“Seems awfully close,” said Sheridan. Falcon was thinking the exact thing.
“No. We’re safe here.” Gertie sounded uncertain. “He doesn’t know where to begin his search. As long as we don’t draw any attention to ourselves, we’re in no danger.”
Gertie had just finished spewing his last word when the water rose into a wave fifteen feet high.
“Oh no!” Sheridan ran after Hiromy, who now stood enveloped knee-deep in the water. She waved her hands, and the water whirled and rose even higher.
Sheridan reached her just before she increased the height.
“What’s wrong?” asked Hiromy, oblivious to what she’d done. “I just wanted to make the water dance. It was so sad and alone.”
“Get out of the water, you fools!” hissed Gertie.
Falcon watched from behind the bushes with sinking spirits. Sheridan had pulled Hiromy out of the water and back behind cover, but Falcon doubted that was enough. There was no way that the men from the fort had not seen the water tower. Not only had it been unnaturally high, the splash it had created had sent loud ripples emanating through the water.
“You were supposed to be watching her!” Gertie was visibly furious. “It would be a miracle if they didn’t see her wielding!”
“I’m sorry,” said Hiromy. Her lips trembled, and she began to cry into Sheridan’s shirt.
“Let’s get back. I must report this to the cap’n!”
The walk back to the camp was much quieter than before. Besides Hiromy’s regretful sobs, nothing was audible. Falcon doubted she even knew what exactly she’d done wrong. She was simply crying because she understood enough to know that she had messed up yet again.
Sheridan, who had done a superb job at ignoring Falcon before, finally broke his icy silence.
“I just looked away for a split second,” he said regretfully. The way he spoke, it sounded as if he wanted Falcon to reassure him that everything would be fine. He couldn’t do that. The truth was, Falcon didn’t know if things would go well or not. All he knew was that they had more than enough troubles as it was. They didn’t need to add to it by having one of Armeen’s enemies coming after them. Though he had no lost love for Armeen, he knew that their fates were, whether he liked it or not, momentarily intertwined. If the pirate captain became entangled in a battle with this Ferenzie, it would take days or even weeks to defeat Armeen’s foe. That was time they didn’t have. With every passing moment, the Suteckh threat increased. He could feel it with every fiber of his being.
~~~
Aya and Armeen stepped into a large carriage that had had its roof completely torn off. At the top, a metal hook that held a triple-braided rope had been attached to it. The fancy curved lines outside the white carriage told her that it had belonged to someone of wealth: royalty, or perhaps a noble.
He whistled once, and the carriage began to ascend.
“Don’t worry,” assured Armeen. “We use the sturdiest carriages. We’re completely safe.”
Aya smiled, trying not to show her discomfort. She wasn’t the slightest afraid of the carriage breaking under their weight. What did scare her were heights. It was a fear she had always carried with her, despite her best efforts to overcome it.
Fortunately, in seconds the carriage stopped moving and she stepped off onto wooden planks. Nervously, she held onto the oak wood railings, making it a point not to look down.
The children, who had earlier called out at Armeen, embraced him. Like the adults, they shouted thousands of questions at him.
Their words became a distant echo in the back of Aya’s head as she took in the sight with awe. From the bottom it had been hard to see, but now, from up here, she had a firsthand look at the wondrous village. Dozens of sturdy bridges connected countless trees to make an intricate system of paths and intersections. Some of the bridges led up to even higher section of the trees. Some of the trunks had been cut open and doors had been attached to them, essentially making them small homes. At other spots, entire wooden huts, much better looking than the ones on the ground, had been built. Many of them had windows where people could be seen going about their business.
What amazed Aya the most was the fine detail of the work. Like a complex puzzle that had been completed, everything looked completely safe and in place. There wasn’t a single board, nail, or plank out of place. Whoever had constructed this village was obviously an exceptionally experienced craftsman. And even though she was used to living in a large city, she found herself enjoying the rustic feeling of the place.
“Who built this?” she asked once the children had scattered away.
“I did,” said Armeen matter-of-factly.
