The Panagea Tales Box Set

by McKenzie Austin

  The quartermaster turned away, lost in thought again. Her eyes drifted over to the handless limb she used to prop Umbriel up. At that moment, she jumped to her feet. The last revelation hit her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words left. Ty. The military. Her anger drove her to the pub after Ty enlisted to stand with Northern. She felt abandoned by him. She was furious, she was hurt. Her pain and several rounds of shots drove her to tell Ty that night she was joining Kazuaki Hidataka on his ship, hunting myths and legends with other outcasts who were shunned by Panagea. He was heartbroken but said he would wait for her. After months at sea, with her temper cooled and her heart aching for the man she loved, she returned to Northern to find him. “He died,” she uttered, her eyes shining with tears that went unshed for years, though none spilled down her cheeks. “They told me he died. In the battle of Northern and Northeastern.”

  Umbriel peered at Bermuda through strands of hair that stuck to her sweat-soaked face. Her expression fell to one of sadness and compassion. Bermuda could not forgive herself, Umbriel surmised. Too often the crushing weight of heartache was heavier if the individual felt responsible for it. “I’m so sorry, Bermuda. I know it’s hard. But, my dear, Mimir cannot take that pain away for you. He can only numb you to it.”

  The hair on Bermuda’s arms stood on end as she laid a hand over her chest. Over her heart. Her agony lingered with her for months. Years. There was no forgiveness, not for what she’d done. Her eyes fell to where her hand used to be. She remembered now why it was missing. She traded it away, to be free from the crippling pain that consumed her again.

  The quartermaster shot a look of daggers at Umbriel as everything fell into place. “I was content with that bargain,” she said, her fist clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. The heartache was back in full force. It reminded her with every beat why she gave her hand to be rid of it. With everything illuminated in her once clouded mind, she felt a sense of betrayal. She was back to where she started, doomed to live the rest of her existence with this horrid feeling. “Why would Kazuaki ask you to rid me of Mimir’s medicine?” Her voice was coated with rage and hurt.

  “That was not medicine, Bermuda,” Umbriel explained. “That was an illusion. Life hands all of us pieces of darkness. You need to carry them with you to grow stronger. Carry them until you realize the darkness was a gift, giving you more strength than a life of ease ever could.”

  “I have carried it!” she shot back with defiance, bubbling over with anger. “For years, I’ve carried it!”

  “No,” Umbriel corrected. “You set it down. You sat with it and grew weak with it. But you are one of the strongest women I’ve ever encountered, Bermuda. If anyone can come back from this, it is you.”

  “Please,” Bermuda scoffed and turned away. Though her anger dissipated in Umbriel’s supernatural presence, she still seethed. “You barely know me.”

  Umbriel scooted herself across the bed and propped her back up against the wall. She sighed, exhausted, but still, a smile found its way to her tired face. “I know enough,” she said, resting the back of her head on the wall as she closed her eyes. “I am certain Ty was a great person, Bermuda, and it is a crime you lost him. But you are with great people now, and they felt it was a crime to lose you too. That’s why Kazuaki asked me to help.”

  Bermuda let the Earth Mother’s words wash over her. They tempered her fire, but feelings of hurt still lingered. She saw Umbriel suffered from fatigue and cleared her throat. She did not wish to engage the weak woman further. “I ... I’ll leave you be,” she murmured as she approached the door.

  “Bermuda,” Umbriel called out from the bed.

  The quartermaster cast a glance over her shoulder.

  Umbriel’s eyes searched the woman across from her. “What happened with Ty was an unfortunate accident. You did nothing wrong.”

  Bermuda stared back. She nodded once, though Umbriel suspected she didn’t believe it. Then she slipped out the door.

  Chapter Seventeen

  She knew where to find him. After all the time they spent together, Bermuda predicted the captain’s movements with a level of accuracy unmatched by anybody else on the ship. It didn’t take a scholar to know where he’d be. Ever since they left Umbriel’s island, Kazuaki lived in his quarters, obsessing over battle strategies. Bermuda allowed none of what the Earth Mother had said to slow her brisk pace to his room. Without knocking, she flung the door open, a gust of wind blew her hair as she stood tall in the entryway.

