War of the Princes 02: Dragoon (8 page)

Chapter 14:
A Historian

The following day was milder in all respects. The sun had chased away the clouds and a
fair wind gusted, pushing us in the right direction. Sterling wasn't the picture of good health, but he was feeling better. Kyle lounged around the bridge trying to make small talk with Carmine, his troubled sleep forgotten.

I didn't mention to anyone that a
huge bolt of lightning had struck me while I was frolicking like an idiot on the deck of the ship during a massive storm. Or that I was haunted by inner turmoil, feeling myself pulled in separate directions when I thought of mom. I was worried about Ruby. The sensation of homesickness made me angry. I didn't fit in there anymore, why did I need to miss it so much?

I had to separate my thoughts of my stepmom as my mother figure. When I thought of my birth mother's name, Kendra Kestrel, I felt nothing at all. She'd left her name behind the same way she'd left her role as my mother in the trash. Only focusing on the code name,
Paperglass To Be, helped me regain my bearings, but even that was difficult.

It was becoming clearer to me that my near death experience with Commander Stakes had left my Abilities crippled. If I were at full strength, I wouldn't need to be so specific. Struggling to produce lightning for Shadow Chasers the night before confirmed it.

I hated my ring of scars more than ever.

The fact that our heading didn't change was nice in the sense that I didn't need to be glued to the bridge with Carmine. It was unnerving in another way. If
Paperglass, wasn't moving, it meant that she had been captured. When my stomach became queasy it wasn't because of the rocking ship. Would I be too late to save her? Was she dead?

All the while, I felt
empty. I was here, in this strange place, with three guys. None of them were Rune. He might be dead too, for all I knew. I might be chasing ghosts. Who was to say Stakes hadn’t permanently damaged my Abilities by nearly draining me? Our efforts could be all for nothing.

I wouldn't mention my doubts
to the others. They didn't need to worry about me. I was fine, more or less. It was too perfect a day to ruin with eerie stories and heartache.

Even Dylan had put on a better face. He helped me most of the day, teaching me my role as a fake
Historian. It was a perfect camouflage. Apparently, Prince Raserion loved history and documentation, so long as they were entirely skewed in his favor. He could never have enough books illustrating his splendor and Prince Varion's failure. Because of this, he regularly employed flocks of Historians, in all reaches of his kingdom, allowing them passage everywhere, save his private chambers. They could come and go freely, often working with the nobility of each region, upon agreement that they produce a volume by the end of the year. It was said that Prince Raserion's library filled the walls of his entire inner palace.

“Don't slouch,” Dylan said poking me in the back with a ruler. “We can't have you slumping your way through high company.”

“
I'm not,” I complained, trying to stand up taller.

If one thing brightened my day, it was the incredible clothing Dylan suggested I wear.

I was clad in a pressed blouse beneath a midnight corset, a pair of fitted black trousers that made Carmine jealous, and elegant ankle boots. Bits of red embellishment were woven into every piece of the outfit, including a sleeve, the collar lining, and a leafy pattern down one leg. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail because Dylan hadn't the vaguest idea how to braid my hair in the proper fashion. I was grateful he didn't try. The pair of gloves I was to wear were black lace and fingerless.

I wasn't thrilled about wearing black and red, head to toe, because they were the Prince's colors, but good gravity, I looked amazing! Like a woman, not a kid who snuck away from home after school.

“You look adequate,” Dylan told me, disgusted. “If you'd stop flopping your torso over like a fish! That's it. There's no hope. You're going to get us killed.”

“
This is the best I can do,” I said, mostly ignoring him as I gawked at my reflection in the tall mirror. I was glad the blouse covered my scars.

“
Your accent is going to be a problem,” Dylan said, rapping the ruler lightly against his shoulder. “Mount Yumin. That's where you're from. It's remote, and travelers rarely come or go. They're known for having strange accents. Let's hope that's good enough.”

“
Mount Yumin. Mount Yumin,” I repeated. “Got it.”

“You must wear this brooch at all times. It identifies your occupation. Few people will question you with me around, but it’s better to be safe and all that.” He handed the pin to me.

The brooch was round, gunmetal grey, and surprisingly intricate. It depicted a strong, masculine figure, standing over the crumpled form of a man that was clearly dead. “It’s ugly,” I complained, and pinned it on anyway.

“
You’ll find it quite beautiful when it saves your life. I’ve put a leather-bound book with a lock among your things. Never, ever, leave your book behind. Historians cling to them so they can write at any given moment. Oh, and bow to the Commanders and Margraves, if we see them. Historians admire no one more. And for all our sakes, don't use your Abilities. Only Dragoons have them.”

“
Is there any chance we'll see the Prince?”

