The Wind Merchant (47 page)

Don't give… up…

Don’t…

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Reclaimers

“Put this ship down, now!” Callie shouted. The fresh bandages Dayus had applied to her midsection were already blotching red in a few places. She steadied herself against the bookshelf next to the fainting couch Elias lay on in Hal’s parlor. The ship rocked from side to side, and Dixie steadied the one-legged man.

“Miss Calista,” Dayus said, holding his hands out, “I have been instructed to not let you leave this room.”

“Then you’re killing him!”

The Kingfisher
bounced again, throwing them both off-balance. “May I remind you that there is a battle still going on outside?”

“Then why are we…why are we still in it?” Callie asked, pulling herself along the bookshelf toward the exit. “I can keep us from freezing if we head toward the Origin. Nobody will be able to follow us.” She blinked hard, focusing on staying conscious.

Dayus cut her path off. “By the time this ship reaches Erasmus, countless years will have passed for him and the rest of the world,” he said. “Atmo will be thrown into chaos, and they’re going to need someone to guide them. The Illorians will lose patience waiting for Halcyon. They’ll invade Atmo in retaliation for The Collective’s actions.”

Callie thought for a moment. “Dayus, please. I can keep the ship from getting stuck.” Her stomach shot a new wave of pain through her, causing her to cringe.

“Are you so certain of that as to risk the world?” Dayus asked.

She wasn’t. For all she knew, the serum Lupava had given her might have been temporary.

Dayus sighed. “Calista, I need you to understand something. You are the last surviving child from the train. I found your adoptive parents and only released you upon the condition that they take you as far away from the Time Origin as possible,” he said. “I can’t let you do the exact opposite of that.”

“The last?” Callie asked. To hear someone finally confirm her suspicions gave her an odd relief in the wake of learning that everything about her past was a lie. But, such truths would have be examined later.
If there was a later.

“Yes, and it has pained me to watch each child die off,” Dayus said, compassion filling his eyes. “Something happened to them all after their time in that tunnel. Please don’t let me fail my mission.”

“Ras kept me alive,” Callie said, half to herself. “Time is everywhere, Dayus. Maybe being in
Verdant
helped, but the only thing that stopped my pain was Ras.” She swayed, and Dixie stood to support her. “And I’m not about to let him die when he’s spent most of his life keeping me alive. Let me take a shuttle.”

“You’re in no state to go—”

“I’ll fly her down there,” Dixie said, getting a better grip on Callie. “If we get stuck in Time, we get stuck in Time. I’m all right with a fresh start.” She smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, Stretch. At least if we freeze, you’ll die knowing she outlived you.”

Dayus eyed Dixie, then Callie. He stooped and collected a fresh wrap of bandages from beside the couch. “She’s going to need these.”

Callie watched Dixie work the controls of the shuttle as the door to
The Kingfisher
sealed, separating them from Dayus.

“Do you know how to fly this thing?” Callie asked from the bench, carefully buckling herself into her restraints.

Dixie studied the controls. “Nobody told me everything would be labeled with gibberish.” She turned back to Callie. “Hold tight, this might get interesting.”

“Define—”

The third lever Dixie pulled ejected the shuttle mid-flight. The wings telescoped out, and the one to port struck
The Kingfisher
as it continued to fly forward, sending the shuttle into a spin.

Callie felt her stomach painfully lift as she clutched her restraints, waiting for the engines to engage. Moments passed and they continued to fall. “What are you doing?”

“Making us a harder target,” Dixie shouted back, flipping switches, pulling levers, and mashing buttons at random. They plummeted past Illorian, Collective, and sky pirate ships alike.

“Intentionally?”

A blast from the engine shot them forward, upside down. The restraints dug into Callie’s shoulders. Dixie pointed to the spire of the Time Origin in the distance. “Is that little black spot him?” Her speech showed signs of slowing as she rolled the shuttle to the correct orientation.

“Dixie?” Callie asked.

“What?”

“Say something.”

“Like?”

“Just talk about anything. Be yourself,” Callie said.

