Voidhawk

by Halstead, Jason

  He nodded to her. “Perhaps they do. The price of service is measured in blood and in souls, not in gold and jewels.”

  Jenna shrugged, but said nothing.

  He stared her down for a long moment, but when she refused to yield he spun away. “Take her and be gone from my sight!” Rolxoth snapped to Dexter.

  “What will you do?” Dexter asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

  Rolxoth walked towards his desk. “We’ve not seen the last of each other, Captain.”

  Jenna grabbed Dexter’s arm and pulled him encouragingly towards the door. Dexter stared after the otherwise occupied sheriff for a moment, wondering if the eyeless being could still see him, then let Jenna guide him to the door and out of the office. Other than a cursory glance, none of the city guardsman paid them any special attention on their way back out of the building.

  They walked silently for only a few city blocks before Dexter said to her, “I think the time has come.”

  Heart beating faster all of a sudden, Jenna asked softly, “Time for what?”

  “For you to be leveling with me. I’m through sailing without a course, Jenna. I’m feeling a powerful need to know that springing you out of that cell wasn’t another bad decision in a string of many I’ve been known to make.”

  Jenna nodded, taking a deep breath as she did so. “Not on the ship though, okay? I don’t want the others to know.”

  “Aye, I’ll grant you that,” Dexter conceded. He saw a tavern approaching and steered towards it.

  The tavern, Whitefish Hall, was surprisingly clean. A veteran of countless dockside bars, Dexter did a double take upon entering at how quiet the inhabitants were, and how secluded the booths seemed to be. A look at the serving maids and the bartender and he began to wonder if they had stumbled into the wrong place; they all wore tailored uniforms that, while attractive, were striking and professional.

  “Gods, what is this place?” Dexter mumbled.

  “Sir, a table or a booth for you and the lady?”

  Dexter jumped at the question. He turned and saw a uniformed man standing beside a podium. He glanced at Jenna, who was just as surprised as he was. “Um, a booth, I think.”

  “Excellent, this way, if you please,” he said with a flourish of his hand.

  Dexter glanced at Jenna, who only shrugged and smiled. He returned the smile and followed the man to a booth that was easily as private as the rest. He seated them and made a few suggestions as to the cooks specialty, some sort of roasted hen with some sauce or other, then returned to his position near the entrance.

  Dexter glanced around again and then shook his head to help him refocus on the task at hand: Jenna. “Okay, so let’s try this again.”

  Jenna nodded. She opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times, not certain where to start. Then she smiled and asked, “Dex, can I ask a simple thing of you first?”

  Dexter pursed his lips thoughtfully. He shrugged and nodded, saying, “Aye, you can ask. I won’t be saying yes before the question though.”

  Jenna nodded, smiling. “Will you kiss me?”

  Dexter just stared at her, not comprehending her request immediately. “Will I… kiss you?”

  She nodded. “Just a simple kiss before my story. I want – no, I need to feel it in case what I tell you leaves me adrift on this rock.”

  Dexter chuckled, nearly saying that nothing she could say would make him cast her off his ship. He stopped himself though, remembering that she had just claimed to be born a high ranking member of the royal house of the Elven Empire. There were a great many possibilities that would make him think twice about inviting her back upon his ship.

  “A kiss seems simple enough,” Dexter admitted.

  Jenna slid out from her side of the booth without wasting any time. She scooted in next to Dexter smoothly, and reached up to pull his face to hers. Surprised, Dexter started to open his mouth but then felt her lips press against his. Within a few confused seconds he lost himself to the surprising passion of the kiss. Surprising to him, at least.

  “Still falling for the lesser races, I see.”

  Jenna ended the kiss abruptly, yanking herself away and twisting about on the padded bench. Dexter blinked his eyes, lips still open and pursed, and had to shake his head to focus through the fog she had instilled in him. What he saw was three men, all elves. Two of them with pistols in hand, though they were pointed at the ground in a marginally less threatening manner. The third elf, who stood in the middle, had addressed Jenna.

