Adventures of Captain Xdey (15 page)

The gnome adjusted his glasses with a toothy grin. “You have no idea how long we have been waiting.” They all placed fingers on triggers. “Life or death, Councilman Silyas.”

She could feel his hand drenched with sweat. She wanted nothing more than to wipe it off. He shoved her forward. One of the gnomes grabbed her hand and led her through the group. She sat down on the booth’s table. Silyas held up his hands. “I gave you what you wanted. Now you’ll let us go.”

Xoey leaned down to the one who escorted her. “Who is that?” She pointed to the gnome who was talking.

The burnt-orange gnome stifled a laugh. “Our leader, Gaim.”

She blinked. “I thought that was Ferr.”

He shook his head. “Being the eldest doesn’t make one a leader. Ferr retired many moons ago.”

Gaim shrugged. “Silyas, I have to apologize, but you are mistaken. I never said anything about letting you go.”

Silyas’ cheeks reddened with anger “You cannot do this! Nix will destroy you all.”

“Not quite. We hold all of the weapons.”

Gaim weighed the movements of the councilman. “Xoey,” he said, “you may wish to turn around.”

She watched the crowd of gnomes move in and around Silyas. Only one raised a weapon fashioned of bronze and copper with a beautiful red jeweled hilt. Silyas collapsed after one shot. His hand clutched to his chest as the other gripped his lapel with the gear pin fashioned to it. All she could think when the blood seeped into the stained slotted drain was that she was thankful that they incapacitated him quickly. Gaim adjusted his spectacles with an order to remove the body. He approached her with a polite smile. “I am sorry you had to witness such an unfortunate event.”

“I’ve seen worse,” said Xoey. “It’s all right.”

They walked side-by-side into Lesria’s house. The vanilla-colored gnome looked at Xoey with sadness. “I’m sorry.”

A white sheet had been pulled over Nadine’s body. Xoey’s heart dropped. Each step she took toward the table felt heavier than the next. “No.” Xoey pulled back the sheet to see Nadine’s pale face. Her lips had blued significantly. Gaim and Lesria stepped back to let the pirate mourn. Xoey slammed her hand on the table. “No!” she cried. Tears streamed down Xoey’s face. She could feel her knees weaken. She clutched onto Nadine’s cold hand. The shell embedded into Nadine’s palm, however, radiated with warmth.

Her body wanted to acknowledge the death, but Xoey’s stubborn mind refused. She pressed herself back up. “I have to find Mal. He’s the only one who can bring her back.”

Lesria dismissed the notion. “Xoey, it’s been too long.”

“Just keep her warm. I’ll find Mal.”

Gaim nodded to Lesria. “Sometimes we must have a leap of faith. Go on, Xoey. We’ll watch over her.”

Chapter Twelve

Mal huffed in the cramped quarters of the flying cargo hold. It was designed for merchant trade. A small engine buzzed underneath the deck loaded with crates. He felt it was a miracle it could fly. Decyl’s eyes glowed with glee at all of the undiscovered wonders the boxes contained.

Mal watched as the gnome carefully pried open the end of a box and stuck his entire head inside. He pulled his large head back out with trouble, as apparently he couldn’t reverse. Pieces of foam clung tightly to his fur. Mal stifled a chuckle. He needed the laugh. All that was running through his head was whether or not his family was alive. Decyl tossed Mal a piece of jerky. “There’s more food in one of these crates and with this nose,” he tapped his snout, “I’ll find it.”

“Isn’t that stealing?”

“Borrowing. I’ll repay the man.”

The man happened to be Guire. He’d willingly loaned the cargo ship in exchange for taking the merchandise to Under City. They had a long trip ahead of them.

The cargo ship chugged on. Mal yawned. Decyl’s klepto tactics weren’t entertaining anymore. He was glad that he was no longer starving, but now he was bored, tired, and desperate to find somewhere to sleep that didn’t involve Decyl within his line of sight.
A thunderous boom resounded above them. Decyl climbed out of a crate, ears perked to the sky. His large black orbs looked up. The mustache twitched curiously. The pure white clouds kept still as something fell. Mal stood up. “What is that?”

The heap of grey was falling directly above the ship. Mal swore he saw a head, two arms and two legs. “Decyl…is that a person?”

Decyl stood at the edge of the port side. He pushed a crate forward, pulled off the top, and inched it over with his leg. “Whatever it is, this will break the fall.”

“I don’t know,” said Mal. “It doesn’t seem to be…”

The object fell into the crate. Styrofoam pieces exploded up and rained down upon the deck. Whatever it was bounced up out of the crate and back down again. Mal and Decyl peered into the box. “What is it?” he whispered. Decyl shrugged.

