rani to her room and then join you on deck.” The men nodded to one another and Quinn hurried away.

  “You don't have to be afraid of Quinn,” Cyrus commented casually.

  “What is Callo?” I asked quietly.

  If Cyrus thought it was strange that I would ask a question about a conversation that wasn't mine, he made no indication of it. “It's another island-city,” he sighed. “A lot smaller than Ortec, but I'm sure it will be empty as well.”

  We reached the still open door that led down below deck. “Just stay down there until someone comes to tell you it's safe,” he ordered before turning away.

  Callo? My eyebrows bunched low on my forehead. I thought we were going to the Nation. How long would it take to get there? How long would I be under the shadow of Captain Cyrus?

  Chapter 9

  “What took so long?” Constantina snapped as soon as my feet hit the solid floor of the long room.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, hurrying to where Sasha waited to dish up the oatmeal I had brought back with me.

  “Did you see the Captain?” she whispered as I pulled the lid from the red pot.

  “Yeah,” I nodded.

  “He certainly does like to keep a watch over you,” she raised both eyebrows high on her head.

  “He's just ...” I shook my head quickly, not really sure what he was doing. I couldn’t deny that he did seem to turn up whenever I ventured above deck.

  “He's a strange man,” she commented quietly as the nurse Betna came to join us.

  “I'll take these,” she offered, taking two full bowls from Sasha and delivering them to Angelina and Katrina.

  “Rani,” Constantina barked loudly from across the room, “go and get us fresh water.”

  “Captain Cyrus said we should stay down here until he says it's safe.”

  “Why?” Doctor Gourini asked sharply, “why won't it be safe?”

  Every face turned to me, making me wince away uncomfortably. “There's another island-city called Callo. We've reached it.”

  “Are we stopping?”

  I nodded, catching my bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Why?”

  “To search for survivors.”

  “And we have to stay down here?” Angelina screeched.

  I couldn't understand why that would bother her so much; she never left the room anyway. But it was probably best not to say any of that.

  “And how long will that be?” Constantina asked shrilly, her nostrils flared wide.

  “He didn't say,” I answered quietly, hoping it wouldn't take long for Cyrus and his men to search Callo. Never leaving Ortec myself, I couldn't know how big Callo was.

  “And what will we do for food and water?” Katrina asked, her large eyes going even wider. “Will we starve? Do you think they'll leave us down here that long?”

  “No,” Doctor Gourini scowled, “I imagine it won't take long. I've heard of Callo before, and I don't think it's as large as Ortec.”

  “I hope you're right,” Constantina sniffed, “because we're nearly out of water.”

  My eyes drifted on their own accord to the half-filled jug of water that had been thrust at me. I looked away just as quickly, not keen to doubt her words.

  *****

  “What do you think?” Sasha whispered, careful not to let her question carry to the others who were huddled close to the far wall, deep in their own conversation.

  “About what?” I hissed back, knowing full well what she meant.

  “About the Captain,” she responded, impatience starting to color her voice.

  “I'm a servant of Ortec,” I mumbled awkwardly. “It isn't my place to think anything.”

  “Hmm,” Sasha sat back against the wall, not saying anything.

  I was careful not to look at her. I still wasn't sure what I thought of Captain Cyrus. There was no denying he was a different man from the pirate Cyrus. Very different.

  By the time Captain Cyrus made his way down the rickety steps, Angelina had fallen into a restless sleep. Constantina sat on the bed beside her, silent and still.

  Occasionally, I would glance up and catch the leader of Ortec glaring across at me, but I looked away just as quickly each time. I wasn't sure why Constantina hated me so much, but I could guess. It wasn't a fair hatred though—I didn't ask Sid to marry me.

  I would have preferred to stay on Three and plant tomatoes with my mother. Did she think I wanted this life?

  I swallowed the thick lump of guilt that had formed in my throat. I had no right to think such evil thoughts against Constantina.

  The rough sound of boots on the steps chased away all other thoughts a moment later though. Scrambling to my feet along with everyone else, we turned as one toward Cyrus.

  “Did you find anything on Callo?” Doctor Gourini asked quickly, glancing first at me then at the Captain.

  “There was nothing,” Cyrus answered quietly, his voice low and rumbling. “No one there. No bodies.”

  “No survivors?”

  “None. It's the same as the others.”

  “What could be doing this?” Constantina asked, her wide eyes searching the Captain for the answer.

