by Amy Braun
Sawyer was helping Nash adjust a knot in his rope, as Gemma stared at them impatiently. I got up from my seat and grabbed the rope behind her. The pirate woman turned her glare on me, but I just glared back.
We pulled the chain when Sawyer gave the command. Our combined strength hauled the skiff into its dock until it snapped loudly into place. Once it was secure, I looked at the black walls beside the skiff. Each side held a watertight door with a large hand wheel. Sawyer and Nash walked to the door on the right, both of them taking a side of the wheel. Together, they pushed and pulled on it. It screeched as it twisted, but soon enough the two young men had opened the door. They held it so Gemma and I could slip through, and then Sawyer swung himself inside, quickly followed by Nash.
It was pitch black within the docking bay, but I could see well enough. The corridor we entered was narrow and plain, with a single staircase leading upward. It curved around after about a hundred steep steps, which would lead to the top half of the airship if its outer design could be trusted.
I didn’t wait for the others, bounding up the stairs as fast as I was able.
By the time I made it to the top platform, my legs were rubbery and my lungs were burning. To my relief, I wasn’t the only one winded. The Marauders behind me were bent at the waist, gasping in air. As my heartbeat slowed, I looked up and saw another watertight door blocking us from the interior of the ship. When we’d caught our breath, Sawyer turned to Gemma and Nash.
“Remember what Claire told you?” he asked.
They nodded. I had explained how to space the explosives evenly during our flight up to the Behemoth.
“We’ll go look for her sister and take the ship. Once you plant the bombs, get back here, wait thirty minutes, and then blow them. Whether we’re back or not.”
“Sawyer, are you sure about this?” Nash asked, seeing the seriousness on his captain’s face.
“Sure enough. But you know the rules. Pirates aren’t patient.”
It must have been some kind of code, because neither Nash nor Gemma contradicted him.
Sawyer beckoned Nash. The big Marauder followed his captain, taking my place by the wheel on the door.
I stepped back to give them space, studying Sawyer. Could the Behemoth really be worth all this risk? Did he want a life of adventure back so badly? Did he just want to spit in the eye of the Hellions? Or was this pure selflessness? The chance to save an innocent life from the monsters that had taken so many? Sawyer was a mystery I doubted I would ever solve.
Sawyer and Nash opened the door, which was just as cranky as the last one. I slipped through, with Sawyer trailing behind me.
It was like stepping into a monster’s belly. The hallway before us stretched until it was lost in shadows. The floor was smooth, bolted iron that gleamed red in the pockets of light skimming across it. That light came from rectangular gaps in the walls, flaring behind slim archways which curved like ribs under the hundred foot ceiling. The red glow made me think of the dozens of furnaces which must work to keep a ship this size running. The air tasted thick and smelled like ashes. I heard flames crackling, saw their light shove against the shadows and skitter along the walls.
Fresh sweat trickled down my neck, spine, and temples, not just caused by the boiling heat. I knew Abby was here somewhere—that she was terrified and desperate for help—but my body didn’t want to move. It didn’t trust the darkness or the red lights. It didn’t want to turn a corner and find flames, or Hellions, or my sister’s unseeing eyes as she lay on a pile of corpses.
Something touched my shoulder. I jumped.
It was Sawyer’s hand. I caught a glimpse of Nash and Gemma moving down the hall behind him. Sawyer stared at me blankly, but calmly.
“Come on. There’s another door over here,” he said, pointing to a tall, rectangular shadow on our right. “Let’s start there. Maybe it’s a secret path that’ll lead us to your sister.”
I found my voice quickly. “What about the ship?”
“It can wait.” Sawyer turned and started walking away.
I stared at his back, dumbfounded. “You only agreed to this because you wanted the Behemoth,” I burst out. “Why would you want to find my sister first?”
Sawyer stopped walking. His shoulders stiffened for a moment, and then went slack.
“I had two little brothers,” he said, so quietly I barely heard him. “I couldn’t save either of them from...this.”
