So Wick remembered Darius but not her? At least, so he pretended. He was quickly earning the top spot on her shit-list. She’d avoid him as much as possible.
A loud clang rang through the narrow space as Wick rolled the hatch closed. The others waited for Holly in the bend that ran along the side of the ship. When she got there, she saw that small windows afforded a view into the bay.
They walked as a group through the ship, finding their way based on common sense and big hand-drawn signs that almost looked like a joke. “This way to the mess hall,” “this way to the bridge,” “please wipe your feet,” and “no loitering,” were just a few they passed. At a juncture with a sign indicating the way to the bridge, they lined up at a ladder that led to a central corridor.
“How did you find this ship, Hols?” Charly asked in a hushed tone before she went up the ladder, her progress echoing easily against the metal.
"I didn't," Holly said. "Darius did. Through that mechanic who's worked on Trip's ship."
The ship was bare bones. Footsteps rang out from the metal flooring. Dark, lushly colored fabrics hung across exposed pipes and conduits and the skeletal bones of the ship. Much of the corridors were lit dimly. It was a larger vessel than the Olavia Apollo, but smaller than a standard freighter. The Benedicat Cor Tuum was clearly designed to haul cargo, but constructed to be light and fast.
“Something about this place makes me feel dirty,” Charly observed quietly as she reached the top of the ladder and stepped into the corridor beside Holly. “But I also kind of like it. There’s something homey about it.”
“Must be the hand-drawn signs that look like a chicken got ahold of some crayons.”
“I bet old One-Eye made them himself,” Charly observed.
“I heard that,” Wick’s voice called up the ladder.
Holly and Charly exchanged a look.
Charly leaned closer. “His hearing must have adapted to compensate for that missing eye.”
“Heard that too,” Wick said.
Holly gave Charly a fierce stare that said ‘Do not say another thing about Wick’. At least, that’s what she meant it to say.
Charly laughed. “Guess this means no gossiping about him.”
“Right you are,” Wick said. “Don’t even think about it.”
Odeon and Shiro soon joined them, and then Wick.
“Coming through,” he said, pushing them aside and squeezing past. His pegleg echoed on the floor as he moved through. “I do have better hearing than you. It’s true. But I also have the second-sight.”
His back was to them as he led the way deeper into the ship.
“I bet he was pointing at his missing eye when he said that,” Charly whispered.
“I was!” Wick called.
“Knock it off, Charly,” Holly finally said.
“He’s not exactly the most personable chap, is he?” Shiro said from behind her.
They had to walk in a single-file line. The pile of scrap metal was giving Holly a new appreciation for Trip’s well-tended ship. Though the Olavia Apollo was much smaller, it was better appointed.
“No, he’s not. But let’s try to get along with him. We’re on their ship.”
“And we’re sure we want to be locked into this journey?” Odeon asked.
“Too late to turn back now,” Holly said. “Everything is in motion.”
“A deal’s a deal,” Wick agreed. “Danielle will be seeing ya now.” He opened a hatch in the middle of the corridor.
Holly looked around to get her bearings. The corridor seemed to bisect the ship, but it was hard to tell since she was so unfamiliar with the vessel. She anticipated getting better at finding her way through it over the next few days.
She swallowed. A few days on a ship. In space. Tension twisted in her gut.
Odeon stood directly behind her. She suddenly felt his hand swallowing her own where it hung by her side, and the swirling pit of anxiety that had been opening in her stomach dissipated. His voice was so soft that only she heard it as he hummed his calm song for her.
The hatch opened, and light from the bridge illuminated the corridor where they’d been standing. A female human looked up from a large chair where she sat on its arm, studying something she held in her hands. The seat was positioned in the middle of the bridge.
The woman stood and spread her arms. “Welcome to my ship! The Benedicat Cor Tuum is your home away from home, a place of refuge and excitement, and it’s mine. If you mess anything up on it, I’ll leave you on a deserted shepherd moon.” Then she bowed.
Shiro gasped quietly. Charly cussed.
