Flight of the Phoenix

by Melanie Thompson

  “I say, Tomlinson, I believe this strange contraption is making air so we can exist beneath the sea.” Brighthouse had to yell to be heard over the roaring engines.

  Tomlinson examined the pumping machine Brighthouse indicated. The machine contained a glass globe filled with pale-blue liquid and a bellows-like contraption that pumped rhythmically connected to some of the brass pipes that lined the ceiling. “I wonder how it works?” Tomlinson mused.

  “The fluid generates the right mixture of breathable air,” Father Antonio said in a voice that was not loud but carried clearly over the engine noise. “It is then pumped throughout the ship.”

  “What is the composition of the fluid?” Tomlinson screamed.

  “That, my son, is a secret only Tures knows.”

  They moved to examine the engines. The two huge cylindrical machines sat on platforms. Smokestacks shot out the top and through the roof of the ship. Each engine had a turning rod emerging from the back that disappeared through the bulkhead. The spinning rod was shiny with grease and encased in a glass box that protected it and those inside the compartment. “Were you to get caught in the spinning rods, you would be killed,” Father Antonio said. “The power of the engines is so great, and we do not have the ability to stop it from turning the screw fast enough to save you.”

  “Where is the fuel kept?” Tomlinson asked. His heart pounded with excitement as he thought about discovering a fuel concentrated enough to feed a very lightweight motor that would power his flying machine.

  Father Antonio opened one of six chests piled against the wall. Inside, cubes of some kind of organic material, each cube approximately two inches wide, were stacked closely together filling the chest. With his hand shaking, Tomlinson took one of the cubes. It was surprisingly heavy. He sniffed it. The funny chemical smell he’d detected upon entering the compartment came from the cubes. “What is this?”

  Father Antonio shrugged. “I do not know, my son. It is mined in the Mountains of the Moon by minions dedicated to Tures. My mistress discovered this substance at the headwaters of the Nile when she was still a young woman. She was born in Egypt and traveled to the mountains searching for the lost mines of King Solomon with her husband. It was there she found a cave filled with this substance and it was there she met Lazarus. He freed her from her marriage and from all worldly concerns, but she remembered the strange substance when she met Sir Horace. He was building this ship and needed a fuel to power his steam engines.”

  Tomlinson cleared his throat. “What happened to Sir Horace?”

  The tall vampire smiled and his fangs were revealed. “He had a fatal accident and my mistress took over the building of the ship.”

  “I believe Africa is our destination,” Tomlinson yelled into Brighthouse’s ear.

  Brighthouse looked stunned. “You can’t be serious. Africa?”

  “Absolutely, my good man, we are headed for the Congo.”

  * * * *

  Bryn woke next to Quinn who still slept. She rose quietly without waking him, washed her face in the tiny basin set cleverly into a wall panel, and raked her fingers through her hair. It was a crazy mess. She was struggling with it when someone scratched on the door. She opened it to a smiling Samantha.

  Bryn stared at Sam for several seconds. Her former lover wore sailors baggy pants shoved into the open tops of slouched black boots. A sash was tied around her waist and a saber casually hung from it. Her white shirt was open at the throat to reveal a gold necklace Bryn had never seen before. Bryn embraced her. “Where did she take you?”

  Sam hushed her, grabbed her hand and led her out of the cabin and into the passageway. Once in the passageway, Sam hugged her again. “I have passed the most wondrous night. Tures is amazing.”

  Bryn frowned. For some reason she was not happy to hear these words out of Sam’s mouth. “How so?” She asked as Sam led her through a maze of narrow passages to a small room filled with crew members who still remained among the living. They were seated at tables eating. Bryn’s stomach growled.

  Sam slipped around the tables; the room was crowded and very small, and found two plates which she filled with slices of cured meat and porridge. Bryn accepted one and they sat in two spaces recently vacated by crew members with leprosy. “Why are all the living crew members diseased?” Bryn whispered.

