Read The Destiny (Blood and Destiny Book 4) Online
Authors: E.C. Jarvis
The Destiny (Blood and Destiny Book 4)
THE DESTINY
BOOK FOUR OF THE BLOOD AND DESTINY SERIES
BY E. C. JARVIS
Copyright ©
E.C. Jarvis 2016
All Rights
Reserved.
No
part of this book may be reproduced
in
any form, including photocopying, recording,
or
other electronic or mechanical methods – except
in
the case of brief quotations embodied
in
articles or reviews – without written
permission
by the author.
First edition
For Dave and
Bonnie.
Thanks also to
those who helped with their invaluable opinions along the road:
Dan C. Boutwell
Ian Jordan
Kat Hutson
Laurie Wetzel
Stephanie Ayers
This is a work
of adult Steampunk Fantasy. Possible triggers are present within the book
including but not limited to sex, murder, torture, and violence.
Colonel Gabriel Kerrigan straightened his
back to a stiff point and gripped the airship rail. He knew it was inane; the
line of military ships headed in their direction would hold only a few people
of higher rank than him, and those few would not care less if he displayed the
proper protocol or not, at least not at this distance. Regardless, his body was
so trained to respond that he couldn’t help it. He noticed his good friend and
trusted ally Lieutenant Tobin Saunders standing by his side, doing the same.
Sergeant Eddy Boswell appeared to be lounging against the rail of the pirate
airship. Boswell’s lack of similar reaction wasn’t a complete surprise, but it
irked him nonetheless.
The propellers of their
ship hummed as they whirred at an incredible pace. The line of military
airships dotted along the coast ahead of them all had huge balloon canopies
stretching toward the sky, holding them in the air. Their own ragged airship
was an oddity which would warrant military attention. A wayward pirate airship
with no balloon and a collection of odd occupants would need a miracle to slip
past unnoticed, and the only man capable of making them disappear was dead.
One Sky Force ship
broke free from the pack to take the lead over the others. Kerrigan recognized
it immediately. Despite being an army officer, not a Sky Force Marine, every
soldier worth his weight should know the finest airship in the entire fleet by
sight. The
Republic of Daltonia Eagle
.
“No pressure,” Larissa
said. She stood beside him, holding Holt’s hand in a vice-like grip. Her eyes
flashed with wild fear and something else, something Kerrigan sensed as her
sharp mind working to figure out a puzzle. She seemed adept at doing so, more
than he’d first assumed her capable.
“We’ve faced worse
odds,” Holt whispered to her.
Kerrigan stifled a
derisive snort. No doubt they had been through—and escaped—a great deal of
turmoil, but to face down a large proportion of the Daltonian military with no
weapons and no leverage? Those were not the sort of odds on which he’d dare
place a wager.
“I do have an idea.”
Larissa turned to face Kerrigan, her pale blue-grey eyes focusing on his.
“Let’s hear it, Miss
Markus,” he said, still sounding more authoritative than he’d truly intended.
It was as much ingrained in his psyche as the straight-back attention stance—not
an easy trait to unlearn, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to unlearn it.
“We’re your prisoners,”
she said as she straightened her own shoulders.
“Larissa,” Holt began.
She silenced him with a simple wave of the hand, her gaze never wavering from
Kerrigan’s. Then her eyes softened as she seemed to choose her words, still
putting together the puzzle pieces.
Fortunately, as soon as
she’d said it, he guessed her idea. It seemed a good plan, perhaps the only
plan with potential to achieve everything they wanted to achieve without
bloodshed. At least, without
much
bloodshed. But it would involve him
taking a final step beyond his rank, a twist of his loyalty. As much as he
disliked the President and the rash and downright unethical actions the man had
taken to secure his position, some part of him balked at the notion of going
rogue. It went against every fibre of his being. Did he really want to risk
throwing away a twenty-year career on a dubious attempt to change the fate of
the entire country, if not the world? It seemed an appallingly grandiose
concept for a lowly Colonel, and far too much weight to rest on one man’s
shoulders.
