The Redstar Rising Trilogy

by Rhett C. Bruno

  “I’ve got these,” Whitney said, holding out his arm.

  “What a gentleman,” Sora replied.

  Whitney was just about to say something smart when he saw one of their knees snap inward. Tum Tum stood behind him, a giant hammer in hand.

  “Not without me ye ain’t,” Tum Tum shouted.

  Whitney charged while they were distracted. He lowered his shoulder, and it connected with one of their stomachs. Luckily, Tum Tum noticed him and dropped to hands and knees at the last moment. The Shesaitju propelled backward, tripped over Tum Tum, and flipped over the railing into the icy waters of the bay.

  The remaining two went back to back. One kept their sword trained on Tum Tum and the other on Whitney.

  “If ye’d told me your plan it’d saved me a heap of trouble,” Tum Tum said.

  “But you love trouble,” Whitney replied.

  The warrior swung at Whitney, who rolled aside and came up wielding the dagger he stole from Fenton. Tum Tum slammed his hammer down on the deck with all his might. The wood planks nearby came unsettled, and Whitney’s opponent lost balance when he went to take another swipe.

  “Watch the ship! We need it!”

  Whitney ducked to the side, then darted forward and delivered a deep slice through his opponent’s hamstring. At the same time, Tum Tum raised the handle of his hammer into his target’s groin, then flipped him, legs first. His head slammed into the floor, knocking him out cold.

  “Uh, Whitney, when you boys are done!” Sora said.

  Whitney looked back. Several more Shesaitju were bounding down the wharf toward the ship, desperate for any suitable vessel.

  “Tum Tum, hoist the mainsail!” Whitney ordered.

  “I won’t be able to reach, ye dolt,” he said. “This ship was made for taller men.”

  “Must I do it all?” Whitney groaned. “Fine, just help Sora.”

  Whitney tossed her his dagger before hurrying to help Tum Tum prep for launch.

  Sora drew a cut along her palm, then raised her bloody hand toward the attackers and screamed. No ball or pillar of flame exploded from her hand as Whitney was used to. Only a smattering of pathetic embers spewed out.

  Whitney stopped by the mast. “Where’s your magic?” he hollered.

  “I… I don’t know,” she said, suddenly sounding faint. “I can’t manage even a spark.”

  Whitney was about to run back to help when Aquira soared off her shoulder. She swept in front of the Shesaitju, blowing a line of fire between the ship and the wharf. She didn’t pack much of a punch, but the heat was palpable.

  Tum Tum waddled over to the ramp to hold them off. The ramp was securely attached, but the dwarf brought his hammer down on it as one Shesaitju braved the flame. Just then, Whitney unfurled the sails, and they snapped up, catching the heady winds.

  The ship pulled away from the dock. The weakened ramp snapped in half, the Shesaitju upon it plummeting into the icy depths. A second later, the vessel jarred to a stop.

  “Sora,” Whitney shouted. “Forget them, get that rope!” He pointed to the single rope still attached to a cleat on the wharf. The Shesaitju must have untied the rest before they overtook them. Sora nodded her understanding. She panted as she slashed at it twice, sending two frayed ends into the wind. A Shesaitju dove toward the ship and grabbed onto the stern before his fingers met Sora’s knife.

  “Jolly fine departure everyone!” Whitney exclaimed.

  “Whit!” Sora screamed.

  Whitney turned quickly to face her as a sword swiped only inches from his head. He heard a hum, felt a sting, then blood sprayed in front of his face. He dropped to his knees and saw a Shesaitju behind him. His knee was a mangled mess, but he stood upright on his good leg. He didn’t get his sword back around before the dwarf finished the job, crushing his skull against the deck.

  “Whitney,” Sora said, running toward him “Are you okay?”

  “What?” He placed a hand on the side of his head. It was bleeding profusely, and his head rang.

  Tum Tum came around in front of him, holding the top half of Whitney’s ear. He lifted it to his mouth and shouted, “Can ye hear me?”

  Whitney ripped it out of his hands. He held it to the portion of ear still attached, and only when they touched did he realize how much it really stung.

  “My yigging ear!” he shouted.