Holly frowned. The captain was nothing like she expected. This might have been a mistake.
27
Danielle wore black, form-fitting trousers and boots with a short heel. The matte black tops reached just below her knee. When she straightened from her bow, her dark hair flicked back into place, worn long and flowing over her shoulders. She was imperious and intimidating in her beauty, and the track lights of the bridge glimmered off the white, bedazzled dress coat she wore over her ensemble.
She was, to be succinct, on display.
She grabbed a short staff off her captain’s chair and began walking in tight circles around the small area near the seat.
This was a mistake. Everything about the ship—from Wick to the sparse, unseemly interior of the vessel that would get them close to the zeppelin—was wrong.
Holly gaped at the captain's attire—no self-respecting leader would dress like that. She felt the eyes of her crew on her face, and shut her mouth quickly. Maybe she should have investigated the ship and its crew better before signing up for a dangerous mission with them. But maybe it was all they could ask for—the work wasn't exactly on the up and up.
Suddenly, Wick clanked toward Danielle, that hobble making him look as though he was about to topple. He reached the carpet that surrounded the formal area of the bridge, and the noise of his walk faded.
“Brought them here before showing them their quarters.” Wick looked back at Holly and her team as he stopped a few feet from Danielle. A low chuckle sounded from his chest.
At that moment, it occurred to Holly that no matter what happened now, she detested Wick. She could feel the bodies of her crew stiffen in preparation for a fight, a disturbance of air that sent her own body into readiness.
“It’ll be a short trip. They don’t need quarters. We’ll keep them busy,” Danielle said, waving her staff in dismissal. She glanced between Wick and Holly’s small cluster of friends.
“Whoa, wait, wait.” Holly wondered if the ship was a damn slave-trader or something. “That’s not what we agreed on and we did have an agreement. We haven’t left port. Let us off.”
The woman suddenly threw her hands in the air and let out a laugh—dainty and bawdy at the same time. “I’m kidding! Get in here and meet me. Have a beso, have two, whatever. I’m excited for this trip! Sounds like it’s going to kick ass.”
Holly fumed. What a joke!
This trip was going to be hell. It couldn’t end soon enough.
She let go of Odeon’s hand and marched all the way onto the bridge. In her irritation, she’d almost forgotten the dark panic looming at the fringe of her mind over the impending space travel. It returned, but she was too annoyed to care.
Odeon stuck close to her, while Shiro and Charly moved cautiously a few paces behind them and spread out onto the bridge. Holly was almost certain Danielle had a screw loose, so she moved with one hand on her whip handle, the other gripping the strap of her backpack.
“So, this is my ship. What do you think? Like it? Home away from home. Well, my only home,” Danielle said. She gestured around the bridge with her short staff.
Wick cleared his throat loudly.
“And sometimes I let Chadwick think it’s his,” Danielle conceded. “And it’s the White Witch’s as well. That’s the entire crew.”
“So there is a witch?” Holly raised an eyebrow. “And who is
Chadwick?”
“Yes, a witch, you'll meet her soon. And, you met Chadwick already. The man who led you here? Come over here, Chadwick.”
The man Holly had been calling ‘Wick’ obliged.
“Meet Lucky, my right-hand man. Also known as Chadwick.”
“I thought his name was Wick—” Charly cut off, hearing it as she said it. “Right. Chadwick.”
“I don’t like ‘Chadwick,’” he growled. “The only person who gets away with calling me that is Danielle Le Roi.”
“Doesn’t le roi mean ‘the king’?” Shiro mused, sauntering closer to Holly, holding his cane with both hands.
She checked the rest of the crew and noted their battle-ready postures.
“Yes. Because I’m the king,” Danielle said. She dropped her staff onto her captain’s chair.
Closer now, Holly could see that the chair was made of wood and embedded with gems. It would never be considered a captain’s chair in any sense of the setting or design. No, it was a damn throne. The gems glittered in the track light of the bridge.
