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For the third time, Rush found himself in the heads of an airship. After Thaddeus had taken him up the tower and tossed him in the stall, crates and boxes had scraped across the wood to block any escape. Not that he planned to escape. Defeat pressed upon his mind and body—he had surrendered all determination in the marketplace of Breckly.
The chugging of the steam engine vibrated through the hull. The Herald was on the move, he knew that much, but where she moved to, no one had bothered to tell him. Apparently, betrayal moved one down on the priority list for news.
After an eternity of waiting, the grinding of boxes on wood jolted hi4Am to attention. His door swung open to reveal Thaddeus.
The quartermaster yanked him up. “The captain wants to see you.” His eyebrows lowered. “Don’t try anything funny.”
As the hulking man dragged him through the ship, his memory flashed back to his first day aboard the Embark. He had been such a different person back then. So ambitious, so sure of his mission. Rush wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
They came to the upper deck and Thaddeus lugged him to where Vance stood at the bowsprit. The captain stared at the horizon. Rush followed his gaze, and his heart sank.
Hast’s bell tower peeked over the edge of the world.
Vance glanced at Rush. His expression no longer carried anger, only pity. “Welcome home.”
Rush’s eyes stayed caught on the town. “That’s it? You’re taking me back?”
“We are not leaving you here, if that is what you ask.” He faced Hast again. “We are on our way to fetch your parents.”
Anxiety boiled in his stomach. “And then?”
“Then, the good captain of the Herald, Henry Turst, will fly us to New Atlantis for a proper trial.”
Rush looked down. The captain’s eyes remained on Hast. They both stared in silence for some time.
“They…what do you think they’ll say?”
“The Court of Arbiters?”
“Um…yeah. Those guys.”
Vance finally turned and regarded Rush. “I…do not know. Your case is an unusual one, to be sure. Desertion warrants death, but you were not properly on the crew. Destruction of royal property typically receives months in prison.”
“What about the crew?”
“My men made it through, fortunately. The dragons left not long after you. They evidentially executed their revenge. A short time later, Captain Turst spotted and rescued us.”
Rush gave a half-hearted nod. “That’s good.”
Silence again. Tension so thick he could have swum in it. Hast crept closer.
Vance sighed and slouched. “Rush, look at me.”
He looked. The captain’s expression showed compassion. “You deserve and will receive consequences for your actions. However, I would despise leaving you in prison for months with the conclusion I carry animosity toward you.”
“Don’t you?”
Vance’s eyes shifted to the side before returning to Rush. “My ship is destroyed. My crew was endangered. I am not glad this happened, but no, I do not hate you. I have seen far too much anger and hate in my life to fall prey to it myself.”
He tried forming several sentences, but none came out. The words refused to sink in. But amid his broken mind, one piece was gently repaired.
He was forgiven.
And so the boy and the captain stood side-by-side as the Herald slowed and dropped anchors.
By the time the ship was properly secured, half of Hast had assembled around it. Rush, peeking from the deck, spotted his parents and Olive among the crowd. He stepped back, but Vance set a firm hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “You are going down as well.”
Rush trudged across the deck and descended the rope ladder behind Vance. His heart beat faster with every step. What would his parents say? What would they do? What would Olive do? Every possibility hung before him. Far too soon, dirt rose to meet his shoe. He kept his back to the crowd for several heartbeats before turning to face them.
A hundred pairs of eyes drifted between him and Vance. They held many things—curiosity, confusion, disapproval. He avoided the faces of his family and friends.
Vance strode forward. “I will not waste words. Likely, most of you already know Rush Cooper.” Rush would have laughed at that if wasn’t so worried about meeting his parents. “He has been on my ship for the past three weeks, a voluntary member of the crew. We are returning him safely to you. I also ask his parents to come and speak with me about some particular matters.”
Before they could emerge from the press, Olive jostled her way between people and shot forward to Rush. She wrapped him in a hug that nearly toppled them both over; Rush strained against it—being hugged in front of half the town? What did Olive think she was doing? But when she whispered, “I missed you,” he let it be.
The boy returned her embrace. “Your Bible…”
She released and smiled. “You read it?”
Rush lowered his head. “Yes, but…well…”
His parents approached, his father only giving a solemn nod of greeting and moving to speak with the captain, his mother fussing over every bump and bruise and speck of dirt. “What happened to your jaw?”
Rush absentmindedly rubbed the stain of blue and purple where Vance had punched him. “It’s nothing.”
Olive met his eyes. “I told them where you went.”
He slumped. “Yeah. I thought you would. You…you did the right thing.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mother said. “If we would have known how much you were hurting…”
Crossing his arms across his stomach, Rush shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”
Vance leaned close and cleared his throat. “If none of you have an objection, I would like to bring you aboard and discuss things further. There is much to say.”
Father and Mother nodded. Olive’s brow wrinkled; she read Vance’s tone. Rush only shrugged.
Their grim procession ascended the ladders and crossed the deck. Olive and his parents admired the ship, as Rush had the first time he saw it. His stomach churned. What would they think? What would they say?
Down the mast. Past the bunks. They climbed down the ladder one by one, gathering in the storeroom. An awkward circle formed until Vance, the last one down, joined them.
