Longing's Levant

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  “And this is what the Mage plans for me,” Evann-Sin said with a shudder.

  “It has a few good sides to it, warrior,” the Reaper told him.

  “None that I can see.”

  “You will be able to read minds.”

  “Terrific,” the warrior mumbled.

  “You will have the strength of ten men.”

  Evann-Sin twirled his index finger in the air.

  “You will be able to fly.”

  Kaibyn blinked. “As I do?”

  Cainer shook his head. “No, in a flying ship.”

  “A flying ship,” Evann-Sin snorted. “That I have to see.”

  “All right,” the Reaper agreed. He got up and started walking, heading deeper into the lush foliage behind him. “Let’s go see her.”

  Kaibyn and Evann-Sin exchanged looks then hurried to catch up with their host. Batting aside huge leaves and pushing past low-hanging vines, they were soon almost on his heels.

  “This was the flying ship you came here in?” the warrior inquired, stumbling over a fallen tree trunk.

  “Aye,” Cainer replied.

  For ten minutes, the trio traveled through the lush foliage. Ahead of them, the sound of waves crashing along the shore brought with it the smell of salt water.

  “How she moved it, I don’t know. I landed in a field on the mainland,” Cainer explained. “I was almost out of fuel, putting her down on fumes alone.”

  “Fumes?”

  The Reaper shook his head. “It would be too hard to explain. Let’s just say that’s an age-old expression for she never ran on fuel as you might know it.”

  Kaibyn leaned toward Evann-Sin. “Remember the machines I brought forward from the past? Those ran on what they called gasoline.”

  Cainer turned. “Fossil fuel, aye.”

  Evann-Sin shook his head. “I don’t want to know what that is.”

  “You don’t need to,” the Reaper said. “You just need to know how to fly her.”

  “If she has no fuel, how could he?” Kaibyn inquired.

  They had come to a tall bluff overlooking the heaving waves of the ocean. Mighty waves crashed against the steep cliffs and white spray leapt high into the air. Beyond the heaving waves was a smaller island.

  “There,” Cainer said, pointing.

  Evann-Sin narrowed his eyes. What he saw amazed him. “That is your flying ship?”

  “It is called a L.R.C.,” the Reaper informed him. “A long-range cruiser.”

  Situated on a small island about a hundred yards off the coast of the Isle of Uaigneas, a large object sat perched, like a black bird of prey waiting to pounce upon its victim. The “beak” of the strange contraption pointed toward the ground as though it was in search of food. Stretched out to either side of the long neck of the object, two huge wings gleamed in the midmorning sun. Droplets of water from the earlier rain sparkled like jewels on the dark skin of the craft.

  “By the gods,” Kaibyn whispered. “Look at her!”

  “She’s a sweet machine,” Cainer said in a wistful voice. “The best in the fleet, actually.”

  “Does she have a name?” the demon asked.

  “The Levant,” the Reaper replied as though he spoke a lover’s name. “I sit here hours on end remembering what it felt to fly her, to soar into the heavens and wing my way from world to world. She is as fleet as the wind, as powerful as a vortex but as silent as a gentle breeze.”

  “The Levant,” Kaibyn repeated, his tone filled with awe.

  Cainer flexed his hands. “I remember well my hands on the controls.” He looked down at his open palms. “I remember the feel of her instantly obeying my every command.” He looked back at the ship. “I dream of flying that beauty almost as often as I dream of my lady.”

  “How did Morrigunia get it here?” Evann-Sin asked.

  Cainer shrugged. “My guess is she used magical means to bring it here for I know damned well she couldn’t fly her.”

  “That’s how we will be traveling to the Abyss?” Evann-Sin inquired.

  “How you will be traveling to the Abyss,” Kaibyn corrected. “You know I can’t accompany you, warrior.”

  “And you think I can fly it?” the warrior asked, his eyes wide. “You are the one who can fly, demon!”

  “But he wouldn’t be able to fly that baby,” Cainer told him. “She was designed especially for me. Her console was built for my body and her controls operate only at my command for I programmed her.”

