by Graeme Ing
Ocean of Dust
by Graeme Ing
Ocean of Dust
(Smashwords Edition)
Copyright © 2012 by Graeme Ing
Cover art Copyright © 2012 by EDHGraphics
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Graeme Ing.
First Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Dedication
For my mother. For everything.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Lissa
Chapter 2: The Two Boys
Chapter 3: The Fair Maiden of Yamin
Chapter 4: The Two Girls
Chapter 5: The Physiker
Chapter 6: On the Command Deck
Chapter 7: Bandit
Chapter 8: Mysteries in the Hold
Chapter 9: The Dare
Chapter 10: The Symbol
Chapter 11: Us-imyan
Chapter 12: Thief
Chapter 13: Festival
Chapter 14: Blue Fire
Chapter 15: The Book
Chapter 16: The Navigator
Chapter 17: Jealousy
Chapter 18: The Flux Storm
Chapter 19: The End of Alice
Chapter 20: Secret Meetings
Chapter 21: Uprising
Chapter 22: Imprisoned
Chapter 23: Escape
Chapter 24: The Flux Channel
Chapter 25: Into the Forest
Chapter 26: Flight
Chapter 27: The Fair Maiden Again
Chapter 28: The Battle for Branda
Chapter 29: The Final Battle
Chapter 30: Dinner with the Captain
Endnotes
Chapter 1 - Lissa
A boy hurtled from a dim alley, crashed headlong into Lissa, and they both tumbled awkwardly onto the hard cobbled street. Fruit and vegetables bounced from her torn sack, rolling into the mud and dung of the gutter.
"Idiot," he snarled, and picked himself up, trying desperately to scrape the muck from his shirt.
Lissa surveyed the luxurious satin, the fine weave of his red breeches and expensive leather shoes. The garish signet ring on his middle finger looked ridiculous and overstated on such a small hand.
"Ugh," he said, flicking gobbets of mud at her. "It's ruined, you stupid child."
"I'm not a child. I'm fourteen Sunturns." He looked the same age, but shorter and better fed. "You ran into me. I took the worst of the fall, look."
She stood and thrust her grazed elbow into his face, then fluffed her filthy, wet skirt. Her long hair lay plastered to her cheeks, and she wrinkled her nose at the acrid stench of dung stuck in it.
They both heard the unmistakable sound of someone running toward them down the alley.
"I don't care about you. Out of my way." The boy shoved her aside and sought help from an old man leading a cart drawn by two oglons, its wheels creaking and splashing through muddy potholes.
A giant, bearded man emerged, panting from the alley. His clenched fists revealed thick, muscular arms. Another, skinnier man darted into view from behind the cart. He grabbed the boy and swung him around like a child's doll, sending him hurtling to the ground. Lissa glanced at the cart-driver, expecting the old man to stop his cart and rush to help, but he simply whipped the oglons and hurried on down the street.
The bearded man joined his slim partner, and they pinned the boy as he squirmed, kicked and screamed. The larger man slapped him across the face, allowing the skinny man to uncoil a length of rope.
Lissa's mouth sagged open and her heart raced. What was going on? What did they want with him? They looked more like thugs than town guards. Her parents had taught her to recognize trouble and walk the other way. She should do that right now, but how could she abandon the poor boy to these men. There was no one else to help him. She swallowed hard and shouted, but her voice sounded weak.
"Guards. Guards!"
"Shaddup," the huge man said. He sprang to his feet and headed toward her.
She squealed and backed away. Her foot squished on an orange fruit, throwing her off balance, and she crumpled onto her discarded sack. The giant man loomed above her and she lay there trembling, unable to move. Why hadn't she just run away when she had the chance? His weathered face leered down at her, and her eyes were drawn to a crescent scar that ran from his lip to his ear. A massive paw of a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her up so hard that her shoulder popped and pain lanced down her arm.
"Let me go, I haven't done anything," she cried, trying to pull away, which made her shoulder hurt even more. Her heart felt like it was about to explode from her chest. What were they going to do to her?
"Put that boy out, quick," the giant man said, glancing over his shoulder at his colleague. "I'll deal with this girl."
He dragged her across to where the boy lay tied up, rolling and straining at his bonds, grunting against a rag wadded into his mouth.
Lissa's eyes widened and she fought to dig in her heels, leaning back futilely against the strength of the man.
"Help. Someone, help!" she screamed.
He backhanded her across the face. Her neck bones crunched and her cheek burned. Her vision darkened for a moment until she blinked and stared at the skinny man through her tears. He removed a bottle from his belt, and poured its contents onto a dirty rag. A pungent smell of medicine filled the air. With one foot on the boy's chest, he pushed the rag onto the boy's nose. In moments, the boy lay motionless.
Lissa clenched her fists to try to stop her uncontrolled shaking. Tears dribbled down her face that still burned. The men's next action was inevitable, but she gritted her teeth and shook away the tears.
