The Orphans of New Lur

by Blake Vanier

  “I ain’t dealing with this crap.” Walter turns and storms off to his four-wheeler. He rips on the throttle and sprays up more dirt and plants, accelerating up the hill.

  Pete shakes his head. “He’s always like that, if you were gonna ask. Luckily, his shift is almost over, and I can get away from his constant complaining about money. So, care for a ride? I think two of you could fit on the back.”

  Ryder steps forward. “No, sir. Thanks for the offer. We’ll walk up together.”

  Thea jumps forward. “But―”

  Ryder throws her a stern look. She closes her mouth and wilts down.

  Pete nods his head, smiling. “I understand. Well, you all have a good day. I’ll try to keep Walter busy until you all pass, so he doesn’t get a chance to harass you. Good luck. I’m sorry I can’t help more.” He jumps on his four-wheeler and drives up the hill.

  “I think he realized we were on our own,” Iona says.

  “Yeah…” Ryder nods. “It’s probably pretty obvious.”

  *****

  As they crest the hill between two of many watchtowers, a dark blue ocean spreads out along the horizon spotted with ships of all sizes. The ocean swells toward the coast where it had taken a bite out of the land, creating a large bay. The city wraps around its edges with many piers poking out from the coast. The city itself has clusters of skyscrapers close to the water and fans out toward a ring of agricultural areas.

  Thea throws her hand over her mouth. “Holy cow!”

  Korbin lets out a deep breath and relaxes. “Finally, something that isn’t a heap of junk!”

  “Wow, we do have a ways to go,” Ryder says. He starts down the hill with long strides, head first into a gentle breeze tinged with sea salt. “All I can think about is some real food… so let’s hurry.”

  Most of the day passes while the children slog toward the city. They catch a fortunate break in the form of a public transportation bus. It takes them all the way down to the water and drops them off at Pier Eighteen, just outside the open trade market.

  They are inundated by an incredible variety of smells, noises, and people of all shapes, sizes, and looks. The crowd flows in currents and electrifies the air as people barter through rows of vendor stands that fill the center of a square. Shops form the perimeter of the market with the ocean on the far side.

  There is a dark skinned, longhaired race that pokes out from the crowd, several heads taller than the Humans. They make the Erohsians look like children by comparison. Their deep voices are easy to pluck from the hustle and bustle of the market. They wear sleeveless shirts, and some have ivory tattoos on their arms.

  A waft of fried seafood and baked goods from Pier Eighteen pulls the children forward. Before they reach the pier, they are distracted by a burst of flame, erupting from the center of a gathered crowd. Gasps of awe dispel their concern and they squeeze their way to the front where they find a woman in a tight grey outfit addressing the crowd. Behind her is a raised platform with a grated metal floor and poles sticking up from the corners. A series of large gas burners are set up below.

  She turns to the crowd, holding up her hands. “And for my final act―since I can’t seem to keep a man around to dance with―I will dance with fire.”

  “I’d dance with you!” a man from the crowd yells.

  The performer looks in the direction of the voice, squinting. “Oh, it’s not that I can’t get a man. It’s just that they always seem to burst into flames.” She holds out her hand. “Are you still interested?” The man is silent. After a moment, she shrugs. “And that’s why I’m single.” The crowd laughs.

  The performer turns on the gas to each of the burners under the grating then pushes play on her portable stereo. She jumps on the grating, places her hands on her hips, and taps her foot impatiently. After a long moment, fire spreads from the grating like a fountain of surging water, forming the shape of a man. She stops tapping her foot, looking at him with a cocked head. The man of fire puts his arms out, shrugging. She waves her hand at him and turns to the crowd. “It looks like men of fire are no better than men of flesh. Always late.” The crowd lets out a muffled chuckle.