“Pretending we’re your
captives is the only way to avoid needless deaths,” Larissa said. “We don’t
have time to discuss it, so unless anyone has a better alternative, this is
what we’re going to do.” She paused for a moment, looking around at each face on
deck before turning back to address Kerrigan directly. “You can signal to the
ships that you have captured prisoners on the President’s orders. Did the
President order us to be executed immediately?”
“No, my orders were to
bring you to him directly.”
“Thank the Gods for
that. It will buy us some time to figure out the rest as we go along.”
“So we’re just going to
let them lock us up?” Cid growled from behind the wheel. His face couldn’t have
held an angrier scowl if he’d tried.
“We don’t have much of
a choice, Cid, unless you can engineer us some cannons and gunpowder… Even then,
I wouldn’t do it. I don’t want to go around killing people for doing their jobs
and following orders. That’d make us just as bad as the people we want to stop.”
She paused, looking out to sea at the plethora of vessels making their way
towards them. It wouldn’t be much longer before they were in range. “Tell me I
can trust you, please, Colonel. Promise me?”
He felt a tingling in
his fingertips and at the back of his neck. Promise to betray the President and
the oath he’d taken? Sure, not much to ask. He felt the eyes of his
subordinates burning between his shoulder blades, reminding him it wasn’t just
his life and future his choice would affect. One wrong step now would mean
punishment for them all, and on his head be it. No pressure.
“I will do what I can,”
he said, instantly regretting it. It was a cop-out, a weak reaction. Larissa’s
shoulders drooped in response. He suppressed an apology; no need to appear even
weaker. He could see the flash of fire running through Holt as his fists curled
into balls. If he were to attack, so be it; Kerrigan felt ready for a fight.
Although he’d been waiting for Holt to attack him again ever since the first
time they’d fought, it had never come, and he wasn’t sure why.
“Sir, they’re
signalling,” Saunders said.
Kerrigan raised the
spyglass and looked out to see that the lead ship, the
RDS Eagle
, had
finally broken away from the pack. At the bow, the Captain stood staring back
at him with his spyglass, and a subordinate made exaggerated arm signals. He
watched carefully, accepting the instructions, and then returned a message of
his own, aware of Holt’s intent gaze. The ex-Sky Force Captain would know
precisely what Kerrigan projected.
“They have asked us to
hold position while they come about and take the ship.”
“All right, we’ll do
that,” Larissa said. “I suppose we had better let you tie us up. We don’t look
much like prisoners right now.”
“Very well.”
He led the others to
the back of the ship and asked Saunders and Boswell to bring rope. Holt
whispered something to Larissa and disappeared below deck, reappearing a few
minutes later.
Whilst he had no issue
tying the men of Larissa’s crew up, especially Holt, it grated on him to bind
the rope around Larissa’s wrists. Her hands were small and delicate, and her
wrists were thin and wiry. He didn’t doubt he could happily tie up a woman if
she were a true criminal, but ever since he’d met Larissa, she hadn’t fit into
that mould. Now that he knew the truth—that she was a direct descendant of the
Empirical line and hardly the diabolical, evil wench he’d first taken her to be—the
thought of tying her up, even as a ruse, made him feel sick.
He wrapped the length
of rope around twice, tucking it between her wrists in the middle, and pulled
the rope into a slipknot, hiding it beneath her wrists and giving her just
enough slack to escape if she wanted to.
“Tie me up too,” Sandy,
Saunders’ cousin, said as she joined them, still dressed in her robe, having
insisted on wearing it after it had dried out. She looked a mess. Kerrigan still
felt angry at Saunders for dragging her along on a military mission and putting
her life at risk, though now that he knew of her capabilities, he understood
why. What he didn’t understand was why she would want to be included as a
prisoner with people who were likely to end up hang for the crime of piracy, at
the very least.
“Why, Sandy?” Saunders
asked.
“Because I know you’ll
get into trouble for taking me along. I can already see your superior officer disapproves
of me. I’d hate to think what they’ll do when they find out you brought me
along and technically failed in your mission.”
“Don’t worry about me.
We will drop you off as soon as we get over land, and you can go straight back
to Aditona.”