  “Tures told me leprosy and a few other diseases are dangerous to vampires. She recruits the afflicted because they are safe and provide the vampires with no temptation to stray from her strictly-imposed ban on consuming human blood.”

  Bryn dug into the food. “Makes sense,” she finally said. “Did you get to see much of the ship?”

  Sam colored and dropped her eyes. “Some,” she mumbled.

  Bryn couldn’t help but laugh. She placed her hand on Sam’s arm. “It’s alright, my love. I am happy for you. I found someone. It is good that you seem to have also discovered love.”

  Sam beamed. “The ship is a marvel. The command center is surrounded by huge glass panels. You can see the ocean bottom. Fish swim around the ship as it moves through the water. It is enchanting.”

  “Did you get to see the engines?”

  Sam shook her head. “No, but I heard the priest, Father Antonio, took Tomlinson and the Commodore through them earlier. The engines use cubes of fuel mined in the Mountains of the Moon. Tures is happy to take us up the Congo because she wishes to procure more of it. Tomlinson raved about how light and concentrated it was. If we can obtain enough, it will revolutionized steam power. We shall be able to build any number of small, lightweight engines to do…oh I don’t know how many wonderful things.”

  “If this fuel is only available there,” Bryn said. “It will not be very practical.”

  Sam frowned. “Do not be so negative. I am sure if we obtain enough, Tomlinson or Monsieur Diesel will be able to discern its components and either manufacture the substance in the lab or a reasonable facsimile with all of its useful properties. We will have the example. Maybe we can find another source if we can’t manufacture it. The discovery is momentous either way.”

  Bryn patted her hand. “As you say, my dear. How fast does this craft travel? I would like to know when we can expect to arrive at the Congo River.”

  “I shall ask Tures. She’s currently in the command center.”

  “Have you seen my sister?”

  Sam shook her head. “She was sleeping earlier. We can go check on her if you like.”

  Bryn rose to do just this when the door opened and Fenix walked in. She looked radiant, not a hair out of place, and was wearing breeches and boots.

  Bryn examined her sister for a moment and decided her new air of competence and self-assurance was annoying in the extreme. She knew she should be happy Fenix had matured and assumed control of her life but she felt as though she’d lost something. Where was her darling immature little sister who always needed her? She was gone, replaced by the new Fenix who not only didn’t need her big sister to take care of her, but had an alarming tendency to take charge.

  “Bryn,” Fenix exclaimed. “We’ve been invited to join Tures in the control room.”

  Fenix bubbled with enthusiasm. Bryn had to fight her first impulse which was to squash her excitement. She forced herself to smile. “Then by all means, let us go inspect the wonders of the ship.”

  Fenix grabbed her hand and led her through the maze of narrow passages. The entire ship seemed to be constructed of brass and mahogany, a wood that never rotted, resisted worms and was impervious to water damage. They emerged from the maze into a large open cabin at the front of the undersea vessel. Tures stood with her hands spread above a globe filled with swirling blue liquid. When she moved her hands, the liquid followed the pattern she created. Bryn was immediately captivated. “What is that?” She asked Sam in a low voice.

  But the vampire heard her and lifted her head. “This liquid is filled with tiny living creatures that swim through the pipes in the ceiling to transmit commands to my engine room.
Only vampires can hear them or understand their language. I couldn’t run the ship without them. They are also sea creatures so they are able to enlist the aid of other sea creatures when we run into trouble.”

  Bryn’s interest was captured. “What a unique idea. How did you discover it?”

  Tures dropped her head and smiled. “I did not. The ancients knew about these creatures long before I existed. I just discovered how to keep them alive while I use them.”

  Bryn couldn’t resist spreading her hands and touching one of the globes. She immediately snatched her hand away. “It shocked me,” she said to Tures.

  “Yes, the tiny creatures are very protective of themselves and of this ship. They are imbued with electrical properties which help them communicate with the sea creatures outside the ship.”

  “I can hear a tiny sound like a thousand voices whispering,” Bryn said.

  “Yes, that is them. We call them masika pire.”

  “Ocean fleas?”