“
You
?” She was certain he was jesting. Armeen was much too young to have created something this grand. Where would he have found the time and the skills? No, this was surely the work of a patient, age-experienced master, something Armeen could not possibly be. “I’m serious. Who did this?”
“I’m also being serious. I did.”
“Fine. Don’t tell me, then.”
Armeen shrugged indifferently and motioned for her to follow him. They walked past dozens of people. Many of the men were carrying planks up a sloped bridge. She took this as a sign that they were expanding, making their home in the trees larger. A number of women cooked outside their homes over an open fire. Many of the kids ran around, playing with a number of balls. Despite the extremely wide walkways, she couldn’t help but feel a bit scared for them.
“They’re perfectly safe,” said Armeen, noticing her discomfort. “The railings I built for them will hold.”
She nodded and continued to follow in silence until they arrived at a cabin that looked unlike any other she’d seen thus far. This one had no windows and, like a layer of bark, completely surrounded a thick tree. It had no roof.
Armeen pushed the door and held it open, which Aya took as a sign to go in.
The place was simple enough. In fact, it reminded her of Armeen’s
Gold Chaser
quarters in more ways than one. There was a small bed against the wall that looked as if it had never been slept on. A desk, much smaller than the one on the ship, rested beside it. She walked around the circumference of the tree. Large holes had been cut into it, making room for hundreds of neatly arranged books. They were arranged according to color. There was an entire line of red-leather bound books, followed by green ones, black ones, and so on.
Armeen took out a yellow-stained parchment and handed it to Aya. “I think this is it.”
She examined the map with great interest. Indeed this was the map written by the Linius, the famous Master Record Keeper from Missea. Once, she’d read that the man had collected maps from around Va’siel and had himself mapped his hometown and surrounding areas. She knew exactly what to look for.
While she searched, Armeen drank from his many bottles of wine. After about twenty minutes, he slumped against the wall. His cheeks were slightly rosy and his feet wobbly.
“There!” She pointed at the straight golden-colored line on the map that stretched from Missea to the Coral Sea. That had to be the hidden pass that Linius had found, it just had to be.
“I wonder why he never revealed the location,” slurred Armeen. “A shortcut like that could shave days, even weeks off travel. If you hadn’t discovered his method of mapmaking, the pass would have gone undiscovered for who knows how many more years.”
“You’re amazing,” said Armeen. He stared directly into Aya’s eyes, and, for a fraction of a second, she saw sadness in them. It wasn’t the first time she had noticed it. She sensed it before when they were alone in his quarters. It was faint, and to anyone else it might have gone unnoticed but not to her. Then, quite suddenly, Armeen grabbed her by her shoulders and leaned in, going for her lips.
Her heart beat faster as she moved her head to the side. The captain’s kiss missed, landing on her cheek and leaving behind a lingering scent of alcohol.
He breathed in heavily and, still clutching her arms, took a step back. “My apologies. It’s that Rohad Falcon, right?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “What am I saying? Of course you have feelings for him. It’s as clear as day.”
“That’s not it.” Aya excelled at garnering tidbits of information and discerning a bigger picture. The more she stared at Armeen, the clearer his story unfolded before her.
“What was her name?” she said.
“Whose name?” asked Armeen, taking a seat on the rocking chair. He looked up at the leaves above.
“What was the name of the girl I remind you of? When you see me, I sense you searching for her. Was she also a slave?”
His eyes grew wide. “How did you know?”
“Back in the
Gold Chaser
you found every excuse imaginable not to read, even though you have dozens of books.” She motioned to the books inside the tree. “Usually people categorize their book alphabetically, but you categorized yours by color.” She met his eyes. “You don’t know how to read, do you?”
“Very few slaves are taught in the ways of literature.” He breathed in heavily. “Is that all it took to give it away?”
“No. You also have beds, but never use them. The one here hasn’t even been slept on because you’re used to sleeping on the floor.”
Aya stopped talking. She could continue on with more odd intricacies, but what good would that do? She’d proven her point. Besides, he had yet to mention the girl that she reminded him of.
