Renegade Skyfarer

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by R. J. Metcalf




  Renegade Skyfarer

  Stones of Terrene Chronicles

  Book One

  R. J. Metcalf

  Copyright © 2018 R. J. Metcalf

  Published in Santa Clarita, California by R. J. Metcalf

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be

  reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means

  without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

  and incidents are either used fictitiously or are products of

  the author’s imagination. All characters are fictional, and any

  similarity to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Cover design © 2018: Magpie Designs, Ltd

  Photo credit: Pixabay

  Model: Eric Sasina photographed by Bryan Wark

  Texture credit: Sascha Duensing

  ISBN-10: 1986799794

  ISBN-13: 978-1986799799

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Epilogue

  Renegade Skyfarer Register

  To Mike, the one who first daydreamed this amazing world.

  Thank you for sharing it with me and making this entire series a dream come true for both of us.

  Acknowledgments

  This book and series is truly a labor of love, and like all labors of love, there’s a host of people supporting the production and the insanity behind it all.

  I have to give a huge thank you to my mom and dad for all the sleepovers they’ve had with my boys. Keeping those two energetic monkeys content can be quite the challenge, and I appreciate your sacrifice of sanity for me to have a quiet house to write in.

  This would never have happened if God hadn’t arranged for me to meet Jamie Foley through a chance online encounter. Through that, a friendship blossomed between Fire Nation West and Fire Nation South that rocked all semblance of sanity. Jamie, if you hadn’t pushed for us to start writing, I doubt Mike and I would’ve considered this endeavor for at least another decade. Thank you for being stubborn.

  Thank you to my paladin “framily,” who let me bounce ideas at random times (oftentimes interrupting other nerdiness going on), and who kept me encouraged and excited about this project even on days where I was feeling at my wits’ end. Never forget: One must die.

  Huge shout-out to my beta team for all their help with pointing out rough patches and letting me know when I was getting too gross in my bloody descriptions: Karen, Lizzy, Scott, Abbey, Janine, Kathy, Amy Grace, Josh, and Hannah, y’all rock. Renegade Skyfarer would not be what it is today without your insights!

  And my amazing, patient, bloody-brilliant production team: Jamie Foley, C. W. Briar, Bryan Wark, Eric Sasina, S. D. Grimm, LoriAnn Weldon, Janeen Ippolito, H. A. Titus, Sarah Delena White, and Julia Busko. You took this rock of a book and noob of an author and worked us into a polished gem. Thank you.

  And all glory to God in the Highest, the Ultimate Author of All.

  Prologue

  Chilly predawn wind cut through Blade’s patched coat. His toes ached from the numbing cold that seeped through his worn boots, but he couldn’t leave the observation deck of the airship. Not even if he wanted to.

  Master stood in front of Blade, deliberating with the first mate, Lupin. Shadows added depth to Lupin’s scowl as he shoved his hands under his arms.

  “I’m leaving.” Crystal lamps illuminated Master’s angular face, showcasing inky hair that rippled in the winter breeze. “I have a mission of utmost importance.” He settled a black bowler hat on his head and snugged it down, trapping flyaway strands.

  Lupin nodded, the leather straps on his air-cap swinging with the motion. “Yessir.” His gaze darted past Master to rest on Blade. Caution and a hint of hatred reflected in Lupin’s pupils. “Are you taking him with you?”

  Blade tightened his eyes and stared back at Lupin. Like you care.

  “No, I’ll be going alone.” Master half-turned to regard Blade with a slanted eyebrow. Then Master pulled something small from his white coat pocket with a detached flourish and pivoted back to Lupin. A finely wrought silver bracelet of woven metals with an inlaid red gem rested in Master’s open palm. He held it out to Lupin. “It’ll give you the same type of control over Blade that I have, but my controller overrides yours. Don’t get any ideas.”

  No. Get ideas.

  “Thank you, sir.” Lupin slipped the thin band over his wrist and inspected the gem with a critical eye. “And it will work? Even with you wearing yours?”

  “Try it and find out.”

  Lupin grinned and gestured at Blade with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Polish my boots with your shirt.”

  Blade barely had time to relish the resentment that warmed his gut before a familiar haze rose from the edges of his mind and pushed his emotions aside. It moved him forward without conscious thought to kneel before Lupin. He shrugged off his jacket and his shirt, shivering when the icy air bit into his skin. He scrubbed his last clean shirt against Lupin’s mud-caked boots while his teeth chattered.

  Lupin chuckled as he pushed his boot toward Blade’s face. “I could get used to this. How long do you expect your mission to take, sir?”

  “A few months, at least.” The deck vibrated underfoot as Master paced. He pivoted, and his heel squeaked on the worn wood of the airship deck. “I need you to keep searching for that bloodstone—it’s the centerpiece of my plans for the barrier.”