  Unaccustomed to such a barbaric intrusion, instinct propelled Kazuaki to reach for his weapon. When he realized who barged in, his hand dropped and a look of confusion swept over him.

  “Bermuda?” Bartholomew’s chair screeched as it slid on the floorboards beneath. “Are you all right?” he asked, alarmed.

  “Leave us be,” she said, her words venom and her stare fire.

  The navigator cleared his throat and stole a quick glimpse of the captain. Kazuaki looked perplexed. Bartholomew granted him an apologetic look as he collected a few papers from the desk and stood to his feet. “As you wish, quartermaster.” With that, he saluted a silent ‘good luck’ to Kazuaki and eased past the woman on his way out the door.

  Kazuaki, still paralyzed by his incomprehension, watched Bartholomew leave before he shifted his attention to Bermuda. “What’s the matter?” he asked as he stood to his feet. He didn’t expect such a sudden appearance. The quartermaster should have been deep into one of her sessions with Umbriel. Even if she held no prior obligations, a long time passed since Bermuda came to his room without warning.

  “Why?” Fresh betrayal shook her voice.

  Kazuaki blinked. At first, more confusion fell over him. It didn’t last long until a strange excitement replaced it. Malice infected her word, but it possessed emotion: something he had not heard from her since before Mimir. “Why, what?” he dared to ask.

  “Why did you tell her to undo what Mimir did?” Bermuda stared at him, her eyes daggers. “I gave my hand to destroy that pain, and here you are, instructing her to put it right back in my chest. Why would you do that?”

  Kazuaki Hidataka was a stoic man, but his body still felt the chilling thrill of paralysis when her words poured out of her. His heart skipped. With pure, ecstatic excitement, he whispered, “Then it worked?”

  Bermuda scowled. “Your damn right it did. I can’t believe you, Kazuaki. I thought we were ...” She stopped herself and shook her head. She never knew what she and the captain were. A connection existed between the two, she couldn’t deny that, but whatever they were ... she didn’t expect this from him.

  “Bermuda,” he took a step toward her, “I did it for your own good.”

  “No,” she shot back, her cheeks flushed red with anger. The woman clenched her jaw and her frustration mounted. “You were selfish.” Her fist, clasped at her sides, shook as she flooded with emotions unfelt for years. It was hard to contain them all.

  Kazuaki took another cautious step before he lowered his voice. “Bermuda ...”

  “I never wanted you to give up your immortality, knowing every bullet from then on that pierced your flesh could be the last,” she glared, lost in the memories that sat dormant for years. Her eyes reflected so much hurt he felt his own heart pull itself apart. “But I cared about you too much to deprive you of something you wanted. Why would you take away what I wanted most?”

  The captain stopped. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the right words. His eye looked around the room as he searched for the correct thing to say, but he could think of nothing poetic, nothing that would paint him as anything other than what she labeled him: selfish. He was. He knew it, and couldn’t deny it. After a moment of collection, Kazuaki forced himself to look at her again. The man took a deep, steady breath, feeling the emptiness in his lungs as he exhaled. “Because I missed you.”

  Bermuda stood before him, unmoving. His confession was simple but powerful. Never did her captain appear as exposed as he
did now, a raw nerve standing before her in brutal honesty. “I didn’t go anywhere,” she said, the sting in her words subdued.

  Kazuaki tilted his head a fraction of an inch, his gaze still on her. “Yes,” he replied. “You did. You went far, far from here. Somewhere I couldn’t reach you. Bermuda, I know my actions troubled you. I know you’re distraught and understandably livid.” His look of dejection remained, but he let out a small exhale of relief. “But I am so glad you’re back.”

  Bermuda searched his eye, an eye that often held nothing but a rigid duty inside. She saw his sincerity. His alleviation. It softened her. Though heat still lingered in her words, she uttered, “There’s nowhere else I belong.”

