by David Angelo
Suddenly, a sharp crack ripped through the campsite. Startled, Fin bit into his tongue deep enough to draw blood.
“Damn!” Fin snapped as he looked in the direction of the blast. It was then when he saw the barrel of a pistol poking through the slit in Chok’s tent flap. It was aimed at Rocklier, who was shaken but still alive and with no sign of injury. In fact, no one present at the campfire was hurt, and the only sign of damage appeared to be to Rocklier’s goblet, which was lying on the ground with a clear bullet hole running through.
“I’d be a little more careful ’bout what you say if I were you,” Chok said from the inside of his tent. “Next time, I might not be so careful.” The pistol disappeared through the flap.
“Are you nuts, Chok?” Black-Tooth said. “And where on Edon did you get that pistol?”
“I pickpocketed it off a policeman,” Chok said, “when I was in Notnedo this afternoon. Them village guards are really bad about securing it tightly enough to their person.”
“Chok, you could’ve killed someone,” Black-Tooth replied. “And also, you know damn well that those peashooters will never be part of our arsenal.”
“I take it you haven’t seen his latest invention,” Kaw-Ki said.
“What is it?” Black-Tooth asked.
“He calls it an ax cannon,” Kaw-Ki replied. “It’s a large-caliber musket with the blade of an ax welded to the bottom. It’s just as dumb as it sounds, and even more dangerous.”
For a second Rocklier looked like he was prone to get up, run into Chok’s tent, and give him a taste of his own medicine. But instead he simply took a deep breath and stood up. “Good luck with that, Black-Tooth,” he said. “Tell me how that conversation went in the morning.” Then, in a hushed tone, so that only those at the campfire could hear, he added, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to sleep with a dagger under my pillow, in case Mr. Murder Fetish over there decides to pay me a visit.”
Rocklier vanished behind the flap of his tent, leaving Fin and the rest of his comrades to soak up the last rays of heat from the smoldering coals.
“So, anyway,” Kyu said, “you excited about flying tomorrow, Fin?”
“Perhaps…” Fin said, a little uneasy about doing something so dangerous or unusual.
“Don’t sweat it,” Kyu replied with a laugh. “Your wing will be tied to mine. I won’t let you free-fly until I think you’re ready.”
“Thanks,” Fin said, relieved.
“Trust me,” Kyu said with a grin, “you’ll be fine.”
19
THE NEXT MORNING FIN found Kyu tinkering away at two of the dragon wings, near the center of the Fist. As he approached, fine details in the wings began to emerge, revealing just how complex these things were. The wings were much larger up close than they were from afar, about three hundred feet across. Black fabric was stretched over a large wooden frame, which resembled a skeletal structure when viewed from up close. They were in the shape of a triangle, with a metal point at the nose to help it cut through the air. Beneath their fabric hide, supported by thin wooden beams, there hung a leather sling, where the pilot would lie during flight. A series of levers for steering and a rack for bombs were placed in front of the flier’s perch. Racks for weapons were set along either side and looked sturdy enough to carry longbows, swords, or even a gun. A single blade, about four feet in length, was positioned at the rear and connected to a small black box. Both wings were held down by weights, and each sat atop a pair of wooden skids. They sat side by side, a long rope connecting them from wingtip to wingtip.
When Kyu saw Fin standing nearby, she looked up from what she was doing and wiped her hands off on a nearby rag. “Good morning,” she said. “Don’t bother shaking my hand; they’re covered in grease.”
Fin could see that the grease had turned her normally orange hands a shade of shiny black, like shoe polish. “What were you doing that required you to get your hands so dirty?” he asked.
“I wanted to do a preflight check,” Kyu said, “just to make sure everything in the combustion box was working.” She motioned for Fin to join her. “Come on, I’ll show you how it works.”
