by Clayton Wood
That must be the captain's bridge, she reasoned.
They came to another door, and led Ariana through a maze of corridors, then up a flight of stairs. She memorized the way, marking each hallway, each door in her mind. They eventually came to a door at the end of another hallway, and Rusty banged on it with his fist in a series of short raps. The door swung open, revealing a tall, muscular man with a fierce scowl. He was bald and clean-shaven, and dressed in a simple white t-shirt and shorts.
“Evening Grotes,” Rusty greeted. The man in the doorway nodded back tiredly, then turned to Ariana, stifling a yawn.
“This the other stowaway?” Grotes asked. Rusty nodded. “Bring her in,” Grotes ordered. “Put her with the other one.”
“Yes sir,” Scar replied. Ariana felt Scar grab her arm, yanking her from Rusty's grasp and pulling her into the room past Grotes. She found herself in a large room with expensive-looking rugs and fine wooden furniture. A fire crackled in the fireplace to the left, and at the far-right corner sat a large red couch. And lying on it...
“Kyle!” Ariana exclaimed.
* * *
Kyle groaned, opening his eyes. He found himself lying on a red couch, drool on the side of his mouth, his head resting on his dreamweaver pillow. He sat up, wiping the drool away, and looked around. He was in a small but luxurious room, and several strange men were standing near him...as well as a very familiar girl.
What the hell?
He stood from the couch, or tried to; a bald, muscular man stepped between them shoving Kyle back with one brawny arm. Kyle stumbled back onto the couch, glaring at the man.
“Sit your ass down,” the man growled. He turned to Ariana, who stared back icily. “You, get on the couch next to him.” Ariana just stood there staring at him, until the man behind her – a burly man with a long scar down the side of his face – shoved his rifle into the small of her back. She took the blow without moving or saying a word, her eyes still locked on the man who’d shoved Kyle.
“Touch him again,” she warned, “...and I’ll break your hands.”
The bald man stared at Ariana, then sighed.
“She’s got fire in her, doesn’t she Grotes?” the man with the scar on his face declared. The bald man – Grotes – ignored him.
“Just get on the damn couch,” Grotes ordered. Ariana glared at him, then finally walked – slowly – to the couch. She sat next to Kyle, grabbing his hand in her own.
“You okay?” she whispered. Kyle nodded.
“What happened?” he asked. The last thing he remembered, he’d fallen asleep on top of the crates, Ariana at his side.
“Shut up,” Grotes ordered tiredly. He stood over them, rubbing his face for a moment, then pointing at Kyle. “How did you get on the Defiance?” Kyle stared at him blankly. “This ship,” Grotes growled. Kyle paused, then glanced at Ariana. Grotes walked up and slammed his hand into the wall near Kyle's head with a terrible bang, glaring down at him. “I asked you a question,” he growled.
“Last night,” Kyle answered.
“That's when,” Grotes retorted. “I asked how.”
“We snuck on,” Ariana interjected. “We hid in barrels,” she added. Grotes turned his glare to her.
“I wasn't asking you.”
“She's telling the truth,” Kyle insisted, squirming in his seat. He glanced over Grotes' shoulder, at the man with the rifle. Would a gravity shield stop a bullet? He had no idea. They couldn't hurt Ariana, but if they fired at him...
“Well that's just dandy,” Grotes growled, stepping back and standing straight up. “Because you two just confessed to a crime.” He smiled grimly. “Let's see if it's a felony.” He turned to face the short, pudgy red-haired man. “Rusty, get me the orb.”
“Yes sir,” Rusty replied, leaving the room. Grotes turned back to Kyle and Ariana. He was about to say something when the door burst open.
“What's going on?” A voice demanded. Kyle leaned to the side, seeing an older man striding into the room. He was perhaps six feet tall, with short salt-and-pepper hair and a full beard, dressed in a blood-red uniform. Various medals glittered on his chest, and affixed to his belt was a sword on his left, and a pistol on his right. Everyone in the room stood a little straighter when the man entered, saluting him instantly.
“Captain!” they said in unison.
