Voidhawk

by Halstead, Jason

  The ship rocked as they slammed against the hull. Some tried to climb the struts, something no one had considered. They were part of the hull and did not come up to the edge of the deck, however, a reckless bit of balancing and stretching would allow someone to reach the railing from the struts. Reckless and uncaring of their own safety, the ghouls had to be struck away from the struts as they reached for fresh prey.

  “Set sail!” Dexter yelled, praying that Willa was not so caught up in the new sensations that she would fail to hear his order below. His fears were unfounded as, a moment later, the Voidhawk lurched beneath them and rose into the air slowly.

  “Now!” Dexter called out, throwing his own cask to the ground.

  Jodyne and Bailynn did likewise, while Logan, Rosh, Keshira, and Aidan were busy at clearing each strut. Jenna stayed ready to leap to the aid of anyone who would need it, and found herself rushing forward at one point to assist Aidan as his sword caught in the ribs of a former soldier that tried to scramble aboard.

  Flames leapt up below them, sparking up immediately as soon as the casks cracked and allowed fresh air into the alchemical substance. The flames spread rapidly, igniting the oil in the ground and on the feet and legs of their attackers. It climbed up their clothing and bit into the flesh, chewing away at them and making them growl and hiss angrily as their prey escaped into the air above them.

  A cheer rose up from the crew, one even shared by Dexter. They cleared the tops of the ruins, with no clinging zombies remaining, and saw no movement below them save for those trapped in the flames. Wind caught the sails, stretching and straining them as they were pulled taught. Improperly repaired, they nevertheless held against the lurch of movement the wind inspired.

  “Dex, here they come,” Jodyne said, pointing into the sky.

  Those not working the lines looked up and saw the dark streaks leaving the cloud and heading towards them at a speed that made the wind look like it was standing still. Dexter nodded and looked to Bekka, who was holding some loose canvas.

  “Xander, got anything to slow them down?” Dexter asked, trotting over to the half-elf and taking the bundle of cloth.

  Xander stared for a long minute then nodded. “I can try something,” he mumbled, then hastened up the stern castle himself and reached into his pockets for spell components. Dexter nodded, trusting the man to buy him the time he needed.

  Dexter did not spare a glance from his task of tying a rope through several loops in the canvas until he heard a great whooshing noise above him. He looked and had to admit a moment of awe. A sheet of flames sprang up and fanned out in mid-air. It forced the elemental guardians to retreat and go around it, or at least wait until it subsided a few moments later. Either way, it gained the Voidhawk precious time to slip further away and gained both speed and altitude.

  Dexter tied his last knot and tested it. Feeling confident but nervous, he stood up with the canvas hanging from the rope he held in his hands. He spun it, lifting it off the deck, and continued to spin faster and faster to help him get it higher. Finally ready, he gave it a final surge of strength and sent it up above him and off the bow of the ship.

  The bundle of canvas started to open, coming loose with the release of the tension of the ropes. Dexter squatted down and grabbed a thinner rope he tied to it, grimacing as it burned his hands. He pulled it taught, springing the bundle open and catching the wind. Bekka had sewn together a crude kite to act as an extra sail for them. It was only good when the wind was behind them and they were running in a straight line, but it promised some extra speed.

  Dexter hurried back to oversee the pursuit. Xander slumped against the railing, watching the pursuing mist devils through glazed eyes. Dexter grabbed his robes and yanked him away from the railing, not being gentle but also keeping the man from accidentally toppling over the railing. He watched their pursuers close the distance slower than he had expected. His hand flexed repeatedly against the sword at his side until, with little over a hundred yards separating them, the spirits gave up the chase. They slowed and halted, retreating back to reform a cloud over the ruins.

  Dexter stared for a long minute, amazed and stunned by their turn of fortune. He chuckled, and then laughed harder and louder. Xander roused from his fatigue induced stupor enough to see the situation and speak about it.

  “They only guard the ruins, we got far enough away to no longer be perceived as a threat,” he mumbled.

  Dexter shrugged, just happy to be alive. He clapped the wizard on the shoulder and left him to lie upon the stern castle. The Captain hurried down to the main deck and announced the good news. Everyone cheered and congratulated each other, even the typically somber Jodyne seemed in a good mood by their harrowing escape. Of those gathered, only Jenna seemed troubled.

  Dexter saw her expression and his grin faded. “Jenna, we’ve escaped! What’s wrong?”

  Tears ran from her eyes. She reached down to her leg and pulled on her leather leggings, revealing a tear in them and beneath, the bloody scrape in her thigh. Dexter’s heart missed a beat at the realization that he was holding his pistol and that it pointed at her.

  It was impossible. They had escaped! Now another of his crew was struck down. And not just any, but his first mate. His Jenna. His…

  “How?” he whispered. Around them the cheering stopped and only Keshira paid attention to the rigging.

  “When I helped Aidan,” she said through a throat choked with emotion.

  Dexter nodded and fought back the urge to shout in rage at her for not being more careful. He turned to Bekka, who looked on fearfully and sadly from a distance away. “How long?”