  “Less long-lived, perhaps,” Jenna replied. “Greater in so many other ways.”

  The elf in the middle laughed harshly. “The same old debate, and the same old scandal that got you shunned from your father’s court, I see. It is of no matter, really. What does matter is that you’ve so conveniently shown up on the eve of our momentous victory.”

  “Jenna, care to introduce me to your friends?” Dexter asked casually, though his tone held a hint of threat to it.

  “Not friends, Captain,” Jenna replied curtly. “Duballin is one of my brother’s worms. His two protectors are Trevin and Krotal, thugs that would kill their own mothers if the wind blew right.”

  “Such glowing praise, I see your time away has not tamed you,” Duballin said, his eyes narrowing slightly at her harsh words.

  “A pity,” he continued, gesturing with his hand for both of them to step out of the booth. “The Emperor will be glad of your return, but disappointed by your continuing refusal. It will weigh heavy upon him to know of his wayward daughter… It would be a shame if I were forced to bring him news of how I had to deal with her in his stead when she refused our hospitality.”

  Jenna glared at him, but slid out. As her hand pushed off the booth behind her she felt Dexter’s fingers and clutched it for a brief second, squeezing his hand and confusing him further. Then she was gone.

  “You as well, Captain Silvercloud,” Duballin said with a predatory smile.

  Seeing both pistols resting all too casually in his direction, Dexter returned his smile and slid out behind her. He led the way to an open doorway that led deeper into the tavern. Jenna and Dexter followed behind, and were trailed after by Duballin’s associates.

  “I’d really rather you just told me about your past, rather than show me,” Dexter said softly to Jenna as they walked.

  “Me too,” she responded.

  They were led down some stairs and down another hallway, then into a room with a door that seemed uncomfortably thick to Dexter. Inside the room there was nothing, just walls, floor, and ceiling made of the same wood as the door and the rest of the establishment. Duballin smiled at them humorlessly and slipped between Krotal and Trevin, then they too retreated. The door shut with a muffled finality that snuffed out what little light had filtered in from the passage outside.

  “Just one little kiss,” Dexter muttered, glancing about in the darkness and straining to pick up any light at all.

  “It was a good kiss,” Jenna said softly, her voice carrying through the darkness.

  Dexter had to chuckle; she was right, it had been a good kiss. The best he could remember, he supposed. He shook his head to clear it of such flights of fancy. “Aye, it was, but that doesn’t help us much here.”

  Jenna sighed and he suddenly found her hands taking his. “I’m sorry, Captain. I really am. I knew Port Freedom was a dangerous place, I should have told you sooner.”

  Dexter found himself nodding even though he knew she could not see him. Then again, there was something rumored about elves seeing in the dark. “Can you see?”’

  She was silent a moment then laughed harshly. “Sorry, you can’t see me shake my head. No, I cannot see. If there was a faint light then yes, I could see. Without even a spark, I am as blind as you.”

  “How about that story now,” Dexter asked after sighing. “And this time, let’s try it without the kiss.”

  Jenna laughed softly and pulled him by his hands with her until they bumped into a
wall. She slid down it and he went with her, until they were sitting. “Well, I was born Jenna Windchaser, the first daughter of my father, the Emperor of the Elves. My childhood was spent playing and learning with other elves-“

  Dexter chuckled, interrupting her. “I imagine everyone’s childhood is largely the same, you don’t need to share everything with me.”

  “No, I do,” Jenna said. “If you want to understand the Elven Empire – if you want to understand who I am – then you need to hear this too.”

  Dexter nodded, then remembered the darkness that he was already growing accustomed to. “Alright, go on then, I’ll not stop you again.”

  “Elves, as a people, are not bad. Not any more so than humans or dwarves. We love, we hate, we jest, and we grow serious. We grow old and die as well, it just takes a lot longer for us.