“I believe I asked a question,” the captain stated wearily. He turned a quick eye on Kyle and Ariana, then turned to Grotes, clasping his hands behind his back and staring at him impatiently.
“Stowaways Captain,” Grotes answered. “We found them hiding in the cargo bay.”
“How did they get there?”
“They claim to have hidden in barrels Captain,” Grotes replied. The Captain sighed.
“All barrels and crates were to be visually inspected and Tested per my order,” the Captain stated. “You will instruct the inspection crew accordingly and dock their pay at your discretion.”
“Yes Captain,” Grotes replied. The Captain turned a weary eye on Kyle and Ariana.
“Have they been Tested?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Grotes replied. “Rusty is on it.” The Captain nodded curtly.
“Carry on,” he replied.
“If they Test positive?” Grotes asked. The Captain glanced back at Kyle and Ariana.
“Drain them, shoot them, and throw them overboard.”
“Yes Captain.”
“I will return,” the Captain informed, turning about sharply and walking out of the room. The door closed behind him with a click.
Kyle swallowed in a dry throat, his heart pounding in his chest.
“What's this Test?” Ariana asked, staring at the man with the rifle, who glared at her.
“We didn't give you permission to talk,” he growled.
“You'll find out soon enough,” Grotes answered, pulling up a chair and sitting down on it. He crossed his arms and leaned back, stifling another yawn. Then he turned to Ariana. “The Test,” he stated, “...is for magic.” He gave them a tight smile. “You make it, you die.”
“What?” Kyle blurted out. “Why?”
“You sound worried,” Grotes commented, raising an eyebrow.
“And if we don't make magic?” Ariana interjected. Grotes turned to her.
“That's up to the Captain.”
Kyle turned to Ariana, feeling his pulse quicken. She stared back at him, squeezing his hand – hard. The muscles of her jaw tightened, and her eyes darted to the man with the gun, the barrel still aimed right at them. Kyle knew what she was thinking...whether or not to fight back. With Kyle’s magic and her incredible strength and speed, these sailors wouldn’t stand a chance against them. But then they’d have to leave the ship, and their mission would be in peril.
The door to the room opened, and Rusty walked through. In one hand was a small, clear crystalline orb, about the size of an orange. It was instantaneously familiar...a Finder stone.
The door opened again, and the Captain walked through.
“Let us commence,” the Captain ordered, pointing at Kyle. “Test him first.” Rusty paused, then walked toward, the Finder stone in hand. Kyle squeezed Ariana's hand, leaning to whisper in her ear.
“Remember the window in the Tower?”
Ariana frowned, then nodded slightly. She squeezed his hand once, hopefully indicating that she understood what he meant. She’d drained the magically-warded window in the Tower using her shard previously; if she could do something similar to the Finder stone...
“No talking,” Grotes grumbled. Kyle glanced at the Finder stone; it glittered in the soft yellow light of the lanterns.
“Take the orb son,” Rusty instructed, stopping before him. He extended the orb out toward Kyle, who stared at it mutely.
“Why are you stalling, boy?” Grotes asked. He turned to the Captain. “Think he's weaving?”
“It doesn't matter,” the Captain replied, his piercing eyes locking on Kyle's. “Magic has no power here.”
Kyle stared at the orb, feeling his mouth go dry. He glanced at Ariana again, who was sitting as still as a statue. Streaks of blue light began to pull into her forehead...all of them coming from him. He turned back to the Captain, wondering at what he'd said.
Magic has no power here?
“Take the damn orb, boy!” Grotes commanded, standing up from his chair suddenly. The Captain reached for the pistol at his right hip, unholstering it.
“I will take your refusal as an admission of guilt,” he stated casually. He raised the pistol, aiming it at Kyle's forehead.
“No, don't!” Kyle cried.
“Take it,” Rusty urged.
Kyle stared at the orb, then at the two guns aimed at him. Blue rays were still streaking from his body to Ariana...much more faintly now, but still there. He paused, then reached for the orb, feeling sweat pour down his flanks. He swallowed in a dry throat, then reached out for a thread of magic in his mind, to weave a gravity shield.
