by RJ Metcalf
She caught his eye, and her shoulders sagged. Her fingers slid over his. “We’ll find them.”
“Yeah.” Slate took a deep breath and shook out his hands, as if he could fling the reminiscence away. Wind buffeted the Sapphire, and he grasped the helm. He brushed a finger across the starboard turbine controller as a cross breeze rocked the ship. “I was thinking about Ben earlier.”
Garnet tucked a flapping strand of hair under her hat. “And?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Slate shrugged. “I think I like him as a crew member. He and Briar are getting along well, and for not remembering where he’s from, he’s a quick learner. He’s done well with basic duties and working in the galley.”
Garnet grinned and tapped her goggles. “And he looks normal, now that he’s in proper clothing.”
Slate snorted and shook his head. Only Garnet would be concerned about someone’s garb fitting in with what was fashionable. Then again, she was the businesswoman. She enjoyed and excelled at finances, communications, and marketing, and her dedication to the Sapphire allowed them the side missions to chase clues for the keystone. And even little details like Ben’s strange clothes wouldn’t escape her scrutiny.
The wind whistling made hearing Garnet’s sigh impossible, but her shoulders raised and dropped clearly enough. She ran her hand along the brass railing and tilted her head to look at Slate. “He gets along with Jade. Quite well.”
Slate inhaled deeply through his nose. He scanned the sky for the telltale flash of terrors. “I don’t think this is the best time to talk to her about it, though.”
“When will be a good time?” Garnet waved her hand as she spoke. “Last summer wasn’t a good time, nor this winter, and now we have this going on, and—” She broke herself off and pinched the bridge of her nose before looking up at him, blue eyes a filmy gray from the tint of her skyfarer lenses. “I don’t think there’s anything there besides friendship, but neither of them knows the truth.”
Slate drummed his fingers against the helm and resisted the urge to bang his forehead against it. “And Zak’s keeping his distance. Mostly. And she’s miserable and confused by it.” He sighed. “Who knows? But I want to decide on keeping Ben or not before we add that gear to the chaos machine.”
Garnet pressed her lips together. “What is Zak’s read on Ben?”
“He thinks Ben could be telling the truth about not remembering, but Zak still doesn’t fully trust him.” Slate suppressed a wry smile. Zak’s hesitancy on their unexpected recruit could be from more than just Jade’s safety. “Maybe we can train Ben to be a dragon hunter,” he suggested. “We could always use another set of hands in that regard. Of course, we’ll need to test him and see how he does with fear under pressure; that’s imperative for making or breaking a hunter.”
“He beat Geist easily enough in the last sparring match, from what I overheard from the girls. I think it’s Ben: four, Geist: zero,” Garnet commented, her expression thoughtful. “So that’s a good start; he’s no weakling or pushover. But if he’s going to be trained in dragon hunting, it’d be best to have Zak teach him.”
Slate could imagine how that conversation would go over with Zak right now. He winced. “Maybe we should—”
The metal stairs by the railing vibrated as Victor popped into sight, his dark eyes wide open. He kept a hand on the rail as he snapped his line over from one safety bar to the other. “Captain! The Phoenix has been sighted!”
Fierce joy fluttered like butterfly wings and then spluttered in Slate’s chest at the sight of his first mate’s clenched jaw and knitted brow.
“Sir, terrors are attacking them! They’re circling below, and Kerlee swears he saw what may have been a stalker.” Victor’s eyebrows tightened as he pointed northeast and down. “Just over the side, sir.”
Slate slammed his hand down on the black-and-silver gem that controlled the gravity stones, and he held it there to hasten the ship’s descent. He flicked open the hatch on the voice-pipe with his free hand and shouted, “Dragons below, attacking the Phoenix! All able hands, get ready for a rescue!”
His stomach lurched into his heart, and he gritted his teeth as the Sapphire plunged down toward the ground. He could hear Briar swearing in the galley through the closed voice-pipe. A quick glance showed that Garnet and Victor held onto the safety railing as the ship tilted under them. The floor bounced as they landed, and Garnet dropped to a knee while Victor bent his legs to absorb the shock. “Victor, stay onboard for defense. It’s Geist’s turn to go out,” Slate ordered.
