“Where are we bound for?” Xander asked as Dexter and a few of the crew sat around the table eating a meal.
Rosh snorted. “Don’t matter much,” he muttered, “we ain’t got no money for nothing.”
“There’s been a foul run of luck,” Jodyne said, setting a bowl of stew in front of Dexter.
Dexter nodded to her then turned to look at Rosh, “Speak what’s on your mind,” he said, clearly in no mood for the large man’s griping.
Willa put her good hand on Rosh’s arm, trying to calm him. He ignored her though, and instead stared back at Dexter. “I’m just saying we ain’t been paid in a while,” he said.
“I know you ain’t no better off,” he added, seeing Dexter’s face darken. He hesitated briefly before starting again. “Maybe that’s just it. Maybe we need something different around here to change our luck.”
Dexter’s eyes narrowed. He stood up and looked at Rosh; glared at him, actually. “Leave the table and keep your thoughts to your own,” he growled at him.
Rosh stood up as well, glaring right back. He opened and shut his lips a few times then scowled and grabbed his bowl, slopping some over the side. “You asked,” he mumbled, then turned and stalked off to his cabin.
Willa watched, her eyes going back and forth between the large man and the captain. She looked torn as to what to do. Dexter closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then turned to the others.
“Anybody else feeling that way?” he asked them. Only Willa, Xander and Jodyne were present, but they all were quick to shake their heads.
“Change your mind, feel free to leave at the next port,” he said, then turned to leave with his stew untouched.
“Captain, where is the next port?” Xander asked again, though in a softer voice.
Dexter glanced at the wizard and said, “Little out of the way place I found on an old chart, name’s Corona.”
Xander’s brow creased as he tried to place the name. He had heard of it before, he just could not remember when. Dexter waited a few more seconds for any follow up questions, then headed off to his room.
“You seem different,” Bailynn said to Logan as they worked some lines on the deck. Keshira was off tending another sail by herself, using her unnatural strength to do the work of two men.
Logan shrugged, but found himself smiling. “Aye, I am. I never thought I’d be happy to leave my world behind, but up here I can feel free.”
“Why?” she asked, still confused.
“You were once cursed and shackled to be a slave, right?” he asked her. She nodded, hiding the shame and the pain the memories brought her. “On Azmir I was cursed as well, and while no man or woman owned me, my actions and thoughts were not always my own.”
Bailynn nodded. “I think I understand,” she said. “Except I still do not know freedom,” she added.
“Why not, aren’t you free now? The Captain seems big on that.”
Bailynn shrugged, pretending what he said had not hurt her. It reminded her that she was not important to the Captain… or any of them, really. She was just a body doing work, like Keshira. They might as well be sails or ropes themselves.
“Bekka holds the ring they used to control me,” she said, blinking back her tears.
“Does she… have they ever used it?” he asked, genuinely surprised. His heart went out to the woman, and he actually found his hand on her back.
She shook her head. “No, the Captain said they never would, unless I lost control of myself and attacked them.”
“I don’t know your story,” Logan admitted, “but you seem sane enough to me. Why not ask her for it?”
“She’s supposed to be finding a way to destroy it,” Bailynn said, offering a smile up at Logan as appreciation for his compassion.
“Well then there’s no reason for you to feel threatened. You’re as free as any of us,” he said.
She smiled again and nodded, then shrugged. “I guess you’re right… but I feel no different.”
Logan chuckled warmly. “Well Bailynn, I can think of no better place to be for people like us. We are a danger to our friends and family, and are cast aside because of it. But here,” he said, glancing meaningfully onto the forecastle, “is a place where I think we can safely make new friends and family.”
“My world places no value on the life of others,” he explained. “But I have seen the Captain show more care and concern in only a short time then I saw in my entire life on Azmir.”
“You’re talking about her, aren’t you?” Bailynn asked, referring to Jenna.
He nodded. “Anybody on my world would have cast her aside immediately. Even when Bekka rushed forward to cry out for her.”
“Our Captain stayed his hand though,” he said, remembering the scene. “He…well, you were there, you saw what happened.”
Bailynn nodded and glanced up to the forecastle as well. Then a shifting rope pulled at her hand and she had to refocus quickly on their task. They were pulled apart as the ship tacked into the solar wind, and each found themselves lost in their own thoughts and remembrances.
Bekka had rushed forward, calling out frantically, “Dexter, wait!”
The Captain hesitated, then did as she bade him, withholding the final pound of pressure that would push the trigger past its release point.
“Were you scratched or bitten?” Bekka asked her.
Jenna looked up, trails of tears running down her cheeks. “Was I what? I was scratched. His fingers tore through-‘
“The curse is spread when they bite,” Bekka said, turning back to Dexter quickly and interrupting the elf.
His face was one of warring emotions. He refused to look away from Jenna for a long minute, and the elf’s gaze was tied with his own. Finally Dexter ordered her confined in a cargo hold, just in case. Jenna nodded and smiled, hopeful tears now streaming from her eyes. She reached for Bekka’s to hug her, but saw the alarmed expression in the half-elf’s eyes. Crushed, she nodded and walked directly to the hold, with Dexter and a few others following behind.
It was several hours later when Jenna heard the door to her makeshift cell being opened. She stood away from it, waiting patiently. The door creaked open and Dexter stepped in, his pistol leading the way. “You itching to take a bite out of me yet?” he asked her.
She shook her head and fought the urge to run over to him. Dexter shut the door behind him and lowered the hammer on his pistol. Replacing it in his belt, he looked at her and sighed.
“We’re almost back in the void,” he explained to her. “We’ll do what we can for repairs up there, then head down to drop Aidan off and get off this cursed world.”
“Will they take him back?” Jenna asked, surprised at Dexter’s chosen topic.
Dexter shrugged. “I offered him a bunk,” he said. “He said he’s got some things to take care of down there. I’m for thinking he wants to see about changing the way things are done.”
“That’s a lot of work,” she opined.
Dexter nodded. “He might be the right man for it though.”
They lapsed into silence then Dexter looked at her and stepped closer. “How’s your leg?”
She looked down at her injury. She knew he had something else he wanted to say, but could not yet bring himself to it. “It’s all right. Stings a little, but I’ve had worse.”
Dexter nodded. “Well good,” he finally said. “I’m glad I didn’t shoot you.”
Jenna smiled and took a step closer to him. “Me too.”
“Almost did, you know.”
“I asked you too,” she laid her hand gently on his shoulder.
“You should be more careful,” he said, “I don’t want to lose another first mate.”
“Afraid you can’t get anybody else to take the position?” she asked with a smile.
They were close enough now that Dexter found himself leaning in and dropping the pretense. He kissed her and within half a heartbeat Jenna was returning his kiss. He wondered, briefly, if she had fooled him when he felt the strength of her arms pulling her against him. She slipped her leg between his and pulled, not letting him separate from her. When the dust settled they were on the floor and Dexter was snugly held against her.
Dexter opened his mouth to speak but Jenna pulled him down before he could do more than draw in a breath. When their lips parted she warned him, “Don’t you dare talk, Dexter Silvercloud!”
Her mouth found his again and she untied her leather vest. She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her breast, placing hers on top of his and offering encouragement. Jenna continued to slip out of her clothing beneath him, until she managed to lay nude on the wooden floor.
Her hands then turned to Dexter, roaming over his body and finding the laces, buttons, and clasps necessary to remove his clothing. With a silent acquiescence that surprised her, he let her have her way with him.
“Take me, Dexter,” she whispered to him. “Take me and make me yours!”
She positioned herself beneath him, breath held in anticipation and fear. When Dexter’s flesh met hers she gasped, a dam suddenly bursting within her. All the teasing, all the waiting, all the denial over their time together was over. She bit her lip to fight back the emotions that made her eyes blur and her throat tighten.
Dexter worked at it, rolling his hips and losing control of himself. He shook his head as he felt her wrap her self around him, accepting him fully and asking for more. Jenna looked up at him, confused for a moment. Understanding came as she felt his muscles stiffen against her. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye at the abrupt consummation. Dexter grimaced and grunted, burying his head in the crook of her neck.
She held him tight, her legs entwined around his trapping him inside of her. Her fingers ran in lazy circles over his back and shoulders, offering comfort. When Dexter looked up at her he had a sheepish expression on his face that turned to one of surprise at the tears in her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but Jenna pulled him closer and kissed him instead.
“It’s been a long time,” she whispered when she broke the kiss. “And this just tells me how strongly you feel.”
Dexter smiled, his cheeks red from more than exertion. She winked at him and pulled herself up to kiss him again. “Besides, I’m not finished with you. Roll over.”
Eyes wide, the Captain obeyed his First Mate. What followed was far more satisfying for both of them.
It took a few days of rest for Bekka to reestablish contact with the helm. Though she hid it well, her anxiety over the disruption began to raise her doubts. Once she tried it and was successful, she felt the weight of fear rise from her shoulders. Bekka enjoyed many things in her life — in fact she made a point to enjoy as much as she could — but seldom was there anything that could compare with piloting a ship.