“No, I’m not going back
there. It’s dull and pointless. This is far more entertaining and I’m sure I
can help.” Sandy winked at Larissa.
Kerrigan found his nose
wrinkling up. She wasn’t in the military, so he couldn’t presume to order her
about. From the shocked expression on Larissa’s face, she must have been having
the same thoughts.
“You realize we may
die?” Larissa said.
“From the stories I’ve
heard, you’ve escaped death quite expertly a number of times. Besides, I think
I might have cracked your Cleric’s disappearing-stone trick you were telling me
about.”
“Now, that
would
be helpful.”
“Sandy,” Saunders began
in an exasperated tone.
“Don’t leave me, sweet
cheeks,” Eddy called to her, feigning a dramatically sad face.
“That settles it. No
arguing, I’m going.” She turned and held her wrists behind her back, glancing
at Kerrigan over her shoulder expectantly.
He sighed and tied her
up in the same manner as Larissa. He could only hope he wouldn’t come to regret
it.
The
Eagle
came
into view, drawing alongside them, its massive canopy casting a long shadow
over the deck. The entire vessel dwarfed their small ship by at least four
times their size. An impressive array of weapons greeted them, cannons sticking
out of every port, rows of Marines with brand new rifles aimed directly at them,
and shining short-swords hanging from their belts. The pristine ship consisted
of highly polished wood and metal glinting in the afternoon sun, not a speck of
dirt nor a rope out of place. It made him swell with pride at the sight. Despite
being an army officer, not Sky Force, he couldn’t dispute the sense of being
part of the ship, as much as the entire military, and it a part of him. Was he
seriously contemplating breaking away from it all for the sake of a girl?
“Prepare to be
boarded,” one of the men from the
Eagle
yelled, snapping Kerrigan’s
thoughts apart. Several grappling hooks flew across the distance, slapping into
the deck of the ship and catching on the side rail. As the two ships drew
together, he noticed Larissa leaning into Holt, resting her head on his chest.
Holt’s lips brushed against her forehead briefly before he noticed Kerrigan
watching. The glare he received might have sent a chill down his spine if he
didn’t have the upper hand in the situation.
The two ships bumped
against one another and a handful of Marines jumped on board. Kerrigan ignored
them, his eyes busy scanning for the senior officer. One man appeared through
the line of men on the
Eagle
—the Admiral, his rank denoted by the shape
of his hat and the insignia on his breast. Kerrigan didn’t recognize him, but
he knew the man by name, as did most people in Daltonia. The man at the helm of
the country’s finest ship was known by even the lowliest household—Admiral
Carson Vries.
Admiral Vries stepped
up on the rail of his ship, his black, knee-length boots polished so intensely
they glistened with the black metal of the cannons. He strode across and jumped
down onto the pirate ship, scanning the faces of every one of the occupants
until his gaze settled upon Kerrigan.
“Care to explain?”
Vries barked, his black moustache barely moving as he spoke.
“Admiral Vries, I am
Colonel Gabriel Kerrigan of the President’s Elite Guard. This is Lieutenant
Tobin Saunders and Sergeant Edward Boswell.” He gestured towards his two men in
turn. “These are our prisoners. They have been captured on the direct orders of
the President. We would be grateful if you could assist us in delivering them
directly to him.” He gave a general wave of his hand towards the rag-tag group
of prisoners standing together and looking utterly dejected. Although
Kerrigan’s uniform had long since been lost and his current outfit had him
looking more like a penniless merchant than a Colonel, he hoped his name would
be well known enough to hold sway with the Admiral.
“Colonel Kerrigan?”
Vries repeated.
“Yes.”
“Colonel Kerrigan is
dead.”
A silence followed, long
and uncomfortable, broken only by the sound of the slow-turning propellers which
held them steady in the air.
“Well, I can assure
you, whatever report has been filed stating I am dead is a mistake. As you can
see, I am not.”
“The President gave the
announcement himself. The capital held a day of mourning. The papers reported
it weeks ago. Commander Roper, take these men and women and place them in the
brig.”
“All of them, sir?”
“All of them.”
“Aye, sir.”