Perhaps it was the liquor, or his arrogant demeanor, but Penn could not temper the vainglorious undertone in his reply. He smirked at Bermuda, a rare expression for the cook and cooper. “Yes, quartermaster.”
The woman looked once more at the cleanliness of the galley. It was almost as immaculate as it must have appeared in its heyday. She did not allow herself to linger any longer and slipped out of the room. Even with the setting sun, a quartermaster scarcely slept.
✽ ✽ ✽
Fatigue ate away at him as he made his way down the hall to Elowyn’s room. Nicholai rubbed at his face again, hoping to jostle life back into himself. Tending the galley took a lot out of him, but he could not show any weakness. Not in front of these heathens. The first sign of debility or any shortcoming on his part could lead to an unpleasant experience. He didn’t know what—but he tried to keep his imagination from running too wild. As long as he remained useful to these outlaws, he would be safe.
As if on cue, he felt the full force of what he imagined was a steam engine plow him into the corridor wall. Nicholai winced as the crushing weight of two hands pinned his exhausted body to the hard surface. A face lingered so near to his he smelled his assailant’s breath. The Time Father’s heart thudded from the adrenaline rush, and his eyes met the captain’s scowl.
“You told me you knew nothing of the Earth Mother,” Kazuaki whispered. Though his body language suggested an incredible rage, an eerie calm lingered in his message.
It took a moment for the Time Father to find his ability to speak. The assault caught him so off guard his mind had trouble catching up with his mouth. “I—what?” He shook his head. “Earth Mother? I don’t know what you’re—”
“Belay that!” Kazuaki barked, gripping Nicholai’s shirt and tugging him forward enough so he could slam him back into the wall. “Now, I’d get to talking, before I find other ways of encouraging you.”
Nicholai remained slack-jawed, consumed by a state of confusion and panic. He thought he assured himself another day of safety with his performance in cleaning the galley, but it seemed he made a mistake. “Captain, I assure you, I do not understand what you’re talking about—”
Kazuaki narrowed his eye. He stared into Nicholai’s soul for what felt like an eternity, inspecting the validity of his words. Many interrogations took place aboard his ship over the years. He always got the answers he looked for. The captain came to learn a thing or two about reading a man. While a part of him detected the sincerity in Nicholai’s voice, he was not ready to give up the hunt for information. “I’ve been around longer than I care to admit, Nico,” Kazuaki eased the pressure on the Time Father’s shoulders until he lowered his arms altogether. “I have a lifetime of experience on my side. If you’re hiding something, I will find out.”
Nicholai inhaled, having forgotten to breathe the entire time Kazuaki’s hands were on him. He rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder, knowing full well it would bruise the next day. “I suspected as much,” he said, wondering if a way existed to get on the captain’s good side. Or, at the least, whatever side wasn’t consumed with hatred. He cleared his throat, hoping to ease the captain’s wrath by appealing to his ego. “Yes, I’ve heard of you my whole life,” he began. “Your exploits speak for themselves. Tell me,” Nicholai straightened his posture, trying not to appear weak, “how does a man become a legend?”
Kazuaki’s eye shifted. He paused before drawing in a deep breath. “Legendary men and women are birthed in single acts. They perform a feat so grand, it’s forever embedded in the memories of the people. It spreads like wildfire, spilling out of the mouths of orators for generations. The only thing that truly matters, though, is if your momentous act is born out of greatness,” he pressed his index finger down onto the Chronometer hidden underneath the Time Father’s clothing, “ ... or stupidity.”
Though the heat of his skin warmed the metal, it suddenly seemed cold under the weight of Kazuaki’s finger. Nicholai felt it pressing into his sternum, the vibration of his thundering heartbeat reverberating through his Chronometer. When he gathered enough wherewithal to speak, he said, “How long have you known?”
