The Wind Merchant (25 page)

“Bedtime favorites,” Ras said.

“Lucky lad. Then I won’t bore you by rehashing them, as I’m sure you could tell them better than I,” Pop said. “Well, little did we know that India Bravo was waiting for night to fall before she struck, so Elias only made it halfway through the legend of Hal Napier and the secret pass into The Wild.”

Callie leaned in, “That might be something to ask about later.”

Ras nodded, his gaze transfixed on Pop.

A voice called out, “Get back to India Bravo!”

“Patience. A good story has to unfold. If I rush, you won’t enjoy it as much,” Pop chided. “Anyway,
New Crispin
shudders while we’re all enjoying our suppers. We chalk it up to old engines, but the cannon ball ripping through the wall just behind me changed our minds rather quickly,” he said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder. The crowd chuckled darkly.

“We make it outside and see dozens of ships surrounding
New Crispin
with
The Dauntless
sitting back, taking it all in. Well, Elias was as quick as a whip. He asked if we stored any Energy reserve balloons below the town, which we did, and told us to use whatever we could to attach them to our ships and open ‘em right next to the sky pirate vessels. We told him most of us didn’t have cannons, but he said we didn’t need cannons.

“So,
New Crispin
is under bombardment and we have about ten able ships among us to collect the Energy reserve balloons. Next thing we know, Elias has dropped below the cloud cover in his ship and we worry we’ve lost him. We wouldn’t have blamed the man if he had just run to let us fight our own battle, but he had Krantz and a few other able-bodied men aboard with him.” Pop looked at Krantz. “My boy, you want to tell this part?”

Krantz just stared at Pop and the crowd burst into laughter.

“Suit yourself,” Pop said. “Anyway, Eli was skimming The Convergence below about as close as anyone would dare, collecting a tankful of concentrated Energy. He led the charge toward India with nothing but Energy.”

“How did he down ‘em?” the teenage boy said, piping up.

“Joey, you’ve heard this a million times!”

“I know, but I was just trying to add tension for Erasmus,” Joey said.

“Just let me do my job,” Pop said, then muttered, “Knucklehead.” He turned back to face Ras, “Where was I?”

Callie chimed in, “Charging India Bravo with—”

“Nothing but Energy, very good. So, the thing that Elias knew that we didn’t was that the Bravo fleet were the only pirate ships around outfitted with Helios engines, and anyone that’s flown with a Helios knows that they fall dead in the sky if their engines are surrounded with raw Energy…so that’s what we did. We flew in, ripped the reserve balloons right next to ‘em while we dragged them behind us.
The Silver Fox
reversed its collection process, gassing the engines of anyone stupid enough to fall behind its collection tube.

“We took down twenty of their ships, lost four of ours, before the shot burst through
The Silver Fox
’s balloon, but I already told you how he made it out of that one. Poor old Krantz hasn’t stepped foot inside an airship since—”

“Unnecessary detail,” Krantz said. He glanced at Ras, who had turned to look at him. “As you were.”

“Well, being out of a ship wouldn’t stop Elias Veir, would it?” Pop smiled broadly. “Now, nobody was around to see it, but the legend goes that he hijacked one of the pirate ships trying to board
New Crispin
, piloted it to
The Dauntless
, and became the reason India Bravo wears an eyepatch.”

A low, mechanical moan grew in the room, halting the story.

“Is that an engine?” Pop asked, inclining an ear.

Joey stood and ran outside as the pulsing sound grew. He ducked his head back inside and shouted. “It’s
The Halifax
!”

The sounds of chairs scraping against the floor added to the noise as everyone scrambled to filter outside.

“What’s
The Halifa
x?” Callie asked.

“The Collective’s flagship,” the blonde woman said. “If it’s here, it means trouble.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Halifax

Ras and Callie followed the blonde woman outside. The suffocating heat of the engines from the ship above made it difficult to breathe and cast the whole of
New Crispin
in a sickly green glow.

The silhouette of the monstrosity blacked out most of the sky above except for four glowing orbs on each corner of its structure, where its engines burned. It was clearly larger than
The Dauntless
.

