by Clayton Wood
“I agree it's cruel,” Kalibar countered. “But attacking Sabin would be suicide.”
“Isn’t Ariana already dead?” Lee asked.
“Well yes, but...”
“So you told her to choose between being afraid for the rest of her potentially infinite life, or defying you?” Lee pressed.
Kalibar grimaced, shifting his weight in his chair.
“Right,” Lee grumbled.
“I don't have the luxury of protecting her feelings,” Kalibar protested. “With Ampir dead, nothing will stop Xanos from annihilating us. You know as well as I do that he won't settle for anything less than complete control of the Empire.”
“I don't disagree,” Lee replied. “He acts like a man who values his vision for humanity more than he values humanity itself.” She sighed. “Tyrants can justify murdering millions as long as it's for a good cause.” Kalibar raised an eyebrow at that.
“Isn't that what I did?” he mused. “I destroyed the tribes to create a unified Empire.” Lee shook her head.
“You didn't attack the tribes first,” she countered. “And you didn't attack Xanos first.” She sighed. “Xanos should be powerful enough to not need to kill everyone just to get his way.”
“I've often thought the same thing,” Kalibar agreed. “If I were Xanos, I would have stayed hidden, controlling the Empire through the living Chosen.”
“But he didn't,” Lee stated. “Why?”
“Someone was killing his Chosen,” Kalibar reasoned. “He was trying to flush out Ampir.”
“And that,” Lee replied, “...was worth more to him than the thousands of souls he attacked in the Southwest Quarter.” She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table again. “That's the kind of man we're dealing with.”
“Mmm.”
“He destroyed the old Empire,” Lee continued. “And he's clearly willing to destroy this one. He can always start over, try again.”
“And he will,” Kalibar agreed, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. “Unless we stop him.”
“You derided your children's plan,” Lee stated. “Do you have a better one?” Kalibar sighed, knowing she already knew the answer. He'd come down here to read these books for a reason.
“No.”
“Well then,” she replied, standing up from her chair and pushing it up to the table. Its wooden legs screeched against the floor. The half-dozen magical fields around them vanished abruptly. “I'll leave you to it.” She turned about then, walking away from him, toward the exit at the far end of the room.
“Thank you, Lee,” Kalibar called out to her. She waved one skinny arm without turning around.
“Didn't tell you anything you didn't already know.”
He heard the sound of a door opening and closing, and then there was silence. Kalibar rubbed his eyes, then stood up himself, stretching his aching back. He thought back to the speech he'd given to commemorate the deaths of his Battle-Weavers and elite guards in the lobby over a week ago, the one Ariana had quoted back to him:
I will give up my life to defend your right to be the captains of your own lives. I will die, as did those we commemorate, before I allow this Empire, this great nation and all it stands for, to perish.
He sighed, staring at the books scattered on the table before him for a long time, lost in thought.
* * *
By the time Kyle and Ariana had finished their work in the cargo bay and climbed the ramp to the deck of the Defiance, the sky was a bright purple-blue with the long rays cast by the setting sun dipping below the horizon. Kyle wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath from the back-breaking work of rotating the crates. Slim and Rusty were equally sweaty, and even Slim's mouth was tired, to everyone’s relief. Ariana, to both Slim and Rusty's amazement, wasn't sweating one bit. In fact, she looked positively radiant in the dying sunlight, her skin like porcelain, her short black hair rippling in the crisp ocean breeze. Kyle was enormously grateful for her help in the cargo bay earlier; long after he'd utterly exhausted himself, she'd picked up the slack, using her enormous strength to push the crates by herself while he just pretended to push.
The strong breeze felt marvelous on Kyle's hot, sweaty skin, and he closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy it. Then he glanced at Rusty and Slim.
“What now?” he asked.
“Now we eat,” Rusty answered. Kyle's stomach growled immediately; they'd snacked a bit while working in the cargo hold, but Kyle hadn't had a full meal since breakfast.