The captain’s finger withdrew from the cloth that covered the Chronometer. He reached into a deep pocket lined in his long jacket’s interior and pulled out the book: The Balance of the Earth Mother. “Long enough to know that because of what you are, you should possess at least some knowledge of this,” he shoved the book into Nicholai’s hands. “This book states that an Earth Mother should reside in every Time Father’s division. There’s also a small section about it in that book you’ve been reading.”
Nicholai tilted his head. It was obvious the captain rummaged through his belongings, but he remained confused. The Time Father did not yet arrive at any chapters that mentioned an Earth Mother. He lifted Kazuaki’s book to his face and sifted through the contents of the pages. His expression gathered more perplexity as he delved deeper into the writing. A look of concern overtook him. “I’ve heard nothing of an Earth Mother for as long as I’ve overseen Southeastern,” he said, finding no sense in hiding information from the captain any longer now that his secret had been exposed. “Not even my father mentioned such a creature, and he’s ruled over Western since I was a child ...”
“There are coordinates,” Kazuaki cut in, seizing the book from Nicholai and flipping to the last page. He pointed to the handwritten scrawling without taking his eye off Nicholai. “What do these mean?”
The Time Father studied the coordinates for a moment before he shook his head, dumbfounded. “I don’t know.”
“These coordinates touch no known edges of Panagea,” Kazuaki slammed the book shut and returned it to his pocket. “They’re in the middle of the ocean insofar as I know.”
“That’s ...” Nicholai trailed off, finding the whole thing bewildering, “ ... I’m not sure what to say,” he finished, unsure where Kazuaki was going with this ordeal.
The captain smirked. It was the first time Nicholai saw his expression shift to one of jubilance, however macabre it was. “No need to say anything, Nico,” he stressed his name before he turned around. “Just ready yourself for whatever awaits us at these coordinates.” The man stopped, glancing over his shoulder at the baffled man. “Unless you have more pressing matters to attend?”
It felt like a trick question. Nicholai did not wish to continue living on this vessel of thieves, but he didn’t expect the captain would let him walk away either. Especially now that Kazuaki shared his plans. The Time Father’s face fell. It all clicked. The captain was sending a message. Kazuaki’s openness to discuss his strategy was a silent indication Nicholai would go nowhere.
Dwelling with the thieves had one advantage. The ship remained the safest place he could be while attempting to devise a solution for Lilac. For Southeastern. But if they planned to run him ragged the entire time, he did not know if he’d have any opportunities to further his research. It didn’t matter either way. His options were severely limited. “I don’t,” he finally said, eyes hard on the captain.
“Very well then. Carry on,” Kazuaki vanished up a flight of stairs to the main deck. He left as quickly as he appeared.
The Time Father felt his heart pounding in his chest. He lifted a hand and laid it on his Chronometer, silent, as it still held Southeastern frozen in time. The man lived outside Southeastern for weeks now and was no closer to a solution. And the farther they crept toward those coordinates, it seemed the further away from a solution he became. Though they were far off from Panagea’s coast, and therefore unable to experience the rapid deterioration of land breaking off into the seas, he still felt the people and the divisions suffering in his entire body. Nordjan instilled in him at their last meeting things were getting worse. Nicholai sighed.
He hoped Panagea could hold out just a little while longer.
Chapter Ten
Western grew a lot in the forty years Edvard Addihein served as its Time Father. He took over for the previo
us keeper at the tender age of seventeen, making him the youngest Time Father in all of Panagea’s history. People raised questions about the young man’s capability, but most of Western did not put up a fuss at his initiation. Even as a boy, Edvard Addihein possessed intelligence, calculating skills, and ambition. The people of Western knew it too. While they mourned over the previous ruler’s passing, a lot of anticipation existed over what Edvard could do for their division. He didn’t let them down. He poured his heart and soul into the growth of Western for his entire adult life. Unfortunately, that did not leave him much time for other endeavors ... like raising children.
Edvard harbored a lot of plans for himself and his division during his youth. His plans kept him busy. He knew they would. Because of this, he never wanted children. He knew he couldn’t give a child the attention it deserved. But his wife, Enita, pressed him on the topic often.