He didn’t turn and let me see his heartache, but I heard it. He’d felt the pain of losing family to the Hellions. He didn’t want me to suffer the way he had.
“I’m sorry, Sawyer,” I told him.
“Don’t be,” he replied roughly. “Once we find her, alive or dead, you’re going to keep your end of the bargain.”
If he hadn’t just bared part of his soul, I would have argued with him. Instead, I bowed my head and followed him.
We moved quickly, entering the door and rushing through another dark corridor until we came to a cool room lit by bleak yellow lightbulbs. The shadows in the room were thick, but I could see what I needed to see.
Rows of metal plates about the size of a man lined the walls, each with leather straps at the top and bottom. To the left of each was a clear tube attached to a blocky, black electrical pump at the base. Held in place by those straps were a dozen half-naked humans with a large needle in their necks. The clear tubes steadily pumped fresh blood into the mechanisms at the base of the metal plates. The wires connected to these pumps snaked along the blood-spotted floor and connected to a large tank next to an even larger circuit breaker. The breaker was lined with numbers and lights, some glowing green while a couple blinked red. I looked at the survivors, watching the short, slow rise and fall of their chests. Most of these poor people were sickly gray, their breathing shallow and short. Some weren’t moving at all.
Horror and sickness filled me, almost making me vomit. Men, women, boys, and girls of all ages had been stolen from their homes, captured and tortured, drained of blood to feed a monster that wasn’t even on our side of the rip.
The plate nearest the breaker caught my attention. It held a little girl with unkempt blonde curls and oversized clothes. My heart leapt into my throat.
Abby.
I ran to my sister, stopping in front of her plate. I clutched her shoulders as gently as I could.
“Abby! Abby!”
She didn’t answer, didn’t open her eyes. I stared at the tube, watching it drain the blood from my sister’s body. Her skin still had some color to it, so perhaps she was brought here as a way to tide the Hellions over until they could gather more victims. Disgusted by the thought, I grabbed the tube and steadied myself to tear it out.
“Claire, wait!”
I glared at Sawyer over my shoulder.
“Find a way to stop the machine,” he said reasonably, stepping closer.
He was right, damn it. The sight of my sister’s closed eyes and ashen skin had made me lose focus.
I took a deep breath and stepped back. Forcing myself not to look at her, I turned to the humming circuit breaker. Near the bottom was a square piece bolted onto an otherwise solid chunk of iron. I knelt down in front of it, drawing a screwdriver from my belt. The bolts were easy to unscrew, dropping with soft clatters onto the floor. I peeled away the panel and studied the wires inside.
There were hundreds of them, but past the smaller wires was one large black cord about the size of my fist. The power cable. Just what I needed.
Placing my screwdriver back onto my belt, I reached inside the opened panel and felt around the bottom of the cord. It was attached to the floor by four heavier bolts. I grabbed the battery-powered drill from my hip and ducked back into the machine. It was difficult to work both of my arms into the small, square hole, but I managed to find the first bolt and drill it out.
It took little over a minute to get the rest of the bolts unscrewed. I put the drill away and grabbed the tube, giving it a fierce yank. The cable make
a loud, angry pop as it was released, air hissing into the new space.
Then the whine of machinery began to dull. I pulled my arms back and stood up, turning to Abby. Blood had stopped flowing into the tube. It had worked.
I unstrapped Abby from the plate, starting with her legs. As soon as I undid the straps around her chest, she toppled forward. I caught her, tears forming in my eyes.
“It’s okay, Abby,” I whispered, smoothing down her tangled curls. “It’s okay, baby sister.”
There was a slight breeze against my neck.
“Claire?”
Her voice was hoarse and frail, but it warmed my heart.
“I’m here, sister,” I told her. “We’re getting out of here.”
I looked over my shoulder when Sawyer approached. He glanced at my sister, then at me. “We need to move. I’ll carry her.”