Rusty dropped the orb into his hands.
“Open your eyes boy,” he heard Grotes order. Kyle obeyed, seeing the First Mate standing next to the Captain. He glanced down at the Finder stone.
It was clear!
“Test the girl,” the Captain ordered, training his pistol on Ariana's forehead. Ariana reached immediately for the Finder stone, taking it from Kyle's hands. She held it in front of her, her eyes never leaving the Captain. Again, the crystal remained clear; Ariana had drained all of the magic from her body and stored it in her shard.
“I'll take that,” Rusty stated, retrieving the Finder stone. The Captain lowered his pistol, placing it back in its holster. He turned to Kyle.
“Why are you on my ship?” he asked. Kyle blinked, glancing at Ariana, then back at the Captain. His mind raced, trying to come up with an excuse. Why hadn't they created a cover story before reaching the ship? He felt Ariana pat his hand.
“We're trying to escape...” Ariana began, but the Captain cut her off with a gesture.
“I asked him,” he interjected. “Speak boy.”
“Uh...” Kyle mumbled. He stared blankly at the Captain.
“What's wrong with him?” Grotes asked Ariana. “Is he slow?” Ariana paused, then nodded.
“He is,” she confirmed. Kyle blinked, then turned to her incredulously. He was slow? She just patted him on top of the head, staring at him piteously. “He got hit in the head when he was younger,” she explained.
“That explains a lot,” Grotes muttered, turning to the Captain. “He must not have understood the Test, thought he was going to be shot.”
“Indeed,” the Captain murmured. He stared at Kyle for a long moment, then turned back to Ariana. “Continue.”
“We were trying to escape Stridon,” Ariana explained. “To get away before the city was attacked again.”
“Understandable,” the Captain replied. “But illegal. And my country will refuse you entry without the proper immigration paperwork. You will be returned to Stridon.”
“You can't!” Ariana exclaimed. The Captain raised one eyebrow.
“I can and will,” he countered. “I will complete my return to Verhan, and you will remain in this ship until the next shipment to Stridon. You will be returned to your parents at that time.”
“I don't have any,” Ariana shot back. Grotes rolled his eyes.
“Great, an orphan,” he muttered.
“Then you will be returned to your authorities for processing,” the Captain decided.
“You don't understand,” Ariana complained. “My parents were murdered,” she added. “By Weavers.” She spat the last word out, as if it were a curse word. The Captain stared at Ariana for a long moment.
“Go on.”
“I come from Mortown,” she continued. “A group of Weavers attacked my village in the middle of the night, killing almost everyone.” She lowered her gaze. “They burned my home to the ground, then took me underground as a prisoner.”
“I heard of these raids,” Grotes admitted. “It was the talk of the bars two months ago, on my last trip here. Some sort of cult, they said.”
“Death Weavers,” Ariana agreed. “They held me for over a year before I escaped.” She turned to Kyle. “He was the only other survivor from my town...I brought him with me when I escaped.” She smiled, squeezing his hand. “I've been taking care of him ever since.”
Kyle tried his very hardest not to glare at her.
“Continue,” the Captain prompted.
“We made it to Stridon,” she said. “But the...authorities, they treated us like criminals. Held us, kept questioning us about the Death Weavers, as if we were hiding some secret about them.” She paused, taking a deep, shaky breath in, then letting it out. “When the...attack came, we managed to escape, but I knew it was just a matter of time before they found us again.”
“Thus your plan,” the Captain deduced. Ariana nodded.
“I knew we had no future in the Empire,” she muttered. “They don't care about people like us,” she added, turning to Kyle and running a hand over his scalp. “People who don't make magic.”
“That,” the Captain stated crisply, rubbing his chin with one hand, “is more true than you can ever know, child.” He regarded Ariana and Kyle for a long moment, then sighed. “Regarding your illegal departure from Stridon, and your illegal entry onto the Defiance, that I will forgive.” He turned to Grotes. “Rent them a room,” he ordered. “They will pay in full through daily manual labor.” He turned back to Ariana. “No days off, no special treatment. You will excel in both obedience and effort, or I will withdraw my offer.”