Fin walked over and examined the small contraption that Kyu called a combustion box. It did not look any less complicated up close. The box was about the size of a stool top, was made of cheap metal, and hung from the roof of the wing’s rear. A wooden pole, which controlled the blade, linked up to the back of the box through a round metal tube. Valves, pistons, and other odd gizmos were attached to the top, sides, and bottom, and the box itself was attached to a long, slender pipe. The pipe ended with a large, bulbous tank that sat near the front of the wing.
“To get this sucker flying,” Kyu said, “just pull on this lever here.” She turned a small lever on one of the pipes, near the nose of the craft. A noise like water rushing could be heard from within the pipe. “That releases the fuel, which goes to the combustion box, which rotates the propeller, and so on and so forth. Then, after enough fuel gets inside, you pull this crank here.”
Kyu tugged on a long, winding cord that hung from the glider’s roof. There was a metallic pop, which made Fin jump, and a bit of black smoke rose from the top of the box. A second pop followed, and soon the combustion box was rumbling to life. Kyu pulled on the end of the blade, and it began to rotate, faster and faster, until the wind it generated nearly knocked Fin off his feet. It fought against the weights on the skids, struggling to get up into the sky, but the craft remained stationary. It grew so loud that Kyu was forced to yell over the sound of the rotating blade.
“The combustion box is designed to run on any liquid with flammable qualities,” she said. “Right now, it’s running on rendered animal fat, which we got from a butcher shop not long ago.”
“Like lard?” Fin asked.
“Exactly,” Kyu replied. “It can also run on whale oil, but we don’t always have the amount of resources necessary to get that. So we have to make do with what we can find.” Kyu slowly pulled the lever back; the engine shut off, and the propeller slowly came to a halt. “To turn it off,” she said, “just cut the fuel line. But when you’re doing it in flight, keep in mind that you need to do it slowly so the combustion box can calmly come to a stop. Don’t pull it hard, or else you’ll drop out of the sky like a rock.”
Fin was amazed by what he saw. He looked upon the dragon wing with eyes of wonder, admiring the craftsmanship. The combustion box in particular excited him. “How did you come up with such an idea?” he asked.
“I didn’t,” Kyu replied. “A lot of it was my older brother’s idea. He was an inventor of a great many things designed to make dragon life easier. But it was the idea of achieving flight that tickled him the most. He was obsessed with the concept of dragons taking the sky back, just like our creators thousands of years ago, and it was an obsession that consumed most of his life.”
“Your brother is a genius,” Fin said.
“He wouldn’t agree,” Kyu said. “If he were alive today, he would give me and my sister most of the credit. My brother died before he could complete his first prototype. After that, my sister and I took it upon ourselves to develop the dragon wing using his original blueprints. I then added the combustion box, which was based on an idea of his, and after years of trial and error, my brother’s dream finally became a reality. It was not long after that Black-Tooth saw it for himself.”
“Chok mentioned that at the campfire,” Fin said. “Something about a backwater fair?”
“We were actually trying to sell the patent,” Kyu said. “While everyone we showed it to enjoyed the idea, most people only saw it as a cute little novelty and nothing else. Black-Tooth was the only one who saw the practicality in the dragon wing’s design and was the first to offer us any money for it. In the end his offer was less than what my sister and I were asking, but Black-Tooth won me over with his plans for the resistance, the Dragon Storm, the prophet, and whatnot. So in the end, the transaction was made, and I joined the resistanc
e.”
“What about your sister?” Fin asked. “Did she join as well?”
“No,” Kyu said, “unfortunately. She objected to the whole deal, thinking that it was a risky endeavor that could never pay off. But I had more control over our business dealings, and the blueprints were sold to Black-Tooth regardless of her say. Years later, though, I used to wonder if she had a point all along.”
“What do you mean?”
“Turns out,” Kyu said, “my sister was right about a lot of things. She was right about the resistance’s momentum dying down and about Chok not being a good mate and how I wasn’t ready to be a mother and so on. Back then, I just figured that she was irate about not having control over the acquisition. But it turns out she wasn’t as dim as I thought she was. She was wrong about one thing, though.” Kyu turned to Fin and smiled. “The prophet did come. I’d like to see the look on her face if you ever happen to show her your burn. Maybe that’ll convince her to give Arch back.”