  Tures nodded. “One translation.”

  Fenix and Sam were staring out the huge windows in the nose of the vessel. A sudden dark shape swam by, casting the room into deep shadow. Fenix screamed and Bryn spun to look. Draak Priest, in his dragon form, had found them. The huge dragon opened his mouth and liquid fire flowed toward the ship. The globe under Tures’s hands swirled with activity and the ship abruptly dived. Bryn tumbled to the deck, Fenix held onto one of the brass rails lining the room and Sam rode the slanted deck like she’d been born on it.

  The liquid fire, much like molten lava, flowed above the ship, missing the nose but raking the top and the dome. Alarms sounded as the ship rolled to the right, turned and came back to fight.

  Tures stepped to the second globe as Bryn pulled herself up using one of the formed chairs placed in the center of the room. “Strap yourselves in,” Tures said in a tight voice. “Things are about to get crazy.”

  “Kill him,” Bryn snarled.

  “I plan to try,” Tures said. “Sam, make your way to the engine room and tell Father Antonio I’m activating the cannons and calling in the leviathans.”

  Samantha ran out of the room, easily handling the tilted deck and the rolling motion of the ship as it blasted forward at an amazing speed. Fenix crawled across the deck and into the chair next to Bryn’s. They now had a ringside seat for an amazing battle. Whales swept toward the ship. “Blue whales,” Fenix said.

  The huge creatures lived off tiny organisms, but right now they were after big prey, particularly a big black dragon. Twin booms echoed through the ship which immediately rocked violently. “They’re firing at him,” Bryn whispered.

  More whales, these possessing bumpy skin and a hump, shot toward the dark shadow streaking through the water that was Draak Priest. Tures’s hands flew above the globes as she communicated with the sea fleas.

  A stream of molten fire spread across their field of vision. The wake cast by the blue whales as they fled the fire rocked the ship. Priest, his wings folded against his sides as he swam, chased the whales, spewing molten flames. Bryn gasped as one of the whales rammed Priest, rolling the black dragon over and over. But the dragon righted himself and shot toward the ship on a collision course.

  “Fire!” Tures screamed.

  The swirling blue liquid suddenly turned gold. Tubular bombs powered by twin screws shot out of the ship, rocking it. One of them hit the dragon. A hole opened up in its side. Blood spewed into the green sea and a school of sharks attacked the open wound. The dragon rolled away from the sharks, righted itself and shot toward the surface trailing dark blood.

  “You hit him,” Bryn said.

  Tures snarled. “I didn’t kill the bastard.”

  “The sharks are after him” Fenix said. “Maybe they’ll catch him and finish him off.”

  Tures spread her hands over the second globe. “The pire say he took to the air and got away.”

  The ship slowly turned. Bryn watched as the sea life gathered to fight Priest gradually dispersed. “Maybe he’ll think twice before he attacks your ship again.”

  Tures nodded. “Possibly, but he seems obsessed. It is as Lazarus told me when he asked me to take you wherever you wanted to go. He told me to place my ship at your disposal. I resisted,” she shrugged. “It is my ship. But then I met Sam.”

  The look she cast Sam spoke volumes. It seemed to Bryn that Tures returned Sam’s feelings. The pair had fallen deeply in love. “How long will it take us to get to the mouth of the Congo River?”

  “We should arrive in three days if the weather holds. We ride beneath the surface so high seas are usually no problem, but serious storms can still cause delays.”

  “Three days,” Fenix said. “Three days and we’ll be on our way upriver to find Kivunjo and the dagger.”

  Tures nodded. “I shall accompany you to the Mountains of the Moon. I need to acquire more fuel and Lazarus instructed me to watch over Fenix.”

  Bryn’s eyes opened wide. “You still speak to him?”

  “Of course, and he also speaks to Fenix. Didn’t she tell you?”

  Bryn turned and glared at her sister. “No, she most assuredly did not and I don’t believe you. Fenix would confide in me. She’s always told me everything.”