“But isn’t a king male?” Shiro continued.
“Was. Past-tense. Eons ago. Yes. But the king was also the number one ruler, so that’s me. That’s why it’s Le Roi, and not Le Reine. I’m number one. There’s no one above me.” Danielle explained herself quickly. “Lucky, go get the witch. Finish the introductions and the departure procedures. I’ll map our course while you show our guests to their quarters.”
Wick stamped off, muttering under his breath.
“Oh dear, I almost hate to ask. Lucky?” Shiro repeated.
“Get it? He’s so unlucky. Lost an eye. Lost his leg. It’s clever,” Danielle said as Wick clomped away, shaking his head. “Wait, before you head off, Lucky. Bring me a piece of chocolate, please,” she requested.
Wick stopped in his tracks, turned, and clanged back. He lifted his pegleg and slammed it down on the seat of Danielle’s throne. She pressed on the wood, and a panel popped open. From within, she drew out a wrapped piece of chocolate.
“Thanks, dear!”
He sighed and closed the panel and marched off.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Charly said, watching from one of the empty consoles where she'd taken a seat.
The hatch behind Wick closed as he left the bridge.
“He loves it.” Danielle opened the chocolate and put it in her mouth. “Trust me.”
“I don’t know what kind of weird shit you’ve got going on with Wick, but it’s disturbing as hell.” Charly shook her head.
“Is he your slave?” Odeon asked.
Danielle laughed. “He wishes.”
“Then what is he?” Holly asked. She didn’t like Wick, but she also didn’t enjoy seeing someone being treated so obviously like a pet.
“You wouldn’t understand. Just know that I saved Lucky from a life of misery. We’re good together. He likes having the leg be useful like that. Now, before Melba gets here, give me the name of the ship we’re intercepting. I’ll find it and plot the course. Time is money!” She clapped her hands.
Danielle went to a freestanding console and began interacting with the display. A holographic image suddenly appeared over the large round surface.
Holly joined her at the console. “The ship is The Golden Eclipse.”
Danielle looked at her, and tapped a finger to her bottom lip, thinking. “Really? That’s your target? A passenger zeppelin?”
“There are no passengers on it. Otherwise, we would have booked passage.”
“Oh, OK, OK. It’s your funeral. Fine. Who am I to question your death wishes? A zeppelin, eh?”
Danielle’s fingers danced over the console as she worked out the distances and a flight course. Images of various ships popped up on the display, as well as the position of Ixion and the other major moons in relation to it. Flight paths appeared as dotted lines, the aetherways blinked into existence like paths of dust, and obstacles that they would encounter along their way flashed bright then dark, then bright again.
“At this rate, it will take us two days. The ship has at least fourteen hours on us,” Danielle said.
“Can you go faster than the zeppelin?”
“Of course! That’s the beauty of the Benedicat Cor Tuum. Did Lucky tell you what it means?” Danielle’s expression brightened as she studied the display.
“No.”
“It means ‘bless your heart.’ Isn’t that damn lovely? My ship is a blessing, on your heart. It’s one of my favorite secrets about the old girl.”
The hatch hissed open, and Lucky re-entered, accompanied by a woman wearing blue robes, with long, white curls flowing over her shoulders.
Holly almost groaned. They’d called her a white witch, but why would that be literal?
The place was bonkers. There was no other way to look at it.
Odeon stared at the new arrival like he was enthralled. Shiro turned from where he stood conversing quietly with Charly, who rose from her seat at the empty console.
The white witch had brought the room to a standstill.
The woman walked straight up to Holly, ignoring the others. She stopped in front of her and held out her hand without touching her, then dramatically closed her eyes. In somber tones, she said, “I see you, at the center of a web, trapped, and yet pulling individual strands. In twenty-four standard hours, you will outwit death.” The woman opened her eyes and in a bright voice said, “It’s possible,” and then moved her hand like she was patting Holly without touching her.
“What the hell just happened?” Charly asked. She was quickly becoming the collective voice of the crew, unabashedly sharing her astonishment at the pit of crazy they’d landed themselves in.