In his earlier years as Western’s ruler, Enita dwelled in their homestead, left alone for days and weeks while he carried on with his overwhelming duties. Her loneliness crippled her. She begged Edvard to give her a companion, someone she could pour all her love into; and Enita had plenty to spare. It was her compassion that drew Edvard to her. He wanted to be the one to help her unburden her overflowing heart, but his duties often kept him from her for long stretches. Eventually, her sadness broke him and he relented to her desire. Their child, Nicholai, became the primary focus of her attention.
Edvard’s face fell as he recalled those memories. He accomplished many great things, but they came at a cost. He served Western well. Edvard was a great ruler, but a terrible husband. And, perhaps, an even worse father.
It was a realization Edvard lived with for some time. He accepted it years ago, but it was too late to remedy the circumstances. Too much time passed. The best he could do was remain true to what he knew best: manage his division with efficiency, as he always had. He excelled at it. That alone eased the guilt he harbored for failing in other aspects of his life.
Despite his best efforts, even when he threw his entire self into his work, the guilt had a way of breaking to the surface. That same guilt caused him to suggest to the other Time Fathers Nicholai should become the Time Father of the Southeastern division. The current ruler in Southeastern aged beyond common political leaders. His age, combined with the evidence he suffered from a black lung diagnosis showcased the fact he ruled on borrowed time. A pressure already existed to initiate a new Time Father within twenty-four hours of the man’s impending death. Because of this, the other Time Fathers agreed with reluctance that Edvard’s son would take over the Southeastern division.
At least they’d have one thing in common then, Edvard thought.
The aging man’s ears perked at the sound of Nordjan’s flying machine in the air. The ornithopter looked clumsy as it flapped its wings. It appeared even more ridiculous with the bulbous hot air balloon providing the vehicle with an additional lift. Though the technology grew since its first introduction, it still looked awkward in flight. Lack of perfection on the machine kept it from most of the public and other Time Fathers. The art of flight exploration and technology was new and untrusted by many. Transportation by steam train remained Panagea’s preference.
Nordjan and those in the snowy Northern division required the ornithopters and other flying machines. Frequent blizzards hindered the steam trains’ entry into Nordjan’s territory. Edvard understood their necessity there, but whenever they traveled outside Northern, they garnered some snickers from Panagea’s citizens. They called them ‘flappies’. It was not a term of endearment.
As the bulky invention settled on the ground, Edvard approached. He waited in patience for Nordjan to collect himself. The Northern Time Father did not waste much time—they only had an hour and thirteen minutes before Nordjan needed to return to his division if he wished to make it back to maintain his area’s time. “Edvard,” the looming man addressed the Western Time Father, adjusting his posture as he dusted off his attire. “I appreciate you meeting with me on such short notice.”
Edvard nodded. He wrote Nordjan an immediate reply after receiving word the Northern Time Father wished to schedule a get-together. Though he did not know the exact intention for Nordjan’s visit, he speculated it had something to do with the other letters he’d received: one instructing each division to send militiamen to Southeastern’s borders, and a second from Darjal, detailing what he knew of the events that went down in Southern. “Of course,” he replied.
“I suspect you know why I’m here,” Nordjan’s voice remained neutral. “It’s approaching a month now since Nicholai left Southeastern in a sorry state. Things are getting critical. If we do not restart time in his division soon ...” Nordjan trailed off, clearing his throat. “I need any information you might have about Nicholai, and I need it now. It couldn’t be done by letter. As you know, time is of the essence, Mr. Addihein.”
“I understand,” Edvard said with a dim nod. He had a hard time maintaining eye contact with the Northern Father. He commanded so much attention. Edvard couldn’t escape the shame he felt at his son betraying the divisions. “I’ll help however I can.”
Nordjan nodded. “Excellent. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?” He knew it was a long shot, but if anyone possessed insight into Nicholai’s mind, their best bet was his father.