  “The long lives we have cause many elves to think of us as better than others. It is not a universal view held by all, but then again, the Empire is not subject to the will of the people, but rather the will of the Emperor.”

  “So what does that have to do with children playing?” Dexter asked when Jenna stopped for a moment.

  “I thought you weren’t going to interrupt me?”

  Dexter chuckled. “Sorry, Captain’s prerogative.”

  Jenna snorted, mostly amused but partially annoyed. “Well, my playmates were not entirely elves. I also played with other races. Lesser races, so I was told. They were servants in many cases, outright slaves in others. Some of my crueler kin played with these ‘lesser’ children abusively, and such abuses were either ignored or encouraged.”

  After pausing to let that sink in, Jenna continued. “It never felt right to me, how they were treated. My concern for others was frowned upon though, and discouraged both privately and sometimes publicly. It was my speed and grace that brought pride enough to my family to keep from hiding me. I excelled at everything I did, from dancing to training with weapons.

  “It was that training that finally caused me to cross the line,” Jenna said with a heavy voice. “I learned from elves, but often sparred with non-elves, and was encouraged to not hold back while practicing against them. One regular sparring partner, a gifted human, was chosen to be my opponent for my final bout that would graduate me from being an apprentice. They made me fight him without reservation or inhibition, and he was made to do the same. Had he defeated me, he would have been beaten and killed for it. Instead I defeated him, and his blood is on my hands.”

  “Blood… you mean you had to kill him?” Dexter asked her.

  Jenna sniffed and cleared her throat before continuing. “Yes, I killed him.”

  She squeezed his hands for comfort then continued. “I made a vow then and there to not become like my father and the other members of court. I made some inquiries about a resistance movement within the Empire, and soon enough met a few of them. Once they understood I was genuine, they took me in and used me to filter secrets from the state to them. This allowed them to plan raids and to smuggle slaves out of the empire to freedom. With my assistance they became a force to be reckoned with. Instead of a mere nuisance they ranked as an item on my father’s agenda.”

  “A spy that worked his way up through their ranks found me out and turned me in, which set up another plot my father used. Unwittingly, I was used as bait and assisted in the capture of the leaders of the resistance. It was then that I learned that the birthmark I showed you could be used by the elven wizards to track me.

  “Because I was family, and because I had ‘helped’ to end the resistance, my father only banished me from the Empire when I refused to recant my ways before him. I was stripped of rank, title, rights, possessions, and even my garments. They dragged me away from him and I was beaten and abused throughout the voyage to this very place, Port Freedom. Were I not so highborn, I expect much more than a mere beating would have taken place.

  “Here I was to be sold as a slave, never to enter again into Elven space, but one of the people I had helped to escape in the past caught sight of me and they set up a raid to rescue me.”

  Jenna squeezed Dexter’s hand again, drawing strength from him. “I knew the spies the elves keep here would be replaced, so I did my best to avoid this place at all times. I should have warned you, I suppose, or at least contrived a way to stay aboard the ship.”

  “Wait,” Dexter said, his head swimming at her disclosure, “how did you end up in a federation jail?”

  Jenna laughed sadly. “That’s another story, Captain.”

  “I don’t see anyone telling us to hurry,” Dexter quipped.

  Jenna was silent a moment, making Dexter wonder whether she was deciding what to tell him or not. He opened his mouth to speak again but felt one of her hands leave his and press her lips softly against his lips.

  Then he felt her warm breath against his ear, sending chills down his spine. “Shh, someone comes.”

  Dexter strained anew to see in the darkness, then he strained to listen for anything. He wondered how she could be sure when, a few moments later, he heard something slam solidly against the door to their cell. They both jumped a little at the loud noise, then scrambled to their feet.

  It crashed against it twice more, with the third time being accompanied by the cracking and tearing of wood. The door swung open, letting the dim lighting from the lanterns in the corridor spill in on them and blind them. All they could tell for certain was that three figures were standing there, and that the third one was short.