  The performer turns back to the man of fire and reaches out her hand; he takes it just as the brass instruments and drums from the stereo kick in. They dance around the grate and each other, spinning and twisting about their locked arms in a series of seamless moves synchronized with the music. As the instruments hit their climax, the performer jumps into the air and the man of fire twists, catching her hip with one arm over his head so she is parallel with the ground. He holds her above his head, rotating her so the crowd can see her straight on. After a slight pause, the man of fire lowers her to the ground. His form collapses in a reversal to how he was formed. The performer takes a bow and the crowd cheers.

  She hops off the grating, grabs a bucket, and places it at the front of the crowd. “If you liked my show and you want to show your appreciation, then I’d be happy to take your money. If you didn’t like my show, I’d still be happy to take your money.” She takes one final bow. “I’ll be here again tomorrow. Tell your friends!”

  After the children break free of the disintegrating crowd, Thea turns to the others. “That was sooo cool! How did she do that? Do you think the fire guy was real?”

  “It didn’t seem real,” Nero says. “What if it was just magic?”

  “Oh, shut up, Nero, it was totally real,” Korbin says. “How else would he catch her?”

  Ryder puts his hand on Nero’s back, walking toward the pier. “At the rate we’re going, we’ll have a million questions by the time we find someone to ask. Let’s at least get some food so we can think on full stomachs.”

  They make it to the pier, which is nothing more than a platform for more vendor stands and stores running along the sides. The booths down the center have fresh fish displayed in packed ice. Tanks of water are filled with crabs and lobsters crawling along the bottoms. Large stoves are covered with food. Some stands have delicious-smelling fried food on sticks. Others have creatures that look neither edible nor enjoyable to eat. Ryder leads them to a stand that has the simplest selection and orders sandwiches. They leave the pier and hurry to a calm section of the market along the ocean where there is an empty picnic table.

  Korbin eyes the bag on the table. “What’d you get us, Ryder?”

  Ryder reaches into the bag and pulls out small packages wrapped in white paper. “Not sure. I asked for something not too expensive and good. So, hopefully it’s good.” He hands out the packages to the others.

  Iona tears open the paper, eagerly chomping into the large fish sandwich. Her stomach hurts from the shock of warm food. For the next five minutes the children scarf down their meal while Illi falls into the horizon.

  “I’m stuffed,” Iona says as she leans back, surrendering to the remaining bit of her sandwich. I needed that. “So, what’s the plan?”

  Ryder swallows and clears his mouth. “Umm…” He looks up at the quickly darkening sky. “I guess we need to figure out where to sleep for the night. Tomorrow we can start to look for a boat we can jump on or something.”

  “I hope we don’t have to sleep on the streets,” Nero says. “I bet that’s where all the bad people come out.”

  “Can we rent a room at an inn or something?” Iona asks.

  “Yeah, maybe. I just don’t want to spend too much of our money,” Ryder says.

  A small dark boy, with matted hair and a dirty old button up shirt that has the sleeves rolled up, slides next to Thea. “Hey!” Thea squeaks, moving as far over as she can. “I couldn’t help but hear you’re looking for a place to stay.”

  Ryder glares at the boy. “Did anyone ever teach you to mind your own business?”

  The boy’s mouth opens in mock shock. “Excuse me. I only thought you could use my help. Seeing that I know the area, I know of a few safe spots to spend the night.” He stands up. “But I guess I was wrong,” and starts to walk off.

&n
bsp; Ryder jumps up from his seat. “Wait! Maybe we can use your help.”

  The boy sits back down. “See? I can always recognize fellow orphans, though it seems you all are still fresh.” He looks at the others. When nobody says anything, he smiles. “My name is Totos, and for a small but reasonable price I can show you a safe place to turn in. Off the streets. For free.” He grabs the remaining bit of Iona’s sandwich and casually starts to eat. She glares at him, wiping her suddenly sweaty palms off on her pants.

  “What’s the small price?” Ryder asks.

  Totos swallows the remains of the sandwich and licks his fingers. “Ten Anterren.”

  “I’ll give you five now and five later.”

  “Deal!” Totos holds out his hand and Ryder gives him a paper bill. “Okay, follow me.”