Fin opened his mouth, as if to say something, but he froze in place like a statue. He recalled the touchy conversation of the night before and felt saying anything now would only conjure harsh words and hurt feelings. Thankfully, Kyu was not on the subject for long.
“So, you ready to go flying?” she asked.
“If I must,” Fin replied.
“You’ll be fine,” Kyu said. “Just don’t do anything stupid, and you’ll stay in one piece.”
Fin’s first flight lasted a little over five minutes. Upon taking his position at the controls, he knew he was in for a tough ride. He did just as Kyu had instructed: turn the gas valve, pull the cord, release the weights from the bottom of the craft. Things were smooth at first as the two wings slid across the ground on their skids. They drove around the entire circumference of the Fist, and for a moment, Fin’s apprehension had gone away. But then Kyu led Fin to a makeshift ramp in the center of the Fist, which she used to drive up and into the sky. Fin, who was still tied to Kyu’s wing, was pulled along, and for the first time in his life, he experienced the sensation of flying. A rush of butterflies flew into Fin’s gut as the wing became airborne. Instinctively, he shut his eyes, and when they opened again, he and Kyu were flying over an expanse of snowcapped trees. It was one of the most breathtaking scenes Fin had ever beheld, and he felt as if he were in a dream, watching Edon flow beneath him.
Kyu and Fin killed the fuel line, and within seconds, they were gliding on air. It was so quiet up there, with nothing but the wind to accompany them. It was also unbearably cold, and Fin even swore he saw ice form on the wings of his glider. But none of this seemed to affect Kyu in the slightest.
“During the warmer months,” she called from her glider, “I usually have a tank full of water that drains into the combustion box.”
Fin nodded.
“But it’s so damn cold out,” Kyu continued, “that I don’t think it’s all that necessary.”
Fin nodded again, and Kyu continued talking.
“Some dragons like to wear wool and leather parkas when they go flying in the colder months. I don’t like them all that much, since they’re kind of scratchy and tend to make me feel quite hot. What about you? How do you feel right about now?”
“I’m going to be sick,” Fin said.
“What’s that?” Kyu asked. “You’re not talking loud enough.”
“I’m going to be sick!” Fin gasped. Deep within the pit of his stomach, last night’s boar was churning in a molten mass of ick that was threatening to come back up. Fin hardly opened his mouth, lest he vomit all over the intricate instruments of the dragon wing.
“In that case,” Kyu said, “we should land. No need to turn on the combustion boxes; just follow my lead.”
The descent was slow but jarring. After making their way back to the Fist, Fin and Kyu came down in a corkscrew rotation to kill their speed. It seemed like an eternity before the skids finally slid across the smooth, green grass of the Fist and came to a halt next to the ramp. The dragon wing had hardly had time to stop before Fin jumped out of the driver’s seat and ran into the woods.
When Fin emerged, he was pale as a sheet and felt as though he had lost several pounds. He could still taste the pork from last night on his tongue, and his stomach churned as he made his way back to the parked wings. Kyu was standing nearby, looking worried and clutching a canteen full of water. She handed it to Fin when he approached.
“Bless your heart,” Fin said, before taking a long, refreshing sip.
“Easy there,” Kyu said. “You don’t want to drink too much at once, or else you’ll barf that up too.”
Fin stopped drinking and looked up. “I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “I just couldn’t take it any longer.”
“It’s no biggie,” Kyu said. “Everyone reacts to their first flight in different ways. Some get sick; others have panic attacks. I know one guy who fainted in midair, and I had to land him and his glider all by myself.”
“At least that didn’t happen to me,” Fin said. “Anyway, you want me to go back up there?”
“From the looks of it,” Kyu said, “I think you’ve had enough.”
“I think so too,” Fin said. He sat down near the wing and took another sip. “Thanks for being so patient with me.”