The large man snatched her other arm. His hot breath smelled like stale beer and raw meat. She sank her teeth into his hairy arm, retching at the metallic taste of blood. He recoiled but kept his grip and grunted a laugh. His fingers dug into her skin, making her clench every muscle in her body.
The skinny man pushed the dirty, sodden rag over her mouth and nose. "She's trouble, this one," he said, with a whiney voice.
The foul medicine made her gag. She kicked, punched and tried to snatch her head away, but quickly grew tired. It became difficult to think, and then impossible to focus on the blurry faces seemingly dancing above her. She became distantly aware that her limbs had stopped thrashing. Mother. Must get home to Mother.
Chapter 2 - The Two Boys
The chiming of a bell woke her, but she was too groggy to open her eyes and simply counted the chimes. Mid morning already. She'd been unconscious all night. Her head throbbed and her mouth felt dry with a nasty, medicinal aftertaste. Something hard was at her back. Even with closed eyes, she could sense light and heat on her face and arms. Was she outside somewhere?
To her right, wood scraped irregularly on wood. The nearby clinking of coins was unmistakable. Where was she? Two male voices sounded familiar, but she couldn't remember where she had heard them. Her thoughts were sluggish and chaotic, and her body lethargic, ye
t she had a strong sense of danger.
She opened her eyes, immediately raising her hand against the fierce glare of both suns high in the sky. The rich boy sat beside her. She exhaled heavily. This was all his fault. Iron rings shackled his ankles, which were covered in dried rivulets of blood, and a similar pair had been clamped around her own. The metal lay heavy on her skin. Her stomach turned over.
She tugged against them, straining to pull one foot free, crying out when the metal bit into her leg. Blood oozed from her scraped skin and dribbled onto the floor.
Then she spotted the two thugs from the street, standing with their backs to her. She gasped, and then her hands flew to her mouth, praying they wouldn't come over. What did they want with her? She had nothing to do with the rich boy. They must know that.
"Don't draw their attention," the boy hissed. "The rings are too tight, I already tried."
"Quiet," the bearded giant barked, but didn’t turn around.
"We have to escape," she whispered.
"How do you suppose we do that, stupid, right under their noses?"
She sighed. They sat upon a wooden dock at which two small boats bobbed up and down. She peered over one shoulder and observed the stack of crates on which they were both leaning. There was a small gap further along. If they could create a distraction, it might be possible to sneak away.
The two thugs talked to a third man, who sat behind a makeshift desk. Thin, and clean-shaven, he wore a loose-fitting blue shirt and matching pleated trousers that together, looked like a uniform. A gaunt face and fat nose gave him a miserable appearance. His black hair had been braided tightly into a ponytail that fell to his waist. Lissa blinked. What kind of man wore a ponytail? He counted coins into a coffer, pausing only to scribble in a ledger on the desk before him.
Beyond the dock, she noticed a gently rippling ocean, colored grey instead of the deep blue of the lake at home. Her eyes widened. She'd always wanted to see the dust ocean, and here it was. It seemed to go on forever. How far from home had she been taken?
She studied the way the dust flowed ashore in tiny waves. It didn't look wet; in fact, it didn't look like water at all, but an extremely fine powder. The dust ocean, she'd heard it called, but surely they hadn't meant that literally. How could the ocean not have water? She shook her head. It was hard to think straight.
Squinting against the glare of Eldrar, the largest sun, she peered out at several large ships anchored offshore. Tiny boats moved back and forth between them and the dock, each rowed by two men, and piled so high with cargo she wondered how they didn't sink.
"Is that the dust ocean?" she asked the boy.
"Duh." He rolled his eyes.
She sucked in a breath. "Listen, I'm sorry we're here and chained up, but you ran into me, remember? We're in the same trouble, so don't you think we should work together? I'm Lissa. What's your name?"
He swiveled to face her, his chains rattling, and looked her up and down, like a buyer at an oglon market.
"I don't befriend commoners, especially stupid girls."
She glared at him. What an ungrateful wretch.
"I tried to help you, doesn’t that count for anything?”
"I didn't ask you to. All you did was call for the guards," he hissed. "Great rescue."
"At least I tried, you mean, stuck-up snot." Why had she? She should have followed her parents' advice.
He laughed and turned away.
"Yes, it is," he said, a moment later.
"Huh?"
"The dust ocean, since you're obviously too ignorant to know."
"I've never seen it before, all right. So this is Pelen?"
He ignored her and picked at mud dried onto his shirt.
Her gaze settled on an empty plate and mug beside him, and her stomach growled.
"Where did you get the food?" she said.
"They brought it earlier. Bread, meat and a delicious hunk of cheese." He sneered at her.
"You ate it all and didn't save me any? Pig!"
"You're a commoner, you should be used to an empty belly. It's only going to get worse."
"What do you mean?"
He gestured toward the ships at anchor. "You'll be stuck on one of them. I imagine being a drudge and doing what you're told is all you're good for."