“Don't we eat downstairs?” Ariana asked. They'd had breakfast and lunch in the mess hall below deck earlier. Rusty shook his head.
“You're eating with the officers tonight,” Rusty corrected. “The Captain and Grotes want to speak with you.”
“What do they want with a bunch of kids?” Slim asked.
“Don't know,” Rusty replied with a shrug. “I was just told to bring them to the Captain's quarters for dinner.” He gestured for Kyle and Ariana to follow him to the two-story cabin, and they navigated through the corridors and stairwells until they arrived before the door to the Captain's quarters. The door itself was impressively ornate, with intricate designs carved into its red-hued wood. Rusty knocked on the door three times, then waited. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing Grotes. The First Mate opened the door wide, gesturing for Kyle and Ariana to come in.
Kyle stepped past Grotes, finding himself in a large room. The floors were made of glossy dark cherry, and fine paintings hung on the walls. A gilded fireplace burned merrily on the far wall, with a miniature model of the Defiance resting on the mantle. A long, ornate wooden table sat in the center of the room. The Captain sat at the head of this table, dressed in his fine red uniform. A steaming silver platter lay before him on the table, and three more were at the empty chairs near him. Grotes sat down on a chair near the Captain, and gestured for Kyle and Ariana to sit opposite him.
“Sit,” the Captain ordered. Kyle and Ariana did so, and Kyle felt Ariana's hand grasp his under the table. He gave it a squeeze. The Captain removed the lid from his platter, revealing a delicious-appearing steak. Kyle and Ariana did the same with their platters, and Kyle's mouth began watering as the aroma of sizzling meat reached his nostrils. Grotes and the Captain began eating, and Kyle joined them, devouring his meal with unfettered glee.
“You're not eating,” Grotes observed between bites, staring at Ariana. Ariana shrugged.
“I don't eat much,” she admitted. The Captain frowned.
“No wonder you're anemic,” he declared. “I insist that you eat; a body cannot withstand the violence of a day's work without food to replenish it.”
“I hear you put the men to shame today,” Grotes chimed in, nodding at Ariana. “Impressive.”
“Thank you sir,” Ariana mumbled. She cut off a tiny piece of meat, putting it in her mouth and chewing slowly. This seemed to satisfy the Captain, who returned to finishing his own meal. When he was done, he covered his platter with its silver lid. It was instantly whisked away by a servant that Kyle hadn't even realized was there.
“So,” the Captain stated suddenly, gazing at Ariana. “You say you were held for questioning, but escaped during the attack on Stridon?” Ariana nodded. “Is it true that the city was attacked by a giant flying machine?” he inquired.
“Yes Captain,” Ariana answered.
“And that this machine,” he continued, “...destroyed several city blocks in less than a minute?”
“Yes.”
“Intriguing,” he murmured, rubbing his chin. “And what is the nature of this 'Xanos' I've been hearing about?”
“Nobody knows for sure,” Ariana lied. Kyle noticed that she was still chewing the same piece of meat she'd started with. “They say he's like a god.”
“Yes, well,” the Captain stated. “In my experience, which is considerable, there are no gods. Only men deluding others...and sometimes themselves.” When Ariana didn't resp
ond, the Captain frowned. “Your countrymen are under the impression that Xanos will succeed in destroying the Empire.”
Ariana glanced at Kyle, who kept his eyes on his plate.
“You can imagine this scenario to be of extreme interest to my government,” the Captain stated.
“Because then you wouldn't be able to trade?” Ariana asked. The Captain gave her a tight smile.
“Consider the possibilities,” he replied. “One: the Empire survives its assault. Surely it will be profoundly weakened. This would make it an attractive target for my people.”
“You mean, to attack?” Kyle asked. The Captain turned to him.
“Correct.”
“But aren't you allies?” Ariana pressed.