  Memories of blood, wavering curtains of light, and pain, so much pain, flashed through Blade’s mind at the mention of the bloodstone. He hunched over Lupin’s boots for a long heartbeat be
fore the weight of the command bracelet faded the flashback. He shuffled sideways on the ground to better reach the heel of Lupin’s boot.

  “I’m hoping this mission will provide some clues or a lead,” Master continued, “but I expect you men to keep at your jobs.”

  “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but if you aren’t here, on board, sir, what do you want us to be doing?” Lupin asked. His hand slipped down to his sword hilt. “Perhaps we get to have some honest thieving?”

  Boots finally clean, Blade settled on his haunches and waited as the haze of compulsion faded away like mist in the sunlight. He grimaced at his filthy shirt and shook it out before slipping it back on. Because thieving is honest?

  Master shrugged. “Continue moving cargo and search for anything that may interest me. If you decide to pirate, don’t get caught. I’ll be in contact, in case you find anything useful.”

  Lupin gripped his sword belt and offered a half bow. “Yessir.”

  “And don’t use Blade recklessly,” Master added in a firm tone.

  Blade looked over his shoulder into Master’s dark eyes. It was like looking into the depths of the Aerugan Hollows—deep, dark, and deadly.

  “He’s my masterpiece, and more important than you will ever know.”

  Chapter One

  Ben

  Pain woke Ben. The disembodied screaming surrounding him ensured he’d stay awake.

  His head throbbed like waves crashing against rocks on a shoreline, and his heart pounded as if he’d been swimming against the current for hours. Even through his closed eyelids, the light was too bright, amplifying the agony throbbing in his limbs. He groaned and twisted his face away, moaning as nausea swept over him. He lay on a firm, yet soft, surface. The whole bed vibrated lightly, and he could barely make out the distant whine of machinery over the sounds of yelling, clanking, and roaring.

  Where am I?

  After a few deep breaths, he slitted his eyes open and widened them while they adjusted. Sunlight streamed in through a closed glass pane window. He was in a medical room, as evidenced by the skull on the shelf, an oddly colored diagram of the nervous system, and a tray of wicked-looking metal instruments. Pine walls held a variety of other charts—skeletal, muscular, and something full of colors and stones that he’d never seen before. Darker wood shelves displayed different colored rocks of various sizes.

  A plunking sound startled him, and he realized he wasn’t alone. A black-haired man in a calf-length white coat stood with his back to Ben. He opened drawers and dropped medical tools on the counter with a smooth haste.

  A tingle wormed its way up Ben’s spine. How did I get here?

  The unfamiliar man glanced over his shoulder, and his dark eyes widened. “You’re up.”

  Ben swallowed hard and cleared his throat of what felt like gravel. “I…yes.”

  The man strode closer and leaned over Ben. “Is your name Dubray?” He tapped against Ben’s chest, pointing out the neatly stitched name on his thick jacket.

  “I think so.” Ben sat up, wincing. Something under his shirt jingled with the movement, and he fished out a silver chain. Fastened to it was a delicate silver ring with three diamonds in a row, and a rectangular plate with smoothed edges. Small gaps ran lengthwise through the metal, as though it was designed to be snapped into two pieces. He angled it in the light and read aloud, “Dubray, Benjamin. Twenty fifteen.” He frowned. “I go by Ben, I think.” Why was his own name fuzzy?

  “Mmhmm.” The doctor nodded as he pulled down on Ben’s bottom eyelid, looking first in one eye, then the next. “I’m Jaxton, the doctor here on board the Sapphire. Do you know where you are?” He held up a yellow-toned finger before Ben could reply and continued, “Focus on this, please. You seem to be fairly healthy, aside from all your cuts and scrapes and that metal blob I removed from your leg.”

  Ben blinked away the dizziness from following Jaxton’s finger and looked down to see a bandage wrapping his calf and his bloody pant leg neatly rolled up above his knee. The bizarre situation seemed to be spiraling beyond any semblance of control, and his head throbbed with confusion. Should he admit to how little he was following this conversation, or should he pretend he knew what Jaxton was talking about? He chose the former. “A metal what?”

  Jaxton nodded toward a second tray on the counter. A bloody metallic ball sat in the shallow dish. “I pulled it out and performed a light healing to reduce the swelling. I did add stitches to give it more support. Take it easy for a few days.” Jaxton folded his arms and cocked his head. “Where are you from? How did you get that in you? Why were you so close to a dragon nest in the Wyld Woods, and unarmed?”

  Something about the shiny lump itched at Ben’s mind with a distant air of familiarity. But trying to conjure answers made his head hurt even more. A yell from beyond the door brought a fresh cascade of pain over his tired brain. “I-I don’t know. What’s going on out there? What’s the Sapphire?”