It took a long time, but finally he spoke. He recounted his story as she listened silently. He told her how he was born into slavery. He would work from sunup to sundown. It was there that he was taught carpentry. Even as a child, he was expected to keep up with the grown men, so he worked hard and learned quickly.
Suddenly, Aya realized Armeen had been telling the truth. He had indeed built most of the village himself. His training as a slave had ensured that.
“She was a slave in Ferenzie’s slave camp as well,” continued Armeen. “Seeing you reminds me so much of her. She was strong. You should have seen that lassie. The way she stood up for everyone was inspiring. And despite being blind, she could fight with the best of them.”
Aya found her interest suddenly peaked.
A blind girl who could fight?
There couldn’t be too many of those.
“What was her name?” she asked.
Armeen looked up at her with wary eyes. “Keira.”
Chapter 16
“What did you say?” asked Aya.
“Keira. That was her name.”
She couldn’t believe it. She had met Keira on her previous mission to Sugiko. She did recall Nanake saying that Keira had been lost for a few years and that she never spoke of her time away, but Aya had assumed that Keira had been hiding in the woods. Even stranger, Armeen didn’t seem to know that Keira was a princess. Well, empress now. Aya herself had aided her in reclaiming her rightful place as Empress of Sugiko.
“How did you escape?” Aya asked, opting not to tell him that there was a strong chance she knew the person he was speaking about. Getting his hopes up falsely would only be cruel.
But Armeen didn’t answer. Obviously exhausted, he crumpled to the floor and fell in a deep sleep, his snores echoing loudly off the walls.
Aya undid the sheet from the bed and carefully set it over the captain.
“Dream well. I’m sure you’ll find who you’re looking for soon enough,” she whispered as she closed the door and walked outside.
~~~
The next few hours passed in a blur. The first chance she had, Aya got on the carriage and headed back down to the jungle floor. Sitting beside a hut, she went over the navigation book she had borrowed from Armeen, trying to figure out the weather patterns along the sea. Surely with a little studying, she could chart out the best course of travel. However, she found it impossible to concentrate. Before, the task of finding the shortcut and getting to Missea had kept her mind from focusing on her family. But now? She found that she did not have anything to keep those thoughts from invading her mind.
The images of her father flashed in her mind, reminding her that she was not a Ladrian, but a Suteckh like her sister, the Blood Empress.
She had spent so much time thinking her sister was dead, and now part of her wished she were. Selene had been twisted from that innocent sweet girl she knew as a child to a ruler of destruction. How was she supposed to get past countless years of brainwashing?
Sensing the hopelessness of the situation caused her eyes to burn as slow tears fell from her eyes.
Selene? What have they done to you? What have they done?
~~~
Falcon was surprised to find Aya sitting alone by a hut when they walked back into the camp. Her eyes were red, almost as if she had just finished crying.
“What happened?” she asked, wiping her eyes. She looked from Sheridan to Falcon.
Gertie shoved his finger at Hiromy’s direction. “
She
alerted Ferenzie of our location!”
“We don’t know that yet,” countered Sheridan as Hiromy stared down at the ground.
Gertie simply groaned and headed up to the trees, no doubt to report to Armeen what had occurred.
When the captain came back, he did not look nearly as angry as Falcon thought he was going to be. If anything, he looked rather jubilant and well rested.
“If what Gertie said is true,” the captain declared, “then we must make haste across the sea at once. If we leave tomorrow morning, we may yet make it to the pass on time.”
That was certainly good news for Falcon. He yearned to get to Missea as soon as possible.
“What about Ferenzie?” asked Aya.
“Don’t fret about him. Even if he saw the water tower, it would take him quite some time to locate us. Remember that I said his tracking skills are sub-par. Besides, we know not if he even saw the water tower. We’ll leave at first light tomorrow. That will give me more than enough time to return and see to my people.”
The news that Ferenzie might have spotted them did not hinder the spirits in the camp. The main reason for this was the newfound supply of food that Armeen had brought.