  They leave the comfortable market behind, to be replaced by commercial buildings and warehouses. The ships along the piers are huge, made for business, not comfort. In the fresh moonlight, the details of the ships are hidden, but they look like a combination of freight and old battleships. Totos begins to sing, swaying side to side.

  “Have you heard of an isle, where the beaches are gold?

  The water is warm, the wind never cold.

  The treasures are endless, greatest of lore.

  With all the food you can eat and all the drink you can pour.

  Have you heard of an isle, where no boat can go?

  Many have searched but no one may know.

  Blood for your boat, every action worthwhile.

  Is the price you must pay to reach Cainin’s Isle.”

  Iona cringes. This is torture. If the singing doesn’t kill me, it’ll probably get us caught for trespassing.

  Totos leads them to a door on the side of a warehouse. He fiddles for a moment then opens the door on smooth hinges.

  Totos turns to the others. “Please, after you.”

  Ryder looks at Totos then into the dark doorway. “Are you sure? This place doesn’t look abandoned.”

  “Well, it’s not, so you’ll have to make sure you’re out by morning.”

  Ryder hesitates. “I don’t know. We really don’t need any more trouble.”

  Totos shakes his head. “No, no, no. No trouble at all. Trust me. Here, I’ll even give you this, so you can get in tomorrow.” He hands them the tool he used to open the warehouse door. “The doors only lock from the outside, so getting out is easy.” He hands Ryder a fancy-looking lock picker. Ryder still hesitates. “Either this or one hundred Anterren for a room at an inn… or sleeping on the streets, where you’re just begging for trouble.”

  “Errrr. Fine.” Ryder moves through the door. Korbin, Thea, and Iona follow.

  The door closes behind them, plunging the area into total darkness. The children pop on their flashlights, revealing crates all around, stacked almost to the ceiling.

  Totos takes them to a large metal crate in the back of the warehouse, pulling up the locking mechanism to the double doors. One door after another swings open. There are blankets and pillows strewn across the inside.

  Iona looks at the castors the large crate sits on. Wheels? Iona shines her light on Totos’s face. “This seems really nice. Where are you going to sleep?”

  Totos covers his eyes. “This is my favorite spot and I’ve been collecting for a while. This isn’t my only place, so you all can have it for a couple weeks if you need.”

  Iona lowers her light. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch, just the ten Anterren… Unless you wish to pay me more?”

  Ryder pulls another few bills from his pocket, handing it to Totos. “No, ten is just fine.”

  “I call this pillow!” Thea says as she jumps into the crate onto a red, body-sized pillow. Korbin follows and they start to wrestle.

  “Come on, wait just a second.” Iona tries to grab one of them without going into the crate. “Get back here!”

  Korbin looks at Iona then jumps at her. He grabs her wrist, pulling her onto the blankets. “Whatcha going to do now?”

  Thea jumps on Korbin’s back while Iona struggles to free herself. “Korbin, hold on!” Iona gasps.

  Ryder shakes his head, turning back to Totos. “Thanks for your help.”

  Totos smirks. “No, thank you. You’ve done more for me than you can imagine.” Totos signals with his head for Ryder to go into the crate. “Here, let me help you with the door before I leave.”

  “Thanks.” Ryder steps into the crate and turns to watch the wrestling match between the others.

  One of the double doors closes with a thud. Iona pushes Korbin off but his tight grip on her arm prevents her from standing. “No, stop!” she yells.

  The other door closes and the locking mechanism screeches shut. Everyone turns to the door. Iona pushes Korbin away, her heart beating uncomfortably.

  Ryder shoves the doors, but they are firmly shut. “Let us out!” He bangs on the metal with both fists. The rest of the children join in.

  Suddenly the crate starts to move, throwing the children off balance. The vibrations of the wheels on the hard cement floor resonate through the metal walls.

  “Where are they taking us? What’s going on?” Thea asks.