“Yes sir,” Ariana replied.
“Yes Captain,” the Captain corrected. “As regards your desire to emigrate, I will discuss the matter with Verhan authorities when we arrive at port.”
“Captain,” Grotes interjected, pointing to a tabletop nearby. Kyle saw two very familiar backpacks sitting there. “We found contraband in their bags.” He reached into one bag, pulling out one of Kyle's gravity boots. “They've got crystals in them.”
“Test them.”
Rusty brought the Finder stone to the boots, then the Aegis, and Ariana's Tempest cloak. To Kyle's relief, the stone remained clear with each. Ariana’s shard had drained them as well.
“Return them to our guests,” the Captain ordered.
“Yes sir.”
“That will be all,” The Captain stated. He turned about sharply then, and walked out of the room, the door closing behind him.
Kyle let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
“Rusty,” Grotes grumbled, gesturing for Ariana and Kyle to stand up. “Show these two to their rooms.”
“Yes sir,” Rusty replied. He grabbed their backpacks, then gestured for Ariana and Kyle to follow him. They left the First Mate's quarters, traveling through a maze of hallways and down several flights of stairs before arriving in a long hallway with doors on either side. Rusty stopped before one of the doors, opening it and ushering them through. Kyle found himself in a cramped room – smaller than his bathroom at the Tower – with a bunk bed on the far wall.
“Key is hanging on the hook,” Rusty informed. He smiled then, dropping their backpacks on the floor. “Glad to have you aboard.”
“Thanks,” Ariana replied. Rusty's smile broadened, and he nodded, then walked out of the room, the door shutting behind him. As soon as it closed, Ariana grabbed the key from the hook, locking the door.
“I'm slow?” Kyle hissed, glaring at Ariana. She shrugged innocently.
“You were taking too long,” she countered. “I just went with Grotes.”
“You pat my head like I was a moron!” he complained. Ariana's lips twitched, then broadened into a smile, and she put a cool hand on top of his head, ruffling his hair.
“You're so cute,” she cooed. Kyle stepped out of her reach.
“Now I have to act dumb all the time,” he groused. Ariana smirked.
“Act?”
> “Oooh, you're asking for it,” Kyle warned, pointing a finger at her. Ariana laughed, batting it away, then sliding in and hugging him.
“I'm just kidding,” she murmured, giving him a gentle squeeze. She pulled away, staring at him with her adorable eyes. “I'm just glad we're okay now.” Kyle hesitated, then smiled back.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. “So I guess we're part of the crew now.”
“Yeah.”
“We'll do whatever they say until we get close to port, then head off on our own,” he said. “You should keep us drained, just in case they decide to test us again.”
“Agreed.”
“We should ask when we're supposed to arrive, then jump ship the night before,” he added. He reached down to one of the backpacks, pulling out the rolled-up map and unrolling it. He searched the map carefully. “Verhan is here,” he observed, pointing to a dot on the eastern coast of the continent opposite the Empire. Ariana's eyebrows went up.
“How can you read that?” she asked.
“Master Lee gave me a book,” he replied, remembering the toddler’s book he'd been given. No need for her to know that little detail. “I've been practicing.”
“So if Verhan is there, then we'll be...” Ariana paused, measuring with her fingers. “Maybe three hundred miles away from Sabin.”
“Not bad,” Kyle replied, stifling another yawn.
“You should get some more sleep,” Ariana counseled. “Which bunk do you want?”
“I'll take bottom.” He rolled onto the bed, rather dismayed at its firmness. It was hardly the plush, comfortable mattress he'd gotten accustomed to in Kalibar's suite. “Hey,” he called out. “That flat gravity field you made, the one I slept on.”
“Yeah?”
“Can you teach me how to do that?” he asked.
“Now?”
“If that's okay,” Kyle replied. He'd been thinking about it ever since Ariana had woven it. The potential applications were enormous...far more useful than a sphere.
“Sure,” Ariana agreed. She motioned for him to scoot over, and she laid down beside him. She traced the pattern in the air above them.