Now, less than a week later, Dexter was on the bridge with her, perusing star charts and trying to determine his next course of action. Bekka pulled her consciousness back from the ship somewhat and turned her head toward him.
“Dex, how are you?” she asked him.
Dexter jumped, startled a little to hear her ask such a thing. He turned and studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “I am well… shouldn’t you be paying more attention to the ‘Hawk?”
“Nothing but us and the void, Captain,” she answered.
“Well, all the same, keep an eye out.”
“Yes Sir.”
Dexter had just returned to his train of thought when she spoke again. “Back on Azmea, when we were trapped, Jenna told me how you filled her with hope even as you denied her.”
Dexter sighed and turned around. “Telling you to mind the ship’s not going to do me any good, is it?”
Bekka smiled.
“I’m thinking I know why they say women on a ship are bad luck,” he muttered to himself. Sighing in defeat, he asked her, “What about it? I did what any Captain ought to do.”
“You did,” she acknowledged. “But there’s more. Captain — Dexter, Jenna is special, very special. You do see that, don’t you?”
Dexter blinked. He hid the grin from his face and nodded. “Aye, she’s one of a kind.”
Bekka smiled again. “Good. If you didn’t, then you wouldn’t deserve her.”
Dexter’s laugh was hesitant. Did she know? Did the entire crew know? It had only been a couple of days and he’d had made himself scarce whenever Jenna was around. What they’d done was too complicated; the words they’d spoken too important. Involvement was dangerous, damn it! Why didn’t that fool woman understand? Had Kragor’s death taught her nothing?
“What do you mean?” he asked, catching himself before the silence dragged on too long.
Bekka shrugged and glanced away. “If you didn’t deserve her, then I’d have to convince her to find someone who did.”
Dexter stared at her with wide eyes. “Someone who did? Like who?”
She looked at him and shrugged again. “Not many elves can look beyond their race, she’s special. She had no kindness for me when we met, but she’s overcome that and even gone so far as to apologize for her kind.”
Dexter snorted. “Not her fault her kin are bastards.”
Bekka nodded. “True, but still she did it. She’s got a heart of gold, and only now learning it herself.”
“So you’d be one who deserves her then?” he asked, intrigued by the idea. He felt mildly threatened as well. He tried to stomp away the jealousy — after all, he knew better than to get involved with one of his crew. What happened must have been a mistake. Too many emotions lately: Kragor’s death, their narrow escape and Jenna’s near death.
“Only if her first choice fell short,” Bekka said.
A commotion in the companionway heralded the opening of the door. Rosh stuck his head through and looked around. He saw the two of them and shrugged, then pushed himself in.
“Hope I ain’t interruptin’ nothing,” he said, knowing he probably was but not caring. He had spent a fair bit of time screwing up the courage to have the talk he planned on having.
“Of course not,” Dexter said. “Just taking about Jenna’s brush with death.”
Rosh grunted, hardly caring. Bekka laughed lightly. “Among other things, like when the Captain will stop denying that he loves her.”
Dexter glared at Bekka, who only shrugged and refused to back down.
“You love her?” Rosh asked, surprised. “Careful Cap, she likes messing with people, I think she’s got your number.”
Dexter threw his head back and groaned. “Enough! There’s no talk to be had about my love life… because there isn’t one! Jenna’s second in command, you’d do well to treat her with respect.”
Rosh blinked and then grinned. “Sunk her teeth in ya, ain’t she?”
Dexter bristled, forgetting that he was supposed to be in charge momentarily. “You’ve got no room for talking! What about Willa and you?”
Rosh opened his mouth then shut it. He looked thoughtful as he pondered what Dexter had said. “You think?” he asked. “I thought we was just friends and all.”
Bekka snorted from her position on the helm, but other than a sharp glance from Dexter, she was ignored. The pause served to help Dexter reign in his frustrations. He took a deep breath and addressed his Arms Master.
“What are you needing, Rosh?”
“Huh? Oh,” Rosh said, glancing briefly at Bekka and then shrugging.
“Cap, the other day, I didn’t mean nothing by what I said,” he explained. “I was just… well, we been having a run of bad luck.”
Dexter nodded; he could tell the big man had more to say.
“The course you been laying ain’t been easy, but we’re still here and I guess that’s something,” he continued. “Still, a fellow can’t help but wonder sometimes about other things.”
“What are you saying?” Dexter asked him, wanting to get to his point and spare the man the clumsy rhetoric.
“That’s all,” Rosh said. “I was just saying what I said. It ain’t easy for me, ya know.”
Dexter nodded, accepting the closest that man could give to an apology. Rosh smiled a little self-consciously, then slipped back out the door and headed off to have a friendly chat with Willa. The Captain watched him go, then sighed and turned back to the charts on the table.
Unseen on the helm, a faint smirk found its way to Bekka’s face.
The following days had been very stressful on the Voidhawk. Bailynn had seemed increasingly withdrawn. Jenna had been distant, though Dexter was thankful for that. His own thoughts were considerably remote, but in spite of it he still noticed how surprisingly cheerful Logan seemed to be. Apparently life on the Voidhawk appealed to him.
“Been meaning to have a word with you,” Dexter said, catching the man as he hopped up the stairs onto the forecastle to make sure some lines were tightened down.
Logan glanced up and smiled. He looked at the ropes and, assured they were right, turned his full attention to Dexter. “What can I do for you, Captain?”
“Between the problems we had and… everything else, I’ve had no chance to welcome you proper to the ship.”
Logan chuckled and shrugged. “Don’t worry, Captain. As you said, there were a lot of problems. I was reluctant at first, but now I find I could not have landed in a better place.”
“You’ve done right by us,” Dexter said thoughtfully. “But I’m still wanting to know what ails you.”
Logan glanced at the main deck and then shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, turning back to Dexter. “The moon, on Azmir, caused me madness.”
“At times I would wake up with my clothing torn and signs of trouble about me. Dirt and blood on my fingers, once even some hair stuck to my arm,” he said frankly. “It was never my own, and I could never remember where it came from.”
He shrugged again. “Since we left Azmir behind, I’ve yet to have any problems.”
Dexter nodded. “I got no idea what sort of thing this could be,” he said. “Don’t make sense, it just going away though. You be sure and let me know if you feel it coming back, we don’t need any more trouble here.”
Logan chuckled, unable to repress his good mood. He nodded though, and promised Dexter that he would. He returned to working and Dexter watched him for a long moment before he decided to head below and see about getting some food. On his way he stopped and saw Kragor sitting halfway down the steps to the main deck, the ghostly dwarf watching Willa as she worked on the main deck.
“Kragor,” Dexter said softly, by way of greeting. He found himself smiling, putting his troubled thoughts aside for a moment.
The dwarf glanced up at him and smiled, then pointed back to Willa. He gave a thumbs up motion, letting Dexter know he approved of her. For what, Dexter had no idea, but it still made him feel better.
Jenna rounded the corner suddenly, the elf girl moving silently and quickly and surprising them. She took the stairs quickly and passed right through the spectral dwarf, which caused him to scowl at her as he patted himself off. Jenna paused at the top of the stairs, next to Dexter and peered back down at them curiously.
“That was odd,” she muttered. She turned to the Captain, her expression still baffled. “Did you feel something?”
Dexter smiled uneasily. “Jenna, I-“
She scowled and snapped, “Not that! I meant when I came up the stairs I felt a touch of something cool. Not chilly or painful, just… odd.”
Dexter and Kragor met each other’s eyes. His scowl was gone and in its place was a wide grin. He pointed at each of them, one hand a piece, then formed a circle with the fingers of the hand pointing at Jenna and took the pointing finger of the hand pointing at Dexter and inserted it into the circle. He proceeded to pantomime a rhythmic motion that Dexter could hardly dismiss the obvious implications of.
“What’s wrong?” Jenna asked, seeing the color rising to Dexter’s cheeks. “Embarrassed to be seen with me standing near you now?”
Kragor, laughing silently, faded from view. Dexter turned, sputtering, to the elf and was going to try and defend himself but instead she just glared at him. “Bekka said we’d be coming up on a gravity well. She thinks it’s a small moon or something, it’s not on the charts.”
Dexter nodded. “Jenna…”
The elf shook her head, “Save it,” she told him. “This is a bad place for talking, and you don’t want your crew seeing what I plan to do to you.”
The tone in her voice and the angry and sad look in her eyes told him that he did not particularly want to know what she had in mind for him either. He nodded and sighed. “Alright,” he told her. Then, as he turned to head down to the bridge he whispered so he could be certain only her elven ears would pick it up, “I’m sorry.”
On the bridge Dexter glanced at the charts of the area briefly to be certain that it was as Jenna had told him. Sure enough, there was nothing but empty void where they were. Bekka was aware of him and asked distantly, “Captain — do you want to go around it or stop and investigate?”
Dexter thought about it for a long moment. They had plenty of supplies, so stopping was hardly necessary. Still, something uncharted could be a secret boon that might pick up everyone’s spirits. It might be undiscovered trade opportunities or perhaps a long lost pirate cache of equipment and loot. Dexter found himself smiling at the prospects, but then realized it could also be nothing — or perhaps something worse than nothing.
