“
Well, that is a matter of some shame. Prince Raserion has drafted all of Breakwater's
good
mechanics, and, well, her engines won't start,” she told us regretfully, pointing down at the ship under her feet. “I usually tune her up myself, but this time, I just can't get past the problem.”
“
You loaded our supplies and the rust pebble doesn't run? Shocking,” Dylan sniped, leaning against a dock post.
Kyle practically jumped out from behind me, like a cat pouncing on a mouse. His eyes were wide with excitement. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him so enthused.
“Let me get in there! I mean, do you mind if I have a look?”
“
If you're a mechanic, by all means,” she invited, waving us onto the deck of the ship. She led Kyle to an open hatch that took them below decks. Before disappearing completely, she called out to us, “Please, make yourselves comfortable. If your friend is as good as he is excitable, we'll be underway within the hour.”
I stepped aboard, and Dylan followed, groaning with distaste. Sterling was still on the docks, looking off toward the keep on the water. He had never been the most talkative of guys, and now he was downright
mute. As much as I wanted to hate his face forever, the problems in my life overshadowed those with Sterling. His body language suggested that he was worried about Ruby. Was it a ruse to restore my confidence in him?
The thing was, I was worried about her too.
Hang in there, Ru. We'll be back for you soon.
“
Brendon Axton,” I murmured, looking over the harbor waters to the island keep. “If you let anything happen to her, any single thing, I'll light you up brighter than the stars.” My consolation was simply that he knew what I was capable of.
“
Sterling,” I said gently. He looked at me like he'd forgotten where he was, frowned at his feet, and stepped aboard the ship that would take us even farther away from her.
Chapter 11:
The Flying Fish
At two hundred feet in length, the ship was smaller than the other boats on the
Black Harbor and still larger than any floating vessel I'd been on. As if rowing canoes on Dragonfly Lake counted for anything. This one was eye-shaped, and fitted with a pair of bulky cabins topped with upper decks on either end of its length. A pair of twenty-foot metal masts obstructed the main deck in the middle, where I stood. Curiously, two horizontal poles intersected them at their full height, spanning nearly the width of the ship, but there was no sail that I could see.
On the rear of the ship,
I counted six pipes leading to steam stacks that twisted out of the hull like trumpets. The cargo hold was on that end too, as were the stalls for the horses. Dylan had called the ship ugly, but I found it strangely beautiful.
“
I don't like this,” Sterling said, peering over the side at the water below. The tide was kicking up and we were rocking and creaking against the docks.
“
You didn't have to come,” I chided.
“
Can you please take these blasted things off now?” Dylan swooped in, blocking my view of the rear deck. He held his wrists up and jangled them. He was still favoring his side, despite the wound having only reached just beneath the skin. “For pity's sake, I treated you better than this.”
Ire cracked my nerves.
“Don't! Don't you dare ever say that to me again.”
“
Fine,” he frowned at me, attempting to blow the long hair from his hazel eyes. “I won't. But neither will I be much use to you in my current state.”
I looked at the mass of supplies huddled near my feet. They wouldn't put themselves away.
“Fine!” I gave in, fishing the key from my pocket. “Why, why, of all people, did I get stuck with you two?”
Sterling glanced at me
, then away.
Dylan glared.
“The loathing is mutual.”
I didn't want to touch him, but I had to. My skin crawled, despite his beauty. I grabbed his hands, one at a time, twisting the iron key in each lock, freeing his wrists. He pulled his arms away from me, seeming to hate the contact as much as I did.
“Thank you,” he said inclining his head and forcing a smile. Each of his hands worked at rubbing the other wrist. “You see, some of us retain our good manners despite traveling with backbiters.”
And there it was. We weren't even out of the harbor and I already wanted to kill him.
Before I could act on my desires, the boat groaned and trembled with the vibrations of a working engine. Muted cheering wafted up from below decks where Kyle had no doubt worked more of his machine magic.
