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16 min read
It took several tries before the teacher’s words broke into Rush’s mind. “Rush? Are you listening?”
Rush blinked and looked up at the young woman standing before the class. She held an open textbook in one hand and her eyebrows drew together as she stared at him. Every student swiveled to watch his reaction.
He mumbled an apology, and after wearing the concerned expression for a few more seconds, the teacher resumed reading the passage. Rush followed the text as she read, but his mind drifted after the first two sentences, and his gaze strayed back up to the teacher. She was still young, barely older than Lewis.
Than Lewis was, anyway.
He looked away but avoided the book, abandoning any attempt to listen. Maybe he would never listen again.
As the sun passed its zenith, the teacher dismissed class. The students stood, gathering their belongings, some forming into clumps of chatter and others bolting out the door. Rush carried his books and weaved between desks and bodies. The excited conversations around seemed to him like birdsong in a thunderstorm.
Outside, friend groups reunited and began their walk home. Others bade farewell as they parted, each heading for his own town. The school sat on a dirt road connecting Hast and a nearby town; children from both towns attended.
Olive walked up beside Rush, and they started the journey to Hast. They fell to the back of the long line headed to town, Rush in no hurry to return. He stared at the ground the whole way. Olive looked up at him a few times, wanting to say something, but she remained silent. Good. He liked it better that way.
They crested a hill and Hast came into view. The townspeople carried on their daily duties. Women hauled water in buckets from the well, a few militiamen patrolled the perimeter, and children ran through the roads, some heading into their homes and others already engaged in games.
Rush raised his eyes to the activity for only a second before returning his gaze to the ground. How could they all be so…happy? So normal? His thoughts drifted to a forest clearing.
For a month, a face had haunted his mind. A face he could never—would never—forget. A blond head and a musket crack were forever etched on his mind like a printing press had stamped it on. He could never stop seeing the lifeless, broken body of his brother bleeding on the ground as the airship lifted away.
Their family had received many tearful visitors, bearing gentle words and gifts of sympathy. However, many families had lost a husband, brother, or son, and they quickly forgot Lewis amid the town-wide mourning of what the raid had cost them. They left Rush to resume normal life. But normal could never again be.
Rush was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Olive gasp. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him, shattering his reminiscing. She turned him to face south—back toward the school.
An airship hovered on the horizon.
Rush froze. His despair turned to icy fear.
They were back.
“Again?” His voice pleaded, and he hoped against all hope that the dark form he saw was something else. But wishing could not erase what he knew to be true.
Rush’s insides turned from ice to fire. If these raiders thought they could come back for more, they were sorely mistaken. He would make them pay ten times what they had cost his town.
His face hardened, and he dropped his bag of books. Olive reached out to stop him. He was already sprinting down the hill, heading toward town.
I need a gun.
Lewis’ gun.
As he reached the edge of town, the streets boiled with tension. Some ran to their homes, others sought shelter in the closest building, and some just stood and watched their approaching death with bleak acceptance.
Rush darted and dodged between people, running down alleys and around buildings, working toward his house. Olive’s light footsteps followed him.
He turned his head but kept his eyes forward. “Get to the print shop!”
Olive spoke between gasps. “I won’t let you fight alone! Lewis was my friend, too.”
Rush slowed and stopped in the middle of an empty road. He turned to face Olive. Her expression was steady, her jaw clenched, posture straight, and eyes brimming with forced courage. He nodded and continued running.
In his mind, he could see Ward at the helm of the airship, hungry attention taking in Hast, his musket already loaded for his next victim. Perhaps they had just left their mountain hideaway, or perhaps they were coming from another freshly raided town. If the latter, Rush wouldn’t rest until he returned all the stolen belongings to their rightful owners.
As he wondered from what town they might have come, Rush halted mid-stride and stared at the ground. Olive slammed into his back and he stumbled, hands shooting out to find balance. He regained his footing and stared at her.
She glanced around as if looking for what had stopped Rush. “What is it?”
Rush’s eyes went to the ground, a thought rolling over in his head. “The airship is coming from the south, right?”
Olive nodded.
“The mountains are north.”
“Yes.”
“Why would they go around Hast and then come back?” Olive’s eyes widened with realization.
The two looked toward the airship, curiosity sprouting amidst dread. It was still a few miles out. Rush gestured for Olive to follow and ran down the dirt roads, this time in a different direction. A minute later, they arrived outside the stone bell tower in the center of town. Rush tried the door; it was locked. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a key, and Olive narrowed her eyes at him. “Where did you get that?”
Rush grinned, but the joy died on his lips as he remembered whose it was. “I just…found it.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.
Olive gave him a quizzical look before perceiving his grief. She, too, looked down.