“Check it out,” Dexter said, moving closer to one of the two large round windows in the bridge.
Bekka did not respond, but after a few more minutes the ship began to decelerate as it entered the field of gravity. Dimly, Dexter could hear Jenna above calling out orders to bring the ship in closer for a look.
He hurried up to the deck for a better look as they sailed in. The ship moved in, the sails trimmed to slow it down some, and arced wide to give whatever the port used as a pilot boat a chance to catch up to them. As with surface harbors, a port for ships that sailed the void needed to be guided in to prevent chaos from clogging up the lanes.
No boat appeared. They drew closer and closer to the lush, albeit small, world and saw no sign of anyone interested in greeting or guiding them. Dexter’s grin spread and his excitement grew, overshadowing his other concerns and troubles. Had they discovered an uninhabited world? It was small, the size of a small moon, but that still would allow for thousands of people to live in peace, should they desire to do so. His thoughts raced ahead. If it was unoccupied, he could claim it and set himself up as Lord.
Dexter chuckled and Jenna glanced at him. Her jaw was clenched tight enough to turn her cheeks white. “I’ve enough trouble with a ship; I’m hardly needing a world to run!”
Her expression gave way to one of confusion, then returned to annoyance. She went back to barking out orders to the crew while Dexter returned to his thoughts of capitalizing on their finding.
His hopes were dashed when they circled the planet and made out a fair sized city. Details were impossible to make out from their altitude, even though the world seemed to not be pestered with such silly things as clouds. With no guide to take them in, Dexter ordered them to find their own way down. With recent experience sailing the winds of a world, they had little trouble dipping into the atmosphere and circling down towards the lone city.
Carved into the top of a small plateau, a large harbor rested on the edge of man-made lake with dry docs dotting the remaining area. Dexter opted for a water landing, trusting that the hull was better supported thusly.
The spacious town was well designed and the keep had a low wall connecting five towers. The palatial grounds gave way to a four story mansion containing enough rooms for dozens of people to live comfortably. It was no proper castle, by any means, but still large enough to clearly be the residence of the ruling lord of the city.
The town’s inhabitants crowded the shore and stared at the Voidhawk is pulled up to the dock, scrambling around to help tie off the lines. Dexter, Rosh, and Xander walked down the plank to the dock and cheering erupted. The three looked to one another and then back at the ship before continuing.
A man stepped forward, grinning ear to ear, and welcomed them. “Well met, we’ve been waiting for the next visitors from the skies.”
Dexter took his offered hand and let him shake it, vigorously. Rosh stood nearby, glowering threateningly at anyone that came too close.
“I am Constable Lorren, welcome to Deepingdale,” he said.
“Captain Silvercloud,” Dexter responded. “This is my Arms Master Rosh and my ship’s wizard Xander.”
“Tell me Constable, why is it I could not find Deepingdale on any of my charts?” Dexter asked. He turned and looked at the port. While largely vacant, it still harbored seven other ships.
Constable Lorren smiled and shrugged. “It is not mine to say, Captain. Perhaps your charts are out of date? Perhaps we are not on any trade routes. This is a small world, with Deepingdale being the only city.”
“It is our paradise, I admit,” he added, and glanced over his shoulder at the many others gathered here. “But we have little to trade aside from camaraderie.”
Dexter nodded, thoughtful. Something seemed amiss, but he could not place it.
Xander cleared his throat and asked, “You mentioned you’ve been waiting for visitors?”
The Constable nodded and some of the nearby townsfolk whispered excitedly, drawing a concerned glare from Rosh. “It is rare that we get visitors. As wondrous as it is here, we yearn for the tales you bring.”
He leaned in closer and said, “We’ve many fine young ladies here that yearn for some fresh blood from the skies as well, if you know what I mean.”
Rosh brightened a little, his glower fading. He cleared his throat and mumbled, “Seems like a fine enough port to me, Captain.”
Dexter rolled his eyes, but kept his rebuke to himself.
“Indeed, Captain, it is a fine place we have here. I am the Constable but I’ve not seen a crime committed in two years — and then it was young troublemakers that drank too much of our wine,” the Constable offered.
Dexter turned and glanced at the other ships; he could see no one standing watch on them. That gave both credence to the man’s words but also nagged at the back of his mind.
“We’ve some items to trade, if you’re interested, Constable,” Dexter said. “We come bearing simple supplies, arms and equipment mostly — if you’re truly an uncharted peaceful world, I suspect you’ve great need of steel.”
Lorren’s eyes flashed. “We’ve little need of weapons here,” he said. “Some may find interest in it though. Mostly we trade in our market in town, but for such a load I’ll grant you pass to set up shop here on the shore.”
Dexter nodded. “If you’ll clear some room for us, we’d be happy to oblige.”
Constable Lorren smiled and turned, waving his hands in a shooing motion and telling people to go back to their business. Grumbling, people began to disburse. Lorren turned back after many had gone and said to Dexter, “You and your crew are invited to join us tonight. It’s the Festival of Lords you’ve come upon, a grand time to be had by all!”
“Festival of Lords?” Dexter asked, glancing at Xander and Rosh, both of whom looked blankly back at him.
“Sure enough,” he said, nodding excitedly. “Our Lord serves as Governor of Deepingdale as long as they deem fit, then when they wish to step down, a festival is called. There are tests and trials anyone interested must go through. The winner becomes the new Lord of Deepingdale.”
Without looking, Dexter knew Rosh’s eyes were wide. He found it a bit odd himself, but then shrugged. The people of Deepingdale were clearly a different sort.
“Some merriment would do us well,” Dexter said, thinking of how he could use a bit of a chance to relax himself. “But that’s for later. We’ve work to be done now.”
“Of course!” The Constable said. “By all means, do as you must. Send for me should you have any troubles, I’m sure there will be plenty of people about pretending to not be interested.”
Dexter chuckled and nodded, then turned and headed back up the plank to the Voidhawk. He saw most of the crew gathered and waiting on the deck. Only Keshira remained at her post. With a sigh, he called her over then turned to address them all.
“I reckon you heard the man, we’re to set up our goods over there. Not our way normally, but gold is gold. As for the festival, we’ll be drawing lots to see who gets left behind.”
“Captain, he said it was safe here,” Bailynn said, surprising Dexter.
He turned to look at her and smiled. “That’s what I’d tell someone whose ship I planned on stealing.”
She nodded and kept her mouth shut, but he could see the troubled look in her eyes. He suspected she was worried she would be forced to stay behind on the boat.
Their wares sold quickly. The coins they received for them were dated, but their weight was true and Dexter made no trouble with accepting them. They now mingled with the townsfolk at the festival. Bekka remained behind at the ship; she had drew the short straw but had shown no concern about it.
The Festival of Lords consisted of some unusual but excellent food for the crew of the Voidhawk. The drink, also unusual, was equally palatable. Entertainment was fleeting, they found, but the reason behind it was soon apparent. The games were to be the entertainment. Games that the crew was invited to participate in.
The games were taxing, and segued from one to another with more and more people eliminated each step of the way. Some of them focused on thinking and logic, while others were geared toward the more physical aspects that made Rosh and Dexter more comfortable. It was not until near the end of the contests that Rosh and Dexter found themselves both eliminated. Jenna and Logan were the sole representatives from the Voidhawk still in the running. At the end of the final challenge Jenna remained and all the others had been eliminated.
Rosh and Dexter exchanged a surprised look while she stood bathed in light that came from a circle of flameless torches surrounding her. Every source of light they had seen thus far had been magical. Even the food was cooked without fire upon magical plates not so different from the heatstone Jodyne used.
Jenna shrugged and looked embarrassed as she stared back at them. Willa giggled, her small frame easily affected by the alcohol of the festival. Not only that, but aside from a stolen sip here and there, it was the only alcohol she had ever had.
Willa snickered again when the cheering stopped. She silenced herself quickly when she noticed that she was receiving some strange looks. The townsfolk had not only stopped cheering, but they had fallen to one knee. Constable Lorren hurried up to her side and offered her a beautiful golden pendant with a softly glowing ruby set in the middle of it.
“Captain,” Keshira said from where she sat. The pleasure golem reacted when spoken to, but had otherwise done little more than to glance around disinterestedly. This was her first signs of showing initiative.
“Yes?” He turned, surprised at her near outburst.
“The pendant Jenna is putting on is filled with powerful magic,” she stated calmly.
Dexter glanced up at Jenna, concerned. His reactions and thinking were somewhat dulled by the alcohol, however, so it took a moment before he spoke again. “What sort of magic?”
“I do not know, I only possess the ability to know that it is magical.”
Dexter nodded and frowned. He blinked and watched, not certain he was seeing things properly. Almost before his eyes he saw the elven woman’s gaze drift over him. He flinched in what he saw revealed in it. There had been a long moment where she gazed upon him dully, as though unfamiliar with who he was. Her smile had slackened as well.
