Monarch (War of the Princes Book 3)

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Monarch (War of the Princes Book 3) Page 6

by A. R. Ivanovich


  Carmine smiled and trotted off to the forward cabins that led to the helm of the ship.

  “Watch over them, Thayer,” Brendon said.

  Rune bowed his head. “I will, sir.”

  Dylan broke from our loose circle to intercept Brendon. “No one has ever done this,” he said in low tones.

  Lord Brendon clapped Dylan roughly on the shoulder. “But you will.” Such words of encouragement coming from the Lord of Breakwater were worth more than gold.

  Brendon gestured Block and Ruby to disembark before him.

  At first, Ruby followed Block, but before she stepped off the ship, she turned. She pushed up her glasses, higher on the bridge of her nose, and then ran to me. My best friend threw her arms around me and squeezed. “You be careful,” she sniffled. “Don't do anything you'd normally do.”

  A laugh hiccupped out of me. She had tears in her eyes, and they were infectious. I fought off the onslaught of emotion, and pried her off of me. “Don't count on it.”

  Ruby smiled at me, and apologized politely to Lord Brendon for making him wait. In the blink of an eye, she and Block were off of the Fish and standing on the ebony wooden planks of the Black Harbor.

  As he stood with one foot upon the gangway, rough and regal even cloaked in drab shades, the Common-Lord offered us one last look. “Good luck, all of you. Be swift. You carry the weight of our future.”

  Then he was off. They all were. Me and Rune, Kyle and Dylan were left in silence, setting off on a journey that had begun far too quickly.

  The robust engines of the Flying Fish whirled to action beneath us, sending a rumbling vibration through the hull of the ship.

  With Prince Raserion's promise hanging over my head, I knew that I was closer than ever to an untimely end. Then again, we were all targets of his wrath. I remembered seeing the thirteen Monarchs on his wraith-like map. Armed with Lodestones, they'd tear apart anyone with the smallest Ability in seconds. The populations of entire cities would be obliterated. Hundreds of thousands of lives would be lost, leaving only those who could not defend themselves against Raserion's waves of emotionless Dragoons. If one of those things went off in Haven, would it kill everyone? How many would survive? A handful?

  I ran to the ship railing as the gate mechanism closed us off from the Black Harbor dock.

  “Hey, Ru,” I called out to her, knowing that these might be the last words I shared with her. “Do me a favor?”

  “What's that?”

  “Tell my dad what happened here. Make sure he knows that I love him.” I grinned and felt the longing of nostalgia tighten around me. “And have a hot apple turnover for me?”

  She looked back at me, her red hair shining, and pushed up her glasses over her almond eyes. “Anything for you, Katie-bug.”

  Chapter 10: The Fish that Flew

  “Good afternoon, sunshine,” Kyle said to me, standing at the pointed bow atop the upper deck of the Flying Fish.

  I blinked my eyes and stretched. Curled up against a railing, I must have fallen asleep. The sun had kept me warm enough, and offered safety from encroaching shadows. Yawning and crawling stiffly up to my feet, I realized just how exhausted I must have been from missing another night of sleep. “Where'd everyone go?”

  Kyle shrugged, and inhaled with exhilaration at the view. “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?” he asked me, not for the first time. He was talking about the ship again. He'd only start talking about Carmine that way after some of the excitement of being on a flying ship burned off. Well-designed machinery always held a distinct advantage over feminine attention for my wiry friend. To him, the Flying Fish was a two-hundred-foot dream come true.

  Eye-shaped, both the nose and tail were sharp and aerodynamic. An open upper deck topped the helm, mess hall and forward cabins. The main deck at ground level supplied a single mast with mechanically stowed horizontal sails and a floor hatch that led to the engine room below. At the rear, the Fish hosted a second raised deck that crowned the broad cargo hold and horse stalls. Vents, pipes and smokestacks curled off of the aft deck, billowing steam from the hot engine room. The most spectacular element of the brass and copper ship were the turbines fitted to its flat bottom. They spun with such force and pressure, the entire ship was able to hover six feet above sea level.