“Neutral, actually,” the Captain replied. “But that is always subject to change, given the right opportunity.” He cleared his throat. “Possibility two: the Empire falls, and Xanos eyes Verhan as his next potential conquest. This could be disastrous for us.” He took a sip of whatever liquid was in his cup. “Possibility three: we ally with Xanos to ensure the destruction of the Empire while protecting ourselves.”
“He'd turn on you,” Ariana warned. The Captain nodded.
“I suspect so,” he agreed. “Thus far, the only scenario in our favor is for the Empire to destroy Xanos...whether we invade afterward or not.” He took another sip of his drink. “So logically, it would be best for us to ally with the Empire against Xanos.”
“Really?” Ariana asked. “You're going to do that?” Grotes chuckled.
“Fat chance,” he replied.
“Why not?” Kyle asked, forgetting that he was supposed to play dumb. The Captain turned to him.
“My government has an unfortunate history with the Empire,” he answered. “Or rather, the Empire preceding yours. My people would never agree to an alliance.”
“Did the Ancients really enslave your people?” Ariana asked. The Captain nodded.
“Our native ancestors, yes,” he confirmed. “They’ve been bred out of existence for the most part.”
“I can't believe it,” Kyle muttered. The Captain raised an eyebrow at him.
“Believe it, boy,” he replied. “Your precious ancestors were morally bankrupt men hiding behind a veil of righteousness.” He leaned forward. “And as you have seen, your current government is little better.”
Kyle was about to reply when he felt Ariana squeeze his wrist – hard. He glanced at her, and she shook her head imperceptibly.
“Even the fact that I trade with your Empire is looked down upon by my people,” the Captain continued. Grotes smirked.
“That's one way to put it,” he stated. “Last time we docked in Verhan, a mob tried to set fire to the ship.”
“Indeed,” the Captain agreed. “Which is why I pay the Verhanian guards so handsomely for their protection.” He sighed. “But I digress. If the Empire falls – and I believe it will – my people may be next.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Ariana inquired. The Captain lifted his cup, bringing it to his lips for a long moment, then lowering it to the tabletop.
“Because, my dear,” he replied. “You will be questioned extensively by the authorities in Verhan – especially if you request amnesty there.” He drummed his fingers on his cup. “The answers you provide may prove very lucrative for me.”
“I don't get it,” Kyle stated.
“Hardly surprising,” Grotes commented. Kyle blushed despite himself, and lowered his gaze to his lap.
“If the people of Verhan become convinced that Xanos is a threat to them, they'll panic. The rich will be desperate for runic technology to protect themselves.”
“But isn't magic illegal?” Kyle asked.
“Indeed,” the Captain replied. “But the rich can afford to worry less about laws, and runic items can be smuggled. One simply has to remove magic from the item so that it passes Testing at customs, and disguise it.”
“You mean by rotating the cargo like we did today?” Ariana asked.
“That works for items with residual magic,” the Captain answered. “For a well-charged runic item that would take weeks to work.” He smiled. “I have a much quicker solution.”
“Like what?” Ariana pressed.
“That is none of your concern,” he replied. “Suffice it to say that any man with the capability to smuggle runic technology from the Empire will become extraordinarily wealthy...as long as we convince the populace that the end is near.” He smirked. “Fear makes for very effective marketing.”
“And that's where you come in,” Ariana deduced. The Captain nodded.
“This is my proposal,” he declared. “In exchange for safe passage to Verhan and a generous payment to certain officials to guarantee your citizenship papers, you will provide information regarding the Empire's inevitable demise, and hint at Xanos's plan to conquer Verhan next.”
“Okay,” Ariana said. “But why would they believe us? We're just kids.”
“You were a prisoner of the Death Weavers,” he replied. “You can say you overheard the plans to attack Verhan. And if you're earnest enough, your youth may work in your favor.” He turned to Grotes. “That is where my First Mate comes in.”
“We'll be rehearsing your interrogations tomorrow,” Grotes stated. “And every day after, until we get to port.”
