Phoenix Rising (Dragon Legacy) (12 page)

Eli ducked a few haymakers, but got knocked in the shoulder a few times before he made it out the front door. He heard sirens approaching, and made a quick turn down the sidewalk just in time to avoid the patrol sweeping in through the front to quell the fray. He pulled his coat collar up against the cold night air, and made his way back to the dock where Slowpoke was harbored.

He clucked his tongue, realizing Slowpoke would need some upgrades, and soon. He'd have to check in with an old friend about what they could do there. He'd had to hustle more recently, and he predicted that doing business was about to get even more complicated in the near future.

“How’s that maintenance coming along, Skippy?” he checked in over his earbud.

“B-deep!” the little airbot replied.

“Good, cause we gotta hit the stars as soon as I get back. That cargo's due at Kirlian's Rest by tomorrow, or we're gonna have a mark on us.” Over his earbud, he heard a loud crashing noise, and Skippy buzzed apologetically before cutting the signal. Times were about to get rough, so there wasn't room or time for anything other than their best efforts. “One day at a time,” he muttered, walking deeper into the night.

13

Mama Teke leaned on the safety rail and watched her grandson walking down the terminal toward her. When he saw her, his face erupted in a smile and he ran toward her, yelling, “Bado kuimba!” until she held him tight in her big soft arms, the waters of joy falling down her deeply etched face.

“Mtumba!” Mama Teke cried. She was so happy to see him! She gave a silent song of thanks for his safe return, and kissed him gently on the forehead. Her son Kel had joined her when his dock shift ended, and was singing the kusafiri sala, the travelers' prayer song. She and Mtumba joined in the song for a moment, and then pulled apart from one another, laughing.

Right now life didn't seem so broken as it had several weeks ago, and Mama Teke held that feeling there in her heart, reminding herself that sometimes things do change for the better. So easy to forget that, she smiled. She leaned down and spoke to her grandson, her long-nailed hand resting on his young shoulder.

“You, my boy, you have a lot to tell me, no?” she smiled, and Mtumba nodded, eyes wide.

“You won't believe me, Mama Teke,” he said, then noticed his friends were standing next to him. The girl coughed discreetly, and spoke.

“Mtumba?”

Her grandson looked flustered for just an instant, then caught his footing and introduced them both to her and Kel. As he did, she noticed something about the boy, Rok, and it surprised her.

The boy's life-song was strange and loud. Very loud, almost like it was overpowering the songs around him, but somehow it didn't. Instead, it seemed to make them stronger, too. Like his very presence was knitting things back together that she hadn't even known were broken, before. She shook her head. It reminded her of the stories she'd heard about the maisha ya wimbo, the ancient life-giving song. Could that even be possible?

“Mama?” Kel asked, worry in his voice. “You all right? You been standin' there for a long time.”

Mtumba looked concerned too, so she spoke, waving off Kel's question with a puckered frown. “Oh, I'm fine, Kel. Just an old woman lost in her thoughts, is all. Let's get back home,” she said, glancing at Rok, and blinked. “You an' I gonna talk, later,” she informed him, and he smiled.

Then she took Kel's arm, and they walked back to the tram, Mtumba telling her all about how they escaped the doomed ship, the horrible monsters in the cave, and meeting the High King John Phoenix. She listened attentively, nodding and smiling at his amazing story, but part of her deep down realized with sentimental regret that Mtumba's adventure was clearly just beginning. He had already begun the hard journey toward becoming an adult.

Mama Teke let out a weary sigh. How fast the years would pass for him. How quick all children seemed to grow up. If only they could stay like they were for a bit more. If only they could be spared a little longer from the pain of war and poverty and sickness and death. However, for all its size and grandeur, for all its miracles and beauty, this universe was surprisingly short on time for the protection of innocence. Knowledge, she knew, always had its price. She just hoped it wouldn't hurt him too much.

Mtumba gave her a beaming smile from across the tram, and she wondered if he somehow knew what she was thinking. No, she laughed. He's just happy to be here with family, and so am I. She closed her eyes and leaned against the window, letting herself drift off for the rest of the ride home.