Dixie looked back, furrowed her brow, then shrugged. “When I was six we had a cat named Bootsie, not because of her white paws but because she liked to hide in my dad’s boot—”

“Land the shuttle!” Callie commanded.

“Hold on, why?” Dixie’s speech was continuing to slow. The newfound Lack ability wasn’t holding up well against such a close proximity to the Time Origin. Before long, her sphere of influence might shrink to the degree that she would find herself trapped inside the shuttle without an escape.

“Please,” Callie said, “just land.”

They were nearly a mile away from the towering structure that bathed the world around it in purple.

Dixie pushed down on the controls. “Let’s hope one of these puts down wheels.” She played with the controls: console lights flicked off, windshield wipers swiped, and a bout of static across the speakers. Finally the ship lurched slightly. “I think that might have done it.”

“Might?”

“We’re landing one way or another,” Dixie said. “What’s the rush?”

“Dayus was right. I would have gotten
The Kingfisher
stuck.”

Dixie evened up the shuttle, then descended until they skimmed along the ground. “What are the chances he’s alive?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

The shuttle dropped, bouncing on the craggy ground. Dixie pushed the controls back down, forcing the ship into a rough landing and an eventual halt.

Callie undid her restraints. “Hopefully I’ll be back before you know it.” She stood, felt a dizzy spell wash over her from the pain, then closed her eyes to steady herself. Working the shuttle door’s release, Callie pushed her weight against the exit until it cracked open enough for her to slip out.

An oppressive, dry heat assailed her as soon as she made it outside the shuttle. The ground ahead looked distorted; the heat waves were caught in a Time thicker than she experienced.

Clutching her stomach, she picked up into a jog. Every footfall sent a shock through her body, and the distortion made it nearly impossible to tell how much further she had to go.

After five minutes of jogging, she noticed the white wrap had turned almost completely red, and the sight of blood shocked her into a walk.

Not much longer
, she thought, unsure of whether she meant how far she had to go or how far she could go. The crystal spire seemed to grow in front of her, forcing her to constantly reestimate how high the structure actually stood.

Above the peak of the Origin hung the wreckage of
The Brass Fox
, and for a moment Callie worried that Ras was in the impossible-to-reach ship, but a dark blur ahead gave her hope.

She picked up into a shambling jog again. Something felt wrong in her midsection, but it was too late to turn around and have Dixie fly her away. “Ras!” she shouted, but the name rang hollow in her head.

The dark form became less blurred by the heat waves as she neared. It was Ras, but he wasn’t standing. His prone form lay stretched on the ground, ten feet away from the Time Origin’s base. She picked up speed as fast as her body would allow, until she slid in beside him, kicking up dust that froze once it left her receding radius.

“Ras,” she said, “wake up.” Kneeling, she brushed his hair off his forehead.
That usually does the trick.
Looking down, she noticed just how much blood soaked his shirt and shoulder, the excess of it dripping to the parched ground beneath him.

Without thinking, she put her ear to his chest. She couldn’t tell if she felt anything over her own racing heart. Lifting her newly sticky cheek from his torso, she saw his bracelet clutched in his hand. “You listen to me, Erasmus Veir.” Tears began forming. “You don’t know how to quit, you understand? You’ve never given up on me before, so you can’t start now.” She dropped to her side, wishing she could have done more. Placing her hands on his left arm, she shook him violently until the pain knotted to an unbearable level. “I was supposed to stop them, not you. You were supposed to go home and have a family again.” The deep pulse of the Time Origin seemed to grow louder as if welcoming her toward sleep.

The sound of the wind came to her ears, joined by the crackle of fire rushing toward them. Above,
The Brass Fox
had dislodged itself from its moment in Time and raced toward the ground. It crashed down ten feet beside them, sending debris flying. Callie instinctively shielded Ras from the scraps of glass and flaming wood. She then looked back to Ras’ bloodied face as the calm returned.

She wiped away a tear. “I’m your navi…you’re not supposed to go anywhere unless…unless I tell you…” The pain forced her to lay down next to him. Struggling to shift his left arm out, she rested her head on the crook of his shoulder. There was comfort there, like the side of her head was made for it.