“When is that?” Kyle piped in. Ariana nodded; they still needed to figure out when they should escape the ship.
“Five days,” Grotes answered.
“Do we have a deal?” the Captain asked. Ariana glanced at Kyle, who nodded. It hardly mattered what deal they made, seeing as how they had no intention of staying with the ship long enough to get questioned. Ariana turned to the Captain.
“We'll do it.”
“A wise decision,” the Captain replied. He stood up from his chair then, motioning for Kyle and Ariana to do the same. “Leave us now,” he ordered. “You may join the festivities on deck.”
“Festivities?” Kyle asked.
“A birthday celebration for one of the sailors.”
With that, Grotes ushered them out of the Captain's quarters and into the hallway. Rusty was waiting for them, and led them back down to the first floor of the cabin. When they reached the deck, the sun had finished setting. Thousands of stars winked down on them from above, the cool ocean breeze blowing through their hair. Kyle heard music playing and sailors singing in the distance; a few dozen men were clustered near the front of the ship, lit from below by a half-dozen lanterns placed on the deck. Some were dancing merrily, while others were playing their instruments, and still others were clapping in time to the music.
“Come on!” Rusty urged, leading them across the deck toward the men. They reached the rest of the crew, and Kyle saw Slim jump up from where he was sitting, a mostly-empty flask in his hand.
“Guts!” Slim cried, stumbling forward and throwing a scrawny arm over Kyle's shoulders. His breath stank of alcohol. “Have a drink kid,” he slurred, pressing the mouth of the flask to Kyle's lips. Kyle pushed the flask away gently, shaking his head.
“I can't,” he protested. Slim made a face.
“You drink water, don'cha?” he countered. “Same thing,” he added, shoving the flask at Kyle. Kyle pushed it away again.
“It makes me puke,” Kyle explained. Slim shrugged.
“Makes everyone puke,” he declared, taking another swig. “That's,” he added while pointing one finger at Kyle's nose, “...how you know you've had enough.”
“It's all right Slim,” Rusty interjected, gently pulling Slim away. Slim turned his bloodshot eyes to Ariana.
“Hey bee-yootiful,” he leered, putting a hand on Ariana's shoulder. Ariana put her hand on top of his, and squeezed. Slim dropped like a stone, howling in pain. He clutched his hand to his belly, curling up into the fetal position on the deck.
“I'm taken,” Ariana declared, grabbing Kyle's hand and stepping over Slim. A few of the sailors had clearly been watching, and they
all burst out laughing. Rusty ignored Slim, bringing Kyle and Ariana near the sailors playing their instruments.
“You know any sailing songs?” Rusty shouted over the music. They both shook their heads. “Listen!” The crowd of sailors waited a few beats, then burst out into song.
“O, the sea's a kinder maiden,
Than any girl back home...
Wherever prow should meet her,
She'll leave a trail of foam.
If yer lost in her waters,
Or sinkin' to your doom...
To find them other seamen,
Keep an eye out for her spume!”
There was a loud cheer, and the sailors raised their flasks in the air, chanting the next verse with abandon:
“If ever you be pining...
For what you had on land...
Just drown your mates in spirits,
They're sure to lend a hand.
An' lift your spirits up 'til,
Yer so merry you'll explode...
So cast away yer worries,
They'll gladly share the load!”
There was another cheer, followed by laughter. Kyle grinned at Ariana, and she smiled back. The sailors were having so much fun it was impossible not to smile. Even Slim was back on his feet, joining the singing with abandon. The song went on for an impressive number of verses, until at last it ended, and everyone took a hearty swig from their flasks. Kyle gazed at the sailors, realizing that all of them – to a man – were horribly drunk. He felt Ariana tug at his hand, and he turned to her. She smiled at him, gesturing for him to follow her. He allowed himself to be led away from the crowd, back toward the cabin at the other end of the Defiance. The music and cheering faded away as they walked, until it was barely audible over the crashing waves all around them.