Victor nodded, tight-lipped. He and Garnet hustled down the stairs the moment the Sapphire settled. Slate unclipped his line, hefted a hydropack, and scrambled down the stairs after them. The Phoenix gleamed in Slate’s peripheral. Hang on. Victor disappeared below deck, and Garnet waylaid Jade as she rushed toward the side rail.
“No!” Garnet exclaimed, holding her arms around the struggling Jade. “You need to stay on board.”
“I can’t!” Jade cried, twisting out of her aunt’s grasp. “Mother needs help!”
“Jade!” Slate stepped in her way and clutched her arms, spinning her around to face him. His pack shifted and poked a sharp edge into his back, but he didn’t let go of Jade.
Wild blue eyes stared up at Slate, and he suppressed a flinch as a flashback surfaced like a bubble released from dark waters. Strands of red hair escaping her bun, eyes burning with fear and anger, dimming soon after. Slate swallowed hard and willed the unwanted ghost of his past away.
“You need to stay where it’s safe. I’ll get to her. She’ll be fine.” Doubt soured the words in his mouth in the wake of the memory.
Garnet nodded earnestly by Jade’s side. “Let the men go help.” She craned her neck to watch the Phoenix. “I left my spyglass in our room. I need to go get it.”
Ben appeared next to Jade, tense and wary. His eyes flitted over the edge of the ship and toward the Phoenix. His fingers twitched, as if wanting a weapon.
Slate held a hand on Jade while lifting the other to point at Ben. “You!”
Ben whirled around with wide eyes and held a finger against his chest, questioningly.
“Stay on the Sapphire.” Slate pushed Jade in Ben’s direction. “I want you both to stay here, away from the danger.” He leveled a glare at Ben and pointed at Jade. “Keep her safe. I need to go rescue my wife.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ben
Ben fisted his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet while he watched Slate, Zak, and the dragon-hunting crew rush down the gangplank of the Sapphire. He wanted to help, but all the training he’d done with the crew thus far had been focusing on what he knew with hand-to-hand combat. He knew practically nothing of dragons.
Jade stood beside him at the railing, her freckles stark against her pale cheeks as she gripped the worn metal bar. Krista came up from somewhere below deck and hugged an arm around Jade, both girls silent and tense. Large, bird-like creatures with narrow heads swooped down on the wooden-and-metal airship nearby. Shouts of pain and anger and ghastly avian shrieks sent chills down Ben’s spine. The din of the battle echoed in his head, compounding his unease.
Why did the yelling, the cries of pain, the clamor, sound so familiar?
Victor joined them, his jaw set and arms crossed as he watched.
Ben pointed to a group of people clustered on the top deck of the Phoenix, shooting what looked like water into the air. “What are they doing?”
“They’re using hydropacks,” Victor replied without tearing his eyes away from the battle. “One of the best tools to kill the lightning-element dragons without damaging valuable scales.”
Ben tapped his fist against the railing as a bellow from the other airship sent shivers down his back. Fear of the unknown dragons concerned him, but something about the racket of battle crawled under his skin, lodging there, taunting him with wisps of memory that wouldn’t take shape.
“Is the bottom deck closed up?” Victor asked s
uddenly.
Jade started and turned to face the main deck with wide eyes. “I don’t remember.”
“I’ll go check,” Victor decided, his hand on his sword hilt. He pointed at each of them. “Stay out of trouble.”
The ladies chorused their promise to be safe while Ben nodded. He watched Victor steal down the stairs, his steps slow and cautious, not making any sound.
“Hey, let’s go to the top deck. Maybe we can get a better view there.” Krista tugged on Jade’s arm.
Ben followed behind them with slow steps up the stairs, unable to turn away from the scene before him. He counted at least six terrors, and he spotted a blurred movement on the ground below the Phoenix that seemed somehow familiar. The crew of the Sapphire reached the gangplank of the Phoenix, and Zak pointed to the hazy image. Four of the dragon hunters broke off to join him as the rest rushed up to the deck of the ship.