  Kazuaki grinned and wrapped his arms around her, the petite woman engulfed by his tall frame. Years of guilt melted away. If Mimir took him now, he could die happy, vindicated. She returned to her true self, to her home. He closed his eye and her hair's scent filled him, salty from the ocean winds. Had unadulterated jubilance not overwhelmed him, he would have found temptation in her proximity, but Kazuaki remained far too lost in the luxury of the moment to pay the tension any mind.

  Bermuda allowed him to scoop her up. She stood on the tips of her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder. The warmth of his arms consumed her and the quartermaster felt her tensed muscles relax. “I’m still mad at you,” she said, her voice muffled as he squeezed her.

  Kazuaki did not let go. He eased his ambitious grip, but still craved her closeness too much to release her. “Stay as mad as you like,” he replied. He could handle her wrath. So long as she experienced emotion, he would take her however he could get her.

  The two remained embraced in the captain’s quarters. The sun shined through the small glass windows. It illuminated particles of dust floating in the surrounding air. Kazuaki surrendered himself to the moment for as long as time allowed him. But with each second that ticked by, his brain beckoned him closer to crossing the boundaries of his unthinkable feelings. Her proximity was too alluring. A nervous grin swept across his face. “You know, I don’t think we’ve ever—”

  “We haven’t,” Bermuda replied. She released a nervous chuckle as she pulled herself out of the embrace. The pair knew one another for many years, but never did they find their bodies pressed for so long against each other. They would take a bullet for one another, but neither the captain nor Bermuda ever considered themselves the embracing type. “Chalk it up to the moment,” she added with a small smile.

  “Bermuda,” Kazuaki’s hands lingered on her shoulders after she pulled herself from his arms, “I hope you forgive me. I know you wanted to vanquish that pain. But he didn’t just take your heart. He took all of you. It was selfish of me, yes. But know I would have done anything to get you back.”

  “It’s okay, Kazuaki,” Bermuda murmured. Feelings of sheepishness crept into her bones. She wanted to be numb to the demons that haunted her, but she couldn't blame her comrade. “In all honesty, I’m sure I would have done the same for you.”

  “Well,” Kazuaki sighed, a content smile still plastered on his face, “it’s good to have you back.” He blinked, more aware of the time in which his hands lingered on her person. With the heat of the moment passed, he forced himself to withdraw his touch. His palms felt cold without her skin against them. The captain tore his eye away from her as he edged back toward his desk. “Bartholomew and I were just ... going over some things. Tactics and strategies.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” she said as she followed him over to the table. Her eyes fell on the papers and her expression shifted to one of sarcasm. “I almost forgot we’re in the business of saving the world now. It’s odd, Captain, to want to help Panagea. I don’t think she or those who rule over her would grant us the same favor.”

  Kazuaki smirked. “So dramatic. It feels less odd if you shift your thoughts. We’re not saving the world so much as we’re toppling an empire and rebuilding it from scratch.” He shuffled the papers around and stacked them in a corner. “I like to focus on the empire toppling part.”

  Despite herself, Bermuda laughed. But her jovial nature was short-lived and her face grew serious. “I know you’re doing what you think is best, Kazuaki, or you would not be doing it. But, this whole thing ... it’s more dangerous than any other challenge we’ve taken. The entire crew is risking their lives for this. What are we gaining from it?”

  He stared at the notes he and Bartholomew took. The strategies they laid out. He knew it was an incredible undertaking. It was bold to think a handful of people could undo centuries of damage and alter thought processes and social and cultural constructs that existed for too long.

  Kazuaki feared outliving a dying world. But he would never admit it. Selfishness was not his only motivator though. “They condemned us to the sea for a long time, Bermuda,” he looked up from the piles of papers. He loved the ocean, but even the boundless waters felt small after so many years. “We know if we set foot in Panagea, our past crimes will carry us to the grave or a prison cell. I’m done with it. I want all of you to walk wherever your feet will carry you. Panagea wants the ocean to be our prison, but I want my freedom back,” he replied. “And yours. Elowyn’s. Rennington’s and Iani’s. Brack’s, Bartholomew’s, Penn’s, Revi’s Granite’s ... even his damned dog. I’d risk it all and more for every one of you.”