She glanced at his manicured nails and child-like hands. He'd never done a day of work in his life.
"I don't know why you're smirking," she said. "You're going to be a slave too, and I bet I can survive better than you."
He shook his head and grinned. His front teeth had a gap.
"Not me. Once my father finds out I'm here, he'll pay off these ruffians. I'll get out of these chains and be back home for dinner. Not long now, and then I'm free of you and your imbecilic questions."
"Your father'd better hurry. They could put us in boats at any moment."
His eyes widened and she saw his fear. Ordinarily she would feel satisfied having scared him, but their argument had only served to distract her from her awful predicament and possible escape.
A crawlie scurried across the wooden boards, and she followed it with her gaze while she chewed on her lip. Time was short and she needed a plan. Once they took her out on that huge expanse of grey dust, she knew she'd never see her home or parents again. If only she’d ran when she had the chance, and then she'd be safe at home with her parents.
It was punishment, she imagined, for daring to dream of getting away from her chores sweeping floors and serving drinks in the inn. Where was the harm in imagining herself climbing snow-clad mountains that loomed into the clouds, or crunching through hot, steamy jungles filled with strange creatures? Didn't they understand that she wanted more than they had? The world was vast and exciting and she longed to explore.
How many times had her mother lectured her about the dangers of daydreaming, and told terrifying stories of people dragged away to sea and never heard from again? Lissa pulled her knees up to her stomach, and shook every time a boat neared the dock. What if the stories were true? Would she be sold as a slave in a far-off land, or sent into the dark depths of a mine? Maybe it would be worse.
The sound of rattling chains yanked her out of her spiraling despair. The rich boy stood. He straightened his shirt and shuffled awkwardly toward the man at the desk, chains grinding and clanking.
"Sir, I demand you summon my father at once."
The gaunt-faced man slammed his coffer and glared.
"My father's a wealthy merchant," the boy said evenly. "He'll pay you a heap of money for my freedom."
The seated man sniffed, jerked his head once, and then inspected his fingernails. The giant thug seized the boy and dragged him back to the crates.
"Sit back down and shaddup," the giant said.
"Unhand me, commoner," the boy screeched. "I will not suffer such insolent treatment. Don't you know who I am?"
"Let him go." The gaunt man stood. His ponytail swished side to side as he took several long strides to reach the boy.
Lissa squirmed, but stared, mouth agape at the boy's bravado.
"At last," the boy said, head held high. "Someone taking charge of these ruffians. I'll see that you're well rewarded, and-"
The gaunt man elbowed the boy in the face so hard that he crumpled, and his head made a horrible thump against the floor. Blood splattered from his broken nose. Lissa yelped. The man stepped forward and kicked him. Whimpering, the boy dragged himself backward.
Her hands covered her face, and she tried desperately not to let the men see her trembling.
"One more sound," the man said, "and your father can come collect your corpse." He spun about and returned to his desk. "Load my things aboard the boat," he told his men.
Lissa rolled onto her side. Her stomach heaved but only phlegm came up. She sucked in deep breaths, trying to stop herself from shaking and control the panic tearing through her mind. She had to get a grip. This might be her only chance. Gathering the chains in her hands, and wincing at each r
attle, she scooted backward, inch-by-inch, toward the gap in the crates. It seemed to take forever.
After six feet, she reached a pair of barrels, only two feet from the gap.
"Where are you going?" the huge man roared.
She froze. Her heart thundered.
A second boy appeared from behind the barrels, scooting around on his backside, a mug in one hand.
"Sorry, sir," he said, holding up his other defensively. "She wanted water. Look, she's gasping."
Lissa grabbed the mug and drank it all, ignoring its warm, tainted flavor. The liquid soothed her parched throat and washed away the sick in her mouth.
"Stay where I can see you," the man said.
She stared at the boy. He must have been lurking in the shady spot behind the barrels. Had he too seen the ponytailed man's display of violence? She chewed her lip. Her future looked awful. No, she had to stop thinking about that.
The boy appeared no older than ten Sunturns. His arms and face were dirty, his clothes ragged, and his hair stuck up in spikes. Congealed blood covered his feet as if he had rubbed them raw trying to escape his shackles.
"Were you trying to make a run for it?" he whispered. "Are you mad?"
He tilted his head to show a blackening welt across one cheek.
"You're not safe from a beating 'cause you're a girl." He suddenly grinned. "Wow, your hair is so red. Nice. I'm Pete."
"Lissa. Thanks for saving me."
"We need to stick together," he said. "Not like that other brat. Ha. I'm glad he got his nose broke… Oh, he's not your brother or anything is he?"
"Him? Gods, no. He got me mixed up in all this, whatever this is, and-" She was rambling. "What are you grinning at? This is horrible. Don't you know what's going to happen to us?"
He shrugged, a strange motion that only involved lifting one shoulder.