I hesitated, but nodded. I looked at the other dying humans in the room. “What about them?”
Sawyer glanced at them and sighed. “There’s nothing we can do for them. We can’t carry them all and even if we could, look at them, Claire. They’re almost dead. We’d just be taking corpses back to the ground.”
He lifted Abby into his arms, turned, and started jogging from the room. I chased him through the dark corridor into the hallway, barely seeing where I was going until he skidded to a stop and I nearly crashed into him. Abby screamed and buried her face in Sawyer’s chest.
A dozen Hellions were blocking our exit.
They must have just returned from hunting, because their masks and gloves had been removed. Lank black hair hung on either side of splotchy white faces. Serrated black claws protruded from their fingertips. Glowing red eyes shone like flaming coals. The monsters opened their jaws and revealed two rows of jagged teeth.
In a flash of movement, Sawyer twisted and handed Abby to me so he could draw his pistol, but he was probably thinking the same thing I was.
We are going to die.
There was no way we could survive when the Hellions charged us. Abby should have run when I told her to—
The Behemoth shuddered violently. I bent my knees to keep my balance on the vibrating floor. The Hellions chittered and shrieked at each other, trying to figure out what was happening. Then the airship rocked again, and I knew.
Gemma and Nash had triggered the explosives.
I turned my head to look past Sawyer at the hull of the Behemoth. A speck of gray light filtered into the ship’s belly, and then another, and another, and another. Each speck of light grew larger as it edged closer, blasting away the shadows and bringing daylight into the airship.
The Hellions realized their danger, and that they had no way to escape. They panicked and started to run for the shadows, scrambling to put their protective gear back on and forgetting all about us. Any Hellion that was able to get their mask and gloves on was immediately shot in the head by Sawyer.
I grabbed my sister’s hand and sprinted with her and Sawyer to the door beyond the panicking Hellions. They were spreading out, cutting off any chance we had of sneaking around the edges. There was no choice but to run through them.
More sharp, sudden explosions rippled through the Behemoth, making us stumble as we rushed through the invaders. Sawyer shoved away creatures that shifted too close to us, lashing out with a punch when he could. I would swear there was a grin on his lips.
The pockets of light were gaining quickly, murky gray beams shining through the holes. The Hellions scratched, clawed, and bit each other, crazed in their desperate attempt to escape the light.
But we’re nearly there. Just a few more steps—
A chunk of the hull burst inward off the ship, clanging loudly against the iron floor. Two unprotected Hellions were trapped in the light, both of them dropping to their knees and screaming in agony. I watched their skin blacken and peel, bloody muscles singeing and catching fire. In seconds, I saw the creatures turn into humanoid flames then crumble to a pile of black dust.
The next shock was stronger than the last. It threw us onto the ground, sending pieces of shrapnel tumbling over us. Sawyer landed beside me, quickly rolling onto his front and covering his head with both hands. I grabbed my sister and pulled her close, shielding her as much as I could from the deadly metal.
Thunderous wind and animal howls reverberated in my ears. The floor trembled under me. I smelled smoke and burning skin. I thought it would never end.
But then, it did. I could still smell smoke, but heard no more screams. I raised my head carefully then took Abby’s hand and stood up with her.
A dozen smoking ash piles lay around me, tiny flecks being swept away by the wind. Pale light filtered in behind me, pushing away the shadows. Holes at least six feet high and six feet across peppered the hull of the Behemoth. The damage was extensive, but the ship’s powerful engines would keep it afloat. For now, we were safe.
The Hellions were dead.
My little sister abruptly threw her arms around me, and I smiled.
“I knew you’d find me,” Abby whispered.
My heart ready to burst from relief, I stroked her hair, and then looked at Sawyer. He was sitting across from me, watching us with contentment slightly marred by sadness. I nodded my gratitude. He returned the gesture.
The door behind us, which had survived the explosions, was thrown open. Nash shouldered his way through, Gemma right behind him. Both of them smiled with relief.