“I see a leg and a jumper boot.” The shoe twitched, disappearing under the rest of the Styrofoam. A muffled moan followed by movement inside the box. A boy shuffled out from the packing foam. He couldn’t have been older than nine. Mal looked up at the clouds and then back down at the gray-eyed boy. The boy didn’t say anything. He was pale, small, and dressed in a variety of mismatched clothes. His black hair stood straight up, but Mal guessed it wasn’t normally like that. He did fall from mid-air. Decyl kept a paw on his gun, uncertain of why or how this boy survived. “Who are you?”

The boy scratched his dirty cheek. “Name is Hiddle.”

“Hiddle,” Mal responded. “How…err…where did you come from?”

Hiddle tilted his head back, squinting into the sun’s rays. “Apparently Gesler doesn’t like stowaways.”

Mal gulped. “You mean Gesler is up there?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah, Dad is up there illegally. Ain’t supposed to be up that high.”

Decyl rested back on his tail. In his four paws, he held guns aimed directly at Hiddle. “Gesler is your dad?”

“You can’t just go shooting kids!” Mal waved his arms frantically and stepped between the very armed gnome and the small kid.

Decyl quirked his furry head. “And why not?”

“Because it’s not right to just shoot and ask questions later. His father threw him overboard!”

Unimpressed, Decyl yawned a toothy yawn. “Did you ask him what he did to deserve to be thrown over the side? He could be worse than his father, rotten to the core.”

Hiddle pointed at the blue button on the side of Decyl’s right gun. “What does that do?”

“Press it and see.” Decyl grinned.

Mal pushed Hiddle’s curious hand away. “Where is Xoey when you need her?”

The boy’s eyes widened in anticipation. “Xoey. Oh, I want to meet her! Where is she?”

“No can do,” the gnome growled. “Why were you thrown overboard?”

Something above them clanked. Mal pushed the barrels of the weapons to the floor. “Why do you want to meet Xoey?”

Hiddle loosed an exaggerated sigh, hoping for something else besides conversation. He groaned at their curious glances. He explained, “So, Gesler is my dad. He’s not a nice man since the war, but he’s still my dad. He has the Tinkertons up there to capture the Djinn or something. I think he’s bonkers because no one can see the creatures. I was thrown over the side because I was trying to help the Tinkertons.”

The guns pointed once again at Hiddle. “I don’t believe him.”

Mal rubbed his temple. “Decyl, let’s get this ship above the clouds.”

Hiddle grabbed Mal’s suspenders. “You don’t want to do that.”

Mal pulled Hiddle’s head close to his. “Why not?”

“Nix’s ship is going to swallow that one whole. If you’re spotted, they’ll shoot this vessel down.”

Decyl looked down at him impassively. “We can always finish Gesler’s job.”

Mal shot a glance back at Decyl. “We need to rescue my parents.”

“You’re a Tinkerton! My day just keeps getting better.”

“He is blind as a rat,” Decyl said, pointing his ears to the guns.

Hiddle attempted to flatten his hair. “Rats aren’t blind. Everyone knows that.”

The flying cargo ship’s height was controlled by a lever. Zero was an indicator that it was on the ground and a thousand was up past the clouds, or so he surmised as the lever rested next to seven hundred. Hiddle whistled behind him. “Not a good idea.”

Mal pushed up the lever. The engine sputtered for a split second—a second that was long enough to make all three hearts jump. The ship hummed and forced itself above the clouds. Mal groaned, knowing it was illegal to soar at this height. Mal guided the ship next to the foremast. He stopped himself from screaming at the sight of his dad standing on the foredeck. The last thing they needed was the attention of Gesler, who was, at least, ten paces behind Roe. Decyl twitched his little mustache at the sight of the man with a cane. Gesler was notorious for being a marvelous tactician, but his cruelty knew no bounds. He expected his son to be a little less happy.

From his pocket, Mal retrieved a small mirror. He shone the reflecting light onto Roe’s face. They watched as Roe peered over the forecastle deck. Mal waved and whispered, “We’re here to rescue you.”

“Where is Nadine?”

“She’s with Xoey. Come on.” The ship sputtered.

Roe glanced over his shoulder. “I can’t leave your mother. Find us in—” His words were lost to the wind. The cargo ship powered down. Roe reached out. “No!”

Mal’s fingers grazed along his father’s, but as the ship plummeted down to the earth, so did they. Decyl held fast to his guns as the ship dropped. His jowls flapped in the wind. With one free claw, he managed to pull the goggles over his eyes. Mal crouched down, attempting to center himself and not lose what small bits of meat were left in his stomach. Hiddle was the only one who looked insane enough to be having fun. His little arms waved in the air and he had a big grin on his face.

Next to the lever, Mal remembered seeing the parachute button. The problem was he was too far from it to press it and it was at the edge of the ship, near the gusting wind. It was a long crawl to press the button, and he hoped the velocity of the ship didn’t mess it up. Mal gulped as he moved, and every inch he crawled, his stomach bubbled in protest.

