The Wind Merchant (37 page)

Before The Collective ship could move, a dozen silver Elder airships dropped down to match altitude. One ship pulled close enough to reach a gangplank across.

“Ready arms!” the officer commanded. “They’re boarding!”

With a snap-hiss from the Elder vessel, a dozen large clockwork soldiers filed out onto The Collective ship’s deck. Muskets fired, clouding the area with smoke as the eight-foot tall metal men marched forward, their thick arms swinging, knocking Collective personnel overboard. The volleys of small arms fire did little more than dent their finish.

Two of the clockwork beasts headed straight for Callie, relieving her of her guards. She opened her now-purple eyes in terror.

Ras watched the scene play out in slow motion before him. Ducking beneath his slowed escort, he snatched the keyring and freed himself from his restraints. Dashing through the chaos toward Callie, he sidestepped one Elder’s lumbering swipe and ducked beneath another.

Ahead, one of the Elders near Callie sprayed her with a gas from a canister attached to its wrist.

With the cuffs now unlocked, Ras’ plan was to tackle Callie over the railing and grapple back to his ship. His plan could have worked if not for the Elder next to Callie, which backhanded him mid-dive, altering both his path and his ability to remain conscious.

Callie awoke at a sharp pain in her arm that made her gasp. She knew the familiar stick of a needle from many doctor’s visits, but her physicians had never restrained her arms and legs like this.

The Elder that had stuck her turned and stomped down a short corridor that opened up to the ship’s bridge.

The inescapable gurney was placed inside a half bowl designed to latch with the domed encasement hanging above her.

“Does anyone feel like telling me what’s going on?” Callie said weakly, trying not to look at the uncovered needle. None of the twenty or so machine men acknowledged her request. She felt as if an invisible hand were pushing her deeper into the gurney. They were ascending.

She wished she could be fascinated with finally seeing The Elders up close. The idea of how the automatons must have been constructed baffled her, and the best explanation she could muster resembled the stories of alchemists or magicians from her library.

The Elder at the head of the bridge spoke in flowing and elegant sounds, at least for speech piped through speakers.
 

Callie watched the twenty machines reach up and grab their head, pull, and dislodge the metal shell to reveal people underneath. They weren’t clockwork giants, but merely men and women in large suits, albeit tall men and women in large suits.

The chief Elder turned from his position and walked down the central walkway, either side of which held a pit of crew. His buzzed hair and gaunt face gave him a very austere and martial look. Approaching Callie, he towered over her with a stern expression which softened as he took a knee and brought himself down to her level.

The commander spoke in a melodic, soothing tone, then awaited a response. His eyes held pity.

“I…ah…” Callie muttered in utter confusion until it dawned on her; they thought she was an Elder too. She attempted to parrot the last phrase issued by the commander.

His face contorted and his eyes narrowed.

She didn’t know how to keep up the ruse. Her eyes darted around until she saw a familiar face in the pit. “Carter?”

The commander turned to his crew, then back to Callie. “Carter?” he asked, pointing to his man.

Callie nodded, and the commander barked an order. The tall man left his post and stood at attention upon reaching his leader.

The commander spoke to Carter, who relayed the message. “The commander wishes to know why you won’t speak Illorian.”
 

“What’s happening, Carter?” Callie asked.

Carter explained something in his native tongue that sounded far lengthier than a mere translation to the commander, who interrupted, then finally spoke in words Callie understood.

“The close call must have addled your mind,” the commander said in a tender tone. “We almost lost you. You weren’t meant to be brought so low. Did your family not tell you that you were a Conduit?”

Callie shook her head.

“And do you know what that means in times like these?”

“What? What does that mean? Times like what?” Callie asked.

The commander turned to address her. “It means, my dear girl, that Illoria needs you more than anyone else right now. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

The commander looked to Carter. “You have leave to send condolences to her family. The main gate will soon be breached, so move quickly. Please tell them that Illoria would be lost without her.” Without addressing Callie again, the commander left to return to his station.

“Carter, tell me what’s going on,” Callie said.