A roar broke his attention. He turned and saw a grizzled old man with an eye patch slam his fist onto the table. “Jasper Highsail, you whore-son!”
His gaze was directed at Rosh, who could only stare back in shock at the man.
Dexter surged to his feet, coming to the aid of his Arms Master. “Friend, you’ve got the wrong man,” he said, one hand slipping to his pistol.
The old man continued to stare down Rosh. “The Hell I do! He struck a deal with me and then turned me loose when the deal went sour so he could get away!”
“Thing is,” he said, leaning in closer and glaring with his one eye at Rosh, “I ‘spect you had that planned all along!”
“I got away though, lost half me crew and near as much of me ship! We ended up finding this place and decided to settle in — safer and more prosperous than dealing with pirates like you!”
“I should gut you like a fish,” he continued, giving no one a chance to interrupt. “And maybe I will if the new Lady will let me — but first I got to know why you ain’t aged a day in a score of years?”
“I ain’t Jasper Highsail,” Rosh said. He stared back at the man and stood up, dwarfing the one eyed man. “Name’s Rosh, and I ain’t never met you before.”
“Captain of the Shark’s Teeth?” Dexter asked, surprised to hear the name. He had not heard of the infamous pirate captain in many years, but now he was putting it together and remembered the stories.
“Rosh is my Arms Master, I’m the Captain of the Voidhawk. I’ll vouch for him that he’s never had ship nor crew in his charge, and he’s aged a day for every day I’ve known him,” Dexter said. “Have some more of your fine brew, friend, and let’s put this behind us,” he added.
Rosh glared at him a minute longer, then walked away, heading away from the Festival and towards the ship. Dexter watched him go, open mouthed, before returning his attention to the table. The old man walked away a moment later as well, heading to the table he had come from.
“What was that?” Willa asked softly from nearby. The sudden excitement had sobered her up — if only briefly.
Dexter shook his head. “If you find out, let me know.”
Dexter searched for Jenna but she had disappeared. He cast about for her, but found her nowhere to be seen. Sighing, he slumped back to his seat and took another drink that now lacked the sweet taste of relaxation. “Stay as long as you like; I’m off for the ‘Hawk.”
Keshira rose and followed him obediently. The others remained, looking uncertainly towards one another, but then deciding to settle in and see what else remained of the night.
Dexter, mildly drunk, turned once he had left the festival behind him and found Keshira less than a dozen feet behind him. “Why are you following me?”
“Captain, I exist to serve you,” she said.
Dexter growled and waved a shaky finger at her. “I don’t deserve no serving. Nobody does!”
Keshira looked at him. She said nothing, but stood there patiently.
“What now?” Dexter cried, seeing her complacency.
“I am failing you, Captain, I do not understand.”
Dexter threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes. “What? What are you not understanding?”
“You said nobody deserves to be served,” she said. “But you clearly serve the members of your crew.”
“That’s not serving,” the mildly drunk captain said. “They be my responsibility. Swearing service to me means I owe them my support too.”
“If they swear service to you, are you not someone then who should be served?”
Dexter stared at her for a long minute. “Why do I bother?” he muttered. “You can’t learn what it means to be human. You can’t know responsibility or friendship or love. No matter how much I tell you, you’re nothing but a walking and talking chair,” he said with disappointment.
Dexter turned to walk away again, feeling like he had failed. He took a few steps and glanced back, seeing that Keshira had not moved. “Not following me like a lost puppy?”
“Captain, I feel your disappointment,” she said to him. “We are bonded and I can feel you through it.”
Dexter grunted. She had told him this before. It had bothered him then, but now it was of little interest. He had given up hope of her ever being anything more than a mindless automaton.
“It causes a disturbance in me,” she continued. “Something is not right. Do you know what it is?”
“How would I know?” He snapped back at her.
Ignoring his temper she replied, “You can feel it through the bond we share.”
“I don’t-“ Dexter stopped, realizing what she had just said. “Wait, you mean this bond… it’s something I can use too?”
She nodded. “Yes, Captain, it works both ways.”
“What does that mean?”
“You can feel what I feel and communicate with me through it. With training, you can experience my senses through it as well.”
“Your senses,” he said slowly. “You mean I can see what you see and hear what you hear?”
“With training and time, yes Captain.”
“How do I do it?”
“Concentrate on me and will yourself to feel the connection to me,” she explained. “It may help if you close your eyes.”
Dexter stared at the beautiful construct before him and realized how he had trained himself to not really look at her. To not really think of her as a person in spite of all that he had said. He cursed himself for his contrary behavior and forced himself now to look upon her fully. Doing so, however, quickly left him distracted as he became entranced by her impossible physical perfection.
“Aye, close my eyes,” he muttered. He closed them and thought of her again, struggling to feel some sort of connection to her.
“You have done this before, Captain,” she said softly. “You have spoken to me without speaking.”
“I have?” he asked, eyes opening in surprise.
She nodded. “Yes Captain, you were always distracted but very focused on your distraction, it helped you connect to me without realizing it.”
Dexter nodded and closed his eyes again. He focused again on her, but instead of spamming random mental thoughts in her direction, he tried to feel her. In a rush that nearly knocked him from his feet, a new world of sensation and possibility opened up to him.
“I feel you,” Keshira said to him, her tone different than normal, though he did not notice. “I have felt you before, but this time it is different.”
Dexter nodded. “Yeah… different.”
Dexter’s senses swam with Keshira. It was a strange and alien feeling, sensations not his own tingled through him. Emotions, he was familiar with, and recognition of what was happening set in.
“You… you feel,” he said, realizing something that he had not truly appreciated before. “I’m sorry, Keshira,” he said.
A rush of emotion welled in her, washing away the sadness with pleasure. She knew, she could feel him as well. She knew he was genuine in his remorse. “I know other people think and feel,” he explained, for himself more than for her. “I know it, and yet it never really mattered.”
“I know better now,” he muttered.
Dexter glanced up at the beautiful construct that suddenly seemed more human to him than anyone before ever had. “Keshira, that thing you felt. The disturbance — it is called sadness. I treated you poorly and it made you sad. I am sorry.”
“And now?” she asked.
“Joy,” he said.
She nodded. “It is part of my construction,” she explained. “The emotions — you can deny them to me, if you desire. You have absolute power over me, Captain.”
Dexter’s eyes widened. “What? No — never! That’s a cruelty that should never be done. Not to you nor anyone. In fact, when you’re happy, it’s okay to smile.”
Keshira smiled, her full lips curling up and revealing her equally perfect teeth. Dexter whistled through his teeth. “Be careful with that,” he said. “You’re likely to cause some hearts to stop if you share that with too many men.”
Keshira looked at him with a head cocked to the side, but Dexter just laughed. “You’ve much to learn, my friend, but I’m thinking I’ve got a fair bit to know yet myself!”
“Now then, I’ve got to find Jenna — seems I owe her a thing or two,” he said. “Any chance you see where she went?”
“The tower,” Keshira said. “After she donned her prize, she slipped away and headed towards the tower.”
Dexter frowned. He wondered why she would go there. Then again, by winning she was allegedly the new Lord of Deepingdale. Perhaps she had been so angry with him that she was ready to begin her new post and be rid of him.
“Rosh!” Bekka said, surprised to see the large man stomping up the deck. “Are there problems?”
“What?” He snapped, then softened. “Sorry, just ain’t in the mood for it.”
“What happened?” The always inquisitive half elf asked.
The large man took in a breath to brush her off, then paused and blew it out. “Nice place here,” he said, turning and staring at the town from the edge of the deck.
Bekka nodded. “As fair as any,” she replied.
“I see it in the eyes of the others — felt it in my own heart,” he continued. “Some of them’s thinking of staying — ‘specially now that Jenna’s in charge.”
“Wait, what?” Bekka asked, suddenly alarmed. “What do you mean, in charge? In charge of the ship? Did something happen to the Captain?”
Rosh looked at her for a minute, sorting out his thoughts. He shook his head. “No, ain’t nothing wrong with him. I meant she’s the new Lord…er, Lady of this place.”
“So it’s true then? The Festival of Lords truly does pick a new Lord and Jenna won the title?”
Rosh nodded. “Aye, she won and put on this amulet they gave her, then she took off, heading to the tower. I reckon we got an easy time of it here now, with her running things. Maybe she’ll even offer us titles too.”
Rosh scowled as his earlier thoughts came back. “Don’t matter, I ain’t staying.”
Bekka, confused at the talk of staying, could only nod. “I think we will all stay with the Captain. He’s a rare man that cares for his crew.”
Rosh shrugged. “Don’t be so sure,” he grunted. “If he’s so caring, why’d he spurn Jenna? Takes a fool to turn something offered like that down — and a damn mean fool to lead her on otherwise.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked him, concerned.
“After she got scratched, we locked her up in the hold,” he explained. “I was keeping an eye on it, I saw how strong them things was once they turned. If she turned, I meant to put her down quick.”
“Dexter went in there with her, and the things I heard were the kind of things you hear when two people are fighting or…”
Bekka’s eyebrows rose in understanding. “They didn’t come out with no fresh bruises,” Rosh finished.