He ended up next to the button and as the wind pulled him upside down, he managed to grab the lever. His finger repeatedly pressed the button. His hands had gotten sweaty which wasn’t a good thing when holding on for dear life. Large red balloons tied to thick ropes sprung up and around the ship, slowing the cargo hold down. Mal dropped back down to the platform with a huge sigh. Another few minutes and they would have been among the wreckage down below.

As soon as the ship touched the ground, Decyl kissed the dirt. Hiddle pulled out of the excitement and offered a hand to help Mal up. Mal crumbled out of the ball. He stomped off the ship with a growl. “We were this close!” He picked up a rock and threw it into the thick dark swamp. “Now we will never know what my dad was going to say!” Decyl wiped his sand-riddled mouth and paused at the sight of the swamp,

“Mal, that’s not such a good idea.” He grabbed Hiddle by the suspenders and pulled him back.

“Hey!” Hiddle protested.

Mal kicked the dirt. “It’s not a good idea…” he taunted Decyl. “So?”

Decyl narrowed his beady eyes. “I’m serious, Mal.”

Mal picked up a rock and defiantly dropped it in the swamp. “It’s not like our day is going to get any worse.” The dark water, thick as molasses, gargled in the distance. Mal tensed, but tried to shrug it away. “Just the rock.”

Decyl tugged Mal by the arm. “Whatever you do, don’t fall for its tricks.”

Hiddle walked along the edge of the swamp. “Oh my gosh, guys. There’s a baby in there.” The sound of a baby crying could be heard in the distance.

The gnome groaned. “It’s a trick, Hiddle. Get away from there.”

A decaying hand with bits of crackled flesh reached out of the dark ominous swamp and grabbed Hiddle’s leg. He screamed. “Get it off!”

Mal grabbed Hiddle’s hands. Whatever was on the other end was stronger. Decyl fired a shot but the thing held on and pulled Hiddle under. Hiddle’s hands slipped out of Mal’s grasp.

“No!”

Decyl couldn’t fire a shot at the risk of hitting Hiddle. He handed a gun to Mal. “Stay here.”

The gnome jumped into the water, leaving Mal alone to fend off the unseen.

“Hello, Mal,” a soft voice said behind him. Mal placed his finger on the trigger. “There’s no need for violence.”

He turned around to see a beautiful woman in a long flowing white gown. It swayed without wind to guide it. There was an unearthly glow to her green eyes.

“Let my friends go.”

She tilted her head at his command. “So demanding. Whatever will you do for me in return, Mal Tinkerton?”

“What do you want?”

Without a sound, she moved toward him with incredible speed. He didn’t have a chance to react as her hand closed around his throat. Her long gaunt fingers clutched tightly and with strength, she picked him up. She laughed in his face as he struggled to speak, to yell, to do anything but wiggle like a worm on a hook.

Mal kicked with all of his might. His hand desperately struggled to find the trigger of the gun, and when all seemed to be without hope, he fired a shot in her chest. The rod shot through and split inside. The creature bellowed a deafening scream and dropped Mal. He held fast to the gun. “Let them go!”

She tugged at the chain with a laugh. Her eyes darkened into black orbs. Black ooze bubbled out her mouth. “Why would I do that? They are dinner. It has been a long time since I have had a good meal.” She looked up, narrowed her gaze, and disappeared.

“No!” Mal screamed. “Give them back!”

A familiar voice radiated from above. “Not to worry, Mal. We have them.” He looked up to see Isena and Ferr up on the ramp of a very large ship. “While you were keeping the Tylea occupied, we were able to rescue Decyl and Hiddle.” Isena offered her hand. “Come aboard.”

He had heard stories of the Tylea. They were the sisters of Sirens and Mermen, mischievous creatures with one and only one desire, to cause panic and confusion to trap their prize. “What number am I thinking?”

“We don’t have time for your games, lad. We must move.”

He stood his ground and puffed out his chest. “I don’t believe you.”

Isena leaned further off the ramp. “Mal.”

“I don’t believe you!” he screamed with conviction. When he opened his eyes, the ship was nowhere to be seen. What was even more disturbing, the swamp had vanished as well. The remains of the crates were still strewn about in the grass around him.

Tired of the illusions, he ran to the scattered items, searching for anything to cover his eyes and ears. If he couldn’t see or hear her, she couldn’t win. Content with a jar of wax and linen, Mal lay down as he tediously prepped the items. He tore the bits of linen to protect his eyes and ears and then covered the cloth with the wax.

The silence and the darkness settled around him. The little hairs on the back of his neck rose. He didn’t need to see to know something loomed over him. He clenched his teeth to prevent anything from escaping. A clawed hand, at least in his mind, grabbed his leg and pulled him a foot or so. Mal covered his mouth. He wasn’t going to give in. It was the only way to save his friends.