by Karen Garvin
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Dedication
Wings Over Staria - JC Rock
Hekatite - Karen Garvin
Heart of the Matter - Michelle Schad
Freedom for a Foster - Cathryn Leigh
Acknowledgments
About the Authors
Other Books
Copyright © 2017 by Corrugated Sky Publishing, LLC
Copyright © 2017 by the individual authors: JC Rock, Karen Garvin, Michelle Schad, and Cathryn Leigh
All rights reserved. No part of this body of work may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author(s), except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.
The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the authors nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the inforamtion contained in this book.
This is a work of fiction. All person, places, and events in this book are ficticious and any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is entirely coincidental.
Cover design: Michelle Schad
Interior design: Karen Garvin
Illustrations by: Christian Schad
Dedication
For my grandbabies, River and Harlan
— JC Rock
For Ben, who never tells me
that I can’t do something
— Karen Garvin
To the dreamers, creators, and mad scientists
that live in my house. For the questions that are
always asked, and for the persistence
that I have the power to answer them all
without speaking a single word.
— Michelle Schad
For Protagonize
— Cathryn Leigh
JC Rock
CHAPTER ONE
Mary Stewart walked into the cramped room and pushed the door closed behind her, locked it, and started unbuttoning the heavy bustle dress she wore, eager to be free of the weighty, constraining fabric. Her mother would have made her stay in it all afternoon if she hadn't managed to sneak away while everyone else watched the juggling act. She slipped free of the dress and pulled on some comfortable and familiar suede pants with a knit pullover, then examined herself in the full-length mirror mounted on the back of the door.
Mary didn't like the way her mother had done her hair so she swept it back into a loose ponytail, something much more fitting of a twelve-year-old girl on holiday. She started to take off the small locket around her neck, but decided to keep it, tucking it, instead, under her shirt. She liked to keep her baby sister Beatrice close. Mary still didn't know why Beatrice was left behind. Beatrice was ten after all; there were lots of children on the ship the same age,some were even younger. Her mother was getting tired of Mary's complaints about the subject.
Mary plopped down on a stool at the end of the bed and slid on a pair of leather boots. She was still breaking them in and they hurt her feet, but they were so pretty with their silver bands and bits of tortoise shell embellishing the sides. She stood and stomped her heels down into the stiff boots, pleased with the tinkling sound the small silver chains wrapped around the heels made.
The ship listed to the side and Mary had to catch herself against the dresser. This had been a constant thing, and not the least bit enjoyable to her. She'd wondered since everyone boarded why people even took cruises in the first place. There was little room to play, and no one seemed to want to do so anyway. All the older people did was sit around, and eat and drink, and talk about things that were happening back home. They could have done all of that at home, and Mary would have had the massive backyard for her and Beatrice to play in.
Mary waited for the ship to right itself, then opened the door. A porter glared at her when she stepped into the hall like she was some bug under inspection. Children seemed to be an unwelcome thing on the ship. She smiled and waited until he passed around the corner, then rushed for the stairs.
Once on the upper deck, Mary stepped into the sunshine, letting it splash across her face. She had the whole deck to herself. With a bit of imagination, she could pretend the whole ship was empty of everyone but her. She wondered why everyone preferred the closed-in spaces below when it was such a wonderful day on deck.
Mary pushed her sleeves up, wondering what game to play. Whatever it was, it was going to be by herself. She'd made several attempts to play with the other children on the cruise, but they all seemed just as bored - and just as boring - as the adults. They preferred eating too much and playing the machine games in the penny arcade. Mary gave them a try too, but they didn't hold her attention for too long at all.
Mary hopped over several deck chairs, chanting, "Boring. Boring. Boring."
She couldn't wait to get home. America had been fun to visit, but she was ready to be home again with her sister. Her father said they were only a couple of a hundred miles away now. It wouldn't come fast enough for Mary.
The sun was strong on the deck, so Mary reached into a pocket and pulled a pair of sunglasses out, marveling at the way the thin blue glass caught the sun. She slipped them on, smiling at the slight blue tint everything had. She bounded toward the front of the ship, intending to stand as far forward as she could, far away from the thumping of the engines down below and the billowing black smoke from the dual smokestacks. It had to be horridly hot and smoky down below where the engines were. Maybe she could get permission to pay a visit. She didn't think her mother would allow that. To Mary it sounded like a perfect chance to get a little dirty. She and Beatrice regularly got into trouble back home, often coming in covered head to toe in thick red mud from behind the stables. Her mother was definitely anti-dirt.
Mary ran down the aisle, jumping the deck chairs like the hurdles she'd seen when the whole family went to the athletic games in London. She darted around the swimming pool, wondering why no one was there. Then she remembered the magic show in the auditorium. Mary didn't think that would be very fun either, no more so than the jugglers that everyone marveled at. A meal and a show, that's all anyone seemed interested in. Everyone else seemed excited by the magic show. There was an escape artist from America performing some trick or other.