When they resurfaced, they both looked a little
more than pleased. Kyle's sleeves were rolled up and there were splashes of grease on the front of his shirt. He and Carmine's hands were both covered in the stuff.
“
You got it running?” I asked hopefully.
“
Just needed some love,” he grinned.
“
Your friend is talented,” said Carmine. “I hadn't thought of stripping the couplers and using them to bypass the auxiliary lines.”
“
Just going off a hunch,” Kyle said, stuffing his greasy hands into his pockets.
“
And he's modest too,” she said, giving him a smile so charming it nearly made him blush. “We can take to the water at your command.”
After hefting our supplies into the rear cabin cargo hold, we followed Carmine to the front of the ship. A door led us down a narrow hallway. It was constructed of
honey-toned wood, floor to ceiling. We passed three doors on either side, entered a fifth at the very end of the hall, and found ourselves at the helm. It was a wide, triangular room, and the front two walls were glass. Facing the windows was a raised desk the shape of a horseshoe. Dials, levers, switches, gauges, and a great round wheel filled its surface. Behind us, the single solid wall was covered in dozens of maps, plastered one over the other to form haphazard wallpaper.
“
We should be underway,” Carmine said to me. “A storm is coming, and I'd like to clear the harbor before it reaches us.”
I looked around, confused. The five of us were the only people on board.
“Don't you have a crew?”
“
Don't need one. The whole ship is mechanized,” she said happily. “She's called the Flying Fish, and we're the only two that reap the rewards of ferrying.”
“
Ah," I said, absently. As she spoke, I drifted into my thoughts, barely comprehending her words. I may as well have been in a bubble, deaf to the world around me. A wave of dizziness rushed to my head and cleared. I’d been swept away by the demands of the past two days, and I hadn’t stopped to absorb the gravity of my situation. It was like breaking free of a fever and realizing you were outside in the cold instead of safe in your bed.
For a moment I swayed, wondering how I’d gotten to this point, and how it could possibly be reality.
We were on a boat, ready to cross the largest body of water I had ever seen. Our destination was unknown. Somehow, I was leading Expedition: Fix Kat's Messed Up Life. I hadn't wanted other people with me, but here they were.
My eyes focused, my hearing returned with sharp clarity.
“This is it,” I said to the guys. “This is your last chance to go home.” The reminder was meant as much for me as it was for them.
Dylan was looking out at the
angular swells of the blue-green water. “Some of us don't have a choice,” he grumbled over his shoulder.
“
Not a chance, Kat,” Kyle said, ignoring him. “I should be here.”
“
Sterling?” I asked.
“
None of us
should
be here,” he answered, frowning at Kyle. “I don't know how you found this place, or what you're doing here, but they took Ruby. Either I help you get her back, or I go home to wait and wonder if something had gone wrong. I've never been good at sitting on the sidelines.”
I felt horrible.
Congratulations, Ruby, you're Kat's best friend! As a prize, you get to be locked up in a foreign keep!
Remembering Carmine, I quieted my tone.
“Guys, this could be very, very dangerous. Are you sure?”
“
Yes,” Sterling said definitively, with Kyle nodding beside him.
Outside, an arm of Breakwater's bay was outstretched to the left. The approaching storm was darkening the sky and the sea below it. White caps
were forming in the distance. It was time to leave the security of land, and for that, I was exceptionally nervous.
“
Alright,” I said to Carmine, my even tone belying my fear. “Let's go.”
“
Hurrah,” said Dylan, deadpan.
“
Good!” said Carmine, sweeping to action at the controls of the ship. Her hands glided over the panels, twisting knobs, clicking switches, and pushing levers into position. The Flying Fish responded by vibrating and humming more dramatically as she went. “You know what they say about time and tide!”
“
Actually,” Kyle said, watching her with interest. “We don't.”
“
Time and tide kill indiscriminately,” she recited more cheerfully than the phrase deserved. Resting her left hand on the wheel, she used her right to push up a lever with a brown leather handle.
