Voidhawk

by Halstead, Jason

  Rosh looked at Bekka, his eyes fierce. She nodded wordlessly and he turned. “Yeah, just got tired.”

  “Come on down here, I need some company,” she said.

  Rosh grinned in spite of himself. “Why don’t you come up here?” He offered.

  Willa pouted from the deck. “We’ve spent enough time on that smelly boat, don’t you want to feel real ground under your feet?”

  To Rosh the words she spoke sounded strange. He looked around at the Voidhawk, conscious of the smell as he did so. “The ‘Hawk don’t stink,” he said.

  Willa giggled. “Maybe not, but there’s so much more room down here! Please?”

  Rosh sighed and shrugged. He stepped onto the plank and walked back to her.

  “Why’d you leave the party?”

  Rosh shrugged, “Didn’t want no trouble. Not with Jenna winning that contest and all.”

  “Wow, can you believe that?” Willa asked, the alcohol making her easily distracted and a little flighty. Rosh could not help but chuckle and find her cute because of it.

  “Yeah, looks like the ‘Hawk’ll be needing a new mate,” he said.

  Willa made a strange face, but let the comment drop. After a few moments of silence while they walked to nowhere in particular she asked, “Who was that man, Rosh?”

  The Arms Master shrugged. “I ain’t for knowing.”

  “What about the man he mentioned… Jaspar Highsail? Do you know him?”

  Rosh paused, coming to a stop. He turned to look at her and she did the same, a smile on her face. “You’re drunk,” he accused her.

  She giggled a little and nodded. She held up her arm, bringing the stump into the dim light from the nearby town’s lanterns. “You played a part in saving my life twice,” she said softly. “First time you held me and cut my hand off. It was ruined and poisoning me, killing me slow.”

  She reached up with her other hand and gently caressed his cheek, feeling the stubble that had grown over the course of the day. “The second time was when you kept me from falling off the Voidhawk. I’ve been wanting to thank you, wanting to show you how much I appreciate you, but I’ve been afraid.”

  “’Fraid of what?” he asked, his voice deep but also soft and drawn.

  “Afraid of rejection, maybe,” she said, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “You’re right, I’m drunk,” she admitted. “So I don’t know better than to tell you all this. You’re my lifeline – you keep me going, Rosh. I felt worthless losing my hand, but then you saved me anyhow. You don’t care that I only got one hand. You still treat me special.”

  “I’m afraid if you don’t have the feelings for me I got for you… well, I’m afraid that’ll mean I don’t matter.”

  She opened her mouth to say more but Rosh had heard enough. She was a wisp of a thing compared to him and picking her up was easy. His mouth closed on hers and she moaned breathlessly as he crushed her to him.

  * * * *

  With the new Lord chosen The festival ended. Logan, Jodyne, and Bailynn returned to the Voidhawk much as the town’s folk made their way back to their homes. As soon as they arrived an agitated Bekka asked for them to stay and keep an eye on things, then she slipped into the darkness of the night with nary an explanation. The others, tired from their recreation and also with strange thoughts in their heads, put little mind to her behavior.

  Bekka slipped through the town, finding it strangely quiet, even for such a late hour. She moved on and came across Keshira, who stood silent watch like a sentinel. She pulled up short, surprised at the pleasure golem’s presence, then nodded to her.

  “Keshira, do you know where Dexter is?” she asked. “And Jenna?”

  Keshira looked at her and smiled, which further set Bekka back. “The Captain searches for Jenna at the tower.”

  Bekka nodded and started towards it. She stopped and looked back at Keshira oddly. “Why do you stand there?”

  “The Captain asked me to,” she responded. “He told me it was okay to smile.”

  Bekka had to admit the woman had a beautiful smile, no matter how confusing her statement was. She nodded and mumbled something about that being good, then hurried away.