  Bermuda’s eyes flicked to the faux-leather cover around Kazuaki’s socket. Through Umbriel’s abilities, she was free from Mimir, but she knew his fate remained bound to the creature. “I wish you wouldn’t,” she said. “Risk it all, I mean. I let what happened with Ty wound me greatly, Captain, but ...” Her words fell flat as she looked away, embarrassed. “Kazuaki ... if you died, it would kill me.”

  Her admission lifted him. He felt every word she breathed in his veins. But her pain made him frown. “Bermuda, look at me.”

  She lifted her head but refused to make eye contact, too put off by the weakness she showed. It burned her. Bermuda, a woman who slaughtered many men in their onshore excursions, stood tough as diamonds in every way. But with matters of the heart, she was powerless.

  Kazuaki leaned over until he found her gaze. Though her expression harbored disappointment, he smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Bermuda blinked. One corner of her lips pulled into half of a smile. “Promise?”

  He grinned, and though he found the saying ironic given the situation, he uttered, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Since the departure from Umbriel’s island, the moments spent in the dining hall shifted into something greater than they were before. At first, Penn was inexperienced with the fresh ingredients; the only access to fresh food he had before was the occasional non-mutated fish plucked from the ocean. But the cook was a fast learner. Bartholomew drudged up old books from his collection that lent themselves to Penn’s learning experience. Though the literature didn’t have a strong focus on cooking, they detailed the structural integrity of plants, vegetables, and meats, giving him a vague idea of how much heat they could handle before they broke down.

  Umbriel had also been an incredible resource, though her knowledge remained limited to raw foods and how long to cook various meats over an open flame. She did not understand luxuries like pans and utensils, but the two learned together. They had a lot of time to kill as the ship continued on their path toward the Southern division.

  Revi, Granite, Brack, Elowyn, Bartholomew, and the Platts brothers all found spots at the wooden table while Penn put the finishing touches on the meal in the galley. They each held servings of various spirits in their hands, taking relief in their drinks as they relaxed from another long day. The room filled with soft chatter until Brack approached the topic on everyone’s thoughts.

  “So, how about this revolution, eh?” He looked at his companions and tried to gauge their reactions. Daily maintenance of the ship kept them all busy, with little time to discuss their futures. The concept remained foreign for the
m all. The only similarity the inevitable uprising shared with their traditional activities was that it would piss off the Time Fathers and the affluent citizens of Panagea. Though they hadn’t made enemies with everyone, some detested Kazuaki Hidataka and his band of outcasts.

  Bartholomew took a small sip from his drink, having sought solace in the dining hall after Bermuda booted him from the captain’s quarters. He looked contemplative. After a while, he lifted his head and recited, “A world may suffer because of the evil that dwells within it, but it suffers far greater when its people do nothing to change it.”

  Rennington bobbed his head as Bartholomew’s sage advice fell over the crowd. He stared at his drink as he swirled it around in his hands. “Makes no difference,” he said while he watched the brown liquid settle. “Even after we left Southern, we never stopped being soldiers. We signed on a long time ago to fight the good fight. At least this time we’ll actually be doing it.” He turned to Iani. “Am I right?”

  Iani grinned and clinked his glass with Rennington’s. “Through and through, big brother.” His smile faded as he lost himself in thought. “Have to be honest though, I always wished to fight for Southern and not against it. I know I shit-talk the place a lot, but we were born there. It was home. I loved it.” He paused, his brows knitted together as he took a big swig of his beverage. He exhaled when the burn of the alcohol seared his tongue. After the slow sting settled, he added, “I mean, I loved what it used to be.”

  “It could be that again,” Elowyn rested her cheek in her palm. “All the divisions could, as Bartholomew said.” Her eyes flicked down to the reflection staring back at her in her glass of liquor. When she was a young medic, freshly indoctrinated into the Northern military, she possessed a passion for helping people. Mankind’s general abrasiveness, and the battle against Northeastern, beat the passion out of her. But somewhere deep inside that dormant feeling remained alive. “It’s kind of exciting to think about it. To help rebuild a world into something better.”