The Wind Merchant Page 12

  A gust of wind gently rocked The Brass Fox, causing the part of the deck attached to the spike to creak loudly.

  “Let’s lock you in,” Ras said, attaching Callie’s crank to the cable. “There we are. You’re going nowhere,” he said. “Now, we’ll turn this crank to ascend and descend.” Ras fiddled with his harness when he heard a deafening crack and a piercing scream as Callie shot up and away from The Brass Fox, trailed by the loose piece of deck.

  “Ras!” she cried out as she slipped away, rising with The Kingfisher.

  He stood dumbfounded for a moment. “Idiot!” he muttered to himself. “Hold on! I’m coming!” Ras loaded a rappelling hook into the gun and fired it high into the nearby cliff well above his ship. He ran over to the railing and climbed atop it, almost losing his balance, then pushed the button to start retracting the cable and swung off the side of the airship.

  He landed hard against the cliff face, still needing to ascend. Callie’s screams continued. Taking the cable in his right hand, he disengaged it from the gun, then loaded another rappelling hook. He fired, listened to the cable fwip away, and felt the line go taut. Testing his weight with a quick tug, he then let go with his right hand and began retracting the cable. The next ascension led him to the rock face at an altitude even with The Kingfisher’s. In the distance, Callie dangled below the ship. “Hold on! I’m coming!”

  Ras repeated the ascending process once more on the cliff face, pulling him high above the ascending ship. He only had one more charge, but it had a magnetic top on it, which was perfect. He looked down at the ship and did a little calculation before noticing Callie being hauled onboard the ship by a few men on the deck.

  He took a breath, swallowed hard, and squeezed the firing mechanism in his palm, watching the magnet connect to the siding of the ship. “I’m going to regret this,” he said, throwing caution and himself to the wind. He fell like a stone past The Kingfisher before jerking underneath the ship as the cable wrapped around the underbelly, rounding out his descent and shooting him up the opposite side.

  At the inception of the plan, he had imagined himself landing squarely on the deck with a heroic tuck and roll that would have impressed Callie.

  He didn’t anticipate bouncing off the dirigible.

  Rebounding from the balloon, Ras lost momentum and fell past the side of The Kingfisher’s deck. In a brief moment of clarity, before the cable jerked taut, he tried to recall why he had forgotten to fasten the strap around his torso.

  Snap.

  The artwork onboard The Kingfisher made it difficult for Callie to keep up with her elderly escorts. She didn’t dare stop, but made a mental note to request a tour if time would allow.

  The door to the circular study slid open, spilling light from the hallway onto the room's sole inhabitant. The man reclined in a dark leather chair, well worn to its master’s form. Without conceding defeat to the ceiling in their private staring contest, the man acknowledged the entrants. "Dayus."

  "Sir?" Dayus asked, standing at attention.

  "Am I to gather by the absence of a certain young man behind you that you’ve found a replacement?” the recliner asked, breaking his gaze from the ceiling, turning his attention to Callie. “Oh, who have we here?”

  Callie’s mouth went dry as the legend from her illustrated books stood before her. She began to speak, but opted to curtsey beforehand. “Calista Tourbillon, sir. Thank you for having us, Mr. Napier,” she said shakily.

  “Us?” Hal asked, directing the question to Dayus.

  “Erasmus is being fetched from underneath the ship,” Dayus said with a mixture of amusement and apology.

  “Is he now?” Hal asked, then swept an arm toward his desk. “Miss Tourbillon, if you would join me, I believe we have business to discuss.”

  Callie found herself half paying attention, lost in the stacks of ancient books lining the walls. “Yes, business…” she said, fully distracted and not stepping forward to join Hal.

  Hal traced her eye-line and chuckled softly. “I don’t think those would be of much use to you, I’m afraid.”

  “Are they blank?” Callie asked, aghast.

  “Oh, no, my dear,” Hal said, “just in a language unfamiliar to most.”