“I didn’t know,” Bekka said softly. She meant to say more but they were interrupted.
“Rosh, is everything all right?” Willa called from below. Her voice sounded a little slurred, but not too badly.
Rosh looked at Bekka, his eyes fierce. She nodded wordlessly and he turned. “Yeah, just got tired.”
“Come on down here, I need some company,” she said.
Rosh grinned in spite of himself. “Why don’t you come up here?” He offered.
Willa pouted from the deck. “We’ve spent enough time on that smelly boat, don’t you want to feel real ground under your feet?”
To Rosh the words she spoke sounded strange. He looked around at the Voidhawk, conscious of the smell as he did so. “The ‘Hawk don’t stink,” he said.
Willa giggled. “Maybe not, but there’s so much more room down here! Please?”
Rosh sighed and shrugged. He stepped onto the plank and walked back to her.
“Why’d you leave the party?”
Rosh shrugged, “Didn’t want no trouble. Not with Jenna winning that contest and all.”
“Wow, can you believe that?” Willa asked, the alcohol making her easily distracted and a little flighty. Rosh could not help but chuckle and find her cute because of it.
“Yeah, looks like the ‘Hawk’ll be needing a new mate,” he said.
Willa made a strange face, but let the comment drop. After a few moments of silence while they walked to nowhere in particular she asked, “Who was that man, Rosh?”
The Arms Master shrugged. “I ain’t for knowing.”
“What about the man he mentioned… Jaspar Highsail? Do you know him?”
Rosh paused, coming to a stop. He turned to look at her and she did the same, a smile on her face. “You’re drunk,” he accused her.
She giggled a little and nodded. She held up her arm, bringing the stump into the dim light from the nearby town’s lanterns. “You played a part in saving my life twice,” she said softly. “First time you held me and cut my hand off. It was ruined and poisoning me, killing me slow.”
She reached up with her other hand and gently caressed his cheek, feeling the stubble that had grown over the course of the day. “The second time was when you kept me from falling off the Voidhawk. I’ve been wanting to thank you, wanting to show you how much I appreciate you, but I’ve been afraid.”
“’Fraid of what?” he asked, his voice deep but also soft and drawn.
“Afraid of rejection, maybe,” she said, tears glistening in her eyes.
“You’re right, I’m drunk,” she admitted. “So I don’t know better than to tell you all this. You’re my lifeline — you keep me going, Rosh. I felt worthless losing my hand, but then you saved me anyhow. You don’t care that I only got one hand. You still treat me special.”
“I’m afraid if you don’t have the feelings for me I got for you… well, I’m afraid that’ll mean I don’t matter.”
She opened her mouth to say more but Rosh had heard enough. She was a wisp of a thing compared to him and picking her up was easy. His mouth closed on hers and she moaned breathlessly as he crushed her to him.
With the new Lord chosen The festival ended. Logan, Jodyne, and Bailynn returned to the Voidhawk much as the town’s folk made their way back to their homes. As soon as they arrived an agitated Bekka asked for them to stay and keep an eye on things, then she slipped into the darkness of the night with nary an explanation. The others, tired from their recreation and also with strange thoughts in their heads, put little mind to her behavior.
Bekka slipped through the town, finding it strangely quiet, even for such a late hour. She moved on and came across Keshira, who stood silent watch like a sentinel. She pulled up short, surprised at the pleasure golem’s presence, then nodded to her.
“Keshira, do you know where Dexter is?” she asked. “And Jenna?”
Keshira looked at her and smiled, which further set Bekka back. “The Captain searches for Jenna at the tower.”
Bekka nodded and started towards it. She stopped and looked back at Keshira oddly. “Why do you stand there?”
“The Captain asked me to,” she responded. “He told me it was okay to smile.”
Bekka had to admit the woman had a beautiful smile, no matter how confusing her statement was. She nodded and mumbled something about that being good, then hurried away.
Arriving at the base of the tower she found Dexter sitting on a rock and staring at it morosely. She walked quietly beside him and stood there silently for several long moments before he glanced up at her. He looked angry and unhappy, perhaps even miserable.
Bekka opened her mouth, then closed it. She had meant to berate him, but thought better of it upon seeing him. “Tell me about it,” she said, dropping to her knees beside him.
Dexter looked at her and cracked a humorless smile. “Too much to tell,” he said. “Besides, there’d be no mystery about me then.”
Bekka smiled. “Then tell me why you’re sitting on a rock outside of a tower?”
“Long story,” Dexter said. “And I’m hoping I won’t have time to tell it all.”
“Why not?”
“I reckon if a door don’t open soon in that tower, I’ll go find Rosh and have him make me one,” Dexter explained.
Bekka glanced at it and, true enough, she saw nothing but smooth stone about the base. She did not walk around it, as Dexter surely had, but she took his word for it. “Powerful magic,” she whispered.
Dexter shrugged.
“Why did you deny her?” Bekka asked him.
“Deny her?” Dexter asked, confused and panicked at the same time.
“You showed her love and then took it from her.”
Dexter looked at Bekka for a long moment, realizing that somehow she knew. Odds are they all did — he wondered how long they had known. The Captain just sighed and shook his head.
“Been a long night, Bekka,” he said by way of begging off any explanations. “We all do the wrong thing at times; I’m here to fix that.”
Bekka nodded, accepting that she would get nothing else from him. Truly, it was not her place to demand more. She cared for him though, as a friend and a brother — neither of which she had truly had. Likewise she cared for Jenna and the others of his crew, though it seemed in peril of being sundered.
“Keshira told me something,” she mentioned a moment later. “She said you told her it was okay to smile.”
Dexter found himself smiling at the words, and tried to feel for the connection to the pleasure golem. He could not make it, whether it was the distance or perhaps because he was too tired and distraught to concentrate properly he was not sure. “Aye, there’s never a day that can’t be made better with a smile.”
“Especially from a beauty like her,” Bekka offered.
Dexter laughed and looked at her, surprised. “First you tell me you’re interested in Jenna, now Keshira? Got no love in you for a strong man?”
Bekka shrugged and smiled. “I never said that,” she answered noncommittally.
“Captain,” she continued a moment later, before he would explore her sexuality any further. “Something Rosh said earlier when he returned to the ship — and how the others acted. I paid it no heed at the time, but now I’m wondering.”
“What’d Rosh say?” Dexter asked, assuming the worse.
“He said the others were looking like they were thinking of staying,” replied Bekka.
Dexter sighed. “It’s a beautiful little rock, I’ll admit,” he said. “I’ll not stop anyone that wants to. We’ve flown shorthanded before.”
“It is nice here,” Bekka admitted, looking around. “And now I hear Jenna’s in charge.”
Dexter nodded but said nothing. “Think you could pick up some fresh deckhands here?”
“Rosh say he wanted to stay too?” Dexter asked.
Bekka shook her head. “No… but Willa might be changing his mind.”
Dexter’s eyes went up in mild surprise. “I won’t stand in their way,” he said. “Didn’t figure him for the settling down type though. Funny things a woman can do to a man.”
He looked at Bekka and smiled. “Or a woman.”
Bekka’s eyes narrowed slightly at the jibe, but she otherwise ignored it.
“Well, I’d best hurry about getting some help to poke a hole in this tower then, while Rosh still listens to what I tell him.”
Bekka nodded and rose to follow Dexter as he walked with a purpose down the hill the tower sat upon back towards the Voidhawk.
Jenna watched from inside the tower, staring passively at the vision upon the walls around her. She could see everywhere on the small rock with merely a thought, though at the present she could not help but be dismayed that Dexter and Bekka left her behind.
That part was a small part hidden within herself; the rest of her watched silently from her chair. She watched and she learned, listening to the persistent voice of the former Lord of Deepingdale. He was old and resting upon a cushioned bed some distance away. His skin wrinkled and mottled with age, his chest had been barely moving for several hours. Now all that remained was the voice that she heard within her head, whispering to her promises of rewards and luxuries she had never dreamt of.
She would be accepted and have people of her own — people that would call her friend for who she was, not who they wanted her to be. She could have the love of any man she wanted, simply with a gesture and a look. All of Deepingdale was to be hers for the taking, all she had to do was to give in to the voices and let them teach her the things only it could teach her.
Watching Dexter leave she had felt another piece of her heart crumble. A tear slid down her cheek. Jenna turned inward, listening more earnestly to the voice.
“Where’s Rosh?” Dexter asked as he strode up the deck. Keshira and Bekka were behind him, following closely.
Logan shrugged from where he was writing something in a journal he had taken to keeping. “Haven’t seen him,” he said. “Willa neither, for what it’s worth.”
Dexter frowned. After a moment he shrugged and headed below deck, barging into Rosh’s quarters without bothering to knock. The man was not there, as expected, but the spare weapons were. He grabbed several bags of fire powder and handed them to Bekka and Keshira. Logan had followed them downstairs, and given the ruckus he was making outside of the crew quarters, Bailynn soon joined them.