  Sora knelt in front of him. She couldn’t mask her concern, but Aquira looked like she wanted to lick up the blood.

  “Is it bad?” Whitney said.

  “I’ve seen worse…” she lied.

  “Can you fix it?” he asked Sora, holding the ear up.

  “Not right now I don’t think.” She looked down at her bloody hand. “I think I’m completely drained.”

  “Well, you did just light half the city on fire...” His words trailed off. He looked back at Tum Tum, who not only had no idea she could do such magic, but it was his city that burned. If he took offense, he didn’t show it. The Black Sands had overtaken the place, regardless.

  “So ye be a mystic?” Tum Tum asked.

  Sora shrugged. “I’m something. We’re going to Yaolin City if we make it out of this bay alive.”

  “Hello!” Whitney interrupted. “My ear!”

  “Oh, quit whinin ye flower picker,” Tum Tum said. “It’s only a piece.” He slapped him in the side of the head. Whitney yelped.

  “Here.” Sora took the chunk of flesh from Whitney’s hands. Then she buried it in a bit of snow piled around the mast. “We’ll keep it fresh, and I’ll see if I can help after we have some rest.”

  “Sure, I’ll just sail around, earless,” Whitney said. He stood and drew a long breath of the chilly air.

  “You two dump these bodies off the ship. Tum, I’m guessing you’re okay with going to Yaolin? Otherwise, I can drop you off in the Boiling Waters.”

  The dwarf stood at the rail and stared longingly back at the wharf and his city, glowing red. “Aye. All I gots be gone anyway,” he said, sadness heavy in his voice.

  “Then I hope you’re ready for a fun ride.” Whitney grabbed hold of the wheel and spun it. The ship lurched and changed course.

  “How do you—” Sora began.

  “What part of ‘I sailed with Grisham “Gold Grin” Gale’ did I not make clear?”

  He knew she didn’t believe him about half the things he said he’d done—which was probably smart on her part—but this one was the cold, hard truth. He knew how to run a ship, though he was glad to have Tum Tum and Sora onboard to help with things. Who knows, maybe by the time they reached Yaolin City, Sora would be a right good sailor.

  First, they had to weave their way through a number of Shesaitju warships and rowboats. He hoped they were too preoccupied with their escape to worry about a small corsair vessel. Still, he kept their course southeast, so it seemed like they were Shesaitju soldiers part of the retreat. At his first opportunity, he could cut the sails to steer them behind the Breakwaters—a tight clumping of dagger-like stones sticking up from Trader's Bay.

  For a large ship, the boulders would be catastrophic, but this corsair would slip right into the strait with no difficulty. Then, it would be off toward the Boiling Waters on the fastest route to Panping.

  “We don’t want to be spotted, so everyone stay low,” Whitney said. “Or, well, Tum Tum, you can just stand.”

  “Very funny, one ear.”

  Whitney grinned and steadied the wheel, feeling the weight of the ship and waters fighting back. “I think we finally found my pirate name.”

  “Too bad you can’t grow a beard!” Sora hollered over from the other side of the deck.

  Whitney glared back at her, then smiled. He’d never been so happy to see someone sliding a body off the deck of a ship before. He’d never been so happy to see anyone.

  XXVIII

  THE MYSTIC

  “I must say, Sora,” Whitney began, “ever since you found me, these have been adventures for the record books. Of all that happene
d in that gods-forsaken city, being pivotal pieces in a battle for Pantego’s soul will be tough to top.”

  Whitney stared over the starboard side of the deck back to Winde Port. He barely paid attention to the wheel now that they were passed the retreating Shesaitju army and heading for the strait out of the bay. Tum Tum was busy angling the ship’s single, triangular sail to catch what little breeze there was. After that focused gust that fed Sora’s fire and felt so much like magic, the air was still. The water may as well have been frozen it was so flat, tiny ripples wiggling like glowing snakes under the light of the moons.

  “Clearly, I attract trouble,” Sora said.

  “And rebel afhems,” Whitney muttered.

  “I knew you were jealous!”

  “Just that I missed such an incredible display. I was worried you were too uptight to act.” Whitney flinched, clearly expecting her to punch him. When she didn’t, he turned and found Aquira leaning over the boom of the sail, glaring down at him. “We’re never going to be alone again, are we?”