A strange shadow flitted over Ben, and he looked up. Adrenaline pumped through his veins with icy alarm, melting away the vague shadows of recollection. Terror! Apt name. He pounded up the last two steps and rushed around the corner, a shout of warning lodged in his throat.
An ear-splitting kree-yah rattled Ben’s bones as the terror swooped closer. Krista and Jade both looked up, and their eyes widened. Arcs of electricity crackled on metallic claws that reached for them.
Krista shrieked and grabbed Jade’s arm, dropping to the floorboards as Ben ran forward, waving his arms at the dragon as if he could shoo it away. It clearly wasn’t a timid sparrow, but he had to do something, and this was the best he could think of without a weapon in hand.
Sharp claws grazed Ben’s arm, and agony blazed, highlighting every nerve ending. He dropped and writhed as his muscles clenched and released in rapid succession from the electrical shock. Wisps of steam wafted from the four open gashes where the metallic claws had brushed him and seared his skin. He pushed away from the deck with his good arm, watching the terror as it circled ahead, screeching.
Krista dragged Jade under the control panel. Blood soaked Jade’s white blouse, and she clutched her bleeding forearm. She must have hit her arm on the copper board when Krista pulled her down.
Krista held a trembling wrench out as a weapon, her eyes blown wide. Something in Ben’s gut stirred at the fierce glint in Jade’s steely glare as she watched the terror above.
I have to protect them. How?
The stairs leading down to the covered parts of the ship were open—easy access for the terror wheeling overhead. Ben’s gaze snagged on a metal-and-leather pack with a coiled hose sitting next to the helm. Captain Slate had had one when he left for the Phoenix. Victor had called it a hydropack, and Zak said that they’d go over those later.
No time like the present.
He lurched for it and knelt beside the bag, holding his bleeding arm close to his chest. The gauges showed full—of what, exactly, he didn’t know—but he trusted that whatever state the water was in, it wouldn’t need to be primed. Hopefully it could pack a punch against a flying lightning dragon of doom.
Sunlight behind the terror rendered it a dark blur. Ben gritted his teeth and stood in front of where Jade and Krista sheltered. He steadied his hand and aimed the hose. The terror swooped down toward them. He waited a full heartbeat, then yanked the lever.
A high-pressured stream shot out of the cannon. The terror squawked as the water hit it in the chest. It fell to the deck by Krista’s foot. Jade screamed.
Ben jerked the lever down to stop the water before the spray reached the women. Krista scrambled out from under the control panel desk. She raced forward and kicked the terror in the head. The menace skidded away from where she and Jade had sheltered, its claws scratching at the wood boards. Ben refocused the water attack on the creature as electricity arced over its body, smoke and steam billowing. It scrambled away from the harsh water jet on the leathery little hands on the bottoms of its wings.
Pain blindsided Ben as steam vented from the hydropack and rolled over his unprotected hands and arms. Heat lit his nerves on fire.
Scarlet anguish overloaded his senses, and he collapsed as black boots raced across his line of vision toward the terror.
Ben saw nothing more.
* * *
A male spoke: “When do you think he’ll show up?”
His own voice: “Wish I knew. I’m ready to go home.”
“Ugh, yes. I’d kill for a cold beer.” A different intonation, younger.
“Technically, that’s what we’re doing.”
Laughter.
* * *
“Ben? Ben!”
The woman’s voice sounded frantic. Ben groaned, and the memory evaporated like water on a hot day. He shook his head against the pain that threatened to pull him under. A familiar, firm-yet-soft surface under his body gave him a clue to where he was.
Not the infirmary again.
Something cold touched his arm, and he jerked upright with a yell.
Krista, Briar, Victor, and Jaxton swam in his blurred vision. Ben squeezed his eyes shut and counted to five before opening them again. This time he counted exactly one of each face.
Jaxton blinked at him. “You’re awake.” He turned away and plucked a small pink stone from the counter and dropped it in Ben’s lap. “Hold on to that, please.” He waited for Ben to pick it up with stiff, trembling fingers. Jaxton raised a black eyebrow and pressed the wet cloth against Ben’s arm.