  Callie’s shoulders sank slightly and she stepped away from Dayus to take one of the seats facing Hal’s desk. Her eyes were drawn to a small model of a white train sitting next to some papers. “Scale replica?” she asked hopefully. The object seemed plucked straight from her dreams.

  Hal sat across from her, then picked up the train, inspecting it. “I should hope so,” he said, grin widening. “I wouldn’t envy the difficulties of travel for such small people.”

  “I mean, it’s based off of something real, right?”

  “A relic of a bygone era, yes,” Hal said, gently returning the model to his desk. Some soft voices murmured in the hallway, drawing Hal’s attention. He looked across the room to Dayus, raising an eyebrow.

  “It appears, in his theatrics, Mr. Veir has managed to dislocate his shoulder, rendering himself unconscious,” Dayus said.

  “What? Where is he?” Callie asked.

  “Just…hanging around at the moment,” Dayus said. “So I’m told.”

  “Dayus,” Hal chided, attempting to hide a smirk. “Not everyone appreciates your sense of humor. Let us treat our guests with respect.”

  “It’s not like he’s going to hear me,” Dayus said. “I’ll see what we can do to ease his pain.” With that, Dayus left the room, leaving Callie alone with Hal.

  “It looks like business may have to wait,” Hal said.

  Callie thought for a moment. “Not necessarily,” she said. The opening twinge of a headache made her steady herself.

  “Do you have a proposition?” Hal asked.

  She shook her head. “A request, if you’re willing.”

  Hal leaned back in his chair, giving approval with his silence.

  “How did the Great Overload happen?” Callie asked.

  Hal ran a hand through his bristly hair. “That is quite a large request.”

  “Weren’t you there?” Callie asked.

  “If I were there when it happened, suffice it to say I wouldn’t be here,” he said.

  “But you do know how it happened?”

  “Why are you so keenly interested in such a morbid blot on our world’s timeline?” Hal asked.

  Callie shrugged. “I guess I’ve always thought if we knew how it happened, then someone could figure out how to reverse it.”

  Hal took a deep breath. “I’m afraid those that have gone on have gone on for good.”

  “No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I mean,” Callie said, “I mean, make the land livable again. It’s only a matter of time before the last Atmo city falls, right?” The headache gnawed at her once more, but she closed her eyes to focus on battling it back.

  “Ah, there we have a noble endeavor, indeed,” Hal said, offering a sad smile. “As best I understand, the Great Overload was a construction of the Elders, whose antidote—if ever there was one—has been lost to time.”

  “Oh.” Callie’s shoulders fell in disappointment.

  “But, just because we don’t know doesn’t mean we can’t find out,” Hal said, nodding until she mirrored the motion.

  Dayus entered the room with two other elderly men, carrying Ras’ limp form at waist height. “Sir, where would you like this deposited?”

  “On the fainting couch,” Hal said. “That feels appropriate.”

  With Ras draped over the furniture, the men nearly exited the room before Hal called out to them, “I do believe it to be well past time for supper, Dayus. If you would be so kind as to prepare something for Miss Tourbillon and myself to enjoy in the study, I would be most obliged.”

  Dayus nodded, then promptly exited the room.

  Callie stared at Ras’ limp form before turning back to Hal. “What about him?”

  “If he rouses, we’ll have a third plate made up,” Hal sa
id, “but for the meanwhile, you look like you could use a good story.”

  The snap returning Ras’s left arm into its socket brought him back to consciousness with a scream. He shot up from the fainting couch in Hal’s parlor.

  “Would you care for some painkillers?” Dayus asked as he knelt next to the couch.

  “Yes!” Ras said, still half screaming. “For the love of corn that is a…that is a…yes to painkillers, please.” The words didn’t come out of his mouth exactly how his brain had formed them.

  The door from the hallway corridor opened and in walked Halcyon Napier. Ras’ blurred vision cleared enough to see Hal towering over him. Dayus rose to leave, and Ras attempted to stand but immediately fell back down on the couch.

  “No. Please. Sit,” Hal said with a touch of sarcasm.

  Ras looked about and realized it was fully daylight outside. “Where’s Callie?” Ras demanded.