  “But…”

  The Reaper held up his hand. “Once you have the fledgling inside you, you will know everything I know because it knows everything I’ve ever learned. My personal history will be as clear to you as it is to me. What I can do, you will be able to do.”

  “The f-fledgling?” Evann-Sin questioned, swallowing hard. “You mean the p-parasite?”

  “Aye, warrior,” Cainer Cree replied. “You must accept the fledgling as well as partake of a cup of blood. The nestling will bond to the blood as it flows through your body.”

  “How does he get that disgusting thing into him?” Kaibyn asked.

  “One of you will need to harvest the nasty little bitch from my body, make a small incision on Riel’s back and allow it to enter.”

  The warrior turned a pasty green color and looked as though he were inhaling a particularly noxious odor. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he commented.

  “But we can’t do that here,” Kaibyn said. “Introducing it to his body, I mean.”

  Cainer shook his head. “No, else he’d be trapped here just like me. You will need to take him over to the island, let the fledgling do its job then he’ll be able to fly The Levant to the Abyss.”

  Evann-Sin was shaking his head. “Even if I could fly it, I have no idea where the Abyss is!”

  “It’s more a state of mind that an actual place,” Kaibyn muttered.

  “But it does exist in real time,” Cainer remarked. “Once you have impregnated the warrior with the parasite, come back here and I will gather the information from your memory, give Riel the coordinates so he can program them into the navigational system and…”

  “Program? Coordinates? Naviga…” The warrior threw his hands up. “This is far beyond my ability to grasp it, Reaper!”

  “It won’t be after you Transition.”

  “The Abyss is a vast place,” Kaibyn reminded the Reaper. “How will we go about finding Tamara in that immensity?”

  “With what is in your pocket,” Cainer said.

  “My pocket?” Evann-Sin questioned then remembered the bloody kerchief that had come unwound from Tamara’s hand. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

  “What is that?” Kaibyn asked.

  “It is his lady’s blood,” Cainer replied, and before the warrior could ask, he told him it had come from her injury on the battlements during the skirmish.

  Evann-Sin stared down at the blood then brought the stain to his lips and kissed it. “What good does this do?”

  “Reapers can track through the DNA in that sample. I’ve never done it, but I know it can be done. If I can do it, you will be able to once you are Reaper. You will be able to find her from the unique smell of her blood.”

  “I don’t know,” Evann-Sin said, shaking his head. He plowed his fingers through his hair. “I just don’t know that I can do this.”

  Cainer stared at him for a long moment. “Do you want your woman back?”

  “Of course, but…”

  “How much are you willing to give up in order to be with her?”

  Evann-Sin lifted his chin. “I would give my life!”

  “And that is exactly what you will be doing,” the Reaper reminded him. “If you aren’t man enough to accept that, if you are too squeamish to become One with the Blood, get the fuck off my island.”

  The warrior looked from the Reaper to the airship, then back again. His hands were clenched at his sides and a vein throbbed brutally in his neck. Once more, he turned to look at
the black bird of prey perched upon the island.

  “You think I can fly that?” he asked at last.

  “You will be able to fly her as well as I ever could.”

  “To the Abyss?”

  “To my home world if need be,” Cainer agreed.

  “But there is no fuel,” Kaibyn reminded the Reaper.

  “Ah, but there you are wrong, my friend. I have had many years to sit here on this bluff and think about what I could use to fuel her. I have spent hour after hour after hour contemplating the problem. On Ghaoithe, I was an engineer before I went to the Academy and became a pilot. I studied the properties of minerals and ores, and I knew the composition of each and every crystal, every ore that could be harvested for energy to drive that ship. A year ago—when the Mage showed up to tell me you would be coming—I told him what I needed and he procured it for me. Everything you will need to get her up and running is there on the island. You will know what to do when you come out of Transition.”

  Evann-Sin hunkered down on the ground and perched there with his elbows on his thighs. He was staring hard at The Levant and was silent for a long time.