  Arriving at the base of the tower she found Dexter sitting on a rock and staring at it morosely. She walked quietly beside him and stood there silently for several long moments before he glanced up at her. He looked angry and unhappy, perhaps even miserable.

  Bekka opened her mouth, then closed it. She had meant to berate him, but thought better of it upon seeing him. “Tell me about it,” she said, dropping to her knees beside him.

  Dexter looked at her and cracked a humorless smile. “Too much to tell,” he said. “Besides, there’d be no mystery about me then.”

  Bekka smiled. “Then tell me why you’re sitting on a rock outside of a tower?”

  “Long story,” Dexter said. “And I’m hoping I won’t have time to tell it all.”

  “Why not?”

  “I reckon if a door don’t open soon in that tower, I’ll go find Rosh and have him make me one,” Dexter explained.

  Bekka glanced at it and, true enough, she saw nothing but smooth stone about the base. She did not walk around it, as Dexter surely had, but she took his word for it. “Powerful magic,” she whispered.

  Dexter shrugged.

  “Why did you deny her?” Bekka asked him.

  “Deny her?” Dexter asked, confused and panicked at the same time.

  “You showed her love and then took it from her.”

  Dexter looked at Bekka for a long moment, realizing that somehow she knew. Odds are they all did – he wondered how long they had known. The Captain just sighed and shook his head.

  “Been a long night, Bekka,” he said by way of begging off any explanations. “We all do the wrong thing at times; I’m here to fix that.”

  Bekka nodded, accepting that she would get nothing else from him. Truly, it was not her place to demand more. She cared for him though, as a friend and a brother – neither of which she had truly had. Likewise she cared for Jenna and the others of his crew, though it seemed in peril of being sundered.

  “Keshira told me something,” she mentioned a moment later. “She said you told her it was okay to smile.”

  Dexter found himself smiling at the words, and tried to feel for the connection to the pleasure golem. He could not make it, whether it was the distance or perhaps because he was too tired and distraught to concentrate properly he was not sure. “Aye, there’s never a day that can’t be made better with a smile.”

  “Especially from a beauty like her,” Bekka offered.

  Dexter laughed and looked at her, surprised. “First you tell me you’re interested in Jenna, now Keshira? Got no love in you for a strong man?”

  Bekka shrugged and smiled. “I never said that,” she answered noncommittally.

  “Captain,” she continued a moment later, before he would explore her sexuality any further. “Something Rosh said earlier when he returned to the ship – and how the others acted. I paid it no heed at the time, but now I’m wondering.”

  “What’d Rosh say?” Dexter asked, assuming the worse.

  “He said the others were looking like they were thinking of staying,” replied Bekka.

  Dexter sighed. “It’s a beautiful little rock, I’ll admit,” he said. “I’ll not stop anyone that wants to. We’ve flown shorthanded before.”

  “It is nice here,” Bekka admitted, looking around. “And now I hear Jenna’s in charge.”

  Dexter nodded but said nothing. “Think you could pick up some fresh deckhands here?”

  “Rosh say he wanted to stay too?” Dexter asked.

  Bekka shook her head. “No… but Willa might be changing his mind.”

  Dexter’s eyes went up in mild surprise. “I won’t stand in their way,” he said. “Didn’t figure him for the settling down type though. Funny things a woman can do to a man.”

  He looked at Bekka and smiled. “Or a woman.”<
br />
  Bekka’s eyes narrowed slightly at the jibe, but she otherwise ignored it.

  “Well, I’d best hurry about getting some help to poke a hole in this tower then, while Rosh still listens to what I tell him.”

  Bekka nodded and rose to follow Dexter as he walked with a purpose down the hill the tower sat upon back towards the Voidhawk.

  * * * *

  Jenna watched from inside the tower, staring passively at the vision upon the walls around her. She could see everywhere on the small rock with merely a thought, though at the present she could not help but be dismayed that Dexter and Bekka left her behind.