  A voice spoke directly behind him. “I’m right here, Ras. I’ve been here all night,” she said.

  Ras whipped his head around to see her and had to steady himself for a moment as the room spun. She sat in a nearby armchair with one of Hal’s books sitting open in her lap.

  “Yes, we had a riveting discourse over your disjointed body,” Hal said, “She’s quite the curious one.”

  “Dayus mentioned painkillers,” Ras said, feeling nauseated.

  “I believe he has already supplied those. He was likely asking retroactively for permission. They’re quite strong. I’m sure you’ll find your footing soon enough,” Hal said.

  “I was telling Hal how you procured a ship so quickly,” Callie said.

  “Oh, were you?” Ras said, concern creeping into his voice. For all her merits, Callie could be a bit of a storyteller and the truth didn’t always interfere with the details.

  “Who knew you would save an entire orphanage and receive a vessel in return?” Hal said, amused. “Funny how you didn’t mention you lacked a ship when we spoke last.”

  Ras turned and shot an incredulous look back at Callie, who proudly smiled, then returned his attention back to Hal. “My dad taught me that someone else should toot your horn. Wait, that’s wrong,” Ras said, feeling the effects from the medicine.

  “Sage advice either way,” said Hal. “I’m impressed with your tenacity. It will serve you well in The Wild. Is your collection tank amply sized?”

  “It is so ample,” Ras said. “Am I getting worse? I feel like I’m getting worse. My fingers feel…backwards.”

  Callie interrupted. “Maybe you should lie back down.”

  Hal turned to address Callie. “Miss Tourbillon, have you had time to practice with the device?”

  “I think I’m getting the hang of it,” she said. “What do you call it?”

  “It doesn’t have a name. Very rare. An old friend made it for me.”

  “Whassat?” Ras asked.

  Callie produced a brass sphere about the size of a snow globe from beneath the book. There were three holes where she inserted her thumb and first two fingers, activating the device. From within came a high-pitched whine of gears, and from the top, an arrow attached to a metal rod lifted. The arrow clicked into place and turned slightly to the left and downward, pointing east.

  “It’s a compass that follows the trail to the mountain pass into The Wild,” Callie said.

  “It reads the trace amounts of the element on the wind that comes from there,” Hal added.

  Ras stared wide eyed at it the way a drunken toddler would. “Wow,” he said, over-enunciating. “Can I try?”

  “That wouldn’t be wise, Ras. The device attunes itself to its user and another’s touch might cause it to stop working properly for Callie,” Hal said.

  Ras nodded solemnly. “Don’t touch the shiny. Got it.”

  “Precisely. Don’t touch the shiny,” Hal agreed as though Ras had just divulged a great secret.

  “How long will he be like this?” Callie asked.

  “Days, months, thirty more minutes…these things are hard to say.” Hal winked at her. “Dayus is preparing breakfast as we speak. Can’t send you off on an empty stomach, now can we?”

  “No, we cannot,” Ras said in agreement, looking up at the ceiling as though Hal were standing on it.

  “If you excuse me, I’ll have Dayus fetch you both when breakfast is ready.” With that, he exited the room.

  “Ras, are you all right?” Callie asked.

  “Aside from my arm attempting to exit my body, never better.” He slumped on the fainting couch, looking at Callie upside down. “How you doin’?” He frowned. “That came out wrong.”

  She looked a bit flustered. “It’s just a lot to take in. Hal told me so many stories last night.”

  Ras righted himself. “What kinda stories?”

  “About The Wild. I think we might have gotten ourselves in over our heads.”

  “We’ll be fine,” he said before slumping. “When I have two working arms I can sink entire cities,” Ras said. “I’m…dangerous. But I promised to save Verdant, protect you, and bring you with me. We’re in this thick as…thick as…butter.”

  “Thieves, Ras. Thick as thieves,” Callie corrected.

  “Or butter. Look it up. It’s a thing.” He inspected his fingernails, biting one. “I’m sure of it.” Not caring for its taste, he made a face. “So what’s in The Wild?”

