by LJ Andrews
A flicker of light drew her attention to the side. Her brow furrowed, and she stepped closer to the edge of the island. A faint glow was swaying in the clear night and it was coming closer. Was it a star? Glancing up, she saw the first twinkling dots peek through the purple backdrop; this was no star.
“Kale, Atlas,” she said, waving her hand for them to come closer. “Do you see that?”
“It looks like a…lantern,” Atlas said.
He was right—it was clear to see as it came closer, the object was a burning flame swaying in the wind currents.
“It’s a ship,” Kale exclaimed. “Should we warn your father?”
“It’s not a ship,” Atlas argued, rolling his eyes.
“That is a ship,” Kale retorted.
Nova shushed them both, straining her eyes to get a better look at the mysterious vessel inching ever closer.
Kale was right, it was a ship. The hull was wide, and the bow and stern seemed stunted, as if something had pressed against the front and back, squashing them inward. The sails were thin and billowed like paper against the night currents, but the strange sound the ship made through the silence of the evening caught her special attention. Bruuuum, thwump, click. Bruuuum, thwump. click. The lantern on the stern flickered in time with each sound as if the ship moved forward in accordance to the strange noises.
On the sides were long oars jutting from the gun ports that chopped at the sky like jerky hatchets. On the bruuum they went down. Thwump they moved forward, then dragged back, and click, they reset in the upper position ready to dive back into the current. Nova’s jaw dropped when she realized the center mast was no mast at all. A large pipe stood tall and straight in the center of the ship, blowing out black clouds of smoke as the ship propelled onward with the noisy oars.
“That looks machine powered,” Kale said, coming up behind her watching as the ship cut straight through a line of clouds before dropping one side of oars and leaving the others held up as the ship turned on the port side until it lined up next to the small dock on the outer part of the cave.
“Machine?” Nova said, bewildered. “How could a ship be machine powered?”
She turned to follow Atlas and Kale toward the dock as they rushed to greet the ship. She looked around, waiting for a large crew to appear from the gun deck and disembark, but no one came. The ship bobbed silently, the black smoke hissing as the vessel settled to a final stop, until it finally dissipated into the blue dusk light.
Several people rushed out from inside the cave as a gangplank rolled out from the main deck. Huge coils and a continuous track rolled out from the metal bridge. Even those waiting on the dock backed away, surprised by the heavy plank lowering without assistance.
Hadwin made his way through the crowd, and Nova caught his elbow. “Hadwin, what is this?” she asked, her eyes wide and enthralled at the ship full of contraptions. “How is this ship powered?”
Hadwin smiled, his golden eyes sparkling. “I wondered if you would be impressed with Mr. Kobb’s ship,” he said, stepping up to the gangplank.
“Mr. Kobb?”
“Nova, meet the finest weaponsmith in the entire kingdom. Lanson Kobb.”
Her eyes trailed the plank to the top of the deck. A cloud of settling smoke withered into gray wisps as the air cleared. A man propelled to the edge of the deck in a wicker chair on wheels. The man in the chair smiled wildly, his gray hair crimped and frizzy in the breeze. He wore a pair of thick goggles which magnified his eyes three times their normal size. He wore fingerless black gloves on his hands to protect against the wheels of his chair, and his fingertips were black as if he spent hours digging through the ash in a fireplace.
He pushed himself down the plank, gaining speed toward the crowd. The chair creaked and came dangerously close to wobbling over the edge of the plank several times. When it seemed Kobb was about to ram into a line of people, he gripped the spinning wheels tightly and skidded masterfully to a stop next to Hadwin.
Now, Nova could see all of the eccentric Mr. Kobb. One leg was missing just above the knee, and on the other, a peg was in place of his ankle and foot.
“Hadwin,” Kobb said holding out his dirty hand for the Djinn. “I see ye be causin’ quite a fuss, eh?”
“Kobb, thank you for coming. You’re a difficult man to find. Corrinne said she made contact with you, but when we didn’t hear back, we thought the worst,” Hadwin said, clasping Kobb’s hand tightly.