  “Dex!” Kragor, the short figure, cried out happily.

  “Master!” One of the other, taller, figures said just as happily.

  Blinking furiously as their vision adjusted, they could see Kragor, Keshira, and Rosh staring at them. Dexter was overjoyed to see them, and rushed forward, giving Kragor a hearty slap on the back of gratitude and even going so far as to hug and kiss Keshira.

  “What, don’t I get any thanks?” Rosh asked as Dexter was turning to him.

  Dexter grinned and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek as well. “I was just going to say that, but you earned it,” Dexter said.

  The others laughed, Jenna forgetting the discomfort she had felt when she had watched Dexter embrace Keshira. Rosh just stood there uncertainly, his cheeks flushing red.

  “Captain, we’d better be going, Duballin said they were about ready to take Port Freedom,” Jenna reminded him.

  “Right you are!” Dexter said, reminded of their haste. “Come on, we have to get out of here before the fighting starts.”

  “Too late,” Kragor told him. “It started on our way here. Keshira knew how to find you with her bond to you, so we let her lead us. We were set upon a few times on the way, mostly by strangers or elves. The city watch seemed to recognize us and leave us be.”

  Dexter cursed. “We’ve already wasted too much time, let’s go!”

  They hurried out, Kragor leading the way with his short legs pumping out a pace that was a challenge to follow.

  * * * *

  Duballin burst into the room, having been alerted by the magical wards that had monitored the door of Jenna and Dexter’s escape. He looked around, fists clenched and teeth grinding. “Enough! Release one of the slayers to track her down and be done with her!”

  “And the human?” Krotal asked.

  Duballin shrugged. “Kill him too, though he is no concern.”

  Krotal nodded and hurried out, intent upon doing as Duballin had bid him.

  * * * *

  Dexter and his crew made their way as quickly as they could through the besieged streets. Everywhere people were fighting, running, or trying to hide. Of those that fought, few knew what or who they were fighting, or even if they were friend or foe. Other than a few brief skirmishes that ended with no injuries, they found if they kept to themselves they could usually avoid any troubles.

  Their plan worked fine all the way to the docks. There they discovered some intense pockets of fighting. Several ships were on fire as well, which caused
them all to rush heedlessly through the people milling about the docks. From the side came something small streaking out from the shadows between two buildings towards Jenna.

  Jenna grunted when it collided with her, sending her tumbling to the ground. The others pulled up short and stared in shock at the chaotic arrangement of flying hair and limbs. The elf was unable to counter the strength of the thing that had her, but did manage to keep the gnashing teeth from biting into her tender throat. The nails of the creature sent against her dug into her arms, making blood flow down her skin freely.

  Jenna managed to roll over so that she was on the ground and her attacker was atop her. They remained in this position, straining against one another, long enough for them to get a good look at their attacker. She was barely more than a young girl herself. Lithe to the point of being scrawny, her dark hair and somewhat elfin features made her beautiful, even if she had a look of hatred upon her face at the moment.

  Rosh waded in, grabbing the girl around one arm and wrapping his hand behind her neck. His other hand grabbed her about the waist, pinning her other arm to it. He pulled her free from Jenna and held her easily while she struggled against him.

  “Thanks Rosh,” Jenna said, putting pressure against the worst of the holes in her upper arm as she rose to her feet. She turned to the thrashing girl and stared at her, trying to figure out why she had attacked her.

  “Who are you?” Jenna demanded.

  The girl just hissed and snapped at her. Jenna frowned and looked to Dexter. Dexter was just as curious, but he suspected that letting her loose would just have her attacking Jenna again. She seemed to possess no interest in anyone else.

  “Bring her, we’ll deal with her later,” Dexter said, already turning towards where the Voidhawk was docked. They followed, Rosh holding the thrashing girl away from anyone or anything that she struggled to get to.