by Ash, C. B.
The young woman sat back in her chair in amazement. "It's all just ... I have no words."
"Wildly brilliant." Captain Hunter offered. "A masterpiece of planning, even if thoroughly evil to its roots."
Adonia then gazed at Hunter and smiled slightly, her snake-like tentacles moved slowly in a soft, swaying rhythm. "Obrigado for the compliment, though." She said softly. "I think that is the nicest thing you've said to me in years."
Hunter blushed slightly. "Well, yes. However, it's factual. As I understand it, everyone down there was vital. One less? It might not have turned out as well. We stopped what RiBeld was up to, for the moment."
"You might say, stopped the greater threat for now? I remember you saying such words a long time ago over another problem you helped to solve." Adonia looked around until she saw a dusty glass decanter of brandy tucked securely away on a shelf within her arm's reach. She pulled it from the shelf and located two small glass tumblers nearby. She set the glasses on the table and poured a small amount of the dark, amber fluid into them.
Hunter accepted the cup she handed him and considered the liquid inside silently. Adonia watched a moment before she replaced the stopper in the decanter.
"Anthony, how long will you go on like this? Being a martyr, alone?" She asked, picking up her glass.
He looked up to meet her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"You didn't need to take the journal. I understand why you did, and to some extent, it makes sense. However, you could just tie it to a rock and bury it. You're going to carry it with you, instead. Just like you're carrying the anger over me and what happened so long ago. Anyone that could plan what RiBeld did has vast resources. You're keeping that journal to use yourself as bait. You can't do that."
"Why not?" Hunter asked firmly with a strong note of defiance in his voice. "He must be stopped eventually."
Adonia reached across the table and put her hand on his. "Because you shouldn't do this alone. You don't even need to, you know? You've many a friend who'll stand with you. Your crew, the Von Pattersons, and myself. You're quite brilliant, but you've not his resources." She squeezed his hand gently. "You are wealthier than him in that you've allies he doesn't. If you would try coming down from that tree you nail yourself to, you'd see they are ready to stand by you. Let go of the past. If not for me, for your crew, for the Von Pattersons."
Hunter toyed with his glass nervously. His face was set in a deep frown. "I ... don't know how well I can. Some days, anger is all I have to keep me going."
Adonia squeezed his hand again with a gentle smile. "Then be angry. Be angry at the evil you've found yourself up against, meu guerreiro. If Archibald RiBeld is such a man to conceive of what I saw, he deserves your anger." She leaned back, and raised her glass in a toast. "To the future?"
The captain's glance shifted from his own cup, to Adonia's, then to Adonia herself. Slowly a small, if proper, smile found its way to Hunter's face. He raised his own glass and tapped it lightly to hers.
"Full steam ahead." Hunter said with a nod.
About the Author
C. B. Ash holds degrees as a Physical Scientist and Computer Scientist. Since college, he has run his own networking business, worked as laboratory technician, taught martial arts, and traveled for several years as a software engineering consultant.
During that time he has written several fantasy and science fiction short stories, a fantasy/murder mystery novel and several poems. One of which garnered him the Emily Dickinson Award in Poetry. His first novel, Kinloch, was published in May, 2004. Tales of the Brass Griffin: Dead Air is the third in the Tales of the Brass Griffin series. To find out more, visit: http://BrassGriffin.com.