by CM Raymond
The boy’s eyes cut to the dragon; he stared without blinking. “Seriously, what is that?”
Sal pawed at the ground, waiting for his master to respond. As far as Hannah could tell, the dragon understood the human tongue. If nothing else, he always responded appropriately.
Reaching down to scratch his chin, she said, “Not a that. Sal’s a he. Well, usually he acts like one. His name is Sal, and he’s my dragon.”
Sal looked up, tilted his head, and whipped his forked tongue out of his mouth and back in.
Hannah giggled. “And… I guess I better say that I’m his human, before I piss him off.” Hannah lowered her voice. “For seeming so badass, I think he has a bit of a self-esteem issue.”
The boy finally cracked a smile. “So, he’s safe then?”
“No way. Not safe in the least. But he’s mine, and… I’m his. So, as long as you drop that rock and behave yourself, he’ll be safe enough for you.” She watched the rock leave the kid’s hand and rattle to the ground. “Now, back to my question. You got a name?”
“Hasan,” he said with some hesitation. The boy glanced over his shoulder at the closest alleyway, which was littered by the rubble from the crumbling buildings that rose around it. He looked back at the dragon and then back to Hannah. “It means handsome, at least that’s what my ma tells me.”
Hannah’s face warmed, thinking of her own mother. She would have told Hannah and Will anything to make them feel prouder than they had the day before, so she could understand the boy’s blush. “Well, your mother is a keen woman. I’m sure you’ll be a lady killer someday soon.” She winked as he grew a darker shade of red. Hannah motioned around her. “What is this place, Hasan?”
“This place? What do you mean?”
“You know, where the hell are we?”
His brow furrowed, and his nose scrunched as he tried to make sense of the question. “It’s where you are. How do you not know where it is?”
Hannah realized the boy’s world, like so many in Irth, was minute. She assumed he lacked the imagination able to conceive of places days away—let alone weeks. Before meeting Ezekiel, she wasn’t so different than him.
She pointed into the sky at the airship hovering overhead. From the distance, it looked like little more than a dot floating in place. “That’s my airship.”
“Dragons and airships… Kasar, what’s next?”
Hannah assumed that the foreign word was akin to the rearick’s ‘scheisse’, and she was correct. “There are many and stranger things out there, man. But, for now, that ship has brought me from a city a long way from here called Arcadia. This place, your place, is a land that I know nothing about.”
The boy snorted. “Not my place.” He nodded toward the bodies of the men Hannah had ended. “Guess it’s theirs more than anyone’s. I just come to scavenge. We, my ma and me, live beyond the ruins. But this place is Constantine’s.” He said it like she should know who Constantine was.
She didn’t. “Who’s Constantine?”
The boy giggled again, enjoying the ignorance shared between them. “Hell if I know, lady. I’m not even sure if there is a Constantine. It’s just what everybody calls this place. If there is a guy, I never met him.” Hasan pushed his sleeve across his forehead, wiping away a mix of sweat and dirt. He looked up and gauged the position of the sun. “I need to get going. My ma is going to freak if I don’t get back soon. She’s nervous, lost a lot.”
Hannah nodded and extended her hand. The boy took it and feigned a man’s grip. “My name’s Hannah. It is a pleasure to meet you, Hasan. Doubt our paths will cross again, but if they do…”
“I’ll be sure to save your ass next time,” he said with a smile. “And—thanks, Hannah.” He looked down at the dragon by her side. “You, too, Sal.”
The kid turned and ran for the alley closest to them, leaping over rocks and scurrying out of sight.
Hannah patted Sal on the side as she surveyed the bodies in the street. “Nice work, you lazy bag of scales.”
After collecting their weapons, she swung a leg over Sal’s spiked back and gave him a kick. He responded, wings flapping with intention as he pulled them toward the floating airship.
CHAPTER TWO
Sal slid to a stop on the deck of the ship with Hannah holding on for dear life to his neck. The momentum nearly sent her swimming in the air overboard.
“Nice landing,” Parker said with a grin.