  Sora reached up and stroked her new friend’s tail. “Nope. She’s part of this scoundreling crew.”

  “Going with scoundreling, then? Perfect.”

  For a short while, they quietly watched the retreat. The Shesaitju vessels were already unloading at the docks of a small village on the opposite side of the bay. Back in Winde Port, the Glass army celebrated victory. Or at least, that’s what the tiny, shiny dots flitting around the wharf looked like they were doing.

  “Do you think Torsten made it out?” Sora asked.

  “Of course, he’s too stubborn to die. Look.” Whitney pointed to the wharf. “That’s probably him right there. Of course, it is; no one else has such blinding armor at night. Happy to be of service again, Torsten!” He waved.

  “Why were you helping him, anyway?”

  “He was supposed to help me find you after Muskigo was eliminated. Clearly, since I found you well enough by myself, he still owes me one.”

  “That makes two of us. Did I mention I saved him and his men from an ambush in the estate when I started that fire?”

  “Yeah?”

  “They walked right into it.”

  Whitney sighed. “What is that man going to do without us?”

  “Probably lose a war.”

  “You’re right. We should go back.” He pretended to start spinning the wheel.

  “Whitney, stop!” Sora laughed.

  “What? You’re right, we can’t leave him behind. He needs us.”

  “Whit.” Her hand fell upon his, and they turned toward each other. She stared at him while he wore that same, goofy grin that hadn’t changed since he was a boy. He still couldn’t grow a beard, but for a runt from Troborough, he was handsome as a prince. The standards weren’t high. The only difference was one of his ears now had a chunk taken off.

  “I’m sorry,” they said at the same time.

  “For what?” they said at the same time again.

  They chuckled.

  “You first,” Whitney said.

  “No, you go ahead,” Sora replied. “I want to hear this.”

  Whitney stole a page out of Sora’s book and rolled his eyes.

  “Fine,” he began. “I’m sorry I let you get taken back at Tayvada’s place. I’m sorry for dragging you into this life. It’s not safe. It’s no place for a… lady.”

  “Hah! A lady? Don’t let my tattered clothes fool you. Plus, you didn’t let me be taken. You couldn’t have stopped that heinous creature even if you wanted to. He’s a yigging upyr, Whit. You know what tha—”

  Whitney held out an arm. He held his stomach like he was going to vomit. “Vampire,” Whitney said with a shudder.

  “Let me guess, you worked with them a few years back. Cue some ridiculous story.”

  “No, my dear, Sora. This one will be a first, and one I’m glad to be rid of. No wonder he avoided sunlight.”

  Sora nodded.

  “Yigging gods. If I knew that was what Barty sent after us maybe I would have killed the slob. He didn’t want to…”

  “Drink my blood?” Sora asked. “He did, but Aquira wouldn’t let him.”

  “Thank the fallen gods for her.”

  At the mention of her name, Aquira craned her neck down from the sail toward Sora.

  “You were scared, weren’t you?” Sora scratched the wyvern under her chin. Aquira’s wings expanded, and she stuck her head out, the thin flap of skin underneath stretching taut.

  “I’m sure it was only her,” Whitney remarked.

  Sora regarded him and her heart sunk. “I wanted to find you,” she said, not looking him in the eye. “But so much happened so fast. I was worried you died, then running from Kazimir, Muskigo, seeing my people. It all—”

  He placed a finger over her mouth. “Sora, you don’t have to explain a thing to me.” He craned his neck and gestured to the red mark ringing his neck. “The gods seem to want me alive no matter what. I think I might be invincible.”

  “By Iam, Whitney.” She pulled him closer and examined the dark red ring around his neck. “I didn’t notice that. It looks awful. Kazimir said you survived execution, but he didn’t say you were already strung up to die when you did. How did you get out of it?”

  “You’ve got magic, and I’ve got my own secrets.” He puffed out his chest and went to playfully run his hand through his hair. His finger grazed the sliced part of his ear, and he winced.

  “Smooth,” Sora chuckled. “We’re going to have to do something about that soon. It’s going to get infected.” She reached up toward it. Her thumb hit a piece of his hair, and a thick, wet paste rubbed off. “Ick! Is that, shog?”