“Where are your friends? I don’t have much time,” Carter said.

“I don’t know. We came through the pass with the white train in it.”

“The Children’s Pass?” Carter asked.

“I don’t know, we just flew through there,” Callie said. “Why is it called The Children’s Pass?”

“I don’t have time to explain it—”

“Carter, please. I need to know.”

Carter looked over his shoulder. “Every Illorian knows about The Children’s Pass.”

“I’m not Illorian!” Callie said.

“You’re a Conduit, and probably the only unfrozen one left,” Carter said, “You’re Illorian.”

“Humor me,” Callie said quickly. “Why is that train in The Children’s Pass? Pretend I forgot.”

Carter sighed. “Fine. The short of it is that The Outsiders used a new weapon on us during the great war, so we shut ourselves in and sent children away on trains in case they bombed our cities,” he said, “The Children’s Pass was thick with Time and its train got stuck, so when the Elders tried to block every pass into Illoria, they couldn’t bring themselves to destroy the pass with the children in it.”

“And…what happened to the children?”

“I thought they were still down there,” Carter said, “Whenever someone goes to check, they don’t come back.”

Callie lie silently, processing the information, wondering if her dreams weren’t based on memories. “How old would one of those children look today if they were still alive?”

“I don’t know. I guess it depends on when they left the tunnel. I really have to go, Calista,” Carter said, “They’re going to use you to freeze the Outsider fleet.”

“What? How?”

Carter gestured to the mechanism surrounding her. “I don’t know what the Outsiders call it, but they used this against us in the war. I’ll try to find your friends. You don’t deserve to die like this.”

“Die?”

“I’ll hurry,” said Carter, dashing off.

The commander spoke into the loudspeaker and the top half of the sphere descended atop Callie, sealing her in with a hiss and giving her only a small porthole to see the start of the second Clockwork War.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Signal

A slap jerked Ras back into consciousness. Flames crackled all around him as he lay on the deck of a sinking airship. His ringing ears permitted him to hear what sounded like dull roars and screams.

He opened his eyes to see Dixie straddling him, shaking his shoulders. He couldn’t make out what she said, but it seemed urgent. Another explosion went off behind her as Ras foggily began to extricate himself from her grip.

The Elder ships were specks on the horizon, and Ras’ understanding returned to him, if not his hearing. Dixie latched onto his left arm and patted the grapple gun. She pointed up, yammering a million miles an hour.

Ras struggled to sit up, and his eyes followed where she pointed.
The Brass Fox
hung, untouched. The balloon above them leaked air and the ship rocked again as another barrel of the fuel supply exploded, dislodging the back half of The Collective vessel and sending it plummeting. The front half shook and Ras scrambled to his feet.

“You want off this boat?” Ras asked. Nothing she could say would convince him to save her, but it worked to her advantage that he couldn’t understand her.
 

All he could see was a scared girl without any other options.

Would you save the rest of The Collective too?
he wondered. He had to decide soon; the ship continued to drift further away from
The Brass Fox
.
Idiot
, he chastised himself and stepped around a burning portion of the deck to get a clear line of sight on
The Brass Fox
. He aimed the grapple gun and looked back to Dixie. “This is the part where you hold on.”

She rushed up and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he fired the device, connecting to the side of his ship. Ras and Dixie swung forward from the railing of the Collective ship as it drifted to a fiery demise in the wasteland.

Ras began retracting the cable, pulling both of them toward the ship while he tried to keep an eye on the vanishing Elder vessels. For the next three minutes he stared, determined to log their heading as soon as he reached the bridge.

The sound of the whipping wind indicated that his hearing was slowly returning.

Once over the railing of
The Brass Fox
, Ras ducked out from underneath Dixie’s arms and ran up to the bridge to estimate the compass’ bearing of the now vanished ships. “One-Twenty-One.” He then spun on his heel and strode straight past Dixie, picking up her black duffle bag and immediately tossing it overboard.

“Hey!”