  Iona slides down the wall in one of the corners. She hugs her knees and shakes her head. We’re trapped…

  9

  Captured

  Nero

  Nero looks out at the piers and the dark boats floating on the water. I wonder where those ships have been… or who could be watching us. He hurries to catch up with the singing Totos, who is leading Ryder and the others.

  There’s something about him I don’t like… I guess there isn’t much I can do, unless I say something. He plunges his hand into his pocket, grabbing his bracelet. But then they’ll just make fun of me for being scared.

  He glances at the ships then into the shadows of the buildings, feeling like he is being watched. Totos turns the corner of a warehouse, disappearing into its shadow.

  Hey!

  Nero whips his head around to look behind him, then around the docks. He puts his hand on his chest, where his heart is thumping against his ribs. I’m definitely losing it. Suddenly, he catches a glimpse of a faint violet light to the side of the building up ahead. What’s that? Nero hurries over to the building, staying in the shadows as much as possible.

  He carefully pokes his head around the corner, seeing the light further away, off behind another building.

  “Errrr.” Nero runs after it.

  He turns the corner and again, the light is further away. “What the heck!” The run turns into a sprint. He continues to chase the light, but every time he turns a corner, it is farther away. He speeds around another bend. This time, the light is gone. He searches the lane, but there is no sign of it.

  “Dang it!” The darkness of the quiet alley creeps in on him. He turns around. Where am I?

  He sprints back the way he came, hesitating at each turn, struggling to remember where to go. Dang it, dang it, dang it! All the warehouses and alleys look the same. What if I can’t find them? Where will I sleep? What if I can’t find them tomorrow? He sprints down another alley. Why do I always get separated! “I’m so stupid!”

  Finally, Nero pops around the corner of a warehouse back by the piers. He slows down, trying to recover his breath. Okay, this looks familiar. I just need to remember exactly where I left them. Maybe I can yell to get their attention.

  He walks up to the warehouse where he last saw Totos. Muffled voices are coming from inside. Nero jumps behind a pile of old wooden pallets stacked to the side. The large garage door in the front of the warehouse rolls up with a clanking of metal. It jerks to a stop. Suddenly, the night seems quiet.

  A man in black steps out from the opening. “Alright, hurry it along. Get the cargo back to the ship before the Cap’n gets upset.”

  Two other men and a small boy tug on a rope attached to a giant crate with wheels.

  Totos! What’s he doing?

  The f
irst man leads the group down the road to the water line. Muffled banging and voices echo from the crate.

  Who’s in the crate? Nero gulps. No no no. What’s going on?

  As the crate moves along the edge of the bay, Nero scuttles through the shadows of the buildings in a frantic haze of thought. He follows as the man in black leads the crate to a pier below the silhouette of a large warship. From a distance, Nero watches the crate stop. A ramp extends from the boat and other workers pull the crate aboard. The ramp retracts, and the people disappear.

  This can’t be happening! Nero jumps out of his hiding spot, running back to the warehouse. He searches for his friends, yelling out to them and hoping his suspicion is wrong. After several hours, exhaustion and reality settle heavily upon him. He wanders back to the picnic table where they had all eaten dinner and falls into a fitful sleep.

  A roaring fire consumes everything, and a person screams.

  Nero wakes up in a cold sweat, his heart racing. Stupid dream. He blinks his eyes a couple of times, rubbing them with shaking hands. The morning light is still dim, and the ocean breeze carries a bite. He crosses his arms for warmth. Where am I? The memories of the night before stab him like a searing hot poker. He curls up into a ball and forces his eyes shut. This has to be another bad dream.

  Nero opens his eyes again; this time the memories of last night are there to greet him immediately. He rolls onto his back, covering his face with his hands. What am I going to do? When he removes his hands, he notices a pair of covered legs sitting at the bench. Nero freezes. Maybe they haven’t noticed me…

  “I thought you were going to sleep all day,” a woman’s voice says from above. He looks around carefully, expecting to see someone walking up to the table.