“Don’t listen to his shit, Sal.” She patted him on the side before whispering, “But yes, let’s work on that, you clumsy lizard.”
In response, Sal twisted his shoulders, sending Hannah rolling off onto the deck. She looked back at him and grinned. She usually had the last laugh, this time it belonged to the dragon.
“Where the hell you been, anyway?” Parker asked, crossing the deck to join his friend. His words were curt, but he pulled her into a warm hug that showed his concern. “I was worried.”
Hannah wanted him to hold her like that forever, but she saw Hadley looking on, and Karl across the ship from where they stood. She pushed him away. “Oh, you know. Just down there saving the helpless from asshats of all kinds. It’s kinda my thing.”
Joining them, Hadley gave her a nod. “Welcome home, Hannah. The ship felt far too big without you, which is saying a lot since we’re still all stacked on top of each other here.” He turned to the Sal. “And you… I know you’ve been flapping those wings pretty hard, and by the looks of the blood in your claws, you’ve engaged in some extracurricular activities. You didn’t happen to bring us back a deer or some lamb, did you?”
Hannah shrugged. “You do not want to eat what Sal killed. Trust me. Unless you’ve learned a thing or two about fine dining from the remnant.”
Hadley grimaced. “I’d like to think I’m an openminded kind of guy, but I draw the line at roasted asshat. Although, I can’t speak for our master chef. We’re going to need some food up here quick before the rearick starts choosing which one of us he’s going to roast over an open flame.”
Karl, who had been leaning over the railing since they’d returned, glanced over his shoulder. His face was greener than the pines surrounding the tower. “Don’t talk about food, lad. If that damned fool below won’t learn to fly this thing straight, I’m gonna keep losin’ my lunch over the side, and I’ll be as skinny as the blasted druid before ya know it.”
They all laughed at Karl’s expense. None of them took to the air as well as they’d hoped, except for Hadley. He loved being in the clouds. The rest of them spent much of the days trying to get their airlegs under them. But Karl, whose long life was spent on solid ground, was having the hardest time of them all.
Giving Hadley a nod, Hannah turned to Sal. “You heard him, bud. We’re going to need you to go find us some game, OK?” He nodded at his master. “And no more squirrels; it’s far too disturbing for Laurel and her little friend.”
Before she could say anything else, Sal took three strides and dove over the rail. She smiled as she watched him go. Sal had been invaluable to them, and hunting was the least of what he brought to the team.
The airship suddenly lurched, forcing everyone to grab ahold of something. Karl’s face disappeared over the edge of the ship again, along with what little he had managed to eat that day.
“Don’t worry, Karl,” Hannah said with a grin. “I’m sure your stomach will catch up with us eventually.”
“Screw you, lassie. One more jolt like that, and I’m gonna throw that damned kid overboard.”
“Careful,” she said. “Gregory’s all we’ve got to fly this thing. Hell if any of the rest of us know how to move this freighter. All we’re good at is cursing and fighting.”
“What else do ya need?” Karl asked as he composed himself. “And I say just crash this damned heap. We’ll let ‘er burn on the ground and walk our asses all the way to the wizard’s friends. Scheisse, a few miles on the old boots would be a shit ton less torturous than this.”
Han
nah stepped over to her friend and rubbed his shoulder. They gave each other plenty of playful words, but she cared for him more than she’d ever tell him. And even if she’d make fun of him until their dying days, she’d never think poorly of the brave rearick.
“It’ll take years to walk there, at least as far as any of us know. We don’t have that kind of time.”
Karl pushed his sleeve across his beard, clearing away a few of the remains of breakfast he had recycled. “Aye, the Great Darkness or whatever. Like all the magical freaks I’ve met, Ezekiel would shave his beard before givin’ a straight answer. Any chance he’s given you any more clues ta what the hell we’re after?”
Hannah cast her eyes to the rough boards of the deck. She wished she had an answer for Karl, for all of them. But she didn’t. Though not all magicians were guilty of the rearick’s charges, many were obtuse, and Ezekiel was the greatest among them. But since the time she had started her training, nearly a year prior, she had learned that getting Ezekiel to talk before he was ready was like trying to make a kettle boil before its time.
