Awakened

by Morgan L. Busse

  At the top, he emerged onto the main deck. The air felt cooler than it had earlier, almost with a bite to it. The dark clouds that had been a thin line on the horizon now loomed across the entire sky ahead. Sailors ran this way and that across the deck, pulling on ropes or shouting commands. Anders, Robert’s first mate, ran past Stephen toward the top deck. Stephen followed.

  Robert stood alone at the helm, the wind pulling his dark hair back away from his face, his gaze forward.

  Anders came to a stop near the helm and brought his hand up to his forehead in a salute. “Captain?”

  “We have company,” Robert said without taking his eye off the skies ahead. He reached over to his left and cranked on the large gear attached to helm, next to the lever. The bell began to ring again. While it rang, he brought the ship level above the first tier of dark gray clouds.

  Stephen glanced over the railing. The gray expanse looked more like the ocean on an overcast day than a storm.

  “We’ve been spotted by the Austrium blockade.” Robert returned his hand to the wheel. “They’re sending a squadron of wasps our way from the port side. Tell the men to prepare.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Anders said. “But, if I may ask, how did they find us?”

  “I don’t know. Austrium must have established a new base nearby. Right now we need to concentrate on those wasps. We’ll figure out the logistics later, after we have escaped. And Anders?”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “I’m going to try to keep us above this storm for as long as ­possible. But if we can’t shake those wasps, I’m going in.” His face tightened. “The men need to be prepared for that as well.”

  Anders’ face paled. “You don’t mean to actually fly into the storm, do you, Captain?”

  Robert set his jaw. “Not unless we absolutely have to.”

  Anders saluted again. “Aye, Captain.” The first mate disappeared below the deck.

  Stephen turned around. “Where do you want me?”

  Robert answered without looking his way. “Galley. It’s one of the safer places and Fitz might need help if we have wounded.”

  “And Kat?”

  “I’ll send one of my men to escort her to a safe place. You just get yourself to the galley.”

  Stephen hesitated, then nodded, leaving Robert at the helm with a grim expression on his face. Already he could hear a buzz in the air over the rotor blades. Must be the wasps Robert had referred to.

  He descended from the top deck and dashed toward the galley door. Sailors raced to either side of the ship and started pulling on a complex set of ropes and pulleys.

  Halfway to the door, a large buzz sounded to his right. Stephen glanced over.

  A yellow and black aircraft the size of one of those steam-powered phaetons whizzed by on wings similar to that of a wasp. A second later a volley of bullets erupted across the deck. Stephen dove for the door and covered his head.

  “Get those panels up now!” Anders shouted.

  Stephen lifted his gaze. Using the pulleys and ropes, the sailors heaved up three large panels, each the size of a bedroom wall, from the port side of the ship. Another crew of sailors did the same on the starboard side.

  “Goggles on!”

  Stephen straightened up and reached for the door just as the ship dipped beneath his feet. For a split second he felt like he was falling. Then the ship rose a micro-foot and caught up with his feet. His knees buckled on impact and he tumbled forward, hitting his head against the doorway.

  Throbbing pain shot across his right temple. Stephen twisted around and gripped his head as stars popped across his vision. Blazes, that hurt!

  “Light the panels, now!”

  A bright, searing light appeared across the panels on either side of the main deck, bright as the noonday sun. Throwing an arm up to cover his eyes, Stephen stumbled back until he hit the door behind him. Flashes of light joined the stars dancing across his vision.

  “Good work, men! We’ve dazzled them!”

  Stephen pressed his palms into his eye sockets. What just happened?

  The ship lurched again, but this time he planted his feet and stayed put. The moment his sight cleared, Stephen went for the door.

  “Get ready to light the panels again on the next go around,” Anders yelled.

  Stephen wrenched the door open and dashed inside, shutting the door behind him. Lamps swung above his head as he staggered between the tables, using his hands and the wall nearby for balance.

  In the back, the dangling pots and pans tilted away from the dining room as the ship continued its ascent. Ignoring the imminent possibility of being brained by his own cookware, Fitz calmly lifted his black medical box and placed it on the counter. He looked up as Stephen entered.

  “The captain sent you down here, eh?”

  “Yes.”

  The box—and the pans above—began to tilt to the side as the airship changed directions. Fitz stopped the box from sliding with one hand and flipped open the lid with the other. “I assume we are under attack.”

  “Yes.” Stephen made his way to the counter. “From something Robert called wasps.”

  Bright light flared outside the windows surrounding the galley, lighting up the area in almost blinding light.

  Halos remained in Stephen’s vision as the glare outside dissipated. “What is that?”

  “An invention of the captain’s. We have a limited arsenal, which we save as a last resort. So before we shoot the guns, we dazzle the enemy airships first.”

  “Dazzle?”

  “Using reflective panels, similar to a looking glass, we intensify the sunlight and flash it across the panels. The effect is a wide display of bright light that temporarily blinds the pilots.”

  “Does it work?”

  “Most of the time. As a blockade-runner, the Lancelot’s strength is in stealth and speed. Usually the dazzle gives us enough time to outrun the enemy.”