  Tures shrugged. “Believe what you wish. It matters not to me.”

  Chapter 9

  Pain ate into Draak Priest’s side but he ignored it. He flew across the water toward Gibraltar and an ancient castle on the side of the Rock where a crumbling tower had sheltered him on many occasions. As he slowly circled the Rock, he tried to numb his mind to the constant haranguing of Cardinal Malenfant.

  “You fucked up, Priest. You had the ship. You should have prevailed. Your quarry was inside that undersea vessel. We should have finished both of them off so we can get on with finding a suitable victim for torture and a most delicious death. You can’t do anything right. Why-oh-why are you so incompetent? I get one chance for a corporeal life and it’s in you. You’re a bumbling oaf, Priest.”

  On and on Malenfant’s complaints and recriminations continued without pause. Priest landed on the tower and morphed back into his human form without answering the annoying voice echoing inside his head. If he were to go completely insane, who could blame him? The wound on his side leaked blood and foul ichor. He could smell it. Dragon blood mixed with human blood created a kind of suppuration found nowhere else.

  He tore a piece off the bottom of his robe, made a crude bandage and pressed it against his side. The pain was nothing to him. As an old man, he’d suffered far worse just trying to climb a steep set of stairs. His knees were now those of a young man. The pain in his side would soon grow less as his body healed. He’d obtained youth only to have his joy destroyed by the creature Malenfant.

  He descended the circular stairs to the base of the tower and entered a small room through a door set into its side. The door was very short. He had to duck to enter. The interior of the tower appeared to be more of the ruin, broken blocks of stone and filth. But a hidden door in the floor was soon uncovered and Priest descended deep into the rock. The darkness was no obstacle. He could see as clearly as if it were day. The stair led to a narrow passage traveling even deeper into the rock. It opened in a massive cave located under the old castle.

  Priest had sheltered there often in his lengthy past. A cot and a table sat in one corner. Priest sat on the rickety cot and thought. He would try to sleep and then continue to follow Bryn and her sister when he was rested.

  “You’re not going to sleep, are you?” Malenfant snarled inside his head. “Get up, get moving and find me a woman!”

  “I need rest.”

  “You can’t stop now. You must climb down into the city and find me a victim. I long to kill. I need to hear the screams of some innocent as she lies helpless before us. It has been so long…” The last word was a wail inside Priest’s head that went on and on.

  He grabbed his hair and tore out a handful. “I will rest and you will allow this or I
swear by my dragon mentor, I will find a priest and exorcise you.”

  Malenfant giggled hysterically. “Won’t work, my wonderful friend. I am no demon. I am merely a partner you agreed to take on when you used my bones in your perverted ritual. Now get up and find me a victim.”

  Priest moaned as he stumbled to his feet. “I can’t. Don’t you see driving me this hard will kill me and then you will live no more as well? If I die, you die.”

  The voice laughed. “You’re immortal. Quit crying and get moving. I must taste blood this day or you will suffer the consequences.”

  Goaded beyond his limits, Priest left the comfort of the cave and stumbled toward the small town at the base of the rock. “If I find you a victim, then will you allow me to rest?”

  The voice purred. “Yes, Draak Priest. After we kill, then we can rest.”

  * * * *

  The trip under the sea to the mouth of the Congo River passed rapidly. Bryn tried to recoup her strength. She knew the trip upriver would be difficult. Sam and Tures continued to grow closer. She felt the loss of her friend but rejoiced over Sam’s newfound happiness.

  “Let’s go sit in the control room,” she said to Quinn who lay on their bunk with his hands behind his head.

  “Are we getting close?”

  “I would ask Tures that exact question. I think we must be. She said three days and yesterday was the third day.”

  Quinn swung his long legs over the side of the bunk. “I’ll be glad to get out of this sardine can.”

  Bryn smiled. “For one as tall as you, quarters inside this vessel must indeed be cramped.”

  Quinn grimaced. “I’ve been feeling a trifle claustrophobic. I don’t see how these people, if indeed you could call them people, live in this thing.”