  “We don't know,” Cyrus admitted. “No one has seen anything like this before.”

  “Could it be the sickness?”

  “No bodies,” Doctor Gourini replied before the Captain could.

  “Bodies?” Angelina shuddered and pressed herself closer to Constantina.

  “No bodies,” Cyrus nodded grimly. “Can't figure out what's happening.” He shook his head, his eyebrows lowering to bunch together on his forehead.

  “Will we go to the Nation now?” Constantina asked, her hand resting lightly at the base of her throat.

  “Not yet.”

  “Why not?” Angelina asked before anyone could say anything.

  Cyrus answered her without hesitation. “We have two more cities to check, and after those we'll head to the Nation.”

  His eyes locked with mine briefly, and I hurried to look away first.

  “Are we allowed to leave this room now?” Betna asked.

  “Yes,” he nodded, swinging his eyes away from me. “It'll be a few days before we get to Rivend. You can be comfortable until then.” He bowed awkwardly, glanced back at me, and left.

  I slowly let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. Sasha nudged my shoulder lightly, but I didn't look up at her. I knew what she would want to know, and I didn't have an answer for her.

  Chapter 10

  I raised my face, tilting my chin so the wind could play freely with the small wisps of hair that had broken free of the binding I had put on that morning. The water seemed to stretch even further when it was all we could see from the boat.

  “This beats being below deck, doesn't it?” Sasha asked, slightly breathless.

  “I didn't know ... there was so much water,” I gasped, clamping my hands across my stomach as the ship gave a mighty lurch.

  “How could you not know there was water out here?” Angelina snorted. “How did you think the ship was going to sail?” She rolled her eyes dramatically, exchanging sneers with Katrina.

  The two women were sprawled out comfortably on long chairs while the rest of us lounged around them.

  Sasha spared me the briefest of smirks—which threatened to bring about a full out laugh from me. I covered my mouth and quickly turned away.

  Captain Cyrus stood tall and rigid near the front of the ship with the man I recognized as Quinn. The men weren't talking, instead staring off in two different directions. Quinn was staring over at us, but Cyrus was watching ... Dais.

  My eyes narrowed as they followed his line of vision. Dais' white-blond hair ruffled wildly in the breeze; he brushed impatiently at his forehead, gazing up at Big Al with his mouth slightly open.

  “What do you think they're talking a
bout?” I whispered to Sasha.

  “Who?” She looked over, her lips tightened briefly. “Dias told me yesterday that he wanted to ask if any of the men had seen a shark.”

  “A shark?” my voice rose slightly with surprise.

  Angelina turned back to me, laughing. “You don't actually believe there are sharks out there, do you?”

  “Everyone knows sharks aren't real,” Katrina added loftily. “It's just something parents say to keep their kids out of the water.”

  Under the cover of their laughter, Sasha leaned close to whisper to me, “When are you going to tell Cyrus?”

  “Tell him what?” I hissed, knowing what she was talking about.

  “You need to tell the Captain that Dais belongs to him.”

  We had already had this discussion before, and my answer was still the same. “I can't tell him.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” I hissed. “I can't. What if ...” I didn't finish my thought out loud; I couldn't. Saying it out loud made the fears more real. What if Cyrus took Dais with him? What if he, like almost everyone on Ortec, thought I wasn't good enough to raise a child on my own? As long as I could help it, I wasn't telling him the truth about my son.

  “I still think you should,” she retorted sharply.

  “Hello,” a deep voice vibrated just above us.

  “What is it?” Doctor Gourini asked, standing to his feet, but still not eye-to-eye with the broad man with long black hair.

  “I've come to ... introduce myself,” Quinn explained awkwardly.

  “What for?” Constantina snapped, her eyes narrowing.

  “I'm Quinn,” he plowed, ignoring her rudeness, speaking directly to the doctor. “I've been with Cyrus for almost seven years.” He pushed his chest out proudly.

  Seven years? Had Cyrus been a barterman for all this time? The doctor reached across the small space and clasped hands with the large man.

  I relaxed slightly, allowing my gaze to shift again to Cyrus. He was staring back at me.

  Sasha was watching Dais, her eyes narrowed slightly. “I don't know how he hasn't realized yet,” she commented softly.

  Suddenly, my ears felt way too hot. “Shh,” I hissed, pressing my fingers tight to my mouth as soon as the sound escaped me.