  Another brilliant burst of light flashed across the galley windows.

  “How are the men not blinded by the light?”

  “Special goggles.”

  That’s right, Anders told the men to place their goggles on before the light show began.

  As his vision cleared, Stephen heard Fitz clicking softly with his tongue as he perused his medical box. “Yes, that should be good enough.” He snapped the lid shut with a click and glanced at the windows with a furrowed brow. “We should have outrun them by now.”

  The airship leveled out beneath his feet. Stephen straightened up. “There’s a storm outside.”

  A gleam entered Fitz’s eyes. “Well, well, this could get interesting.”

  Chapter

  8

  Kat jerked awake. She stared at the ceiling as the airship shifted beneath her. Her stomach felt like it was pulling back into her spine and sliding toward her throat. One of the maps on the table nearby slid toward the edge and fluttered to the floor. The armillary sphere followed seconds later with a loud crash.

  A spray of thunks beat a rapid staccato above her, followed by a flash of brilliant light that streamed in through the glass bulkhead, illuminating the captain’s cabin with a painful glare. There was shouting and stomping of boots, then another flash of light.

  Bracing against the wall to her left and the bed behind her, Kat sat up, an empty feeling expanding across her middle. What was going on? Were they under attack? What was that light outside?

  She twisted and placed her feet on the ground. The ship dipped beneath her, and for one long moment, she felt suspended in air. The ship yanked up again and she landed on the bed.

  The chairs and the table nearby shook but didn’t budge from their hooks. The metal chandelier swung back and forth, and another map, along with her research, fluttered to the floor.

  Kat stood, testing the wooden planks beneath her. There was a steady, low rumble across the floor, but thankfully the dipping had stopped for now. She stretched an arm toward the back of the closest chair and gripped it. T
hen she reached for the next chair, using them to make her way toward the glass bulkhead.

  The door opened behind her. “Miss!”

  Kat glanced back. One of the sailors stood in the doorway, a small, thin man with mousy brown hair pulled back at the nape of his neck.

  “Miss, we need to get you to safety.”

  A large black and yellow metal cylinder the size of a phaeton whizzed by the glass bulkhead, disappearing before she could figure out what it was. Seconds later, the wall to her left reverberated with another dozen thunks.

  Kat wanted to let go of the chair she clung to, but her fingers refused to cooperate. Another blaze of light flashed across the glass.

  The airship tilted to the right and she stumbled toward the table, hitting the edge with her hip. Intense pain blossomed across her side and she gasped. The rest of the maps and navigation tools fell to the floor and slid toward the bench on the other side of the room.

  The sailor staggered to her side and grabbed the table. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.”

  “We need to get you out of here.”

  She caught sight of her research papers. “Not yet! I can’t leave without my work.”

  Another black and yellow flying machine came into view. The machine hovered in place, its wings on either side flapping so fast that they were a blur. A person sat in the cockpit behind the black-tipped cylinder, a set of goggles obscuring his face.

  Kat gasped. “What in the world is tha—”

  The sailor shoved her as the glass bulkhead shattered under the barrage of bullets. Kat fell to the floor, arms over her head. The sailor grunted behind her. A cold wind blew into the open space and whipped around the cabin. She began to slide toward the broken windows. Heart thudding against her chest, she reached out and snaked her arm around one of the hooked chairs. Her skirt billowed around her legs before she locked her left leg around another chair.

  Adrenaline raced along her limbs like arcs of electricity. Kat looked back. The flying contraption was gone, but so was most of the bulkhead. The wind seized whatever it could and ripped it out of the ship. Papers and maps danced through the air and out the opening.

  Then her research flew into the air.

  “No!” Kat cried, frantically reaching for the whirling papers. One by one, they whipped through the air before racing out the opening. Her fingers brushed the last paper as it followed the rest. It hovered there, between the ship and open sky, as if mocking her. Then it flew into the raging storm below.

  Kat stared at the opening, a painful lump in her throat. All of it—all her thoughts, all her hard work over the last few days—gone. As if the universe were saying no knowledge or science or pill could heal what was wrong inside her.

  That she was on her own.

  She stared at the open space, her hair fluttering around her face in a frenzy.

  The ship dipped downward, yanking her attention back to her peril. Her leg came loose and she slipped farther toward the broken bulkhead. Shards of glass like teeth glittered around the edges. Far below, dark gray clouds churned.

  The sailor slid by her. He scrambled for a hold, but his fingers, red with blood, slipped with every grab. He cried out as he disappeared through the opening, a look of wild terror on his face.

  A scream from the depths of her soul tore through her lips. Kat continued to scream as she locked her arms around the metal chair next to her. It strained against the hooks that held it to the floor.

  The airship continued its descent. Wind blasted across her body and her skirt flew up around her thighs. Her arms began to shake. Kat looked back toward the door that led to the main deck.

  Only twenty feet away, and yet so far. Her arms were starting to go numb.

  She was going to fall out of the ship, just like that sailor.

  Kat squeezed her eyes shut and clung to the chair. I should have gone with him when he first asked instead of going for my research. Now they’re both gone.