“I love you,” she said softly, closing her eyes. “I always have.”

Epilogue

Emma Veir stood on the end of the pier next to her family’s empty slip the same way she had for the past two weeks. The sunset filled the skies with a brilliant red.

Her family
. It was one thing to live in denial that Elias would one day arrive unannounced, but without her son by her side, she could only stand alone for so long before hope slipped away.

Looking over the edge at the clouds below was a dangerous pastime. A waver in balance, and she’d make a hasty return to the surface. She shut her mind to the idea, but knew the thought would rear its ugly head again.

“You’d see them just as soon if you took a couple steps back,” Old Harley said. This was his third and final round of the day that ended with him checking on her. “I know I’d feel a lot better.”

Emma appreciated that someone still cared. The tapping of Old Harley’s cane grew closer.

“The boys made a few extra windcakes,” Old Harley said, stopping a few feet short of her. She turned and saw him extending his old lunch pail. Emma faintly smiled and shook her head. “At least the Energy levels are at their highest in over a decade,” he offered.

“What does that mean?” Emma asked.

“Nobody from The Collective will confirm it, but the city council thinks
The Winnower
is broken,” Old Harley said. “And nobody’s seen hide nor hair of Bravo Company ever since they left. I don’t know what your boy did, but it’s a step in the right direction.”

“It’s not enough, Harley.”

“I know,” he said. “But maybe he’s not done walking.”

“I don’t know how many more sunsets I have left in me,” Emma said.

“The thing about sunsets is, if you wait long enough, it’s a new day,” Old Harley said, stepping up alongside Emma. “The world keeps turning, and we keep on riding.”

Emma eyed the horizon. More wind merchant vessels had been collecting in The Bowl lately, and a few of them looked cruelly similar to
The Brass Fox
.

“I know the clean-up crew is still taking volunteers. If you could use a distraction, I’m sure they—”

“I couldn’t focus when I volunteered. They don’t want me back.”

Old Harley sighed. “I am sorry, Emma. I truly am,” he said. “Ras turned out to be a fine man, and I count you responsible for that.”

“At what point do you let go?” Emma asked, looking over at Old Harley, eyes searching him for an answer. “When is it enough?”

“Maybe you’ll see them again,” Old Harley said. “Before the winds took my Lana from me, she told me that goodbye was for just a little while. I’m holding her to it.”

Emma turned, placing a hand lightly on Old Harley’s shoulder. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.” She began walking down the pier, leaving Old Harley by himself with pail in hand.

“Emma?” Old Harley asked, his voice quietly urgent.

“What?” She looked back at Old Harley, then followed the line of his outstretched hand to where it pointed. In the far distance, a white airship descended from high above. A light flicked on and off, repeating a pattern. “Is that…”

“
The Kingfisher
,” Old Harley said reverently. Other airships diverted their flight paths to watch it, and the dockhands began gathering to gawk at the white vessel.

“What’s the message?” Emma asked. The ship was coming straight for them.

“It keeps repeating: I’m home, baby, I’m home.”

“Eli?” Emma ran back to the edge of the pier, clutching the loose material of her dress as she waited for the white ship to complete its voyage.

“Over here!” Old Harley shouted, waving an arm and leaning on his cane. “I think word is spreading.” He tapped Emma, prompting her to look over her shoulder. A small crowd was amassing behind them.

She didn’t care as long as they didn’t get in her way once the ship landed. The last few minutes before the ship docked felt like an eternity.

Old Harley scurried to his usual position to await a rope with which to tie the ship down as the vessel glided into the Veir family slip. Before
The Kingfisher
came to a complete stop, the main hatch hissed open with a wash of steam.

“Emma!” an almost forgotten voice shouted out from the haze, and a figure leapt out from its midst, landing with a falter next to Emma.

She instinctively reached for the man, keeping him upright until her hope became reality. She flung her arms around Elias. “I thought I lost you.”

Elias embraced her tightly, swaying her back and forth. “I’m here, baby, I’m here.” He bobbled, but caught his balance. “Well, most of me.”

Emma looked down. One of Elias’ pant legs was empty.