  Neither Cainer nor Kaibyn broke the other man’s concentration for it was obvious he was striving to make a decision on the matter. His eyes were narrowed as he studied the ship. When at last he spoke, he didn’t look at his companions.

  “I have a question for you, Reaper,” he said.

  Cainer folded his arms over his chest. “And that is?”

  “Morrigunia cast a Geas on you so you cannot cross running water.”

  “Aye.”

  “Because the parasite is afraid you will be pulled down into the water and drown.”

  “Aye.”

  “Same would hold true of crossing a bridge, I suppose. The parasite would not allow it.”

  “Those are statements, warrior, not a question,” Kaibyn said with a grunt.

  “You have the right of it. So what?”

  Without taking his gaze from the ship, he got to his feet and with his hands on his hips asked if Cainer could cross running water if he was flying over it.

  When Cainer did not answer, Evann-Sin craned his head around and looked up at the Reaper. The look on that man’s face brought a slow smile to the warrior’s.

  “Am I right in thinking that if you were on The Levant, you could cross the water without the parasite being afraid?”

  Kaibyn smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “By the gods, of course! He can’t put even the tip of a toe in the water but as long as he isn’t touching it, he should be able to cross it!” He drew in a quick breath. “Can we get the ship over here to this island?”

  Cainer Cree turned his eyes to his ship. “She has hover capabilities and can land down on the beach. She has vertical takeoff so we have no need of a runway. I could board her unless Morrigunia stops me with another Geas.”

  “She’s not here,” Evann-Sin reminded him. “She hasn’t been here in nine years.”

  “She’s forgotten about you, Reaper,” Kaibyn suggested.

  “Don’t count on it.”

  “You want off this bloody island?” Evann-Sin asked.

  Cainer nodded slowly. He returned his gaze to Evann-Sin and stared long and hard at the man. “I wouldn’t be touching the water,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t be in the gods-be-damned water—I wouldn’t be on the gods-be-damned water. I would be over the gods-be-damned water.”

  “That’s what I’m saying,” Evann-Sin agreed.

  Cainer turned once more to the ship. “All that thinking,” he said, unfolding his arms. “All that fucking thinking, all those fucking years, and I never thought of that.”

  “Then let’s get this caravan on the road before Morrigunia thinks of it, too!” the warrior said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was the most hideous thing Evann-Sin had ever seen in his life. The wriggling creature was about two inches long, a sickly grayish-green color with a triangular head and twin rows of sharp teeth that dripped some kind of noxious slime. Whipping back and forth upon the fingers of the demon, it tried to bite Kaibyn, lashing out with a horny tail.

  The Reaper sat up, the incision in his flesh over his left kidney healing as Evann-Sin watched. Within a matter of a few moment’s time, only a slender trickle of blood was left to mark where the fledgling had been removed from Cainer’s back.

  “Another advantageous thing about being a Reaper is the almost instantaneous healing ability.” He smiled. “And the long life.”

  “By the gods, this thing stinks as bad as the slime under the Abyss!” Kaibyn remarked. He held the parasite at arm’s length.

  “Put it in the jug and make sure the lid is tight else it will wriggle free,” Cainer warned.

  Handing Kaibyn a small stoneware jug, Evann-Sin watched as the demon dropped the wiggling creature inside and quickly plopped the lid in place.

  “Once you are on The Levant, all you’ll need to do is cut the same size incision in Riel’s back as you cut into mine, and then shake the creature out of the jug. It will slither inside him of its own accord.”

  “Such a delightful thought,” Evann-Sin whispered.

  “It will hurt like hell, warrior,” Cainer warned. “I won’t lie to you about it, but the pain lasts only a few minutes.”

  “When will he Transition?” Kaibyn asked.

  “Hopefully within an hour of being impregnated with the fledgling.”

  Evann-Sin winced. “You couldn’t think of a better word than that to describe introducing it to my back?”

  Cainer shrugged. “It is what it is,” the Reaper told him. “And the sooner the thing is done, the sooner you can Transition. The sooner you Transition…”

  “The sooner he’ll be able to fly your machine,” Kaibyn finished.