“Like I said before,” Kyu replied, “it’s no biggie. I’ve taught many dragons how to fly, and it’s something I’ve taken a lot of pride in doing.”
“How many have you taught?” Fin asked.
Kyu sat down next to him. “About two dozen,” she said. “That was about the size of our air corps, back before we disbanded. I trained every single one of those pilots.” Kyu looked over at the wings and smiled. “Come to think of it, I miss those days. Most dragons these days aren’t keen on flying, so the air corps was never all that big. Therefore, we used to think that we were made of tougher stuff, a cut above the rest of our comrades, if you will. It used to drive Chok crazy, because, as you probably know from dinner last evening, he isn’t too keen on flying.”
“Why is that?” Fin asked curiously.
“Because it makes him feel mortal,” Kyu said. “That’s the one thing I could never stand about Chok. He sees himself as the ultimate symbol of Edonion masculinity, but he’s too ashamed to admit that he has fears just like you and me, and one of those fears just so happens to be flight. It’s one of the reasons why we broke up—not because he was afraid of flight, but because he wasn’t honest.” Kyu turned to Fin. “A little word to the wise: no matter what you may hear or think, honesty is something that every woman wants—more than jewelry and flowers—even if it’s something that she doesn’t want to hear. There’s nothing worse than having a big box of lies and secrets for a mate. Trust me on that one; I lived with a pack of lies for almost six years.”
Fin nodded. “You know,” he said, “I think I saw that in Chok the other day, when we were riding to the Fist.”
“Let me guess,” Kyu said. “He blew you off when you started asking about his escape from the plantation.”
“Yeah,” Fin said with a nod. “How’d you guess?” He put the canteen to his lips and began to sip.
“Because Chok does that to everybody,” Kyu said. “He doesn’t want you to know, at least not now, that he murdered the head of the plantation.”
When the word murdered entered his ears, Fin choked a little on his mouthful of water. “What?” he asked.
“He told me it was an accident,” Kyu continued. “Oh, sure, like he didn’t mean to chuck a bomb full of nails into his master’s bedroom, knowing damn well that he was there and defenseless. I never bought that story, and I always figured it was Chok’s way of exacting revenge for his brother.”
“What happened to him?” Fin asked, afraid of what he might hear.
“His older brother was…” Kyu said with a grimace. “Well…I don’t think he’d want me to tell you. It’s kind of graphic, and very personal.”
Fin sighed, relieved that his ears would be spared gruesom
e details. “At least he was honest about that,” he said.
“True,” Kyu said. “But there are still some things that he has yet to reveal, to me or to anyone else. I tried to pry them out, but to no avail. All I know is that something horrible happened to him, long before he fled the plantation, long before Triticon, and it still continues to affect him.”
“Have you tried seeing if Kemp can do a mind scan on him?” Fin asked.
“It’s no use,” Kyu replied. “During our breakup, we told Kemp not to scan either of our minds, in order to keep the details of our breakup private. It worked in our best interest, but I still thought of asking, from time to time, not because I’m nosy, but because I still care about him, and I don’t want him to feel as if he needs to bury his feelings deep within his being.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a horse snorting only a few feet from where they sat. Fin looked up and saw Chok mounted on a brown stallion, looking at him and Kyu with his arms crossed, a curious look on his face.
“You talkin’ ’bout me?” Chok asked.
“It’s none of your business,” Kyu replied.
“The heck it ain’t!” Chok said. “I just heard you mention that little secret of mine that I don’t want you to know.”
“You ready to cough it up?” Kyu asked.
“I’ll tell you after I’m dead,” Chok said, “and you’ll be the first to know.”
Kyu rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere right now?”
“Yeah,” Chok replied, “but I’m not supposed to be there till the afternoon, and it’s still mornin’. Besides, I think I pissed Alto off yesterday when I came early.”
“That’s typical,” Fin said. “Alto hates it when people come in before business hours.”
Kyu poked Fin in the ribs with her elbow. “You’re not helping,” she whispered. “I’m trying to get rid of him, not keep him here.”