“Well, I’ll be…just send that purty lass again an’ I’ll come whe’er ye need me. Now, where’s that man who thinks he be some kinda pirate?” Kobb leaned closer and whispered loudly in a raspy voice. “We’s all know he be just a pimple in them skies though.”
Hadwin laughed and slapped Kobb on the shoulder. “Varick is inside setting up a shop for you. But you might be interested in meeting his daughter.”
Hadwin pointed in Nova’s direction and Kobb quickly powered himself toward her. “Ah, what a vision,” he said taking Nova’s hand in his and giving the top a wet kiss. “What a lassy like ye doin’ in a mess of these good fur nothin’s?”
Nova smiled, feeling unable to resist his crude charm. “I’m here to help, much like you, I would suppose.”
“How is he going to help?” Atlas whispered to Kale. His voice was so low, Nova barely heard him.
Kobb kept smiling at Nova, and his eyes sparkled with mad excitement behind the goggles. Lifting his wrist, he twisted a metal band in a full rotation until it locked in place with a soft click. He pulled a small pouch, which seemed to be full of air, and held it tight in his hand. Giving the pouch a gentle squeeze, a silver tube popped up from the wrist band and a small dart sped past her face, hitting Atlas on the side of his neck.
Atlas gasped, his hand grappling for the thin wooden dart lodged in his skin. It had bright blue feathers and seemed as if it would be harmless from the size. But the moment Atlas ripped it from his neck, he stumbled, eyes wide, and fell on the ground.
“Atlas!” Nova cried. “What did you do?”
Kobb laughed heartily, clapping his hands together with glee, and snapping the dart tube back into the metal band.
“You’re mad,” Kale cried at Kobb, joining Nova at Atlas’s side.
Atlas didn’t speak, but lay flat on his back, his eyes whirling around in confusion.
Kobb calmed slightly, just chuckling as he wheeled next to them. Glancing down at Atlas, he seemed to enjoy his widened eyes as he approached. “Just be glad I only used me blue darts. Them only stiffen’ yer limbs fur a bit. He’ll be right as rain in a jiff. But maybe he be seein’ a little more value in what I be doin’ here and won’t be questionin’ me again. If ye do, boy, ye’ll be meetin’ me black darts. An’ ye don’t wanna meet me black darts.”
Kobb laughed wildly again, slapping the arms on his chair before ripping the wheeled chair across the stone floor. Hadwin followed, glancing at Nova sympathetically, though she detected a hint of amusement in his features.
Kale gave Atlas a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Hang in there,” he said when Atlas started groaning deep in his throat as if trying to speak.
“He’s a mad man,” Nova said, her jaw dropping in disbelief at what had just played out.
Kale stood, brushing the dust from his pants. He glanced once more at Atlas, whose neck muscles were clenching as he desperately tried to sit up. With his handsome half-smile, Kale folded his arms across his broad chest and watched Kobb and Hadwin disappear around the corner to the inner tunnels. “I don’t know,” he said shrugging nonchalantly. “I kind of like him.”
Chapter 6
Joining the Djinn
Chechan spent the better part of two days guiding Raine around the town of Luge, her small village nestled at the base of Mount Dia. One might believe the quaint homes and townspeople were the most pleasant and happy people were it not for the fact Raine was supposed to believe the people of the Below, or Unten as she now referred to it by its proper name, were meant to be oppresse
d.
But as Raine joined different families at their tables for meals or table games, a new light was cast upon the people of Unten. They laughed and teased one another. Their children attended classes in a small building just at the bottom of the lane, free to learn. They were overall healthy and in good spirits. No one spoke guile of another it seemed, though she had witnessed several heated exchanges in the marketplace, which were eventually resolved peacefully. Everything seemed in order, much more than in Launi Kingdom.
The clothes most people wore were different than in her world. The people she’d seen wore colorful silk, with the top tunics wrapped in vibrant sashes. The children wore duller silks, and the school-aged girls wore dresses that rustled as they ran and played. But once they became young women, they could dress in the silk pants as a tribute to their coming of age.