  But maybe it wasn’t too late for her. Kat raised her head. She could save herself. All she had to do was let her fear trigger the power inside her. Just open herself up and let the frigid darkness take over and do the rest.

  One arm shifted on the metal leg.

  A trickle of sweat slid down her face, and with it a crack formed deep inside her.

  The power responded. Instantly she could feel every particle in the room: the air, the furniture, even her own body, the focal point. She could do it, just move the particles and—

  Kat squeezed her eyes shut and clutched the chair. The wind continued to howl around her. Already an aching chill had begun to spread across her body in anticipation of the release.

  No. I need to find another way.

  She opened her eyes. They were now inside the storm. The ship juked and jinxed along the currents within the clouds. A moment later and the ship evened out.

  This was her chance.

  Kat scrambled to her feet and dashed for the door. Anywhere had to be safer than here.

  She bypassed a patch of blood on the floor on her way to the door. The sailor must have been hit when he’d shoved her out of the way of the bullets. She tried to dredge up remorse, but only a hint of the feeling passed through her as she reached the door and wrenched it open. She flew down the dark corridor toward the next door and tugged at the handle, but the door was stuck fast. “What do I do?” She panted and held a hand to her temple. The ship began to tilt again. No time to think. She had to get out of here!

  Kat raced down the rest of the corridor toward the deck ahead. The galley. That had to be a safe place, right? Right there in the middle of the ship. Fitz would be there, and maybe some of the sailors. Someone who could help her.

  She breathed furiously as she fumbled with the outer door. The ship dipped again. She let go of the handle and slammed into the wall. Blood whooshed through her veins and the cold ache beat inside her. She brought her hands out in front of her and her fingers uncurled. The wind died around her, the air particles slowing at her command.

  A smile spread across her face and a laugh gurgled up inside her throat.

  No! Kat shut her eyes and closed her hands into fists. The air blasted across her again. She would not use her power.

  She twisted around and went for the door. The knob turned and she flung the door open.

  A gust of wet wind slapped her face. Rain pelted the deck in a harsh staccato while dark clouds swirled around the airship. Not a person in sight. Across the deck, she spotted the door that led to the galley. Then she glanced at the deck again. Rivulets of water raced across the wooden planks in waves.

  She gripped the doorway. She couldn’t do it. There was no way across—

  The airship hit a bump and Kat slipped out onto the deck. The ship tilted sideways.

  Her feet went out from under her. Down she went and began to slide toward the railing.

  Faster, faster.

  Kat screamed and twisted, scrambling to her knees. Rain showered her face and body. In the downpour, she spotted one of the main rotor masts a couple feet away. If she could reach it, she could cling to the thick rope tied around the post until the ship righted itself, then make a dash for the galley.

  Kat reached out her hand, her fingers numb with cold. Her knees slipped and she fell onto her belly. Like butter, she slid farther across the deck and away from the mast. Heart in her throat, she glanced behind her.

  The railing was a mere twenty feet away and approaching fast. All blood drained from her face.

  I’m not . . . going . . . to make it.

  It was just like her dream, only instead of being sucked into the ocean, she was going to slip off the airship and fall to her death. Just like that sailor. His face played over and over again in the back of her mind as the voice from her dream cooed inside her ear. But Kat, you’re already dying. What does it matter?

  Her nostrils flared. “No, I’m not!” she shouted at the sky. “I can’t die! I—” She sobbed and curled her
fingers like claws, gripping the deck with all her might. Rain slammed down on her and rushed across her face. She couldn’t move forward, not without letting go of her grip, but at least she wasn’t moving backward anymore.

  She blinked away the water and took in a lungful of air. The storm raged around the ship, dark clouds rolling over each other, sparks of lightning flashing. The wind tore across her face, slamming the raindrops across her cheeks until her skin burned.

  Even if she were to release her power, it could not save her from this storm. She could only control one element—either the rain, or the ship, or the wind—but not everything. And if she did, could she stop herself? It was only a matter of time before—

  The ship bucked beneath her and her fingers slipped.

  “Noooo!”

  She gripped the deck again, shoving her fingers as far as she could into a wedge between the wooden planks. But she could not get a footing with her feet. Her arms began to shake from exertion and her fingers were numb. Maybe she should just let go. Who would miss her? The world would be rid of a monster.

  “Kat!”

  Kat blinked against the torrent. A figure emerged from the galley door. Oh, God . . . Her arms began to shake. Someone was coming to save her. Thank You.

  The figure slowly made his way across the deck, a rope trailing behind him. There was flash of light, illuminating the man coming to get her.

  Her stomach dropped.

  Stephen.

  Chapter

  9

  More and more crew members piled into the galley. Moisture from their clothing and the heat of their bodies created an oppressive humidity that made it difficult to breathe. Stephen stood in the back corner, careful to keep out of the way.

  Outside the window, dark gray clouds rose up as the airship dipped into the storm. Moments later the galley grew dark. Condensation spread across the glass.

  The ship bounced once and a couple men toppled over.

  “Brace yourselves,” Reid called out. “We’re in for a bumpy ride.”