  Bekka shrugged helplessly. “Minutes, maybe,” she said sadly.

  Dexter looked back to Jenna and found his hand shaking. Angrily he clenched his teeth and tightened his fist.

  “Dex,” Jenna said, her voice pleading. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head, unwilling to hear it. She was strong, damn it. He would not let her break down, not like this and not now. He opened his mouth to bid her farewell.

  “I’m sorry I let you down,” she said. She stared at him, her eyes blurred with tears, and then closed her eyes and bowed her head. “Do it. Don’t let me end up like them.”

  Dexter nodded and fought back the urge to reach out to her. To touch her one last time. He railed at himself for not touching her before, when she had offered so many times.

  The Captain pulled the hammer back on the pistol and simultaneously locked his emotions away inside. He steadied his gun and took a breath, then squeezed the trigger…

  * * * *

  Aidan worked his way through the camp, a cloak with a cowl over his head protecting him from the rain that came in gusts and sheets. It also served to disguise him as he threaded his way through to General Havamyr’s tent. The guards outside of it saluted him when he arrived and identified himself. They had not been told to never expect to see him again and thus knew no better. His mission had been secret, known only to himself and the General. Aidan now realized that it had only truly been known to the general.

  He slipped inside and saw Havamyr working silently while a naked slave girl waited on several furs set up for him. It appeared he was near to retiring for the night, and she was to be his entertainment. The general looked up, surprised at the interruption. His surprise only increased when he saw Aidan throw back his hood and stare at him.

  “Aidan!” He said, shocked.

  “My men are not expendable,” Aidan spat at him. “They died for your sick pleasure.”

  “Wait a moment!” Havamyr snapped, coming to his feet and rallying quickly. “They died so that fewer of my men – our men would suffer!”

  “Not our men, yours. Safe, behind traps, siege weapons, and defenses.”

  “Our men,” The general said quickly. “Taking such risks and surviving such an important mission, you deserve to be rewarded. I need an aid, a second in command. A field promotion to colonel for your bravery.”

 
Aidan’s expression softened slightly at the bribe, giving the general hope. “I was rescued by the Voidhawk. They saw the danger we faced and came in to save us. They showed bravery. Captain Silvercloud’s crew showed me the true value of life. Every one of them risked their lives for each other… even when death seemed unavoidable.”

  “The life of all men is not worth more than the life of one,” he said, drawing a pistol he had been given by Rosh from the ship’s stores.

  “Even now they have set sail and are leaving this world behind with stores of goods I have given them from your supply tents. Never again will you have their help; you do not deserve it.” Aidan glanced at the slave girl and saw her cowering behind a chest, pretending to hide.

  He looked back to Havamyr, who had not moved so stunned was he by his subordinates change of allegiance. “You’re a traitor!” He snapped. “I’ll have you flogged publicly and covered in honey then staked out in the sun for the insects and birds to feast upon!”

  “If stopping the madness that weakens our people makes me a traitor, then I wear the title with honor. If fighting back against the cruel dominion of the Azmir is wrong, then I shall never be right again,” Aidan paused and smiled coldly. “If killing you brands me, then I shall shout the price upon my head with pride in every city I enter.”

  Havamyr’s fists clenched in impotent rage. His jaw trembled with anger and his nostrils flared with frenzied breath. Finally he said, “One scream and my guards will be here!”

  “Don’t bother,” Aidan said. “The thunder from this wand will carry further than any scream you could manage.”

  A feral grin upon his face, the former commander squeezed the trigger.

  Chapter 10: The Festival of Lords

  “Where are we bound for?” Xander asked as Dexter and a few of the crew sat around the table eating a meal.

  Rosh snorted. “Don’t matter much,” he muttered, “we ain’t got no money for nothing.”

  “There’s been a foul run of luck,” Jodyne said, setting a bowl of stew in front of Dexter.

  Dexter nodded to her then turned to look at Rosh, “Speak what’s on your mind,” he said, clearly in no mood for the large man’s griping.

  Willa put her good hand on Rosh’s arm, trying to calm him. He ignored her though, and instead stared back at Dexter. “I’m just saying we ain’t been paid in a while,” he said.

  “I know you ain’t no better off,” he added, seeing Dexter’s face darken. He hesitated briefly before starting again. “Maybe that’s just it. Maybe we need something different around here to change our luck.”

  Dexter’s eyes narrowed. He stood up and looked at Rosh; glared at him, actually. “Leave the table and keep your thoughts to your own,” he growled at him.

  Rosh stood up as well, glaring right back. He opened and shut his lips a few times then scowled and grabbed his bowl, slopping some over the side. “You asked,” he mumbled, then turned and stalked off to his cabin.

  Willa watched, her eyes going back and forth between the large man and the captain. She looked torn as to what to do. Dexter closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then turned to the others.

  “Anybody else feeling that way?” he asked them. Only Willa, Xander and Jodyne were present, but they all were quick to shake their heads.

  “Change your mind, feel free to leave at the next port,” he said, then turned to leave with his stew untouched.