  “Long story,” Whitney said.

  “Oh, c’mon, I finally want to hear a story and you’re holding out?” When she looked down, she realized how close to him she’d gotten to examine his wounds. She could feel the warmth of his breath. They locked eyes, and on his face, he wore an expression unlike any she’d ever seen him wearing. Her heart started to race, and she didn’t know why.

  He smiled, but he didn’t back away—not even as Aquira growled from up above. Instead, she could feel him slowly growing closer. “Well, we do have plenty of time,” he said softly.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said a voice from behind them, accent thick as blood.

  Sora and Whitney fell apart from each other and whipped around. Kazimir emerged from the shadows of the open captain’s quarters. He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

  “Did you think I would so easily allow you to leave?” he asked. “After all we’ve been through together?”

  “Who the yig be that!” Tum Tum shouted from the bow.

  Aquira flew down to Sora’s shoulder and growled. Sora raised her hand. It was still bleeding, but she couldn’t feel an ounce of that dark power roiling within her. No matter how she willed on Elsewhere, she felt… empty within.

  Whitney’s arm extended in front of her as he stepped forward. “No need to burn down the ship.” He reached into his pocket and removed a roll.

  “Kazimir,” he began in diplomatic fashion, “I have a writ signed by Yuri Darkings himself. You are released from your blood pact with Bartholomew Darkings, so we can just all move on.”

  In the span of a second, Whitney was on his back, and Kazimir straddled him like a mare. Whitney turned away from the man and clenched his eyes tightly. But still, he held up the paper. “You wouldn’t want to upset your bosses,” he said. “The Master of Coin could be a powerful ally.”

  “Not a soul will know what happens here.”

  “Your Sanguine Gods will,” Whitney grated.

  “Lords. And they know that a pact cannot be rescinded. Not even by a king, let alone some Council member. This paper is as worthless as you are.” Kazimir ripped it from his hands. His nightmarish grin widened as he released it to the wind.

  “Damn that family,” Whitney swore under his breath.

  “I don’t understand, Whit,” Sora s
aid. “You said the pact was ended.” Her voice shook. Even having Aquira on her shoulder, ready to fiercely protect her, didn’t make her feel brave. All she could do was stare at those terrible, soulless eyes, frozen.

  “Clearly, father Darkings lied so I wouldn’t kill his son. I knew I should have gone with my gut.”

  Sora’s stomach went tight. She knew precisely why Whitney didn’t go with his gut. Why he delved back in the city, helped Torsten... everything. For her.

  “This is no longer about you, thief,” Kazimir snapped. “In time, Bartholomew Darkings will pay for his attempted retraction with his own blood. But I’m here for her.”

  He regarded Sora, breathed in deep, and released a moan. The way his lower lip trembled made Sora’s skin crawl.

  “Yes,” he said, a twinge of ecstasy lacing the word. “Cut, dash, slice, rend. The smell alone gives me a strength I haven’t felt in years.”

  He leaned down and spoke softly in Whitney’s ear—something Sora couldn’t hear. Whitney’s face lost its color, and he stopped fighting like he was petrified into stone by the gorgons of legend.

  “I suggest ye get off him and off our ship,” Tum Tum demanded. He stood beside Sora now, hammer in hand.

  Kazimir rose but kept a boot on Whitney’s chest.

  “My ship actually,” he said. “An entire night wasted hunting the two of you, and you come right to me.” He laughed, then looked back at Sora. “It’s almost as if our union were destiny.”

  “Even still, yer outnumbered. Leave, or I’ll make ye.”

  “Remain where you are, Dwarf! We have no quarrel, and that fact need not change. Besides, do you think your lumbering body is any match for me?”

  Again, before Sora could blink, Kazimir changed locations. Aquira hissed and went to bite him, but he slapped the poor wyvern aside and sent her into the wall of the ship.

  “Aquira!” Sora gasped.

  The wyvern groaned but was still breathing. Sora tried to run to her, but Kazimir wrapped her midriff in a soft caress with one hand and placed the other against her neck.

  “Take your hands off me!” she screamed, squirming, but it was no use. He was too strong.