  Jaxton leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles as he surveyed Ben. “You don’t have a concussion. I can tell you that much. The Sapphire is an airship that covers a wide range of jobs—import, export, dragon hunting, and the random odd job here or there.” Jaxton shrugged and twirled a pen across his fingers. “We’re near the Perennian border currently. Do you know where that is?”

  Dragon hunting? The what border? “No. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.” Ben squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again in attempt to better focus on the clean white countertop closest to him. The sharpness of the headache began to fade. If only the commotion outside would die down, too.

  The door banged open behind Ben, and he jumped. Colors kaleidoscoped, and he scrambled to grab the lip of the bed to brace himself while the room spun.

  “What happened?” Jaxton hustled around the bed. “Are there terrors out there, too?”

  “Of course there are terrors,” a female voice snapped. “When are there not terrors during a dragon attack? This is the kind of day where everything goes wrong!”

  Ben turned slowly, trying not to aggravate the resurgent throbbing in his head. Jaxton snorted and helped settle an attractive, chocolate-skinned young woman onto the table by Ben. Something about her clothing—a burgundy blouse, ebony half-bodice, and thick brown pants—struck him as unusual, though he couldn’t say why. She hissed through her teeth as she sank down and clutched her arm to her chest. Her blood-soaked jacket slid off her arm to reveal horrid gashes surrounded by burned flesh that wept blood and clear fluid.

  A second woman hovered nearby, her blue eyes wide. She wiped a streak of blood onto her grease-stained khaki pants and gestured at her injured friend. “Do something!”

  Jaxton muttered under his breath as he pulled out a basket overflowing with gauze and bandages from the cabinet. He glanced back at Ben, set the basket on the counter, and then reached for a tray of gleaming tools. “Memory loss. It’ll likely return within a few hours or weeks. You’re free to go when you want. But don’t wander by a dragon nest. I’m not fixing you up again just because you don’t remember anything.”

  Ben dipped his chin in a slow nod. “Yessir. Thank you.” The room no longer curved around him as he turned his head, but he wasn’t about to test his legs. Not with the two newcomers watching. Besides, it wasn’t like he remembered anything yet or had anywhere to go.

  Black braids framed the injured woman’s face while she grimaced and held her flayed arm. The other woman stood against the wall, her bearing as regal as an avenging angel. No, falling in front of these two beauties was not an option. He slid down on the bench, away from the injured woman, in an effort to show consideration for her privacy.

  The other woman paced to stand in front of Ben, and she dipped her head forward, her milk-white face inches from his. Freckles lightly dotted a galaxy across her cheeks and nose, and strands of red hair waved in the air from her sudden movement. “So, you’re awake.” She shook her head and straightened, crossing her arms while raising an elegant eyebr
ow. “Lucky you. You missed all the excitement.”

  “Be nice,” the woman next to Ben said, her voice pinched in pain as Jaxton cut the sleeve away from her arm. She shot Ben a small grimace, her large brown eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “Jade’s a she-dragon when worried. Ignore her.”

  “Am not!” Jade protested. “And I’m allowed to be worried. You got slashed and burned!”

  Ben stared in horrified fascination as blood welled up in her broken flesh. Jaxton wiped it away with a clean cloth. The skin around the gashes was charred into crispy, black flakes. He chewed on his tongue to regain some moisture in his mouth. “What happened?”

  The injured woman bit back a shriek, and Jade’s voice cracked. “A terror.”

  The doctor held a basin under the woman’s arm and poured water over the injury as if deaf to her whimpers.

  Jade swallowed hard, and her eyelids fluttered shut. She clenched her fists. “I stabbed it, but not before it shocked Krista.”

  Krista sucked in a sharp breath, tears pouring down her cheeks as Jaxton blotted away the excess water. He frowned and replaced the metal pitcher and basin on the counter, then pulled a light pink stone from his white coat and held it over Krista’s arm. His brow furrowed as he half closed his eyes. He exhaled deeply and splayed his fingers, stroking the air just above her injuries. Her swollen flesh sank down to match the smooth skin of the rest of her arm. She shook and shuddered, taking deep, calming breaths.

  Ben pulled back from the two, slack-jawed. His skin crawled and the hairs on the back of his neck rose as Jaxton continued his silent ministrations. What was happening? Ben subtly pinched his arm and winced. Not dreaming.

  “We’ll stitch it together after the burns have healed a bit more,” Jaxton said as he straightened. “Too much at once isn’t a good idea for this type of injury.” He turned to the door, and only then did Ben notice the lack of chaotic noise outside. Jaxton’s lips quirked. “Enough time has passed. I expect it should be safe to go out now.” He looked to Jade. “Poke your head out and see if they’re done.”

 

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