By the time he had started back up the stairs, Jodyne had emerged as well. She looked on, confused, at the heavily armed profession that passed her by. Dexter called down to her to mind the ship while they were out, and she could only nod and roll her eyes at what she expected to be more trouble. She thought to wake Xander, but decided to let the wizard rest; he was a bit peculiar for her tastes.
It made her sigh with longing for her lost husband. She had no doubt Kragor would have been right at Dexter’s side for whatever mischief he had planned. Unknown behind her, the ghost of her partner watched with a smile and a nod as the crew departed.
They trooped back to the tower, the hour growing so late the sky was lightening though the sun was distant. More proof of the magic of the Lord of the tower.
Dexter laid out his plans when they got there. Still no portal allowed them entrance, so he stacked sacks of powder about it, intent upon making one. It was only after he finished with it that he poured a line of the powder to where they hid; some dozens of feet away and behind a swell in the ground.
Bekka used a touch of her magic and they all watched expectantly. The flame leapt from her finger to the powder, but it did not ignite. She looked up to Dexter, surprised, and tried again. The second and third time it continued to fail to light.
Eye’s wide, Dexter drew his pistol and pointed it at the makeshift fuse. He pulled the trigger and was left stunned by the lack of a report from the weapon. It stayed silent and still in his hand.
“More magic,” Bekka wagered. “The powder won’t light.”
“Captain, why are we here?” Logan asked, his curiosity reaching the breaking point. “I thought Jenna went of her own will.”
“Aye, she did,” Dexter said offhandedly. “I mean to have her back.”
Logan and Bailynn shared a look. Logan seemed surprised, Bailynn suspicious. “You’re not releasing her from service?”
“This ain’t about service,” Dexter said, staring at the tower. He cursed and looked back at them. “I’m not of a mind to share my thoughts, you can go back to the Hawk if you want, or wherever you feel like. I got something that needs doing and I mean to see it done.”
Nobody got up to leave, but Dexter had already dismissed them. He stared at the tower and then turned to Keshira. “I won’t order it, there be magic in that tower and I don’t know what it can do, but I’ll ask it. Can you break a hole in that wall?”
Keshira studied the wall very briefly then nodded. “I believe I can, Captain.”
“I learned better tonight, so I’m asking you, will you try it?”
Keshira smiled again, dazzling them with her beauty. “Yes, Captain, I will.”
Bekka looked at Dexter quizzically, but he ignored her. She meant to have a long talk with the man when this was all done. Meanwhile, Keshira led them back to the base of the tower. Dexter and Logan pulled the powder sacks away from it while Keshira looked for a weakness. Finding nothing, she set to slamming her fists into it, sending vibrations through the ground with each forceful thud.
It seemed a pointless task, but after a dozen blows had landed a crack appeared upon a block of stone in the wall. Another followed soon after, and then she truly made progress with the destruction of the wall.
By the time she had reduced a pair of stones to rubble, nearly enough room for Dexter to climb through, Constable Lorren shouted at them from the road to town. He hurried up to them and demanded that they stop, insisting they tell him what this was all about.
“Know a better way in?” Dexter asked him.
“What? Why?” The constable asked. “The tower accepts supplicants when the Lord of Deepingdale wishes it.”
“That’s not going to do it,” Dexter said. He focused on the constable and addressed him directly. “You seem a good man, but there’s one of you to all of us. Them’s not the kind of odds that lead to sharing stories with your grandkids.”
The constable gaped, mouth flapping like a fish out of water. He looked back and forth, and saw to a man they all looked deadly serious. Keshira continued to pound, breaking off parts of another block and clearing it out.
“Why is Jenna not responding to us?” Bekka asked him, stepping closer. “We are her friends.”
The constable, able to focus on something, blinked and nodded. “Please, please stop — I’ll tell you what I can.”
Dexter narrowed his eyes but, after a minute, nodded and turned to tell Keshira to stop. She had already ceased, however, and instead offered him a knowing smile that he nearly laughed at, in spite of the situation. He turned and nodded to the constable to continue.
“Thank you,” he said, taking a moment to wipe his brow with a rag he produced from his pocket.
“I was a boy serving as a cook’s monkey on a ship that came here,” he said. “The captain became the new lord — and after a few years I was given the job of constable.”
“Does every new arrival end up changing the Lord?” Logan said, interrupting with his question.
“No,” Lorren said, surprised at the question. “It always signals a festival, but at times the newcomers are not found worthy.”
“My captain is the Lord that is turning over his duty to your friend. You will find her different as she accepts her responsibilities.”
Dexter growled. “I don’t want her different — she’s my first mate, there’s no call for her to be tied to this place.”
“Did you not have dreams of what being Lord here would be like?” Lorren asked him.
Dexter opened his mouth to retort, but remained silent. He scowled. “Every man dreams,” he said at length. “And every man lives a life as best he can in spite of his dreams.”
Lorren sighed. “Well spoken, Captain — but it is too late. She put on the amulet and, as I recall, that signals the ascension to the position.”
“Aw hell,” Dexter swore. “That’s a load of voidrat dung! Constable, I’m going into that tower and I’m getting Jenna back.”
“I can’t stop you, Captain,” Lorren admitted. “By the time I could raise some men to come here, you’ll be inside.”
“Some friendly advice,” he offered with a resigned tone. “When you stand before her and find you can’t see your friend there anymore, ask yourself if such a fate is truly a curse.”
The constable stood a moment longer, then walked off back towards the town. Keshira resumed ripping out the loosened block from the tower. Dexter turned to the tower as well, while the others stared thoughtfully at the constable.
“Who was that old man at the festival?” Willa lay next to Rosh, using his shoulder as a pillow and running her fingers through the hair on his chest. She looked up at him and smiled, and he found her grin infectious.
Disarmed by her smile, Rosh could only half shrug. “Some crazy old man, I ain’t never seen him before.”
“What about Jasper Highsail?”
Rosh let his head fall back. He stared up at the stars above them, thinking. “Ain’t that funny,” he said, somewhat surprised. “I ain’t got the itch to get up there like normal.”
“I spend too much time in one place and it starts this itch in my neck. I got to move — keep going and find something new,” he explained to her. “This time I ain’t getting that. It’s like I’m happy here.”
“I’m happy here,” Willa said, slipping her arm around his chest affectionately.
Rosh laughed. “I didn’t mean that,” he said. “Sure, you put a powerful smile on my face!”
“So what about Jasper Highsail?”
Rosh sighed. He looked around a little, then stared up at the stars again. “Jasper Highsail’s a no good son of a bitch. He’s a pirate captain that’s got a legend for being a two faced double crossing…”
“Quite a reputation, it can’t all be true,” she said when he faltered and ran out of adjectives.
Rosh sighed. “It’s worse, he’s… he’s never let anything get in the way of him being number one.”
“It must be tough, having that sort of a reputation to deal with,” Willa said, sensing there was a lot more to it than this. “You know this man, don’t you?”
Rosh nodded. “He’s my father.”
“Go!” Logan called, standing beside Keshira and raising his mace to block the swing from one of the macabre statues that had suddenly animated as they passed through the entrance hall of the tower. Bailynn stood on the other side, her teeth bared and looking every bit as savage as the statues that came to life.
Dexter, sword in hand, hesitated as they held back the two animated gargoyles.
“If you love her, you must help her — dying here will do neither of you any good,” Bekka said to him.
Dexter nodded but still waited a moment. He knew what he had to do, but it still pained him.
“You’re not abandoning them,” Bekka hissed at him. “They are buying you time!”
“They might need help,” Dexter said. “Stick around and see that they get it.”
Bekka’s eyes widened and she looked ready to protest. A hiss of pain from Logan distracted her. Dexter bounded up the stairs, seeing that Logan had only a fresh bruise upon his arm. Bekka summoned her magic to aid the priest and the pleasure golem.
Dexter crossed through another room and came upon a closed double door. He stopped to study the magical rune upon it. With a shrug he backed up several steps and clenched his teeth with resolve. A running start preceded a feet-first leap at the door. With a flash of light and the smell of ozone the doors flew open.
Dexter fared only slightly better than the door, his legs in spasms and his teeth grinding against the pain. The shock that coursed through his body was over as soon as it begun, but it left his muscles constricted and his lungs unable to draw a breath. His gaze fell on Jenna sitting upon a throne showing no sign of awareness of his presence. Dexter moaned, forcing air into his chest. He made another garbled noise as he tried to curse.
Finally, when Jenna’s eyes flickered across him, he forced himself able to act. His legs cramped, refusing to obey, but his arms were his to control again and his pulled himself across the floor in her direction. The muscles taut in his neck and throat, he nevertheless forced words out in a hiss.
“Jenna, come away from there,” he said. As Lorren had predicted, she showed no sign of recognition or of even paying attention to him.
“I’ve not released you from service,” he continued. “Lord of Deepingdale or not, you’re my first mate! The Voidhawk needs you!”
At the base of four stone steps that led up to a dais upon which the throne sat, he searched around in frustration. Her continued ambivalence left a hollowness in his stomach and a growing heat of rage in the back of his head. He saw the bed nearby, causing his eyes to narrow suspiciously.