  That part was a small part hidden within herself; the rest of her watched silently from her chair. She watched and she learned, listening to the persistent voice of the former Lord of Deepingdale. He was old and resting upon a cushioned bed some distance away. His skin wrinkled and mottled with age, his chest had been barely moving for several hours. Now all that remained was the voice that she heard within her head, whispering to her promises of rewards and luxuries she had never dreamt of.

  She would be accepted and have people of her own – people that would call her friend for who she was, not who they wanted her to be. She could have the love of any man she wanted, simply with a gesture and a look. All of Deepingdale was to be hers for the taking, all she had to do was to give in to the voices and let them teach her the things only it could teach her.

  Watching Dexter leave she had felt another piece of her heart crumble. A tear slid down her cheek. Jenna turned inward, listening more earnestly to the voice.

  * * * *

  “Where’s Rosh?” Dexter asked as he strode up the deck. Keshira and Bekka were behind him, following closely.

  Logan shrugged from where he was writing something in a journal he had taken to keeping. “Haven’t seen him,” he said. “Willa neither, for what it’s worth.”

  Dexter frowned. After a moment he shrugged and headed below deck, barging into Rosh’s quarters without bothering to knock. The man was not there, as expected, but the spare weapons were. He grabbed several bags of fire powder and handed them to Bekka and Keshira. Logan had followed them downstairs, and given the ruckus he was making outside of the crew quarters, Bailynn soon joined them.

  By the time he had started back up the stairs, Jodyne had emerged as well. She looked on, confused, at the heavily armed profession that passed her by. Dexter called down to her to mind the ship while they were out, and she could only nod and roll her eyes at what she expected to be more trouble. She thought to wake Xander, but decided to let the wizard rest; he was a bit peculiar for her tastes.

  It made her sigh with longing for her lost husband. She had no doubt Kragor would have been right at Dexter’s side for whatever mischief he had planned. Unknown behind her, the ghost of her partner watched with a smile and a nod as the crew departed.

  They trooped back to the tower, the hour growing so late the sky was lightening though the sun was distant. More proof of the magic of the Lord of the tower.

  Dexter laid out his plans when they got there. Still no portal allowed them entrance, so he stacked sacks of powder about it, intent upon making one. It was only after he finished with it that he poured a line of the powder to where they hid; some dozens of feet away and behind a swell in the ground.

  Bekka used a touch of her magic and they all watched expectantly. The flame leapt from her finger to the powder, but it did not ignite. She looked up to Dexter, surprised, and tried again. The second and third time it continued to fail to light.

  Eye’s wide, Dexter drew his pistol and pointed it at the makeshift fuse. He pulled the trigger and was left stunned by the lack of a report from the weapon. It stayed silent and still in his hand.

  “More magic,” Bekka wagered. “The powder won’t light.”

  “Captain, why are we here?” Logan asked, his curiosity reaching the breaking point. “I thought Jenna went of her own will.”

  “Aye, she did,” Dexter said offhandedly. “I mean to have her back.”

  Logan and Bailynn shared a look. Logan seemed surprised, Bailynn suspicious. “You’re not releasing her from service?”

  “This ain’t about service,” Dexter said, staring at the tower. He cursed and looked back at them. “I’m not of a mind to share my thoughts, you can go back to the Hawk if you want, or wherever you feel like. I got something that needs doing and I mean to see it done.”

  Nobody got up to leave, but Dexter had already dismissed them. He stared at the tower and then turned to Keshira. “I won’t order it, there be magic in that tower and I don’t know what it can do, but I’ll ask it. Can you break a hole in that wall?”

  Keshira studied the wall very briefly then nodded. “I believe I can, Captain.”

  “I learned better tonight, so I’m asking you, will you try it?”

  Keshira smiled again, dazzling them with her beauty. “Yes, Captain, I will.”