“Thought you weren’t gonna make it out,” Nash said.
Sawyer grinned crookedly. “You forgot how lucky I am.”
Nash and Gemma chuckled at that. Sawyer looked at me again.
“I want to make a new deal,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “What kind of deal?”
Sawyer held my eyes.
“There’s nothing down there for you and your sister,” he said. “Any food or materials are going to be snatched up by whoever has the fastest hands. There will be riots and murders. You won’t be any safer than you were when the Hellions were around. If the rumors are true, this is the only ship those animals ever had. Their leader will probably die off in a few months. We could very well have seen the last of them. If you join my crew as an engineer and help me fix this ship, you won’t have to worry about protection ever again. We look out for our own, and we could do with a clever engineer.”
The playfulness in his smile reached his eyes.
“So, would you rather struggle to live off scraps, or would you rather sail through the clouds?”
All eyes turned to me. Nash and Gemma looked interested, even a little hopeful. Sawyer was expectant. I glanced down at Abby, whose face was filled with wonder, excitement...
Hope.
It had been so long since I’d seen that look in her eyes, so long since I felt its warmth fill my chest. There was only one choice. I looked at Sawyer and smiled.
“We’ll choose the sky.”
Miss Warlyss Meets the Black Buzzard
by Diana Parparita
Miss Isabella Warlyss was inspecting the delicate engraving on the mahogany panels that covered the walls of her cabin with the air of a connoisseur. She had already identified the country of provenance—Ardesia—and the style and period they belonged to—early eighteenth century pre-Victoriana—and was now discussing their aesthetic merit and praising the workmanship to Colonel Austeria Hazelhold, her host, chaperone, and jailer aboard the Glass Maiden.
What Isabella was actually looking for, as she brushed her fingers over the intricate details of the woodwork, was the switch that would open a secret passage…her ticket to momentary freedom should Colonel Hazelhold take her eyes off her for just one moment. She hadn’t seen any blueprints of the Glass Maiden—all information on Imperial vessels was strictly guarded—but she had yet to see blueprints of any airship that didn’t have a secret exit for their first class passengers.
“My dear, there is nothing to be found in that corner you are so greatly praising,” Colonel Hazelhold said rather abr
uptly. “And, at any rate, there can be nothing of interest for a young lady aboard an airship like the Glass Maiden. I should say, nothing of interest that could be found outside this cabin.
“If you wish for a better view of the sea of clouds below us, we can go out on the deck for a little while, and you will notice that you are equally bored outside the cabin as in it.”
“There are plenty of interesting things on an airship,” replied Isabella. “There’s the engine room—”
“—Which you are forbidden from visiting,” Colonel Hazelhold interjected.
“But I could learn so much there!” Isabella pleaded, clasping her hands before her in a most imploring stance.
“There is nothing you can learn from watching a bunch of men throw coal into a furnace,” replied Colonel Hazelhold. “And all a young lady like you needs to learn is how to look pretty, be obedient, and wear her dresses without staining them. I assume your father, Governor Warlyss, has already informed you that you are to be married as soon as a suitable husband can be found. Your duty, my dear—to your father and to your country—is to secure a foreign husband whose political influence will strengthen our position in these barbaric territories. There is nothing you can learn in an engine room that would help you with that.”
Isabella did not seem too thrilled at the prospect of marriage. She had always abhorred her father’s business associates back home, before he’d bought his governorship and she’d been sent off to the Pensionnat, and she imagined his political allies would be equally boring.
Having spent the past ten years of her life cooped up in Madame Belchagrin’s Pensionnat for Young Ladies, reading forbidden periodicals of science and romance by the light of a dim candle, she was now eager to explore the world and its wonders. Instead, she found herself confined to her cabin, under the ever-watchful eye of her chaperone, and bound on a one-way trip home to Chipateria, and a marriage of convenience to an odious man—for he was bound to be odious under the circumstances—chosen by her father to better his political interests.