Holly laughed. And yet . . . misgivings pecked at her, crumbling her laughter. What the witch had said disturbed her.
“Everyone, meet Melba. She’s my aunt. A white witch,” Danielle said in a singsong voice. “Isn’t she the best? She’s the best. A fortune-teller. And, this is not a joke—her fortunes often come true!”
“Oh no, no, no. Fortunes are a bad idea,” Shiro said, shaking his head. “Sir Wick, could you show us to our quarters, please, lad?”
“Actually, this is the perfect time for that. Melba will still be here when we depart, and you can all get your fortunes then. The four of you, run off, get situated, and then report back to the bridge for departure. I like to know where everyone is as we leave. I’ve almost got the course down, Lucky. Hurry back.”
* * *
No one ever wanted to skip across the aetherways in the dark, in a room sealed off from the incredible imagery outside the ship.
Except for Holly.
Maybe not seeing it, for once, could make the journey easier for her. And maybe someday, she’d be able to test that out. But probably not the day of their departure from the Kotan space platform aboard the Benedicat Cor Tuum.
In their shared quarters, they claimed their bunks and put their packs in footlockers near their beds. Shiro changed into what he called his travel suit, while Holly eyed a few imperial ales she'd brought to help on the journey. Condensation covered their dark bottles. She took them out of her pack where they'd soaked into her change of clothes, and set them on the alcove next to her bunk.
"I'm here for you, Holly." Odeon interrupted her before she could open one.
She looked up at him. "Can't always lean on your for this. But . . . thank you."
"You can as long as I'm around," he reassured her.
"Let's get back to the bridge," Charly said, opening the hatch to their quarters.
"You don't want to stay here and gossip about the captain and her crew?" Shiro asked with a soft laugh.
"Gossip's not my style," Charly responded, striding from the room.
"It's very much mine." Shiro laughed and followed her.
When Holly and the others returned to the bridge after stowing their gear, they were closing on two hours since boarding. It was time to set sail.
Danielle had the exterior visual up on the viewscreen. At the moment, it only showed the inside of the station’s ship bay. But soon it would show them the dark of space and the magnificence of Ixion, and perhaps Yol in the distance, a gleaming diamond, fierce and white-yellow, shining its heart out.
As Danielle ran through her departure checklist and Wick responded with affirmatives, Holly felt the sweat gathering at the base of her spine. Her sides were beginning to feel coated with perspiration as well.
“I thought exposure therapy would work,” she muttered to Charly. “Nope. Never. Still hasn’t. Or maybe it did, and then the behemoth undid all that.”
“Yeah, exposure therapy. That’s quack science. Probably. Let’s get you a drink, doll. I can whip you up some real medicine,” Charly offered, patting Holly on the back.
“You know I love a drink. But it’s a crutch. And I hate being checked out for all the important stuff.”
“Then I have no answers for you, girl.” Charly shook her head and continued to warily watch Danielle and Wick, distracted by what they were doing.
Not that Holly needed Charly’s answers. Making conversation when she was nervous was never easy. She bit her lip and considered her options for getting through the trip without becoming a drunken mess or demanding that Odeon stay with her, coddling her.
The Yasoan leaned against his Ousaba as the four of them gathered around an unused console. She met his brilliant gaze with her own. He was concerned, but again, she didn’t want to monopolize him for the entire trip. He wouldn’t push his help on her, either, and she appreciated that.
It was weak, her anxiety over space flight, but she’d found no way to get past it so far. As soon as Danielle finished whatever she was doing and dismissed them, Holly would go back to their quarters and sleep for a few hours.
The bridge was bigger than that of the Olavia Apollo. There were four consoles, and only two of them were being used. Melba had taken a seat at one and reclined in it as lazily as she could, resting her cheek on one hand, her legs crossed, essentially draped over the thing.
The Colossus Collection : A Space Opera Adventure (Books 1-7 + Bonus Material) Page 118