  “Pockets of frozen time, for one. That’s what he wants us to collect, Ras.”

  “That would make a great birthday present,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Why is that?”

  “‘Surprise, little Timmy, now you get an extra long birthday!’ Kids will go nuts over it.”

  “More like, ‘Surprise, little Timmy, now you’re stuck in time as the rest of the world ages around you until the sun explodes,’” Callie countered.

  “That sounds considerably less marketable.”

  “I don’t want to get frozen in time,” she said, looking legitimately worried.

  This sobered up Ras. “I won’t let that happen, okay? We stick together, and I have absolutely zero plans to get frozen in time forever. That breaks promises number one and three, plus it keeps me from number two, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Is that a page turner?” Ras pointed to her lap.

  “I’ve just been admiring the illustrations. Hal wrote it,” she said.

  “He definitely has enough time on his hands. What did he say was in The Wild?”

  “Elders that aren’t frozen in time pockets—”

  Dayus opened the door and announced that breakfast was served. Callie helped Ras to his feet, careful not to aggravate the mending arm as the pair shuffled toward the door.

  “So when did you become a cliff-diver?” Callie said, teasing.

  “That was my first time, if you’ll believe it,” Ras said, missing the jab. He turned to Dayus as they passed him, “What’s this mesid…medic…medi…drug called?”

  Dayus responded with a word Ras didn’t understand and most likely couldn’t pronounce when not under its effects.

  “Fun.”

  Hal sat at the end of a long wooden table with twenty place settings. Including Ras and Callie, only eight seats were occupied, and the other four crew members that Ras had not yet met were all older than Hal, looking to be either in their seventies or eighties.

  Ras giggled slightly when he saw prunes in a bowl. He caught himself and stopped, tucking his lips between his teeth to avert a smile. The effects of the medicine slowly began ebbing away as he took in the smells of the food on the table. Toast, eggs, bacon, more eggs, toast with butter, and something that Ras figured to be yet even more eggs in an unfamiliar format were laid out before them. It was apparent that Dayus’ cooking repertoire was limited, and thus Ras assumed one of the empty seats formerly belonged to their late cook.

  Ras was grateful to have some protein in his diet for a change and he filled his plate with scrambled eggs, two pieces of bacon, and a piece of
buttered toast. He assumed Dayus knew where to find the rare mountaintop farms.

  “So, Hal,” Ras said around a bite of toast. “How did you stop Bravo Company from attacking?”

  Hal smiled. “I sent word to The Collective I was on Verdant.”

  “Why would that stop sky pirates?” Callie asked.

  “Not every member of The Collective wears a uniform,” Hal said, “and they have a keen interest in knowing what I know.”

  “Then why are sky pirates fighting a war against The Collective?” Ras asked.

  “Have you heard any news of Bravo Company fighting in that war?” Before letting it sink in, he changed the subject. “So, Ras. Tell me about Verdant.”

  Ras choked on the mouthful of eggs he had overzealously stuffed into his mouth. “But, Bravo Company…”

  “Verdant,” Hal said, his stare challenging Ras to continue inquiring about the sky pirates.

  “Ah, well…It was built in The Bowl about eighty years ago because The Bowl trapped Energy naturally—”

  “I’m not looking for a history, my boy,” he said with a chuckle. “I am history. I’m more than familiar with how things came to be in the last century.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Quite all right. What are the people like?” Hal asked, inspecting the toast and selecting a piece.

  “Well, people like to talk a lot. Catch up on things they missed while out on collection runs. People move there and stay, I guess because they like it there. I…don’t really know how it’s different from the rest of the world,” Ras admitted.

  “Are the people happy?”

  Ras had to think. “When not bombarded by sky pirates? I remember when I was little, people laughed more, but when you’re little people tend to hide the sad things from you. But since The Winnower put a lot of wind merchants out of work…we make do.”

  Hal looked over to Callie, “What about you? What do you think of the people?”

  She sheepishly smiled. “I…I don’t know.”

  “Come now, you must have an opinion,” he said.