  “Captain, where is the next port?” Xander asked again, though in a softer voice.

  Dexter glanced at the wizard and said, “Little out of the way place I found on an old chart, name’s Corona.”

  Xander’s brow creased as he tried to place the name. He had heard of it before, he just could not remember when. Dexter waited a few more seconds for any follow up questions, then headed off to his room.

  * * * *

  “You seem different,” Bailynn said to Logan as they worked some lines on the deck. Keshira was off tending another sail by herself, using her unnatural strength to do the work of two men.

  Logan shrugged, but found himself smiling. “Aye, I am. I never thought I’d be happy to leave my world behind, but up here I can feel free.”

  “Why?” she asked, still confused.

  “You were once cursed and shackled to be a slave, right?” he asked her. She nodded, hiding the shame and the pain the memories brought her. “On Azmir I was cursed as well, and while no man or woman owned me, my actions and thoughts were not always my own.”

  Bailynn nodded. “I think I understand,” she said. “Except I still do not know freedom,” she added.

  “Why not, aren’t you free now? The Captain seems big on that.”

  Bailynn shrugged, pretending what he said had not hurt her. It reminded her that she was not important to the Captain… or any of them, really. She was just a body doing work, like Keshira. They might as well be sails or ropes themselves.

  “Bekka holds the ring they used to control me,” she said, blinking back her tears.

  “Does she… have they ever used it?” he asked, genuinely surprised. His heart went out to the woman, and he actually found his hand on her back.

  She shook her head. “No, the Captain said they never would, unless I lost control of myself and attacked them.”

  “I don’t know your story,” Logan admitted, “but you seem sane enough to me. Why not ask her for it?”

  “She’s supposed to be finding a way to destroy it,” Bailynn said, offering a smile up at Logan as appreciation for his compassion.

  “Well then there’s no reason for you to feel threatened. You’re as free as any of us,” he said.

  She smiled again and nodded, then shrugged. “I guess you’re right… but I feel no different.”

  Logan chuckled warmly. “Well Bailynn, I can think of no better place to be for people like us. We are a danger to our friends and family, and are cast aside because of it. But here,” he said, glancing meaningfully onto the forecastle, “is a place where I think we can safely make new friends and family.”

  “My world places no value on the life of others,” he explained. “But I have seen the Captain show more care and concern in only a short time then I saw in my entire life on Azmir.”

  “You’re talking about her, aren’t you?” Bailynn asked, referring to Jenna.

  He nodded. “Anybody on my world would have cast her aside immediately. Even when Bekka rushed forward to cry out for her.”

  “Our Captain stayed his hand though,” he said, remembering the scene. “He…well, you were there, you saw what happened.”

  Bailynn nodded and glanced up to the forecastle as well. Then a shifting rope pulled at her hand and she had to refocus quickly on their task. They were pulled apart as the ship tacked into the solar wind, and each found themselves lost in their own thoughts and remembrances.

  * * * *

  Bekka had rushed forward, calling out frantically, “Dexter, wait!”

  The Captain hesitated, then did as she bade him, withholding the final pound of pressure that would push the trigger past its release point.

  “Were you scratched or bitten?” Bekka asked her.

  Jenna looked up, trails of tears running down her cheeks. “Was I what? I was scratched. His fingers tore through-‘

  “The curse is spread when they bite,” Bekka said, turning back to Dexter quickly and interrupting the elf.

  His face was one of warring emotions. He refused to look away from Jenna for a long minute, and the elf’s gaze was tied with his own. Finally Dexter ordered her confined in a cargo hold, just in case. Jenna nodded and smiled, hopeful tears now streaming from her eyes. She reached for Bekka’s to hug her, but saw the alarmed expression in the half-elf’s eyes. Crushed, she nodded and walked directly to the hold, with Dexter and a few others following behind.

  It was several hours later when Jenna heard the door to her makeshift cell being opened. She stood away from it, waiting patiently. The door creaked open and Dexter stepped in, his pistol
leading the way. “You itching to take a bite out of me yet?” he asked her.

  She shook her head and fought the urge to run over to him. Dexter shut the door behind him and lowered the hammer on his pistol. Replacing it in his belt, he looked at her and sighed.

  “We’re almost back in the void,” he explained to her. “We’ll do what we can for repairs up there, then head down to drop Aidan off and get off this cursed world.”

  “Will they take him back?” Jenna asked, surprised at Dexter’s chosen topic.

  Dexter shrugged. “I offered him a bunk,” he said. “He said he’s got some things to take care of down there. I’m for thinking he wants to see about changing the way things are done.”

  “That’s a lot of work,” she opined.

  Dexter nodded. “He might be the right man for it though.”

  They lapsed into silence then Dexter looked at her and stepped closer. “How’s your leg?”

  She looked down at her injury. She knew he had something else he wanted to say, but could not yet bring himself to it. “It’s all right. Stings a little, but I’ve had worse.”

  Dexter nodded. “Well good,” he finally said. “I’m glad I didn’t shoot you.”

  Jenna smiled and took a step closer to him. “Me too.”

  “Almost did, you know.”