Mary jumped over a few more deck chairs.
"Boring. Boring. Boring," She muttered again.
Mary grabbed a broom from the corner of the storage bay and brandished it like a sword, beating back pirates that only she could see. Until someone coughed behind her.
"Miss? I'd ask you not to break my broom. I have cleaning up to do before the show is over." The woman smiled at her.
Mary handed the broom back sheepishly, then watched the old woman disappear behind a door that led down into the ship.
The ship leaned again, and Mary had to grab onto a railing. The seas were growing rough. It looked like a storm was coming. She could see dark skies gathering on the horizon. Storms came up so quick on the ocean; if she was going to see the front of the ship before it rained, she'd better hurry.
Mary jumped another pair of deck chairs, barely nicking one of them and it clattered over. She glanced around to see if anyone had noticed as she righted the chair. She stepped to a more open area and rushed to the front, a bit disappointed. Ropes and other mooring items filled the bow so she
couldn't get all the way forward. Not a problem.
Mary climbed over the thick rope, catching her foot briefly in its coils. She climbed over stuff until she got to the front railing and peered over the edge at the bow as it cut through the waves. Mary frowned. She had expected a figurehead to be on the bow, like the ones she had seen on the bows of pirate ships from her picture books, but there was nothing but faded white paint and a bit of heavy chain clanging against a bare metal spot on the ship.
Mary stayed in the bow, watching the world go by until the rain began to sting her face. She thought it funny how one moment it can be sunny, and the next a squall. She squinted into the wind, then glared at the storm. Now she was going to have to go back below decks with the rest of the boring people. Maybe she could find some fresh fruit. Her favorite was pineapple because she thought it was exotic.
Mary turned to head back inside and the ship leaned once again to one side. She grabbed at the railing, hanging on. She felt a vibration travel through the deck. A great rumble echoed from below decks and the whole ship seemed to shudder and lean over even further.
Fire shot from the smoke stacks amidships, and the whole ship rocked again, seeming to groan in pain. Warning klaxons sounded, but only for a few seconds before fading away weakly. Mary wasn't sure what had happened, but knew it couldn't be good at all. She managed to climb over the ropes and other stuff, heading to find her parents. The ship leaned heavily over starboard, so far in fact that the lifeboats attached on that side scraped the water. A wave came and pulled a few of the small craft away from their lashings.
For a few minutes, the ship righted itself and Mary managed to find her footing again. She headed to the stairwell that led down to the auditorium. She had to find her parents and her older sister, Alicia.
Another explosion shook the ship, making it fold in the middle, the bow and stern raised up from the water. The ship buckled, and Mary lost her grip on the railing, sliding toward the edge. She squealed as she slid closer to the edge, her fingers scrabbling at the wood decking. She was so close to the edge her feet dangled over the side.
From somewhere over the noise of the ship dying, Mary could hear screaming, and realized it was the people below-decks.
The back of the ship burned and water splashed over the edge, soaking her. Mary struggled to pull herself away from the edge. Yet another explosion rocked the ship, sending her splashing into the water.
Mary knew how to swim, but with the heavy waves she could barely manage to keep her head above water. Bits of the ship filled the water around her and she had to dodge several sharp looking pieces of wood. She tired too quickly, and knew she needed to find something to help keep herself afloat.
Mary struggled against the waves, trying to get away from the ship as it burned. Her arms grew weak. If Mary didn't find something soon, then she wasn't going to be able to keep herself above the water.
Something bumped her in the back of her head. Mary screamed, gulping in a great mouthful of water. She nearly slipped under the surface of the water, but managed to catch herself. She looked behind and saw a large bit of decking that had been what hit her. She grabbed onto it with both hands and tried to pull herself up. She struggled with it, but her hands kept slipping on the wet wood. Finally, she got the idea to try and slip her leg up first for leverage.
It took long minutes for Mary to finally scramble up on the bit of decking. She lay there shivering on the makeshift raft, numb from the cold. She could barely lift her head to see the final demise of the ship.
Bits of the hull were still intact, but massive holes allowed the sea water to rush in. Bodies floated everywhere around her. Mary didn't see anyone else that seemed to have made it out alive. She prayed her parents and sister were on the other side of the ship.
That hope went away as the bow of the ship dipped into the water and the whole ship spun around. The stern came close to knocking Mary from the bit of decking, and the massive propeller still turned slightly as it slipped back under the water. She saw the name of the ship scrawled across the back as it slipped under, and had to laugh at the absurdity of it: 'The Sainted Mary'.
Mary sat up on the decking, being careful not to rock it too badly. She didn't think she would be able to pick herself up again if she fell back into the water. Debris and bodies floated everywhere, but she didn't see another living soul. No sign of her parents or sister. No sign of anyone that still drew breath.