“What’s it doing here?” Joey shouted to Pop over the thrum of the engines.

Pop shook his head. “It should be on the front lines. Must be retreating.”

Tiny flashes of light caught Ras’ attention from behind
The Halifax
. The growing howl confirmed cannon fire before little eruptions pocked the underbelly of the capital ship
.

“Helios brought them here!” Pop said. “That son of a Lack!” He began hobbling toward the docks. “Everyone to your ships. Sky pirates inbound. Krantz? Where’s Krantz?”

“On it,” the surly barkeep said as he exited the building. “Addie, help me prime the cannon!” The blonde woman followed Krantz as he broke off from the crowd.

Above, a green light flashed from
The Halifax
’s port side with a familiar unholy scream that set Ras’ skin crawling. A beam formed behind the ship, lashing out at one of the sky pirate vessels. The pirate airship erupted in an incinerating wash of green, illuminating the skies around the explosion to reveal the inbound swarm of sky pirates.

“What was that?” Callie asked, “That’s horrible!”

Ras stared blankly before blinking away the bright line burned into his vision. “I don’t know, but we have to go,” Ras said. He clasped Callie’s hand and began leading her back toward the docks before a hand caught his shoulder.

“We could really use your help, son,” Pop said. “Will you fight with us?”

Ras struggled for words. He wanted to tell the old man he wasn’t his father, that he didn’t even have a cannon, and that he couldn’t make a difference unless he made it to The Wild, but it all felt cowardly in the moment. He opened his mouth to speak before the sound of harnesses grinding against cable drew his attention above them.

A dozen helmeted men in Collective uniforms fell into the midst of the dispersing crowd with rifles at the ready, shouting orders over the din of cannon fire and engine wash.

Ras pulled the large wrench from its holster and held it at the ready.

“Erasmus Veir!” one of the soldiers shouted. “We’re looking for an Erasmus Veir and Calista Tourbillon!”

Helping The Collective was a low priority for the residents of
New Crispin
. Everyone scattered.

“I think this is a little overkill for bringing in a kidnapper, wouldn’t you say?” Callie asked.

Ras looked up at
The Halifax
, taking in its size. “A bit.”

“Hey! You two!” one of the men in uniform pointed at Ras and Callie. “You need to come with us! This place is going to be overrun with pirates!”

Pop interjected himself between Ras and the soldier. “Not if that thing makes a stand for us!” he said, pointing at
The Halifax
.

“That’s not our mission, now step aside!” the soldier leveled his rifle at Pop.

“You brought them here and you’re leaving them with us?” Pop said.

“Step aside! That’s your final warning!”

“It’s all right, Pop,” Ras said, stepping in front of the old man. “It’s better this way.”

“Good,” the soldier said. “Strap into one of the harnesses—”

Before the soldier could react, Ras swung the large wrench, knocking the rifle loose. “Run!” he shouted, leading Callie toward the dock.

“What are you doing?” Callie asked breathlessly, stumbling into a run behind Ras.

“The longer it takes for The Collective to bring us in, the longer
The Halifax
has to fight the pirates,” Ras said as the first warning salvo from the soldiers ripped past them and into a storefront’s window. “Which means less pirates for
New Crispin
.”

“They’re shooting at us! I thought they wanted us alive!” Callie said.

The Halifax
’s weapon screamed again as they turned a corner to see
The Brass Fox
waiting at the dock less than one-hundred yards away. Thunderous crashing noises erupted, and Ras couldn’t tell if it was from the storm below or the battle above.

“Look out!” Callie shouted, yanking back on Ras’ arm and stopping him from running directly into the path of the half-airship on a collision course with
New Crispin
. The edges of the back half of the vessel were simply cauterized and smoldering where the front half used to be.

The wreckage crumpled, shooting wood splinters everywhere before screeching to a halt, effectively cutting off the path to the docks.

“There! Fire!” A pursuing soldier knelt with a tube over his shoulder.

Ras turned and wrapped himself around Callie before a mesh net knocked them off-balance, engulfing and dragging them to the ground.

The small squadron of Collective soldiers ran up and began securing ties into the netting before aiming the large gun at a descending Collective airship.