“Why are the designs on the sashes so different?” Raine had asked Chechan as they’d strolled to the baker’s door. The honey rolls he made every morning before the sun peaked above the temple were worth the early hour every day.
“The sashes represent each family’s history in Unten. Some have colorful ancestry with a long history of defending our world. Others have noble lineage of quietly making our world a better place. Like Samson,” Chechan had nodded at the baker, taking a roll dripping in Unten’s purple berry butter. “What would our small town do without these small bits of heaven on our palates?”
The air was wet against Raine’s face as she joined Chechan on another morning stroll, the warm rolls soaking the napkins with honey dribbles. The flagstone road winding through the long town center sparkled with misty rain water that trickled into the cracks, causing the soft bluish moss growing in between to glisten like hundreds of crystals. Raine kicked at a puddle, sending a spray of water flying. Chechan had offered her a black robe for the blustery morning, which only fell mid-leg since Chechan’s round face barely reached the middle of Raine’s upper arm.
Raine glanced up at the gilded temple, half hidden beneath the heavy storm clouds. The trails leading up the side of Mount Dia were wide open and perfectly accessible to the people of Luge and the entire empire of Unten. She smiled at the flowering plants turning their leaves and flower buds toward the soft sprinkles of rain that fell from the top of the mountain. It was a beautiful place, unlike anything she’d ever seen on Launi. The people respected one another, they respected the Djinn, but were not enslaved to the temple. Nowhere had she seen oppression. The people worked their fields as did farmers above. They traded goods in fairness and honesty. Their children read thick books of Unten fairytales or tales of grand explorers traversing the dark corners of the land. How could they have been so wrong about the people of the Below?
“What runs through your thoughts?” Chechan asked in her typically philosophical way.
Raine bit the inside of her lip, wondering how open she should be with the woman. Her heart urged her to stay vague, yet her mind pounded against her inner judgment as if someone reached inside and pulled the truth from her throat.
“I fear my friends could be in trouble. We believed Unten was filled with oppression. We believed the Djinn to be tyrants, holding a loved one hostage. And now I fear what danger my friends are getting into trying to set us all free. I imagine the last they saw of me caused them to believe my life could be in great danger. I wish there was some way to reach out to them and tell them all is well.”
Chechan folded her napkin methodically, tucking it inside an inner pocket in her tunic. Her sash was decorated with chevrons in blue, green, and gold stripes. It was a simpler sash, but beautiful. The only information she’d offered about her family’s history was they had once been guides for travelers. They kept people safe by leading them in the right direction. Raine had tried to garner stories or experiences from the woman, but she’d only smiled coyly and turned the focus to another family.
“What do you suppose would be a wise course to take to better serve your companions?” Chechan asked after a thoughtful pause.
Raine swallowed hard, fighting against her constricting vocal cords. Her heart pounded wildly as she took in the beautiful wilderness near the fence line of Chechan’s yard. The flowers were teeming with life. Glistening, hard-bodied insects buzzed lazily around the centers, and toads with yellow eyes that swiveled back and forth hopped around snatching up their breakfast.
“Raine?” Chechan said again.
Glancing at the older woman, Raine leaned against a large stone and hung her head. “I don’t know what to do, Chechan. I don’t know how to reach them.”
Chechan clicked her tongue and watched the swirling rays of fire erupt into the morning sky. “I have an inkling you know what to do. Is your pride so great you will not humble yourself as you seek guidance, even if your companions’ lives depend on it?”
As if a burning poker stuck into the center of her chest, Raine bit back the burning tears at Chechan’s harsh yet honest words. Was she so determined not to trust the temple that she would allow Nova, Atlas, and Kale to risk their lives for her?
“You think I should ask the Djinn for help?” she asked, though she knew the answer.
Chechan nodded, tugging at a deeply rooted weed growing along the fence. “I think you will find much wisdom and peace of mind if you seek guidance from the temple. You have given me your trust. Now, you must give it to those who have brought you here and delivered the truth unto you.”
“What can they do for me?” Raine asked, glancing up at the tall mountain.