Edvard hesitated. He did not have a direct answer. “I received word from Darjal, it is my understanding he’s traveling with Kazuaki Hidataka. With the sea at his disposal, I’m afraid his reach is limitless now. He could be anywhere.”
A frown crossed Nordjan’s face. As he feared, Edvard’s reply was not helpful. “Do you know why he might have done it? We had one of our monthly meetings the morning of the day he froze Southeastern,” he explained. “It was straightforward as far as I was concerned. Though he showed the same level of unprofessionalism as always, he did not appear in a damaged state of mind.”
Edvard’s eyes turned to the horizon as he drew in a deep breath. “I fear I won’t be a great asset to you, Nordjan. I know little about the goings-on of Nicholai. He wrote to me once, to tell me of the woman he intended to marry. Lilac Finn, I believe her name was. But we have not seen each other since the last decennial anniversary at Panagea’s center.”
“Anything would be of use,” Nordjan interjected with force. “Something from his childhood, perhaps? Did he suffer from any bouts of judgment lapses before? Any brushes with the law?”
Edvard shook his head. “None so far as I know,” he replied. “The only thing Nicholai suffered from as a child was inheriting his mother’s bleeding heart.”
Nordjan inclined his chin. “And we all know how far that got her.”
A low blow. Edvard’s stomach tightened. His fingernails dug into his palm to steady himself. “In any case, I have no information that will lead to his coordinates, Nordjan.”
Once again, Edvard’s recounts of Nicholai’s childhood left Nordjan no closer to finding him than when he first arrived. Nordjan knew of Nicholai’s inherited bleeding heart syndrome. It caused many of his late arrivals when the Northern Time Father visited him in Southeastern to keep the inexperienced man abreast of what he needed to do. Nicholai always needed an extra push. Nordjan chalked it up to his inability to disappoint people but assumed that as time went on, he would fall into his role with much the same success as his father before him. He just needed Nordjan’s influence.
Nicholai’s abandonment of Southeastern was not the only reason for Nordjan’s visit to Western. “Edvard,” he scrutinized the man’s face, “how much did you tell Nicholai about the Earth Mothers?”
Edvard clenched his jaw. His eyes looked lost, and he shook his head. “I told him nothing of them. Of her. Nicholai should not even know she exists.” He knew where Nordjan planned to take the conversation. “Darjal explained in his letters. I know the titles that were stolen from the library,” he added.
Nordjan knit his brows together. Nicholai would have been the
first Time Father who wasn't exposed to the complete history of their title. Traditionally, each initiation came with the knowledge of the Time Father and Earth Mother pairings. It cemented the necessity of their annihilation six-hundred years ago. Save for the one they spared. He studied Edvard. “I cannot surmise why those titles would be amongst the collection he stole if he knew nothing about her.”
Edvard’s eyes focused again, and he turned his attention to Nordjan. “Perhaps it was not Nicholai, but the company he was with. Hidataka has a penchant for hunting myths. Enough time has passed since the Earth Mothers' cleansing. Their history may well be considered a legend by now.” He paused. “Nordjan,” Edvard voice lost its usual authority, “if they find her ... if they bring her back ... what effect would that have on Panagea?”
The man inclined his chin. “I have not even considered it. I hoped we would have found him by now.”
“I doubt we can. He travels by sea,” Edvard looked out at the horizon. “A limitless ocean stretches out before him. With the art of seafaring lost, we’ve no men alive who possess the skills to find him, much less a vessel for them to operate. Her return strikes me as an issue we may need to ready ourselves to deal with.”
“Darjal has commissioned a vessel,” Nordjan explained with irritation. “The fool thinks I know nothing, but I have eyes and ears in every division and he’s made little effort to disguise his undertaking. No doubt using ill-gotten finances from his churches or the division’s treasury, but I’ve chosen to turn a blind eye to his indiscretion due to its necessity. My only concern is causing a public panic. We can handle Darjal’s ego, but a mass riot would be unquestionably harder to maintain.”
The Panagea Tales Box Set Page 15