Faith, along with the women from the kitchen, brought out plate after plate of food. Children ran around the camp and up into the trees, carrying food to the people above.
“They certainly don’t seem worried,” said Falcon. He sat beside his group of friends on the ground. Hiromy and Sheridan were sharing a plate of drumsticks and peanuts together. Aya had a full plate of food, but she barely picked at it. Faith carried a deep bowl with a variety of herbs.
“That’s because they have complete faith in their captain,” said Faith.
Falcon sighed silently.
Not Faith too.
It was bad enough Aya saw stars every time she was with Armeen.
“I think he’s hiding something,” he said, taking a bite out of the buttery pichion drumstick. “I heard Gertie saying something about him being with Ferenzie once. I think that perhaps they were once partners, until Armeen stole from him, that is.”
“He stole himself,” said Faith.
“What?” Falcon looked at Faith in confusion.
“I spoke to his mother when we were preparing the food. She was a slave when she gave birth to Armeen, which meant that he too was a slave.”
Aya nodded knowingly, and Falcon flinched back, taking a deep breath.
Apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on.
Faith took a small bite from a piece of crunchy lettuce before continuing. “He escaped soon after, but he didn’t stop there. He came back and freed hundreds of slaves, including his mother. Since then he’s been going around freeing slaves from all over Va’siel and bringing them here, where they can live in peace.”
“That’s bad news for you, Hyatt,” said Sheridan with a smirk.
“
Me
?”
“Yes. You’ve been looking for a reason to hate him, but it’s hard to hate a pirate who steals people to give them their freedom.”
“I don’t want to hate him,” lied Falcon. The truth was that Sheridan was right. He had hoped that the secret Armeen was something less… well, noble. But as luck would have it, he seemed to be a bona fide hero.
The thought that his sense of judgment was so terrible brought a smile to Falcon’s face. He didn’t mean to, it just spread across his face unwillingly, fueled by the years and years of times he’d been wrong about so many people: Professor Kraimaster, Braiden, Lao, and now Captain Armeen.
What’s wrong with me?
The more he thought about it, the more comical it became, and he found himself chuckling under his breath.
“That’s a first,” said Sheridan, looking down at Falcon’s emblem with eyes wide. “It looks like Hemstath’s rubbing off on you.”
He looked down at his emblem and saw that indeed his emblem had taken a slight white color of holy. A warm feeling spread through him as he and Faith’s gazes met, and once again he chuckled, no longer sure what exactly he was so happy about.
Everyone in the group, including Aya, looked at him in confusion for a while, then they too broke out in contagious laughter.
There, under the stars, the five friends rejoiced and told stories, making the night pass in a blur of strange bliss.
~~~
The next morning they trekked through the jungle and boarded the
Gold Chaser
before the suns had even reached the top of the mountain. More jubilant than he’d felt in a long time, Falcon was still feeling the effects of the small control of holy wielding he had experienced the night before.
The fact that Aya was no longer locked up in Armeen’s cabin helped raise his spirits.
Faith, Aya, and Hiromy had spent most of the walk behind everyone else, lost in conversation. And now, aboard the ship, they were doing the same. The trio stood at the front of deck, snickering quietly among themselves. For a while, at least, things seemed to be relatively back to normal. Except for the fact that he and Aya hadn’t really spoken much other than that morning when she had yelled at him.
“We’re making good progress,” called Armeen. The captain walked across the deck, his footsteps echoing loudly on the old wood. “I knew that we would be there.” He stood at the front of the ship and spread his hands, letting the fresh breeze flow around his body.
“Hey, Hyatt,” called Sheridan. Like Falcon, he was bent over cleaning the wood panels with a small brush. “Can you believe that guy? He might be some great liberator, but he’s still a pest. He could have us do anything, but instead he has us help with the lowest of the jobs here.” He pointed to the dragon insignia on his chest. “We’re Rohads, not some peons.”
“He’s not too bad,” said Falcon.
Sheridan stopped scrubbing and looked at him suspiciously.