  “And take me off this gods-be-damned island,” Cainer agreed.

  “Do you suppose Master Jabali knew this would happen?” Evann-Sin asked.

  “The Mage?” Cainer asked. “He must have. I only wish the son-of-a-bitch had told me!”

  “And run the risk of Morrigunia visiting you and finding out?” Evann-Sin inquired.

  “Aye, well, I see your point.”

  “All right,” Kaibyn said, stuffing the stoneware jug into a rucksack. “Let’s get across to the island and inside the ship. Every minute Tamara remains in Lilit’s hands is anathema to me.”

  At the mention of his lady, Evann-Sin flinched. Pain crossed his features and settled deep into his golden eyes.

  “Go with the Wind, my friends,” Cainer blessed them. “Now, hurry!”

  The Reaper stood intrigued as the demon took hold of the warrior’s arm and in the blink of an eye propelled them both off the Isle of Uaigneas. Putting up a hand to shield his eyes from the fierce glare of the setting sun, he watched as the two appeared on Achasán Isle.

  “Why do they call it that?” the warrior had asked.

  “Morrigunia named it,” Cainer had explained. “In the Chalean High Speech, Achasán means to taunt.” He had nodded toward the ship. “She put The Levant there to remind me of the loss of my freedom and what would never be again.”

  Evann-Sin and Kaibyn had reached The Levant and were standing there staring up at its dark hull. They appeared to be arguing about something then Kaibyn strode forward and pushed against the panel Cainer had told them would open the hatchway of the ship.

  The Reaper chuckled as both men jumped back as the hatchway door shot up to grant them entry and a section of gangplank dropped into place on the ground. He shook his head as the two once more started arguing. His hardy laughter frightened a nearby flock of seagulls as he watched Kaibyn shove Evann-Sin up the metal gangplank. When both men had disappeared inside the craft, the Reaper let out a long breath.

  He was not assured that he would ever leave the island upon which he was standing. The fatalist inside him warned that something would happen to prevent his leaving. It was only a matter of time before Morrigunia became awar
e of the plans and appeared to put a stop to his escape.

  Not that it really mattered. As much as he wanted to gain his freedom again, to know the companionship of other men, he had no illusions that such would be allowed. Over the many long years he had been a captive there, he had gradually come to accept his fate and stop railing against it. He knew that everyone—most especially the lady he had loved more than his own life—for whom he had held any degree of affection had long since ceased to exist. There would no longer be anyone on his world that he would know or who would know him. He might well be found in the Ghaoithe history banks but even that would be so ancient as to have no meaning to those alive today.

  “What is there for me beyond this time and place?” he asked aloud.

  The wind seemed to sough the answer—only freedom.

  Kaibyn appeared at the hatchway and waved his arm. It was the signal that everything was in place and he was about to insert the fledgling in the warrior.

  “Hurry,” Cainer whispered, his heart pounding. As much as he feared Morrigunia’s appearance, a part of him hoped—nay, prayed—he would be able to bid farewell to Uaigneas.

  Observing her prisoner as he paced the rocky ridge of the bluff overlooking Achasán Island, Morrigunia, the Goddess of War, Life and Death could not help but admire the sheer male beauty of Cainer Cree. With his broad shoulders and narrow hips, flat belly striated with hard muscle and his neatly turned ass, he was a specimen unlike any other with whom she had toyed over the eons. His dark hair blowing seductively in the sharpening breeze, he was—by far—the most handsome of those she had conquered.

  “And yet, you insist on denying me, don’t you, lover?” she whispered.

  The Reaper stilled and whipped around, searching the trees. He had intercepted the emotion if not the actual thoughts and words aimed at him. His eyes were wide, full of unaccustomed fear as he sought the source of his unease.

  Morrigunia cocked her head to one side and smiled. He could not see her though she was only a few feet away. If she so desired, she could reach out and caress that beautiful face, those chiseled lips. She could stroke the sleek softness of his hair, pushing it out of his eyes and run her fingers through the thickness.