  Water gave way beneath the blast of its engines, but hard ground was a different story. I'd seen it fly at over ten feet once, flipping carriages and bursting shop front windows as it stormed over Cape Hill's city streets. The Flying Fish, and Carmine had saved my life that day.

  I loved this ship. It may as well have been a living being in my eyes.

  Flight had been nothing but a very illegal theory back in Haven, but here, it was more than possible, it was almost common. The Flying Fish was the smallest hover ship I'd seen. Prince Raserion's navy was full of iron behemoths that made ours look like a skipping stone.

  I leaned on the rail and looked down at the view of the main deck. A high-pitched hum came from the mast as two sets of twin yardarms extended outward, stretching a pair of sails taut between them. The extension made the Fish look like it had wings at its sides. It really was an amazing sight.

  “I’ve seen something more beautiful,” I answered him. “It was a chocolate and raspberry éclair, and it broke my heart. None will ever compare. I'll never love again.”

  He groaned and gave me a sidelong glance. “I really wish I didn't believe you.”

  We glided easily out of Breakwater Bay, past the encircling arms of the coast and into the open ocean. All I could see out there was water and sky. Long, lacy streaks of high cirrus clouds striped the blue, and cumulous crept along the far horizon. Black cormorant birds swooped overhead, diving into the water in search of prey.

  The sun felt good on my cheeks, but the air was cutting cold. I pulled my fingerless gloves higher up my wrists, tucked my hands into my pockets, and nestled into my mangled orange scarf. It was a little shorter than it should have been, after Rune had cut it to tie off my bleeding leg. I refused to discard it. I'd washed it over and over, but the rusty bloodstains that speckled the frayed edges just wouldn't come out. It didn't matter to me. My scarf and I were in this mess together.

  So were me and Rune, it seemed. When I'd come up to the upper deck, I thought the ex-Dragoon was right behind me, but he'd vanished. I had sat down to wait for him and fell asleep in the warmth of the sun. There was no sign of Dylan either. I hoped they weren't killing each other.

  “Desserts and flying ships aside,” Kyle said, not seeming all that affected by the chill. “Do you think Ru is going to be okay?”

  “She seems to have things under control,” I admitted. “In a way, I'm glad she's going back. Safer.”

  His chuckle was short and dry. “Is it?”

  I didn't want to answer that.

  “Do you think we'll be okay?”

  “That's the question of the year, isn't it?” I didn't have the will to fake a laugh. “Why'd you stick around, Kyle? After everything that's happened, I thought you'd go back home for sure.”

  He tensed up and kicked gently at the base of the rail with the toe of his boot.

  The lack of an answer got my attention. “What aren't you telling me?”

  Kyle winced and gripped the rail with both hands. The wind pushed his brown curls away from his face and made the collar of his coat flap against his neck. “You know how I've been having nightmares?”

  “Yeah,” I drew the word out.

  I'd suffered my own nightmare recently enough. It had left me wanting to spend as much time out in the light as I could.

  “They've been getting worse. I have them every night now. I wake up screaming. For a long time, I didn't even know why. I couldn't remember a thing, except that I was afraid. Really terrified. Aside from the dreams, I've never felt that way in my life. The fear, it's always so real.” He shook his head like he was frustrated or embarrassed. “Back when we were waiting for the Cape Hill channel to clear up, when yo
u and Dylan left with Hest, Sterling told me that he could use his Ability to get me to remember my nightmares.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “Yeah, and Kat, it worked. Maybe too well. It turned out that they were all the same story. I was here, in the Outside. My vision was cloudy. A city was burning. Then there was an explosion. It threw me against a rock wall. There was broken metal on me. I was on fire, burning. I couldn't roll to put it out, my arms and legs wouldn't work.”

  I grimaced.

  “I could feel it, all of it.”

  I swallowed, feeling my heart flutter with anxiety at the mere thought of burning. “That's terrible, but it's just a nightmare. I'm sure it'll get better.”

  “No, it won't. It hasn't. You need to understand, I saw Dragoons in my dream.”

  I was trying to be positive, supportive. What did he want me to say? “We've been through a lot.”