The gun fired, sending cabling out to strike the airship, and before Ras could attempt to cut his way free, the net lifted with a jerk and they were on their way to
The Halifax
as the battle over
New Crispin
began.

In his Captain’s quarters, Foster Helios III wore a grin he couldn’t have lost if he tried. The ornate brass sphere from Hal Napier sat in the middle of his desk. He placed a magnifying glass over it, inspecting the craftsmanship. The fine lines of filigree etched in the sides resembled a stormy sea of clouds. A product of a bygone era.

“Was this the only thing of note on their ship?” Foster asked the three officers standing across the desk from him.

“We pulled an old grapple gun that you might like for your collection off of the young man,” one officer said.

“Yes, I should very much like to see that,” Foster said, his eyes flicking to the walls of his Captain’s quarters which were lined with artifacts from the earliest days of wind merchants, back before the adventure of saving the world had turned into board meetings on profitability and risk matrix analyses. “Where are they now?”

“We’re running them through the battery of tests,” the second officer said.

“Good. They should be nice and pliable when I speak with them.” Foster placed his bare hand on the brass orb and held it high. “But what do we do with you?”

Ras lay strapped to a gurney at a forty-five degree angle inside a glass dome. The worst part hadn’t been the different gasses they subjected him to, or even the needles that forced him to fight the urge to vomit every time one unceremoniously jabbed him. Those came a close second and third to having Callie merely ten feet away from him in her own glass dome; scared, crying, and in pain as the two men in labcoats behind their console subjected her to the same treatment.

His voice had gone hoarse hours earlier from screaming at the scientists and trying to reassure Callie, who would look over at him but couldn’t hear or understand him. The familiar hissing noise returned as air filtered into the dome again. This time a burning sensation tingled throughout his body before sending chills up his spine. Callie just cried. She looked over at Ras and mouthed—or maybe said; he couldn’t tell—“Why?”

Ras violently shook the gurney, fighting the restraints to no avail. “Leave her alone!” he screamed repeatedly.

The scientists appeared to take special interest in one of their readouts and looked up at Ras with confusion, then delight. One of them twisted a knob, and the gas filtering in had Ras fighting to stay awake, as if he would somehow be more capable of protecting Callie if he remained conscious. The last things he saw before the blackness took him were her beautiful, tear-filled blue eyes, pleading with him.

The vision of Callie melted away into a gunmetal gray ceiling that provided absolutely no clue as to Ras’ whereabouts. He was horizontal; that much was certain. He attempted to sit up, but his body failed to obey any commands. Looking around was the extent of his range of motion. His ears rang and a high-pitched, feminine voice spoke in muffled tones, its origin unknown.

In his peripheral vision, he could make out some straight black lines.
Metal bars?
His limited ability to look around hindered him from surveying the entire cell, but from what he could ascertain, he was alone. No Callie.

The voice became clearer. “Hello?” it said. “You
look
awake. Are you ignoring me, Ras?” The woman’s voice was child-like. “Blink if you can understand me,” she said.

Ras blinked.

“Oh, good, you’re just paralyzed and not ignoring me. I hate when people ignore me.”

He tried to speak, but his best attempt produced a hum.

“‘
Where’s Callie
?’ you say? That’s terribly romantic of you to be so concerned. Tell me you at least had that date before you wound up here.”
 

Dixie
.

Someone approached his cell, unlocking it. Two men entered. “Him?”

“Yeah, Foster wants him sobered up before they talk.” A needle plunged into his arm.

A pinch and a burning sensation flooded through Ras. He could still feel everything happening to him. His whole body began tingling like a limb growing new nerves. The men left the cell, slamming the door.

“Wurru,” Ras mumbled, trying to locate Dixie’s position. He attempted moving his head but waves of nausea crashed over him.

“Yoo-hoo,” Dixie said. “Next cell over. You’re lucky they’re speeding up your recovery. Took me the better part of a day before I could talk again. They haven’t been able to shut me up since.”

Ras didn’t doubt it. “Ow yuher?” Ras slurred.

“What’s that?”