“Wish I knew more,” she said, bring her eyes back up to Karl’s. “But we just need to trust him.”
Karl laughed and snorted, “If I didn’t trust him, I wouldn’t be on this damned ship. Nothing like a magic user to get ya in trouble. That’s the truth. I spend my time either cursin’ him or my stomach.”
“Speaking of stomachs,” Parker interjected, “mine is screaming at me. All I’ve had to eat is Karl’s cooking, and the rearick aren’t necessarily known for their delicacies.”
“Yah miss yer mum, lowlander,” Karl said with a grin.
“Not as much as I miss yours.”
Karl laughed low. “Dear girl’s been dead fer years. And, scheisse, she would have torn ya to shreds, pretty boy.”
“If she’s anything like you… Anyway, I was thinking,” Parker said, looking back over to Hannah, “maybe a group of us could head to the surface. See what we can find. I learned a thing or two about living off the land while we were back at the tower. I’ll go, take Laurel with me. Bet she could hunt up some spices for us, make our little friend’s cooking a bit more palatable.”
Hannah eyed the ground beneath them and thought of Hassan and the marauders. “I’ll think on it, but since we need to pass some time, Karl, what do you say to some training sessions. It’ll get your mind off your stomach.”
“Aye, not a bad idea, though watchin’ ya damned fools wave swords around like toddlers always makes me sick.”
****
The snap of Laurel’s rope rang out across the open-aired deck, its metal tip dangerously close to Parker’s skull. Sliding to his left, he batted the druid’s weapon away with the end of his magitech spear.
“Damn, girl. We’re just practicing,” he grunted, righting himself.
With the twist of her arm, she drew back the blade, wrapping its tail effortlessly into long dangling loops by her side. “I know. Just imagine if I actually took you seriously.” She winked and began walking to her left. “Where I’m from, warriors train without holding back. You get stabbed? Too bad. It means you’re too slow. Suck it up, heal it up, do it over.”
“In other words, you’re all a bunch of psychos,” he replied.
She laughed. “No. In other words, you’ll never beat me.”
As they circled, the two kept their eyes on one another, watching for an opportunity to strike. Parker stomped hard with his right foot, feigning attack, in an attempt to get her stuck on her back foot, but the girl didn’t bite. When she joined the group, Laurel was already a better fighter than any of them, save for maybe Karl. On the battlefield, he was grateful for her, but currently, he wished someone else were toe-to-toe with her.
“Come on, ya bastard. If you can’t take a tiny lass, I don’t want ya in the shit with me,” Karl shouted from the railing, a mug of ale in his meaty hand. Hannah was right, the training distracted him from his airsickness.
Without a look, Laurel extended her arm in the rearick’s direction. With perfect aim and distance, the blade struck the mug just beneath his little finger. The sound of metal on metal chimed in their ears and Parker watched as the mug went sailing through the air.
“I’m not a damned lass, rearick,” she said with a slight bow. “Next one will take off that little sausage pinkie of yours. Got it?”
Karl, inspired by Laurel’s spunk and the mystic’s brew, laughed deeply. “Scheisse! Ya got it, ma’am. And I’ll take you into the heat of battle any day—maybe even into Ophelia’s for a drink on a Friday night.”
She glanced over at him and batted her eyes playfully. Parker took the chance to blast a beam of magitech power over her shoulder, forcing Laurel to dodge in haste. He followed his attack and landed a knee to her torso, pulling back at the last moment so as not to hurt her.
“Uh oh,” Parker said playfully. “Looks like someone’s a little slow.”
Stumbling backwards, Laurel rolled onto her feet before he could get a jump on her. “You shouldn’t pull your punches,” she said as her rope-blade flashed through the air, wrapping Parker’s legs at the ankle. With a sharp tug, she pulled his feet out from underneath him, sending Parker to the deck with a crash. Smiling, she said, “No lessons learned if my opponent hits like a bitch.”
“Nice landing,” Hadley said as he approached clapping. “You lowlanders know how to make an impact!”