Mary couldn't stop shivering. She sat there, tears streaming down her face. She found herself lost in the middle of the ocean, with nothing and no one to help her. The storm that had raged just minutes before, passed by as if it had never been there. The sea calmed.
Mary saw a book floating by and grabbed at it. It was a Bible like the one she had seen in the drawer of her nightstand. She didn't really believe in God, but held on to the Bible with all the strength she had left. Maybe God was real, who’s to say. If He was, why wasn't He helping her? She couldn't imagine any god that would take away a little girl's family the way He had. She lay back on the decking to close her eyes and cry, only for a minute.
CHAPTER TWO
Mary woke, her head throbbing. Even through closed eyelids the sun hurt her eyes. Mary lay there, trying to make out what was going on. She lay on her back, that much she knew. Sand? She was on a beach. How had she ended up there? The shipwreck. She'd been in a shipwreck. That much she could remember. She forced her eyes open, wincing at the bright sun.
Bright blue sky greeted her, mocking her with its cheeriness. How long had it been since the storm? Mary couldn't be sure. Her hearing was muffled, but she thought she could hear a distant screaming. She tried to move, but every muscle in her body ached. She groaned, her throat felt like sandpaper mixed with turpentine.
Movement in the sky caught Mary's attention. She saw several birds floating on the wind high above, too far to make out. Buzzards?
After another minute Mary managed to sit up and look around. She sat on a long white sand beach, with the ocean waves lapping gently at her feet. She pulled her feet back and slipped her boots off, then her soaked socks. She hated wet feet.
Mary looked one way up the beach and saw burning bits of wreckage from the ship dotting the beach. She also saw a few bodies, all lying face down in the sand. The other direction was the same. Mary heard the screams again and tried to stand, but her legs felt like jelly and she sat down heavily. She glanced up at the buzzards again. Ever circling.
"I'm not dead yet!" Mary yelled at them, shaking a balled fist in the air. "Go someplace else."
Something about the birds didn't look quite right, but her eyes were so blurry and dazzled by the sun she couldn't make out what it was.
Mary tried to crawl in the direction of the woman's screams, but her knee gave out. She'd twisted her knee once, jumping from a tree that was perhaps a bit too high. This felt like it did then.
"I'm coming," Mary hollered to the woman.
Mary tried crawling again, using her good knee. In the wet sand, she made little progress one-legged. If she was going to help the woman, she was going to have to endure a little pain.
Mary bent the bad knee and screamed. She thought she was going to pass out from the pain. Did people do that? There was no way Mary could get to the woman.
A shadow passed over her and her blood froze. Had the buzzards finally decided she would make a tasty snack?
Mary looked up and her jaw dropped open, staring dumbly at the flying figures. It wasn't birds that circled around, it was men. With wings. It wasn't like the aero-planes she'd seen on display on the long fields at Dorset. These were men, with the wings strapped directly on their back. Mary watched their movements across the sky as they dipped lower and lower. The wings caught the sunlight, dazzling her eyes with tiny bits of reflected light.
The first of the men landed and the metal wings folded almost immediately into a neat little bundle on his back. He reached for a small canister mounted on the side of a belt he wore and dashed
to the closest of the fires. When he aimed the end of the canister at the fire and depressed a small knob on it, a great jet of liquid shot out, dousing the flames and the bits of debris. It took only seconds for the fire to be extinguished and then he moved on to the next.
Mary became aware of others landing near her. Two of the men grabbed similar canisters and rushed off to other fires, yelling something she couldn't quite make out. They worked their way down the beach, putting out the flames.
Mary looked around for the other man and found him standing right beside her, hands on hips and a wide smile on his face.
"What do we have here?" the man asked. A thick red mustache twitched under his nose. He squatted down in the sand beside her. "Don't be afraid, little one. I know I may be big and mean looking, but I'm really a teddy bear once you get to know me. At least, that's what my wife tells me."
Mary smiled at him despite her fear. There was just something about the soft way he spoke, and the redness of his mustache.
When the man slid the brass goggles he wore up onto the top of his head, Mary could see just how blue his eyes were. She thought they rivaled the sky itself.
"I'm Roland," the massive man said. He held out a hand. "And who might you be?"
Mary took his hand and he raised her up, though she winced when her knee twisted again. "Mary Stewart. Where am I?"
Mary was always told she was quite tall for her age, but standing next to Roland she felt dwarfed, barely reaching the man's navel. She had never felt so small in all her life. She shivered in her damp clothes.
"Well Mary, this is the island of Staria. And just how did you find your way here?"
Mary started to speak, but stopped. What had happened? Her memory of it all was still fuzzy. "I think there was an explosion on the boat. Please, I heard a woman screaming, over there."