  “It's not that! Kat, I've had these dreams my whole life,” he said, gesturing emphatically. “I didn't start having the dreams here, I've always had them, Dragoons and all! They're only getting worse, more frequent.”

  Kyle was a cold-hard-facts kind of guy. It wasn't like him to put any weight on something as flimsy as a nightmare. Whatever was going on with him, I didn't like it. “What do you think it means? Could Sterling figure it out?”

  “You know how he can– I mean could, sense other Abilities? He said there was something different about mine. He didn't understand it. I think this nightmare is a premonition. I think that seeing the future, my future, is one of my other Abilities and he didn't know what to make of it 'cause he's never come into contact with it before.”

  “A premonition?” I didn't like this. One. Bit.

  He nodded, serious as the grave. “I don't even want to say it out loud, but I need to tell someone.” He inhaled through his nose, closed his eyes, and exhaled. His lids reopened slowly. “I think I'm going to die. Here. I think I'm seeing my death.”

  “Kyle,” I said threateningly. After setting himself up to take the fall for the Cape Hill rebellion, Rune thought he'd die, too. I refused to accept that line of thinking, especially now, after losing Sterling. “This isn't the time or the place to joke.”

  “I'm not joking!”

  “Look, I understand. We're all under a lot of pressure. With everything that's happened, I've thought I wouldn't make it. More than a few times.”

  To say the least.

  “Gravity, I thought Stakes had killed me,” breathlessly, I touched the ring of scars on my chest. “But that kind of negativity will eat away at you. It's not healthy.”

  “You don't get it! I feel it! It's not just a dream. I know it’s not. This is me, Kat, I'm no pessimist. I'm not superstitious. The dreams are more frequent every day because I'm getting closer. I don't know when or where, but it's going to happen. How am I supposed to cope with that?” He sighed, looking down at the water that sprayed out beneath our whirling turbines. “That's why I was afraid to go with you to the Installment Fortress in Cape Hill. It's why me and Sterling were fighting. He didn't believe the dreams meant anything either. He thought I'd lost my nerve, and he was right. When I got close to that place, I got a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I'd seen it before. I thought it was going to happen then, that I'd be killed for sure. I was lucky that time.”

  And Sterling wasn't.

  “If you think your dreams are showing you the future, why didn't you go back to Haven? Avoid the whole thing?”

  Kyle rubbed his eyes. “Because of Sterling. He was scared too, but helping you was more important to him than hanging back to hide on the ship. If fate exists and this is it, well, there's nothing I can do about it anyway. You're my best friend, Kat, and I'm not going to leave you alone out here.”

  I wasn't alone. I had Rune, and Carmine... even Dylan. But Kyle and I were from Haven and we saw things differently. That kind of kinship is impossible to imagine until you've experienced it. I didn't take his confession for granted.

  I pulled my shoulders up to shelter my bare ears from the sea breeze. Looking over at Kyle, I wondered if he'd made the right choice. “Half of me wishes you'd gone with Ru. Especially after...”

  Sterling.

  “It isn't only your duty to defend Haven,” he pointed out.

  “The other half of me is glad you're here,” I continued. “You saved Professor Block's life, saved my leg. You've made a difference to all of us. Dreams are dreams. They don't mean anything.”

  Gravity, I have my share of interesting ones.

  “Knew it.” He leaned his back against the rail and tossed his hair out of his face. “I knew that if I told you, you'd say the same things I would, if I was in your place.”

  A sigh gusted from my lungs. Ruby would have believed him. Maybe it was time I learned from her example. I didn't want to accept the possibility that he was actually right. But what kind of friend would I be if I didn't trust him? “In the nightmare, did you actually see yourself die?”

  He thought about it. “No. I didn't.”

  “Well, there's that.”

  “No one could survive that much fire, and I have to be focused to heal, but, it's something to hope for.” I could tell that he was trying to sound like he felt better. “Thanks, Kat.”

  I looked down at the water and saw a huge blue fish with a tall dorsal crest and a pointed nose. It broke from the surface, leaping skyward as though it would glide forever. But gravity won, plunging it back into the depths. It was gone before I could say a word. Was that a poignant metaphor for life? One moment, you're free of the current, soaring through the air, glistening in the light, and the next, you're gone. Poof. Just like that, it’s over. Your story has ended, and you didn't even have time to react.