Parker sat up with his hands raised and legs underneath him. “I give,” he said to Laurel before turning back to the mystic. “Maybe it’s time you step into the ring with her.”
“I’m more of a lover than a fighter, and Sir Gregory seems to have staked his claim on this one.” Hadley nodded to the slight druid.
She raised a middle finger and narrowed her eyes. “No one claims me, airhead. And, yes, you best keep out of the ring, I’d hate to mess your hair.”
The men all laughed as she stepped back and leaned against the rail. Although she was the newest member of Hannah’s group, Laurel took no time at all settling into her role and endearing herself to the rest of the members.
She was playful and kind, but had a tongue sharper than her blade. While she was away from the only home she’d ever known, Laurel felt at ease with the group. Although it was clear she missed having her hands in the dirt. Her words grew sharper with each day they remained airborne.
Just as Parker’s heart was slowing from the fight, Sal flew in from the west, an animal twitching in his jaws. The dragon landed hard and dropped a giant deer with an enormous rack to the deck, and sat back, panting like a dog in heat.
Laurel rushed over and knelt by the animal, whose eyes darted about. “Thank you for your sacrifice,” she whispered. “It won’t be forgotten.” Placing her hands on the buck’s back, her eyes turned green, and the animal stopped moving.
Parker saw her eyes grow glassy and realized just how close the druids are to the animal world. As if he knew the situation, Sal lumbered over and pushed on her with his muzzle. Laurel smiled in response.
“These things are needed,” she said with a said smile. “You did your job, mighty dragon. Next time, end its life. Suffering is bad for all living things.”
Sal nodded, sat, and drooped his head toward the deck. Parker could only assume the dragon understood the exchange precisely. Then, as if to break the tension, Laurel’s cloak started to move. She laughed as Devin, her squirrel, poked its head out of the neckline of her cloak. Black, beady eyes darting about, she snuck back into the folds of Laurel’s clothes. Moments later, she popped out of the sleeve and ran over to Sal, only to jump on the dragon’s back and scurry up to his head.
They all laughed as they watched the dragon try to knock the animal off.
“That odd couple ought to get their own damn room,” Karl grumbled from the railing.
Laurel scrunched her nose. “Well, that’s a terrifying thought. Could you imagine what their kids would be like? Sal’s strength with Devin’s violence.”
Parker laughed along with the rest, but then his eyes turned to Hannah.
I wonder what our kids would be like? Parker thought. A snicker from Hadley caught his attention, and he turned to see the mystic shaking his head.
Shut up, he thought as loudly as he could. The mystic started to laugh.
****
Dark circles sat heavy under Gregory’s eyes as he held the stick steady. Being the only one who really knew how the Unlawful worked, or had been able to get a handle on the controls, certainly had its disadvantages.
Over the week and change they had been flying, he could count on his fingers and toes the number of hours he had slept, and although there were others who could learn to fly it, he had a particular leaning toward keeping his father’s masterpiece in his own hands.
“What the hell does this do, dad?” Gregory mumbled as his fingertip played over a dial he had not yet dared to turn. Everything else was accounted for, and they had even taken a few shots of the amphorald powered cannon at some deserted plains—just to test it. But the knob he caressed was unaccounted for, and frankly, Gregory feared turning it with his life.
“Still no idea, huh?”
Hearing Hannah’s voice, he jumped in his chair, finger still shaking mid-air.
He breathed heavily. “Shit. I wish you wouldn’t surprise me like that.”
Hannah couldn’t hold in a giggle. “Sorry. You know you look worse than my father did after an all-month bender, right?”
Gregory pushed his left hand awkwardly through his dark, kinky hair and tucked his trembling right between his legs. “Not a surprise, though I bet your pa had a few more shits and giggles than I have.”
“Nah. He was an angry drunk… I’ve got some scars to prove it.” She nodded back to the mystery device on the dash. “Get it over with. Turn the damned thing.”
His mouth dropped open slightly. “Can’t. No idea what it does.”
“So? You didn’t know what the other things were either when you started pulling, pushing, and turning. What makes this so different?”