The Flying Fish's humming
rose to a grumble, and finally, a roar. The entire vessel rattled with such ferocity, I was nearly knocked from my feet. Sterling stumbled, crashing into the wall behind him. Kyle's hands shot out at his sides for balance. Instead of mirroring the fear on our faces, he was grinning like a kid at a carnival. Carmine didn't act as though the jostling of the ship was anything abnormal, and continued at her work.
Dylan, who was staring out the window, turned to look at us like we were a bunch of maladjusted imbeciles.
“It's only lift off.”
“
Lift off?” I repeated, hoping my hands weren't shaking too obviously. “Do you mean we're flying?”
“
If we weren't, she'd just be called the Fish,” Carmine said with a smirk. “Another reason I saved you from those other ships. Slow, archaic things.”
“Flight technology is illegal,” Sterling blurted, as though Haven’s laws applied everywhere.
Carmine laughed. “Very funny. So, this is your first time. No shame in it. Go have a look outside.”
Like children,
Kyle and I hurried out of the control room, down the hall and out onto the mid-deck. Sterling trailed behind us with far less enthusiasm.
Gouts of steam billowed from the tubes and horns at the rear of the ship. Water blasted out from beneath the hull, spraying the dock and
instigating the angry shouts of workers in the line of fire. We were climbing, rising steadily into the air.
I planted my palms on the rail of the deck, peering over the side. Mist showered my torso and I smiled, reveling in the thrill of a new experience. The blue water was being pushed away from us. The flat bottom of the ship was level with the walkways of the pier.
“Be careful!” Sterling barked at me from where he stood in the doorway of the cabin.
Kyle was beside me, laughing.
I rocked back on my heels, leaning away from the rail. “How high will we go?”
“
Carmine said she'll hover at six feet,” he told me, over the noise of the engines and the water.
“
Can you believe this?” I said with excitement, squeezing his arm. “We're flying, Kyle!”
He smiled at me as the Flying Fish reached her full height above the water and moved slowly out into the harbor. When we were safely away from the dock, I heard a great clicking sound come from the masts
as their two horizontal beams extended outward, beyond the width of the hull. They snapped into place and split in two, length-wise, the bottom half extending downward to reveal a sail that was held taut between them. The Flying Fish had wings.
As the wind filled the sails, aiding the engines to propel us forward
, I watched the land recede farther and farther away from us. There was a lump of fear in my throat that brought a tense giggle out of me. Turning, I walked to the other side of the deck, facing the open ocean and the storm. Together, they were dark, menacing, and churning with deadly beauty. I shrank in on myself, feeling tiny and insignificant. If land was out there, I couldn't see it. It struck me, how little I belonged here, among these titanic elements.
Why was it that I was standing on the deck of an incredible flying ship, embarking on a journey over
the sea for the first time in my life, all in the name of saving a mother I had never known, and
he
was the one that bubbled up in my mind? In Haven, I’d worked so hard to forget him and move on with my life. But I wasn’t in Haven anymore, I was in his world.
My barriers cracked and cr
umbled.
I wish I could say the sweet memories were the ones that showed themselves first. Maybe our kiss in a solitary tower, or him holding me in the firelight until my body stopped quaking with shivers. Or the way he told me that I was everything he’d always wished for.
Instead, I remembered him pinned to the ground by wicked branches of metal. I saw him calling out to me through flames of his own making, telling me to run. Regret stabbed at my chest.
Rune Thayer, where are you?
I’d seen hovering ships before, infinitely larger than the Flying Fish; military ships. Was he taken away on one of those? What did he think about when he looked at the water? Did he feel as small as I did? Control over fire couldn't save him from a hungry ocean.
I felt myself being pulled toward him, wherever he was.
I savored the insistent tug. It was a link that connected us, and I found comfort in that. The direction was out there, on the sea.
I wish I knew that meant he was alive.