  No. Not me.

  No matter the odds, I would survive. I'd make sure my friends and family were safe, and happy. Maybe I couldn't wield a sword any better than Ruby, but I was a fighter. I still wasn't sure what I would do about the princes, but I knew that I'd make the right choice for Haven, at any cost.

  “I'll never let anything hurt you, Kyle,” I said, dropping my hands from my pockets. I didn't care about the discomfort of the cold any longer. “I swear.”

  Despite himself, Kyle managed to pull off his signature lopsided grin. “That's the most ridiculous promise I've ever heard.”

  As if on cue, a blood-curdling scream ripped from the aft of the ship, glass shattered, and a plume of blue fire shot from one of the cargo hold's many side windows.

  Chapter 11: All Smoke, No Mirrors

  A second blast of fire jetted from the cargo hold window, licking all the way up to the copper and brass railing of the rear second-floor deck.

  I tore down the curving stairs, lost my footing, skidded over three steps, and leapt, landing on the main deck at a dead run. Kyle was a split second behind me only because I'd partially fallen down the stairs. We reached the wide doors of the aft cargo hold together.

  A thick cloud drifted overhead, impeding the daylight and feeding the shadows that pressed against the only entrance to the hold. The wicked darkness crept outward from the doorway, seeping over the golden ship, outstretching to reach me. I froze in place. Any moment a shadow creature would claw up from oblivion and lash me down into that dark place between places. Or worse.

  Kyle stopped short, right beside me.

  It's the Prince. It's Raserion. I agreed to help him, didn't I? What does he want from me now?

  Kyle and I exchanged glances, each of us wide-eyed with dread.

  “The fire,” he said helplessly.

  Sunlight spilled over us in the cloud's wake, chasing the expanding shade away to a hasty retreat. There was nothing unnatural going on here. No monsters. No prince. This was just me, jumping at shadows.

  I growled, frustrated by my paranoia, and charged the doors.

  Shouldering one of them open, I turned back to Kyle. “It's okay, its only Rune.” I wondered if anyone had ever made such a statement before
.

  Facing the cargo hold, my lungs seized and I began to cough. A thick cloud of smoke beat against me, rolling out of the entryway. I pulled my scarf around my mouth and nose and took an easier breath. My entire body buzzed with alarm and I waved Kyle to stay back.

  It was dark inside, and dry. I smelled ash and wood and burning hair.

  Closing my eyes, I concentrated, funneling the electricity that lived within me up to my head and out of my skin. A circle of fine electric strands swirled at my forehead, giving me light without blinding me. When I reopened my eyes, a flickering luminescence brightened my surroundings. The smoke was thick, but instead of rising as it should, it lay heavily along the ground.

  I reached the horse stalls first. The beasts were grunting and kicking at the walls that enclosed them, no doubt spooked by the scent of smoke. Vents built into the walls gave them life-saving fresh air.

  Reflexively, I went for Florian first, swinging open the big dapple-gray gelding's gate. His ears were pinned flat atop his head when he launched free, storming out of the hold into the daylight. I set loose the two bays and single chestnut mare, hoping dearly that Kyle would be able to catch and hold the four of them before we had any tragic accidents.

  Setting horses loose aboard the deck of a flying ship was probably not a very good idea. The way I saw it, my alternatives were few to none. The horses had a better chance out there than in here, drowning in smoke.

  “Rune!” My voice was muffled in my scarf. I pulled it away. “Rune!” Smoke piped down my lungs and I began to cough again.

  The main cargo hold was a single room. Crates and cases filled with foodstuffs and travel provisions made a pair of aisles that faded from view in the hazy air. The spacious cargo hold swirled with smoke. Recently, this very room had been packed with rescued children. Their cheer had been overwhelming and the cargo hold had seemed like a celebratory playground for a short time.

  Now it was choked by a heavy darkness. With all the smoke, my light couldn't reach far. My eyes stung.

 

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