He exchanged pleasantries with the others for a few minutes, but tension had already settled in the room like fog. Conversation dwindled until Olive, who had been silent, spoke up. “What’s going on?”
“Of course. That is why I called you aboard.” He inhaled deeply. Rush tensed his shoulders, bracing for the worst. “The news will come first, then the story. Rush is in substantial trouble with King Gideon, and more specifically, the volantry.”
Quiet followed, but a quiet that asked a thousand questions. Three heads turned from Vance to Rush.
The captain explained everything. From stowing away on board, killing the dragon, nearly deserting twice, and actually deserting once, he left no detail of Rush’s treachery out. He spoke of their discussion on the Prince Nathaniel. The boy stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor, every word beating him down. He swallowed. His heart beat in his ears.
After a seeming lifetime, the story arrived at the arrest in Breckly and journey to Hast.
Silence choked the room.
“Is that true?” Father asked.
Rush nodded. He fought the growing sob in his throat that threatened to spill out. “Lewis…he…Ward…killed—” His mouth clamped shut. He wasn’t about to cry in front of the captain.
Vance’s eyes darted around and he inched to the ladder. “Stay in here and talk as long as you wish. Fetch me when you are done.” A moment later, he was gone.
Rush poured out everything from the past weeks. His hatred. His grief. What he had read in Olive’s Bible, and how his quest for revenge had destroyed it. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and once he started talking, he couldn’t stop.
When the last word tumbled out, he paused and sighed. “I’m…sorry.” Rush prepared for yelling, for punishments, for lectures, but none of these came.
Father frowned and rubbed his jaw. “I assume the captain plans to deal with you.”
“He’s taking me to a trial.”
“Then we needn’t punish you further.” He wrapped an arm around Rush’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Welcome home.”
The boy had readied himself for a variety of scenarios. This was not one of them. He could do nothing more than stand as his family and Olive gathered around. For the first time in weeks, a smile tugged at his lips. All his muscles loosened as the realization touched his mind.
He was forgiven.
The Herald spent the rest of the day and night at Hast, restocking supplies and letting everyone rest. Rush wandered town with Olive, helped his father repair the roof, and cooked dinner with his mother. When the sun set, he slept in his own bed.
With the morning came an invitation. Vance requested Mother, Father, and Olive attend the trial in New Atlantis. They packed their bags and came aboard. By mid-morning, the ship set out again.
Rush could almost imagine nothing had happened. That he hadn’t abandoned his family and last friend, that he wasn’t on his way to being punished. And for a few hours, he did.
He sat beside Olive near the bowsprit and chattered away about his adventures on board. The dragon attack. Thaddeus’ iron rule of the ship’s workers. His unofficial promotion to head cook of the Embark. He skipped the stories about his betrayal, but she seemed to ignore the omissions.
Vance, having no captainly assignments, spent much of the trip on deck, talking with Rush’s parents. Occasionally his name drifted across the wind.
As the Herald advanced to New Atlantis, though, he stood and paced the deck from bow to stern. Rush rubbed the back of his neck, sat beside Olive, and stood again before wandering to the top of the captain’s quarters and watching the landscape crawl past.
Finally, he saw it.
The city began as just another dot on the horizon. Within another hour, it dominated the scenery. They had passed dozens of other cities on their way, each bigger than the last, but New Atlantis dwarfed them all. It sat on the steep banks of a sea, covering the hills like a rug. Immense domed structures rose beside multi-storied, spired buildings. Factories exhaling smoke filled one district, their gray clouds staining the sky. Seaships steamed in and out of the docks. A colossal stone obelisk seemed to attract droves of airships like bees around a flower.
“She is beautiful, is she not?” Rush jumped and turned to see Vance standing behind him, face full of awe at the city. Captain Henry Turst was beside him. “The pride of Arcia. Home to the best minds this side of the Pinnacles.”
Rush nodded. His eyes seemed permanently widened at the city’s sheer size. But the trial returned to his thoughts, and his head dropped. If only he were just here on a sightseeing tour.
A smaller airship emerged from the flotilla around the tower, advancing toward the Herald. It was little more than an airborne raft, with only an upper deck and windowed bridge below. Propellers mounted on the back pushed it along. A few men scrambled around with various tasks.
When they came within hearing range, one crewman leaned on the railing and shouted docking instructions at them. Rush couldn’t make any sense of the talk about tiers and bays, but Captain Turst disappeared below deck, and the ship adjusted its heading to the obelisk.
While staring down over the railing, Rush and Olive watched the tower approach. Airship docks covered most of its surface, piers sticking out like the docks of the Prince Nathaniel. The Herald eased into one as waiting crewmen tossed ropes to the deck. Finally, the bow nudged the wharf’s end and stopped.
Around him, crewmen sprang into action, disembarking, carrying boxes and barrels. But Rush hung back until Vance strode up to him. “Welcome to New Atlantis.”
“I don’t feel very welcome.” Rush stuck his hands in his pockets.
The captain smiled. “Now, that all depends on how your trial plays out. Come. There is much to do.” He turned and waved them to follow.
Rush, Olive, Mother, Father, and Captain Vance Hale ventured off the ship and into a city of steam.
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