Quinn was unprepared for fatherhood, but was doing his best to make up for the lost time with his son. An impossible task, he knew, but one he found himself enjoying anyway. He'd taken Quincy to buy an airbike, for birthdays he'd forgotten, he claimed, and now they were looking at a blazing red model. Kid had good taste, Quinn noted with pride. Still, Quincy had seemed reluctant to go with him, and probably wouldn't have come unless Kai had insisted.

Quinn wasn't sure what to make of how she was acting. Sure, he understood why she was furious with him. Heck, he'd be angry, too, but the part that confused him was why she was insisting that Quincy spend time with him. Was it just because she wanted him to know his father, or was there something else going on?

Quinn had probed for information, and Quincy had said that Kai owned the Wasted Wagoneer, and had for years, ever since her uncle Yoric had passed away and left it to her in his will. Turned out she'd had a few male companions over the years, but none that had stuck around. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who'd been scorched by her fiery temper. For some reason, that news set him in a good mood, but he couldn't say why. He looked at his son, amazed.

Quincy looked like a straight-down-the-middle amalgamation of Quinn and Kai. It was amazing to see parts of himself in this boy, and he shook his head to bring himself back to what they were doing. The salesman approached, passing by some teenagers and two brawny, nondescript men on the sidewalk chatting beside a black windryder sedan. They stood out by not standing out, he noticed. Hopefully not his problem.

“Hi there, fellas,” the salesman interrupted genially, swooping in for what he undoubtedly hoped would be a smooth sale.

“Hey,” Quinn said as the fluffy man approached, his round face dominated by a large mustache. “How much you asking for this one?” Quinn asked.

The salesman whistled and shook his head. “You really know how to pick 'em, don'tcha,” he smiled. He thrust his hand out and said, “Name's Jimmy. Welcome to my dealership.” They shook, and Jimmy continued, leaning casually on the airbike. “This baby...is a real screamer,” he grinned. “Pickup like a lightning bolt and more power than most guys can handle.” He looked at the two men with a knowing grin, and then seemed to register their impressive physiques. “Not you two, though, I bet. How about a test drive?” He dangled the keys with a grin, and Quinn shrugged, taking them.

“Sure,” he replied. “You wanna follow behind?”

“Nah, just need your credit code in case you get in a fender-bender,” the salesman grinned, holding out his tablet. “Don't worry, we don't do anything with it unless you decide to purchase or run off with the vehicle,” he chuckled. Satisfied with that, Quinn shrugged and made his mark. He noticed the nondescript men get in and start up their vehicle. Could be trouble, he frowned.

Quinn took the front seat on the airbike, telling Quincy to buckle in behind him. Once his son was securely fastened in, the grizzled Knight gunned the engine, and with a burst of power, took to the air. He smiled with satisfaction. It was exhilarating to feel the wind in his hair again, even if it was the filtered variety pumped through the station's atmospheric systems.

The bike handled smoothly as he guided it to the top traffic tier, reserved for fast travel. As Quinn was checking the mirror, he spotted the black windryder behind them. He cursed his luck, and looked over his shoulder at Quincy.

“Looks like we've got a monkey on our tail. Hold on tight,” he shouted over the roar of the wind. Quincy craned his neck in surprise to look behind them, and then nodded, holding tight to the sidebars. Good kid, Quinn thought as he gunned the engine into a sharp turn. The sedan instantly abandoned its pretense of being out for a casual ride, and broke traffic pattern to pursue them.

Quinn passed between the other vehicles on the top tier, picking up speed. He felt like he was back in his element, living on the edge, but there was a sharp distinction, this time. He had to protect his son, and didn't want to put him in danger. Too late...Best he could hope for now was to minimize the risk. He wished he could drop him off somewhere, but that wasn't an option with the windryder so close behind them.

So he had to shake them somehow. He spotted an abandoned construction area with a large wrecking-ball crane off to the right, and pushed the airbike's engine toward it, a plan forming in his mind. The sedan followed close behind them, and in the mirror, Quinn saw the passenger lean out the window, holding a weapon. “Hold on, kid,” he yelled, and turned hard down to the left, taking them directly toward the unfinished building.