Ras could mostly make out what she said if he watched her mouth, and having a good idea of how one might react to losing all of one’s possessions helped.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to complain,” Ras said. He reached under the dash, collecting Dr. O’s engine disruptor. “I don’t want any more surprises out of you.”

“The only picture of my parents was in that bag!”

Ras looked over the side of the ship for effect. “It still
is
in that bag. You’re welcome to go get it.” He walked down to the deck and looked back. “Just because I didn’t let you die back there doesn’t mean I’m taking passengers,” he said before climbing down into the hold.

Walking up to the jetcycle, he disabled its engine, assuming the idea of Dixie stealing the ride had already crossed both their minds.

The purr of the Helios engine turned to a roar as the ship accelerated and descended. “Dixie!”

Once above deck, he looked around for any other ships she might be trying to evade. There weren’t any.

“The bag’s that important, huh?” Ras asked, walking up to the bridge.
 

She didn’t respond.

“Dixie, I’m sorry your city sank. I’m sorry you lost your parents, and I can’t even imagine what you went through afterward.”

“You’re right, you can’t.”

“Have I done anything to hurt you?” he asked, stepping closer.

She shook her head.

“How about Callie?”

“No.”

Another step. “Even if
Verdant
has sunk, which means I’m responsible for the death of my mother, I still have a chance to save someone I love, and I’d like to think that if you had that opportunity, you’d do whatever it took to save them.”

Dixie landed
The Brass Fox
. Two halves of The Collective ship burned bright in the distance. “She left you something by her typewriter,” Dixie said, lowering the gangplank.

Ras stared at her, and then walked down to the Captain’s quarters.

Inside the cannonball-wrecked room, light shone in at odd angles. On the floor next to the lone table lie Callie’s ruined typewriter. He gently lifted it, revealing a small wooden box wrapped in scraps of an old map.

Atop it read “For Erasmus” in Callie’s handwriting.

Ras gingerly found the corners and unwrapped the box without tearing the paper. Lifting the lid revealed what at first looked like a jumble of replacement typewriter keys. He looked over to her typewriter and noticed about a dozen keys pried off their stalks.

He picked up one key and the rest lifted with it. Calista Tourbillon had left Ras a message.

The bracelet read: D-O-N-’-T-G-I-V-E-U-P.

He wouldn’t. Not in a million years or a million miles. He would rescue Calista Tourbillon, and he pitied the man or machine that found him-or-itself between him and his mission.

Strapping the bracelet on, he strode back to the helm. Dixie was nowhere to be found. “Dixie?”

“I’m down here,” she replied from outside the ship.

Ras looked over the edge to see her sitting on the ground next to her bag. “Smart move, disabling the jetcycle,” she said. “I take it you found the message?”

Holding up his right wrist, the bracelet jangled. “How’d you know about this?”

“Girls talk,” said Dixie. “You two idiots were made for each other.”

“You just going to wait here?”

“Another wave is coming. They’ll look for survivors by the distress beacon.” She paused. “Ras?”

“Yeah?”

“I was lying about
Verdant
. I just needed you to stop.”

Ras exclaimed in joy, “Oh you lying little…” Then he grew sober. “What are you going to tell the next wave?”

“Stick around much longer and you’ll find out,” she said. “Go find your girl.”

“Dixie, you probably doomed us all, but thank you.”

“If I had a dime…”

Ras ran back to the controls, aimed the ship at one-hundred and twenty-one degrees, and took off into the vastness of The Wild.

He half expected to catch up with The Elders, imagining Callie overloading without him nearby, especially with Time flowing so heavily in the air, but he reasoned that either whatever they sprayed her with nullified the effect, or she couldn’t overload while unconscious.

In the distance a spherical cloud with a purple glow at its core hung in an otherwise cloudless sky. It reminded Ras of a purple Convergence.

“Callie?” Ras asked, wondering if she had overloaded, trapping her captors. Freeing her from an Elder ship would put them in the midst of a group of hulking Clockwork monsters as soon as he unfroze her, but he reasoned he could tether at least a few of the Elders to their ship with magnets and cables—