The lump returned to Rush’s throat as he wiggled the key in the lock and swung the door open. They ascended the spiral stairs and arrived at the top in silence. Rush shuffled across the small platform to the wooden railing on the edge and looked over. From this vantage point, he could see the whole town and much of the forest beyond. Behind him, out of sight, loomed the Pinnacles, the unforgiving mountain range where his brother’s killer lived.
He scanned the cramped tower top dominated by a massive bell, eyes landing on the spyglass he sought. Rush snatched it and aimed it at the airship. The thrill of this new mystery, and his awe at the ship before him, pushed aside his sadness. He smiled when he spotted the flag that snapped atop the mast.
A white compass rose sat atop a diagonal split. On one side, a deep blue; on the other, a yellowish-orange, like the color of a sunrise.
The approaching ship belonged to the Royal Arcian Volantry.
Perhaps the king had received word of the increasing attacks upon the northern towns. Perhaps he had sent soldiers to guard them. If this airship were parked outside Hast, the rebels would think twice before attacking again.
Rush swung his legs over the railing and sat on top, feet dangling over the empty air. Olive stood and leaned on the fence, cupping her chin in her hands. They watched in silence as the ship chugged closer, growing more and more distinct against the bright blue sky.
Sparkling gold was swirled across the deep blue hull and starch-white balloon. Two massive propellers, mounted on both sides of the balloon, pulled it forward. The flag and fins snapped in the wind as smoke billowed from a pipe at the balloon’s rear.
Rush watched through the spyglass as crewmen darted around on deck, preparing ropes and ladders for landing. He passed it to Olive, who also took her time examining the vessel.
The airship came lower as it slowed, steam hissing and massive propellers spinning lazily. It halted above an empty crop field. Rope ladders tumbled down and floated above the ground; crewmen descended with anchors. Large metal spikes, tied to the airship with long ropes, were sunk into the dirt. More people—crewmen and soldiers—climbed down from the deck.
One man caught Rush’s eye. A black tricorn hat sat on his head and a dark blue coat hung to his knees, both embroidered with gold. He smoothed his waistcoat and straightened his cravat as his head turned back and forth, surveying the town. His shoulder bore the same compass rose as the flag. Even from his perch atop the bell tower, Rush could sense the aura of authority surrounding him; he could only guess this was the captain.
He retrieved the spyglass from Olive and watched as a few soldiers gathered around the man. They strode toward town, the captain’s hands clasped behind his back, his elaborate cutlass bouncing on his hip.
Rush set the spyglass down on the railing he sat on and turned to Olive. “Let’s go see what they’re doing.”
She nodded, and they flew down the stairs, only slowing their pace to avoid stumbling.
Bursting out the door, Rush hastily locked it behind him and followed Olive through the streets toward the southern field. By the time they arrived, Captain Bramwell—a surly old volantry veteran—and a few militiamen had trekked out to meet the airship crew.
Rush and Olive slid beside a house on the outskirts of town and peeked around the corner, watching the two parties stop a few dozen paces apart. The breeze carried their voices, though faint, to Rush’s ears.
The airship captain spoke first. “I am Captain Vance Hale of His Majesty’s Ship, the Embark. We are here on behalf of King Gideon VII to gather a report on heightened rebel activity among the northern settlements.”
Rush studied Vance’s face as he spoke. He was young, no older than twenty-five, but carried the confidence of a seasoned general. He sported a thin beard.
Captain Bramwell scrutinized Vance and nodded as if accepting the young man’s authority. His voice was coarse like he hadn’t cleared his throat since retiring.“Former captain Bramwell Sherwood of the airship Coventry. I’m in charge around here.”
Vance’s eyebrows rose. “I have heard many things about you. What an honor to finally meet you.” He bowed his head.
Though Captain Bramwell’s back was to Rush, he could imagine the distaste on his face. “That’s quite enough. If the king wants to know about the rebels, you’ve come to the right place. Come with me.”
Vance nodded and motioned for his escort to stay put. He followed Captain Bramwell into town.
Olive glanced questioningly at the two men and back at Rush. He grinned. She sighed, standing, anticipating his next actions. They waited for the captains to pass by and trailed them. The townsfolk peeked at Vance, the prim and polished Arcian soldiers, and their elegant airship, but seemed afraid to stare too long.
Rush broke away from the main street to take back roads and alleys. If he went fast enough, he might even beat them to the captain’s house and get settled in before they started talking. He just had to hope Captain Bramwell wouldn’t check Rush’s favorite hiding spot like he sometimes did.
The house was hardly more than a shack, made of stacked logs and a thatched roof. But while it was far from fancy, it was in better shape than any other building in town. Whenever he wasn’t managing town affairs, the captain worked on some part of his dwelling, whether it was the leaky roof or a rotting wall. One time, he tore down the entire cabin and built it again from scratch by himself.
While Olive remained around the corner of a shop, Rush crouched and crept closer, watching windows for any spectators. When he came near the wall, he used the logs as foot- and hand-holds and ascended the side. He gripped the sloped side of the roof and stuck his ear against a tiny hole he had cut a week earlier.