“Alright,” he said, looking back at her again. “I need you. I made a mistake — it won’t happen again.”
“The mistake wasn’t what happened in the hold, I mean,” Dexter added quickly. “I mean acting funny and losing track of what’s important.”
“I figure if Kragor and Jodyne could be together on the ‘Hawk, and if Rosh and Willa are being friendly…well, there’s no good reason why the Captain can’t have his first mate as his only mate.”
Still Jenna showed no outward signs of paying attention to him. Gritting his teeth voluntarily instead of involuntarily now, Dexter made his way to his knees and then drove a foot that was half-numb and half in agony into the ground. He rose up and stood unsteadily for a long moment, then took his first step on the stairs.
“I’d be thankful if you’d show me some sign, that door put a serious hurt on me,” Dexter admitted. When still no sign was forthcoming he sighed and took another halting step.
Focusing now on being ambulatory, he made his way up the remaining steps. The numbness in his legs was fading and it was being replaced with the agony of fried nerves and singed flesh. Finally Dexter stood swaying slightly before the throne. He looked down at her and realized his hand was resting upon the hilt of his sword.
“Jenna,” he said her name again, drawing some strength from it. “I hear tell that this happens every so often. There’s nothing right about it,” he added.
“Maybe you can hear me, maybe you can’t. There’s something going on here that’s not you and not me. In fact, I got an idea what it is, and I won’t stand by it.” Dexter had leaned closer as talked, hoping his words might lull her into distraction.
The Captain of the Voidhawk lunged forward, losing his balance and falling as he did so. His finger closed around the amulet that hung from Jenna’s neck and pulled it — and her — to the ground with him.
Jenna screamed as though burned and tried to pull away from him. Dexter’s fingers, exhausted from the electrical discharge, nearly slipped free of the amulet. Her lips began to move, and a few breaths later words were issued from them. Dexter felt the hair stand up on his arms as he instinctively knew she was casting a spell. His Jenna, who knew no magic, was casting a spell on him.
“I’m sorry,” he said as his hand came across and smashed into her jaw. He had little leverage to throw the punch, but it served its purpose and ruined her spell.
Off balance, Jenna was able to pull back from him. Dexter’s fingers barely hung on to the amulet now, and he was stretched out in a bad position in order to do so. He looked up and saw her mouthing more arcane words. He tried to yank her forward by the amulet, but instead he felt a numbing cold streak down his arm from where her hand latched onto his forearm. Try as he might to ignore it, she was able to yank away from him and he fell forward onto his other arm.
Gasping in agony, Dexter put a block on his nerves and felt only the driving need to get that amulet. His vision tinged with red and black spots, he lunged towards her. He slammed clumsily into the elf, who was also off balance, and propelled the two of them down the steps of the dais. Dexter wrenched the necklace away from her, ripping it over her head and bringing some hair with it. Jenna made no noise until it was removed, and then she let loose a blood curdling scream that set Dexter’s spine to tingling.
She leapt on him, trying to reclaim it. He tucked it against his belly and struggled to get away from her — or to get her away from him. A few elbows into the side dislodged her, but she was coming back for him quickly. He dodged to the side, bouncing off a statue as he did so, and was surprised to find her so easily being duped. Yet again her behavior was inconsistent with who she was.
Dexter struggled up the stairs before she could recover, making his way towards the weathered old man lying in the bed. The man’s eyes were open and he stared hatefully towards Dexter, yet he seemed incapable of rising up. Dexter looked down at him and drew his sword with his right hand while the amulet was still clutched tightly in his left. He heard Jenna coming behind him and he knew his time was short.
“She’s not your puppet!” Dexter spat at the man, then threw the amulet on his chest. Less than a heartbeat later he felt the burning tug of steel as it entered his lower back.
Dexter looked down in shock, seeing the red coated blade of Jenna’s rapier emerging from his belly. He looked up at the old man and saw a hateful glee burning in his gaze. “She belongs to no man!” Dexter said, and drove his magical blade through both the amulet and the former Lord’s chest, pinning him to the bed.
Jenna and the old man screamed in unison. Dexter slid to his knees and used the edge of the bed to keep himself up from falling over. At least Jenna had let go of the sword that impaled him. A moment later Jenna gasped.
* * * *
A long moment of silence followed Rosh’s statement. Willa looked at him, uncertain of what to say. Rosh turned to meet her gaze and shrugged again. “My ma told me when I was a twelve.”
“I left home a couple years later. Had to find him and tell him who I was. Then…well…” Rosh trailed off into silence again.
“My mother was a slave,” Willa said. “She tried to care for me as a baby, I’m told, but she took ill. There’s no money to be had in healing a slave.”
Willa hid her bitterness well, but some still shone through. “Some of the others that owned us all tried to take care of me, but they had trouble enough getting by. I was forced to find my own way begging, stealing, and learning various skills.”
She looked at Rosh and smiled sadly, “I never knew who my father was.”
Rosh grunted. “Sometimes that’s the best.”
She nodded, hugging him with her arm consolingly. “I pretend I ain’t got a dad,” he said. “Truth is I don’t — he don’t want nothing to do with me. He didn’t even offer me a spot on his crew when I found him; just told me I was a worthless bastard and to get out of his sight.”
Willa cringed, imagining how that must have crushed the boy version of the man she now clung to. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Rosh chuckled. “Don’t be. He was right. Took me a few years to figure it out though.”
“Rosh! You’re not worthless! I can’t imagine anyone-“
Rosh put a finger to her lips to silence her. He chuckled. “You’re damn right I ain’t! Just took some time for me to figure it out. I got being a sumbitch in my blood,” he explained. “I know I can be good at it too — Dexter tell you where he found me?”
Willa shook her head. “I was working for pirates, not doing nothing but following in his footsteps.”
“How’d you end up on the Voidhawk?”
“Dexter talked to me,” he said. “Made me realize there might be more to it. Made me think killing and stealing ain’t the only way to make some gold.”
Rosh chuckled. “The Captain don’t know none of this, mind you.”
Willa nodded and smiled, then kissed him. “He’ll never hear it from me.”
Rosh nodded, then smiled. “There it is,” he said.
“What?”
“That itch — it’s back.”
Willa, startled at the topic change, looked around. It was a pretty enough town, but it seemed to have lost some of its appeal. Where once she had found no flaws, now she saw patches of grass that were not perfectly colored. Other imperfections were evident as well: shingles that were not placed quite right on roofs, potholes in the roads, shutters and doors that were not a perfect fit, and other such anomalies.
“What happened?” Willa asked, confused.
Rosh shrugged. “Best get back to the ‘Hawk — Dex’ll be wondering about us.”
“Rosh!” Willa said, remembering the festival through the fog of alcohol that had blurred the evening. “Jenna! She’s the new Lord here!”
Rosh cursed, then apologized. Willa smiled, amazed to have such an effect on the big man. “You’re right, let’s get back quick. Something ain’t right about this place. The Captain won’t stand for that, least not if he’s half as smart as I am.”
Willa laughed and rolled off of the big man. She reached for her clothes and blushed when her exposed position provoked a sharp intake of breath from Rosh and then a wolf whistle from him.
“Dex!” Jenna cried out, rushing to his side and holding him steady as he kneeled next to the bed.
Dexter looked up at her, a painful smile on his face. “You owe me again,” he said.
Jenna’s lips quivered and she nodded. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes and she buried her face in his neck. “I don’t care how long I live,” she whispered to him, “I’ll never repay you — you’ll have to keep me by your side the whole time.”
Dexter glanced down at the steel impaling him. “Deal,” he whispered.
“I heard everything you said,” she said. “I forgive you.”
“If you heard me, why’d you go and stab me?”
“I wasn’t in control,” she said. “I…oh Dex — I’m so sorry! That amulet took over. I thought you had left me and I just gave in to it. I didn’t care anymore.”
“Your part of my crew,” he said, gasping as he shifted slightly and fresh tremors of pain wracked him. “I don’t abandon my crew.”
Jenna smiled around her tears. “Just part of the crew?”
“Well-“
“Captain! Jenna!” Logan and Bekka said as they poked their head in through the broken doors. Keshira was there as well, and she pushed through them to hurry to Dexter’s side.
“Captain, you are hurt — how can I fix you?” Keshira asked him, concern and worry evident on her face.
“There’s no fixing this,” Dexter said, glancing down again. “You can carry me to the ‘Hawk though.” He grimaced as he shifted, feeling the blade sawing inside of him. Blood stained his shirt and he felt lightheaded as well.
“I need to see it one more time,” he gasped.
Jenna nodded to Keshira, unable to speak. Logan hurried forward and knelt down beside him. “Cut his shirt off,” he ordered, interposing himself between Keshira and Dexter.
Dexter swam in and out of consciousness, his head rolling as he fought to stay awake a little longer. He knew that sleep meant death, and he was not going without a fight.