“Are you crazy?” Quincy yelled over the rush of the air. “You're gonna kill us!”

“Trust me; I've done this before, kid!” Quinn yelled back, “Just keep your head down!” Quinn took out his pistol and fired a full-power pulse-blast at the crane's safety-latch before they rounded the corner of the structure, seeing it release to begin a slow swing down on the opposite side of the building. He nodded to himself, and then flew directly into the open building, keeping inside the space between the unfinished floors. The sedan followed them through, swiftly dodging the support pylons and debris in the narrow aperture. It was going to be close, and he had to time it perfectly. Quinn gunned it and flew out of the building just in time to miss the swinging crane.

The sedan wasn't so lucky, and caught the full force of the wrecking ball's destruction, crushed and tossed aside like a bug on a view-glass. Quinn slowed down and brought the airbike to a stationary hover, breathing heavy, and looked down at the wrecked windryder. There wasn't much chance that whoever had been following them survived that impact and subsequent fall, but he'd kept his son alive, and that was what mattered.

With a grunt, Quinn gunned it back to the dealership, landing in front of the salesman as he was telling the teenagers to come back when they had more money. Jimmy smiled and walked over when he saw them.

“So? What do we think? How'd she handle?” he asked knowingly.

“How much you asking?” Quinn prompted.

“Well, normally I'd have to say at least...” he looked at Quinn out of the corner of his eye, “let's say ten thousand.” He held his breath, waiting for Quinn to respond. When Quinn just sat there looking at him, he continued nervously. “Of course, if that's too much right now, we've got payment plans available...”

Quinn looked back at Quincy, who seemed torn. Clearly, his son wanted the airbike, but ten thousand seemed far too high an asking price. Quincy saw his father looking at him, and shrugged.

“Okay,” said Quinn, “thanks for your time.” He and Quincy got off the bike and turned to leave, but Jimmy ran around them to block their exit, a desperate look on his face.

“I can go as low as seven thousand,” he offered.

“Quinn stopped and cocked his head to the side, then shook it. “I'll pay five. In hard credit.”

Jimmy ran his hands through his hair, and laughed, but when Quinn started to leave, put his hand up and said, “How...how about six? That's the best I can do,” he said wincing, hands spread wide in supplication.

Quinn sighed, but nodded. That was a fair price. “Okay, go ahead and write up the title transfer. You just got yourself a sale.”

“Yes!” Jimmy said, and then ran inside. He came back out with a title transfer code, and after Quinn paid for the vehicle, he downloaded the title code and registered the airbike in Quincy's name. Once Jimmy was gone, Quinn turned to his son.

The ride back to the Wasted Wagoneer went smoothly, for the most part, as Quinn taught his son the basics of flying an airbike. Small adjustments. Once they arrived, Kai came out and looked at them, Quincy beaming with pride. She was shaking her head, but smiling. “An airbike, huh?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms. “I hope you kept it under the speed limit.”

Quinn looked at her and winced. “Kai, we need to talk.”

14

Mtumba's family was wonderful, but was a painful reminder that Stella's own father wasn't waiting for her when she arrived. Where was he? Stella saw Mtumba smile at her between hugs and warm greetings from his family members. He introduced everyone, and they welcomed her warmly, but Stella still felt the deep pangs of jealousy. She hid her feelings behind a bright smile, and prevented herself from snapping at Mtumba a few times when he would smile and ask, “Isn't this wonderful?”

Mama Teke, Uncle Kel, and a small village of cousins, aunts and uncles had set up a tribal shanty by the edge of the forest in the Garden Citadel. Stella's small group gathered to sit around the fire under the light of the orange gas giant they orbited, wood crackling and popping. Other members of the tribe came and went, until everyone had come by to welcome them, especially Mtumba.

They'd been chatting and catching up for at least half an hour. Stella wasn't sure, though. Time seemed to stretch and bend here in this magical setting. Music was present in everything they did, and everyone was so welcoming.