  Bekka looked at Dexter quizzically, but he ignored her. She meant to have a long talk with the man when this was all done. Meanwhile, Keshira led them back to the base of the tower. Dexter and Logan pulled the powder sacks away from it while Keshira looked for a weakness. Finding nothing, she set to slamming her fists into it, sending vibrations through the ground with each forceful thud.

  It seemed a pointless task, but after a dozen blows had landed a crack appeared upon a block of stone in the wall. Another followed soon after, and then she truly made progress with the destruction of the wall.

  By the time she had reduced a pair of stones to rubble, nearly enough room for Dexter to climb through, Constable Lorren shouted at them from the road to town. He hurried up to them and demanded that they stop, insisting they tell him what this was all about.

  “Know a better way in?” Dexter asked him.

  “What? Why?” The constable asked. “The tower accepts supplicants when the Lord of Deepingdale wishes it.”

  “That’s not going to do it,” Dexter said. He focused on the constable and addressed him directly. “You seem a good man, but there’s one of you to all of us. Them’s not the kind of odds that lead to sharing stories with your grandkids.”

  The constable gaped, mouth flapping like a fish out of water. He looked back and forth, and saw to a man they all looked deadly serious. Keshira continued to pound, breaking off parts of another block and clearing it out.

  “Why is Jenna not responding to us?” Bekka asked him, stepping closer. “We are her friends.”

  The constable, able to focus on something, blinked and nodded. “Please, please stop – I’ll tell you what I can.”

  Dexter narrowed his eyes but, after a minute, nodded and turned to tell Keshira to stop. She had already ceased, however, and instead offered him a knowing smile that he nearly laughed at, in spite of the situation. He turned and nodded to the constable to continue.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking a moment to wipe his brow with a rag he produced from his pocket.

  “I was a boy serving as a cook’s monkey on a ship that came here,” he said. “The captain became the new lord – and after a few years I was given the job of constable.”

  “Does every new arrival end up changing the Lord?” Logan said, interrupting with his question.

  “No,” Lorren said, surprised at the question. “It always signals a festival, but at times the newcomers are not found worthy.”

  “My captain is the Lord that is turning over his duty to your friend. You will find her different as she accepts her responsibilities.”

  Dexter growled. “I don’t want her different – she’s my first mate, there’s no call for her to be tied to this place.”

  “Did you not have dreams of what being Lord here would be like?” Lorren asked him.

  Dexter opened his mouth to retort, but remained silent. He scowled. “Every man dreams,” he said at length. “And every man lives a life as best he can in spite of his dreams.”

  Lorren sighed. “Well spoken, Captain – but i
t is too late. She put on the amulet and, as I recall, that signals the ascension to the position.”

  “Aw hell,” Dexter swore. “That’s a load of voidrat dung! Constable, I’m going into that tower and I’m getting Jenna back.”

  “I can’t stop you, Captain,” Lorren admitted. “By the time I could raise some men to come here, you’ll be inside.”

  “Some friendly advice,” he offered with a resigned tone. “When you stand before her and find you can’t see your friend there anymore, ask yourself if such a fate is truly a curse.”

  The constable stood a moment longer, then walked off back towards the town. Keshira resumed ripping out the loosened block from the tower. Dexter turned to the tower as well, while the others stared thoughtfully at the constable.

  * * * *

  “Who was that old man at the festival?” Willa lay next to Rosh, using his shoulder as a pillow and running her fingers through the hair on his chest. She looked up at him and smiled, and he found her grin infectious.

  Disarmed by her smile, Rosh could only half shrug. “Some crazy old man, I ain’t never seen him before.”

  “What about Jasper Highsail?”

  Rosh let his head fall back. He stared up at the stars above them, thinking. “Ain’t that funny,” he said, somewhat surprised. “I ain’t got the itch to get up there like normal.”

  “I spend too much time in one place and it starts this itch in my neck. I got to move – keep going and find something new,” he explained to her. “This time I ain’t getting that. It’s like I’m happy here.”