“Do it!” Logan yelled, surprising the others into action. Bekka stood nearby and she lunged forward to grab his shirt and slip a small knife she had into it, cutting it free and pulling it away from him.
Blood coated Dexter’s stomach and back. The wound looked clean, around the blade, but overall it was an obscene picture. Dexter shook his head and hissed in pain. The movement caused more blood to leak out as well.
“Dexter, we have to remove the blade — you’ll have to fight to stay awake while I try to mend your wounds,” Logan said.
“You can heal him?” Jenna asked, hope stilling the tremors in her voice.
Logan nodded, though his face did not show the look of confidence she had hoped to see. “It is a terrible wound, but I might be able to save him if he does not lose too much blood.”
“Do it,” Dexter growled, barely following the conversation.
Logan nodded. “Jenna, when I nod again, pull the blade free. Keshira hold him still, and Bekka, do what you can to stop the blood from escaping him.”
Logan bowed his head and forced his breathing calm while he summoned up the priestly magic he would need. He began to chant, invoking the powers of his distant God, and nodded when he was ready.
Dexter gasped and stiffened when Jenna pulled the blade free in a single clean jerk. Keshira held him still easily, though he writhed in agony. Bekka pushed against the slit in his back to stem the flow of the dark red blood. Logan’s fingers were quickly coated in blood as well as he channeled his energies into Dexter’s belly, seeking out and repairing the severed tissues as best he could.
The priest focused and concentrated for nearly a dozen minutes before at last he gasped and slumped over. Dexter had passed out a few minutes before, unable to hold himself awake anymore. Jenna had been talking to him and cradling his head while Keshira held him still. All in all, it made for too many people in a small area, but that was the last thing on anyone’s mind.
“Is he going to live?” Jenna asked, trembling as she held him. He seemed so frail and cold against her, she feared she had lost him.
Logan held her gaze at her for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he admitted, sounding weary. The man was exhausted; he looked as though he had aged ten years in a span of as many minutes. “I am far from my God. My power wanes with the great distance to him. I was able to help, but he is weak and if he is not careful, he could tear the tissues within him.”
“Keshira, carry him back gently,” Jenna bade her. The pleasure golem did not even nod, she simply picked up the Captain and cradled him carefully in her arms.
Bekka aided Logan to his feet, then he and Bailynn led the way out of the throne room and back down the tower. Jenna kept glancing back and Logan slowly felt his strength returning. They passed through the staircase and the foyer. The gargoyles lay dead, torn apart by Keshira and bludgeoned by Logan.
The hole Keshira had made was down a side passage, but now that the tower’s master was dead, the entrance was open before them. They passed through it and found they could see the townsfolk assembling in the town. “We should hurry, I expect they’ll be angry,” Logan advised.
They made as much haste as they dared with the wounded captain, reaching the Voidhawk before Constable Lorren brought the assembled villagers to meet them. Keshira placed the captain in his bunk then left Jenna alone with him.
“You can’t die,” she told him when they were alone. “We all owe you too much, how can you hope to collect on it if you’re not here?”
She leaned in close to him and pressed her lips to his alarmingly cool flesh. “To the void with the rest of them,” she whispered. “Just hold on for the things I can give you. Those stolen minutes in the hold were nothing, I promise you that!”
She kissed him on the lips again and stood up. She wiped the tears from her eyes and made her way out. A few months back, she would never have believed she would be crying over a man, especially a human! She could hardly believe it herself.
She emerged onto the deck and came across Bekka first. “He has to live — I owe him many years of being miserable for what he’s done to me.”
Bekka’s brow furrowed in confusion, then smoothed and she nodded her understanding.
“What’s going on here?” Rosh asked, seeing the mob approaching the Voidhawk. He tightened his grip on Willa’s hand and she understood. They took off at a run, angling ahead of the mob to make it up the dock and to the Voidhawk before the villagers could intercept them.
“Where’s Dexter?” Rosh asked, clearly upset. “I got to talk to him!”
“He’s below, recovering.”
Rosh grunted and pushed towards the stairway below deck. Jenna stepped in front of him, halting him. “He needs to rest; he’s no good to you right now.”
Rosh glared at her then gruffly said, “I don’t care what you two did to wear him out, there’s a bunch of people coming here and I got to tell him about it!”
Jenna glared back. “We know they’re coming,” she said. “We saw them already. Stand a post in case we have to repel them. Bekka’s already sitting the helm and getting ready.”
“Look,” Rosh said, “I never met that man at the festival before — I ain’t who he says I am but I bet he’s stirred up a nest of trouble.”
“Rosh,” Jenna said to him. “I don’t know what business you have or what you’ve done, but this is not about you.”
“It ain’t?” Rosh asked, surprised. He covered quickly, but too late to avoid an exasperated look on Jenna’s face. “Of course it ain’t. Must be your fault. Thought you was supposed to be their new queen or something?”
“Mind a post and keep your tongue to yourself,” she snapped at him. Grumbling, he moved off and helped the even more confused Xander to get the rigging and the sails set up in case they needed to set sail. The Constable led the villagers onto the dock and approached the ship. He did a double take when he saw Jenna standing atop the gangplank, a hand on the sword at her side, the same sword that had been stained with her lover’s blood.
“My Lady, why are you not at the tower?”
“I’m not your Lady,” she said. “You’ve no Lord, he’s dead.”
There were gasps amongst the mob. “How did he die?”
“He tried to take control of me — to take over my body and soul. He died with a sword through his chest,” she said. “You are free of his sadistic rule.”
“If what you say is true…”
“It is,” she said, interrupting.
“I… I must think on this. It seems as though a veil has been lifted, and I am confused. I trust we cannot keep you here without great loss of life. Will you wait and tell me more after I see the tower myself?”
Jenna thought on it for a long minute then nodded. “Aye, we will wait.”
“Where is your Captain?”
“He is resting, the fight with the wizard was difficult,” she said, not wanting to admit that she had been the one to run him through.
Several men waited at the dock, keeping an eye on the Voidhawk and crew. The others went with the constable, heading up to the tower and seeing with their own eyes what had happened. When they returned an hour later, the constable brought with them Dexter’s sword.
“It is as you say,” he admitted. “With every passing moment I see things more clearly. I am an old man now, but in my youth why would I wish to stay in a small place such as this? It is not the paradise I had dreamed it to be.”
“This is your Captain’s sword, I believe. It is a fine weapon and I remember seeing it upon his hip,” he said, walking up the gangplank.
“I admit I do not know what to do now. We have always had the protection and governance of our Lord. I do not hold you at fault. Indeed, I feel gratitude for you opening our eyes. Many of our people came from the stars, and have stayed against their will without even knowing it.”
Rosh nodded from where he watched nearby. He had been willing to stay as well. He looked to Willa and she met his gaze. She had similar thoughts.
“You’ve been ruling them for a while now.”
Everybody turned, surprised to hear the words coming from behind them. Dexter stood, leaning heavily against the stairway railing. He walked across the deck, his face pale. “Constable, your Lord stayed in his tower minding his business and left you to run Deepingdale. He used you like cattle, stealing a body when he needed one so he could cheat death.”
“Now you can live for yourself. Look about, the town needs fixing with the magic gone. You’ve a fine port, and this is a fine place for trading. We’ll spread the word of your location on the charts if you’re of a mind for us to do it.”
He glanced at the other ships in the harbor. “Some fine ships here too, sell them off or make a navy to protect yourself. There’s plenty of them that’d be too happy to turn this into their private base…”
The constable followed Dexter’s gaze, eyeing the ships thoughtfully. He nodded as the ideas meshed with his own and he put a spin on them. “Captain, I think you’ve done a great deed for Deepingdale today. Are you sure you’d not like to be the Lord instead? Free of magic, that is.”
Dexter smiled weakly and shook his head. “Dreams only constable. The Voidhawk is enough for me. I’ve a fine ship and the best crew to be had. I got no right wanting anything more — that’d just be greedy.”
He nodded, smiling in appreciation. “There are better ships here too, can I at least offer you one of them instead of the Voidhawk?”
Without turning or even thinking about it, Dexter shook his head. He swayed a little on his feet, and Jenna went to him to hold him steady. She put herself under his arm to look as though she was simply embracing him rather than keeping him from passing out.
“There’s no ship better than the Voidhawk,” she answered for him. He smiled at her, then searched the faces of his crew. Even Rosh, grudgingly, nodded his head in agreement.
“Then stay as long as you wish, at least,” Lorren said. “We owe you a debt that will be hard to repay.”
Dexter nodded and thanked him, then let Jenna escort him back to his quarters. The bandages they had placed on him showed fresh bleeding and she changed them to be certain he had not re-injured himself. Nonetheless, Jenna proceeded to let him know what she thought of his antics.
“Hush,” he told her. “Somebody had to deal with them — leaving you and Rosh to run things, there’s no telling what would have happened! We’d probably end up in some lousy tub running for our life.”
Jenna’s scowl made him laugh, which in turn made him grimace in pain. “Go away, women, I need some rest.”
She nodded. “Stay in bed this time,” she admonished him. “That way I can punish you properly when you get better!”