Beneath a Burning Sky (The Dawnhawk Trilogy Book 3)
Page 41
Orders buried within a string of snarled profanity carried across the deck of the Dawnhawk. Fengel looked to the figure who was overseeing all this construction, then crossed the pier and up the gangplank to be with her.
Natasha looked weary. She limped, but she wasn’t splinted like he was. A bandana was wrapped around her head, hiding the bare spots where her hair had burned away in the fires. At her side hung the Worked longsword she’d recovered from that last battle. According to her, the wielder had been the Crown Prince of Perinault himself. That seemed unlikely. Though if it was the blade Fengel thought it was...no. Time enough for that later. On her shoulder squatted Butterbeak, cranky and malevolent. The fat little parrot had been badly singed during the fight and wasn’t doing much flying these days. Of all the injuries suffered, this one had been a source of joy to every crewmember still alive.
His wife saw his limping approach and turned away from the work, walking down to the stern of the vessel. Fengel followed, coming to a stop beside her to lean wearily upon the railing. Natasha shook off her parrot, which fell to the deck with an unceremonious thump. It let loose an irritated shriek before glaring at her and waddling away.
Beyond, past the railing, what was left of Haventown fell away. The Atalian Sea glittered far below them, unbroken but for the waves stretching as far as Fengel could see.
“So,” said Natasha eventually. “How’d your meeting with the captains go?”
Fengel made a face. “They’re licking their wounds and doing little else. I’m not surprised they all fled there at the end—each airship is barely aloft as is. Khalid and Weatherby will be trouble, when they’ve time for it. Brunehilde will stand with us. Better than that, Solrun’s Hammer is well enough off to ferry supplies. No one’s going raiding anytime soon. Though Shannon MacKinnon’s Windhaunter will be the first to do so, once she gets a new rudder assembly.”
“Mmm.”
“Something wrong?”
Natasha leaned on the railing. “So many of our crew, gone. Our ship, wrecked. The Copper Isles, gone. Even...” She looked away. “Even my father.”
“I’m still sorry about that.”
“Don’t lie.”
Fengel had nothing to say to that.
“We’ve lost so much,” he said eventually. “But we survived. And we’ll thrive.”
He reached an arm out behind her back. She leaned into it. “Is that all? Just survive?”
“Well. We’ve got a flying city now,” he said. “Our enemies will learn to fear us.”
“You always say the sweetest things.”
They watched the clouds skid by, an impermanent ceiling hanging just above them. The sun beat down, warm and bright though the air was cold.
“It’s all different now,” said Natasha. “Isn’t it?”
Fengel nodded. “All of it. I don’t think we can even be pirates anymore. Not with the Perinese making airships. Time to find something else to do.”
His wife didn’t have a response to that. She leaned into him, and they held each other, suspended between the sun and the sea. They watched as whitecaps broke far below—always changing, always in motion, yet ever the same. Fengel mused on what tomorrow would bring. Beside him, he knew Natasha would be wondering the same thing.
END BOOK THREE
Acknowledgements
Well. That certainly took awhile. Four long years of writing, revising, critiquing, and such a crazy adventure that I would have to write another novel to do it all justice. Now we’ve come to the end. There were high points and low points, travel across thousands of miles, and involvement from people all over the world. I couldn’t have come even remotely close to getting this far all on my lonesome.
First thanks go to Shawna, my wife, for putting up with me. I’d also like to thank my first readers: Tyler Netzel, Aaron Simons, Rori Bumgarner, and Erik Hansen. Jennifer Lerud and the rest of the Screaming Sandcrabs did a great job with critiques over the years. Thanks go to Jeremiah Reinmiller for convention support. Susan DeFreitas did a stellar job editing the entire trilogy—a truly herculean task. Ksenia Mamaeva did an amazing job with the art, which Vladimir Verano then turned into covers. Susan Morman, Anthony Thurber, Jim Holzkamm, Willy Traub, Nicholas Petrous, Leilani Corell, and Martin Pool: thank you all for helping with characters.
A shout out to all those who helped in the Kickstarter project for this novel! Paul Lamb put up with filming my ridiculous self for the video, while the amazing Erica Mulkey permitted the use of her wonderful music (check out her work at www.unwoman.com). Thanks to Rob Balder for suggestions. To all my Kickstarter backers around the globe: thank you. You’re the best. I hope you enjoy the novel, and that it proves worthy of your support.
About the Author
I haunt the Pacific Northwest. Find out more at www.jonathonburgess.com.