Muffled yet recognizable sounds trickled through. The door opened and shut; boots clunked into the only room in the house. Both men were silent until Vance finally spoke.
“New Atlantis is ablaze with whispered rumors of the traitors’ return. We came here to gather information firsthand, but the fear in your people’s eyes speaks for you.”
Silence. When Captain Bramwell spoke, his words were halting. “They came…a month ago. Took everything. We have two weeks of food left, at most. So many men died.”
Rush shifted his weight, trying to forget the “died” part.
“The king extends his sympathies to you. As do I. I will—”
Something crashed in the room, and Rush jumped, nearly losing his balance.
“I don’t want the king’s sympathies!” Captain Bramwell’s voice again. “I want his actions. The senate ignored me for years, and now my town is paying the price of their incompetence.”
Vance coughed. “In all respect, captain, the senate ignored you for good reason. The men will not go to the Pinnacles, and no one cares to make them go.”
“The myths they fear are only as real as the demons hiding under their bed.”
Rush’s eyebrows shot up. He had never heard Captain Bramwell so worked up, not even after the time Rush raided his pantry and replaced the flour with jars of mud. Though he didn’t even understand their conversation, the drama kept his ear pinned to the listening hole.
Vance’s voice was strained, each word carefully chosen. “Myths are powerful things. Perhaps the beasts in their records are not so imaginary after all.”
Neither man spoke for a moment, and Rush imagined Vance composing himself. His voice returned to normal. “I will advise the king to take action. Expect a supply ship to arrive within two weeks with provisions to replace your harvest. Following His Majesty’s instructions, we will depart tomorrow at dawn for the Pinnacles and investigate for ourselves.”
The Pinnacles? They were flying to the Pinnacles? Rush shook his head. This captain was insane. But his thoughts paused. I wonder…
The captain grunted.
They continued conversing about food values, national history, and other things Rush found dreadfully boring. He gingerly pushed against the roof, moving to climb down, but his mind roamed elsewhere.
His hand punched through a weak spot in the reeds and stuck out the other side. He yanked it back to his side and winced. Hopefully, neither had seen his mistake.
A terrifying silence came from within the captain’s house. He expected both to run around the side, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him to the stocks. He had never been in them before, but eavesdropping on the words of a volantry captain seemed like an offense worthy of that punishment.
After several seconds of panic, Rush realized nothing had happened. He still clung to the side of the house, his feet precariously wedged between two logs. Slowly, ears straining for any sound of movement, he worked his way down the wall. Perhaps they hadn’t heard him after all. Olive would be waiting to hear what he gathered from his mission.
He dropped to the ground and turned, searching for her.
Two disapproving faces stared at him instead—one young and bearded, one grizzled and clean-cut. He froze in place and plastered on his best innocent smile. “I was…checking…the roof. For leaks.”
The corner of Captain Bramwell’s mouth twitched. “How considerate of you.”
Rush’s smile faded, and he rummaged through his mind for an escape. “I need to…go…help my parents. With something.”
Vance smiled like Rush’s mother sometimes did when she thought he was being cute. Rush wrinkled his nose. “I have no doubt you do. However, I think you should first come and speak with us for a minute.”
Captain Bramwell grabbed Rush’s arm and pulled him behind as the two men paraded him to the front of the house. He yanked Rush inside, dropped him in a chair, and shut the door.
The older captain frowned. His eyes, hard and gray as a boulder, bored into the boy. Vance regarded Rush, that condescending grin still tugging at his lips. “It seems your captain has not sufficiently warned you about the consequences of eavesdropping.”
Captain Bramwell grunted—he did that more often than he spoke. “You’d think so.”
Rush crossed his arms and stared at Vance. “Are you really going to the Pinnacles?”
He nodded. “Those are my orders.”
“Can I come with you?”
Vance blinked and tilted his head. “Come with us?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Most men won’t venture in there even when bribed or threatened. I don’t know if you’re brave or foolish. Or both.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, you cannot come with us. After you graduate from the Royal Academy in New Atlantis, though, I would welcome your courage on my ship.”
Rush slumped and uncrossed his arms. He hadn’t really expected just asking to work. It never did.
Vance looked at Captain Bramwell. “What shall we do with the boy? He has heard nothing confidential. A severe punishment would hardly be becoming.”
The captain rubbed his forehead. “He’ll not be punished for now. We must finish your report.” He glared at Rush. “Don’t let me catch you there again.” Both he and Rush knew that wouldn’t happen.
A few seconds later, he stood outside the door and exhaled with relief. He would have to be more careful next time.
He glanced around to find Olive, but his eyes caught on the airship still hovering on the other side of town. Soldiers stood on deck, patrolling, talking, as Rush thought.
He knew what he had to do.
When the Embark left at dawn, he would be on board.
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