Without saying a word, Falcon looked down and continued to work.
I can’t believe I just said that.
What was he thinking? Armeen was the same man who had been robbing him of the time he could have spent with Aya, the same man who had made him clean decks. He couldn’t defend him now. But despite searching for something negative to say about him, nothing came to mind. Apparently the holy wielding had worked a bit too well.
He supposed that was good news. That could only mean that he was getting a step closer to controlling the chaos. Nonetheless, he remained quiet as he continued to work. Who knew what this holy energy would make him do next. Why, next time he might actually go on an Armeen-complimenting rant.
It was many hours later and dusk had begun to settle in when Gertie finally called out that land had come into view.
Falcon looked out at the horizon, struggling to see the land that Gertie was referring to. He searched aimlessly, but all he made out was dark water clashing and rising and falling against each other.
“It’s right in there.” Armeen handed Falcon the long spyglass he carried around his waist.
With it, Falcon managed to spot a small speck of gray and white in the vast sea.
“That’s the pass?” asked Falcon, doubtfully. The piece of land, if it could even be called that, looked barely big enough to hold a dozen people. He failed to see how that constituted a shortcut to Missea.
“Yes, at least that is what the young lassie, Aya, believes.” He looked over at Aya and gave her a long stare that Falcon did not like.
The
Gold Chaser
moved closer, and the small piece of land took a form. As Falcon had suspected, it wasn’t much to look at. It had a few white, sharp-edged rocks, some specks of sand, but nothing much beside that.
The Rohads, Armeen, and Faith got off and moved around the small island. Everyone else remained on board.
Aya got on her knees and began to brush away the sand.
“What does she search for? Treasure?” asked one of the pirates, his eyes twinkling with hungry anticipation.
No one answered, opting to watch Aya as she continued to brush away the sand.
There’s nothing there.
As the thought crossed his mind, a piece of metal revealed itself, embedded under the sand. A few wipes later and the squared rusted hatch came into view.
Everyone held their breath when their eyes fell on the insignia that had been burnt into the very metal. It rose from the hatch as if someone had fire wielded it with blue fire.
Even Sheridan, who was always ready with a comment, had fallen silent.
Falcon took in the oval shape with a cross in the middle with awe and fear. Even he recognized the insignia of the Onaga clansmen, a race of diabolical creatures that had been thought to have gone instinct over a century ago.
~~~
Melousa, Queen of the Orian warriors, took a large bite of the chunk of meat in her hands. She savored each salted bite. In her other hand she carried the entire leg of a lamb. In no time, all that was left was bare bone. She enjoyed eating, but consuming food was more of a necessity than pleasure. She stood over fourteen feet tall, with powerful legs that were long and easily six feet by themselves. A muscular figure like hers required an immense amount of energy.
She tossed the bones over to her two chileras, which flanked her at her throne, a piece of rock with another piece of rock behind it to lean on. The giant cat-like animals tore at the bones with a ravenous hunger. Usually, she would have fed them meat as well, but events had not been going well in her jungle-kingdom for some time now. Food was scarce, and more and more land was being lost every year.
“Damn imperials,” she cursed under her breath. The capital cities from across the ocean had been constantly poaching her land, looking for rare spices and animal fur. It didn’t matter how many she killed. The city fools kept on coming like a locust plague, intent on taking all her domain.
Melousa glared around her. There was a large collection of palm-leaved huts sloppily spread about. No one was inside any of the huts, however, for now was the time of the gauntlet. Every single one of her female warriors was expected to be outside, at the center of the village, to either watch or participate in the battles.
There had been no wars in many years, and this had become the only way to appease the savage nature of her warriors.
“Clete,” she called. A bronze-skinned warrior stood and walked to the battleground, which was nothing more than an oval clearing surrounded by long spikes. Many were the warriors who had met their end on those spikes, and Melousa was certain many more would follow. Whenever one of them died, she would not mourn them or give them a proper burial. To die in battle was to be weak and weakness was something the Orian warriors did not tolerate.