Chechan scoffed. “That is for you to discover. Come, let me prepare you something more to eat on your way. I hope you have learned there is nothing to fear in Unten.”
Raine trudged up the winding dirt path holding a small handkerchief filled with berries and bread from Chechan. Looking off the ledge of one switchback near the top, she studied Luge and the neighboring villages she had yet to visit. The people had treated her kindly. They hadn’t asked for anything. Part of her had expected someone to hand her a secret note, or give her a special look to let her know how truly horrible life was in the Below. Chechan had introduced her to family after family, and even random visitors strolling into Luge from other provinces in Unten smiled and waved.
“We were wrong,” she said to the breeze.
Her stomach turned in tight knots as she imagined what kind of chaos was happening in Launi. Where was Atlas…Nova? Had they already tried to make the dangerous journey in the Unknown to find the mountain?
Raine held her breath, pushing the gold gate into the main garden just off the side of the temple. She refused to let her mind go to the worst scenario, but it was possible no one was coming for her because they were already gone.
The upper garden was concealed in the stormy clouds, and now the grand spire was visible to her once she climbed above the cloud line. She breathed in a new determination to ask the Djinn for help. It might be her friends’ only chance at survival if they tried to cross into the Unknown. The people of Unten had shown her a great apprehension for the space between Launi and the Below. She’d heard whispers of ferocious beasts that would swallow a ship whole. Creatures who could not be killed with standard weapons, and dangerous magic that could warp a mind so terribly the individual would forget every sense of who they were.
The gate latched behind her and the garden invited her closer with sweet smells and chirping songbirds fluttering through the branches. The garden staff must have moved on to a lower terrace, for it was empty and peaceful as the day ended.
Raine gathered the hem of the pale green dress a woman in Luge had gifted her. The silk was as smooth as melted chocolate and billowed around her legs like thin paper with every step. Raine felt freer the closer she came to the temple door. She was doing the right thing, at least that is what she kept repeating to herself as she climbed the grand stairs toward the side entrance.
She paused, her hand hovering over the intricate handle. The lump in her throat seemed to bulge as apprehension filled her hear
t again.
“Welcome back,” Lurlina’s smooth voice said from behind her.
Raine jumped back from the door, startled. Lurlina was seated on a stone bench, stroking the neck of a red and green bird. Her eyes sparkled and her bright red lips pulled into a relieved smile. She wore a billowing white robe that gathered at her feet like a drift of pure pearly snow.
“I didn’t see you,” Raine said, clutching her hand to her chest.
Lurlina released the bird back into the sky and patted the space next to her on the bench. “Please, sit. I look forward to hearing about your time in the villages.”
Her back was stiff, and she sat close to the edge, not wanting to be too near Lurlina as if being too close would somehow throw her under a spell.
Lurlina kept smiling, braiding the ends of her hair. “Well, what do you think of the people?” she asked sweetly.
“They were very welcoming,” Raine replied.
Lurlina nodded. “Most are. Did you find the answers you were seeking?”
Raine turned away, reluctant to ask Lurlina for help, though she knew there was no longer any reason to carry the heavy weight of distrust in her chest. When Raine didn’t respond right away, Lurlina continued.
“We wondered if we ought to have sent someone to inquire on your welfare when you didn’t return, but Pacem assured me you were well taken care of. He is so perceptive, but even without Pacem, I am sensing something troubles you greatly. I would love to help ease your burdens if you’d let me.”
Raine faced Lurlina, her eyes wide and insistent. “You say I am from the Djinn lineage, yet I have never heard this until now. How can I be certain you aren’t just trying to convince me to stay here with you?”
Lurlina rubbed a velvety petal between her thumb and forefinger, furrowing her perfect brow line. “I suppose you don’t know. But I hope you can find it within yourself to believe that even without Djinn lineage, I would have treated you the same, Raine. I promised to explain a bit of your history, hoping it would give clarity about that wretched king who forced you to marry. There was a reason you were selected, and it was because of your lineage. That is all. But there is more that troubles you. Tell me, you can trust me.”