Coarse fabric rubbed against scorched skin, and Ben tensed against the crimson agony that lapped at his nerves. The sharp pain faded as quickly as it came, leaving a dull, muted ache that made his stomach roil.
“Clean,” Jaxton announced. He sank onto a stool, next to the bed that Ben sat on, and slid a metal tray over the counter toward him. “I’m going to stitch your arm.” He poured an amber beverage and pushed it toward Ben. “Drink up. And you may want to look away.”
Ben had barely tasted the bitter alcohol before Jaxton jabbed the needle into his arm. Ben choked and swallowed hard, sinuses burning, as his free arm cast about for something to grip.
“Briar, get Ben a nullification stone!” Zak’s voice snapped from the corner of the room, and Ben twisted to look over his left shoulder.
Zak stitched Jade’s arm, which was clean of blood and already had a few neat stitches in her skin. Drying blood browned the edges of her crimson-stained shirt. She offered Ben a wan grin that dimpled her cheek, and held up a mottled blue stone, barely blinking when Zak touched the needle to her arm to weave another stitch. Her dimple deepened as she looked at Ben, and her gaze dropped as a blush colored her cheeks.
“Here.” Briar slipped a cool rock into Ben’s hand—the same hand that already held the pink stone. Immediately, the dull pressure of pain disappeared, leaving a numbness in his body.
Jaxton snorted. “Use that up now, and we won’t have one for later.”
“Better to use it now than to needlessly torture the man,” Zak shot back from the corner. “He helped protect them. Let him have a break from the pain for at least a few minutes.”
After the last week of Zak keeping Ben at arm’s length, hearing his praise rang oddly in Ben’s ears. Pleasant and deserved, certainly, but shockingly strange. Maybe I just needed to prove myself to him.
Ben glanced back to reply to Zak, but his words disappeared when he saw Jade. She sat straight, posture elegant enough for a formal event. Her eyes closed, and a soft smile curled her lips up.
“You’re pretty.”
Jade’s eyes snapped open, and the smile slid from her face.
Ben’s cheeks burned. That thought wasn’t supposed to leave his head. “I—sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to—”
The glare Zak aimed at him was almost enough to give him fresh burns. Krista and Briar laughed in the background.
“I suppose it’s safe to assume you’re one of the people who doesn’t handle mixing painkillers well.” Victor’s voice was low, conspiratorial almost, but humor shimmered in hi
s words. His eyebrow twitched at Ben’s confusion. “Most of us can combine nullification stones and alcohol without a problem.” He gestured at Ben with a small smirk. “Some, when under the influence of both, have difficulty controlling what they think and say.”
Ben opened his mouth.
“Ah, ah.” Victor waggled his finger. “This is one of those times you should really practice ‘think before you speak.’“
Ben simmered at that and resisted looking back at Jade. He hadn’t meant for it to sound the way it did. But judging by the glee in Krista’s eyes and the amusement radiating from Briar, no one would believe him if he said so. And, just his luck, Zak had witnessed it. Whatever camaraderie he may have had a chance at with the moody swordsman was assuredly gone now.
Briar leaned against the wood paneling and shook his head at Ben, mirth still crinkling his eyes. “You know, if you want to use the hydropack, it’s recommended to wear gloves and protective clothing. A leather vest, at least.”
Ben closed his eyes with a low groan as he tried to steady his arm against Jaxton’s relentless tugging. He focused on his words before gritting out, “A bit late to tell me that.”
“He did well enough.” Victor looked at Ben with a mix of sympathy and pride. “Krista finished the terror off while you napped on the deck.”
“Seriously, though.” Briar’s voice softened, and he gripped Ben’s shoulder. “You did good. Thank you for being there with them.”
Ben dipped his head in a shallow nod. “It was the right thing to do.” Really? Why couldn’t I have just said, “of course” or something suave like that? He dared to look down at his arms and swallowed at the sight of the swollen, shiny red skin. Blisters wept clear fluid on his fingers. “I’d do it again. Preferably with training first.” Good. Didn’t flub that one.
A laugh huffed out of Briar, and he snapped his fingers. “I know! I hereby dub you Steamboy.”
“Steamboy?”
Victor rolled his eyes and nodded to Ben as he left.