“
It's unlikely. He doesn't make appearances often. You may be surprised by this, but life doesn't begin and end when Katelyn Kestrel walks in the room.”

“
Snappy. So, it's that time of the month, Lady Axton?”

Dylan looked at me, his eyes smoldering with hatred.
“I wonder what kind of a pile we'll find your mother in.”

“
Kat!” Kyle said, swinging the door open. “Wow... Kat. Um. There's land!”

“
How disappointing,” Dylan noted. “You've all done away with your silver eyes.”

“
They're grey,” Kyle said flatly. “Come on Kat!”

The two of us rushed out the door, while Dylan trailed behind. I was met with sunshine in my eyes, and salt air in my lungs. Kyle had been right. We were coming up on a massive body of land, and fast. Swathed in a gauzy white haze, it covered the entire horizon ahead of us. Like the brush strokes of a painting, I could make out the farthest mountains in the distance.

We hadn't reached the fog, ourselves. Brilliant sunshine beamed down. The water was so blue that day, I wished I could capture the color and wear it. Shadows traced over our heads. The sea birds were back, flying with us toward the continent.

We weren't the only people on the
ocean. I could see a few small boats closer to shore. They looked like dots, spangling the water, barely visible in the haze. The military ships were far easier to distinguish, and there were more of them. Hovering above the sea as we did, they looked like fearsome clothes irons, gusting steam or smoke. I knew that our distance from them belied their actual size. They were great monsters of steel, and likely packed with the Prince's army. I counted thirty of them.

A chill ran down my spine, despite the warmth of the beaming sun.

Kyle and I were standing on the front upper deck when Sterling came to join us. Color had replaced his sickly pallor, but for all the strength of the athlete, he slumped, resting his arms heavily on the railing. Clearly troubled, he was frowning. Who could blame him, after a twenty-four hour puking session?

“
I don't like this,” he said.

“
Neither do I,” I agreed, hoping I wouldn't be the next victim of his upheavals.

“
No, any of it. We shouldn't be here.”

“
It's
your
fault that we are,” I said, realizing instantly how much I sounded like Dylan. Gross. “I'm sorry, Sterling. That's not right either. I made the choice to come. I won't blame you, but if you hadn't turned me in, no one would have found out about my Abilities. Officer Loring wouldn't have asked me to come.”

“
And you may not ever have had the chance to save your mother,” Kyle interjected with a gentleness in his voice.

“
I'm sorry too,” Sterling said.

“
Sorry for following me around for a year? For using Ruby to get to me?”

“
I didn't! I mean, I had the sense about you, but I didn't use Ruby,” he said earnestly.

“
What sense?” Kyle asked.

“
Sterling here has Abilities too. He can sense them, and if he touches you, he'll know exactly what they are.”

“
It takes some concentration.”

“
You're not the only one with Abilities in Haven, Kat,” Kyle said, looking at Sterling differently.

“
It seems that way. I'd have been really excited about that too, if he didn't have me arrested for shocking Calvin Cale,” I said.

Kyle raised his eyebrows.

“I had to,” Sterling put in, looking as though he desperately wanted me to understand. “It's my family. It's what we've done... for generations.”

“
Really? You point out other people with Abilities?”

He nodded.

“How many people in Haven have them?” I asked, excited to finally get some answers. I knew my dad and Constable Mason had been holding back information from me.

“
I can't tell you that,” he said looking back out at the coastline ahead of us.

“
What do you mean? Why not?”

“
I swore an oath. Everyone in my family does.”

“
You have to be able to tell us something,” I persisted. “Does anyone I know have an Ability?”

“
I can't.”

“
You're not going to give me anything? How am I supposed to trust you after what you did?” I demanded. Was my life a broken record?

“
Trust me? I'm following Haven's laws, and helping to enforce them. Calvin Cale had no way to defend against what you did to him and he ended up in the hospital. I'm not saying he was right, but neither were you. I have less of a reason to trust you than you have to trust me, but here I am.”

My mouth fell open, but I couldn't say anything. I hadn't looked at it that way.

“And of all places, we're in the Outside,” he said, frowning at the ocean. “No one from Haven should be here. I have to help you, and I will, any way I can. What I won't do is break my family oath.”

I sighed
, frustrated, and leaned over the railing. “Figures.”

“
What about Carmine?” Kyle asked with interest. “You're not breaking your oath if you tell us about the people here. That kind of information could be really helpful.”

Sterling thought about it and seemed to agree.
“Nothing.”

“
Nothing what?” I asked.

“
Carmine has no Abilities.”

“
Really,” Kyle mused.

It made our pilot's situation even more precarious. I knew what it
was like, having once believed that I had no power in a world of supercharged tyrants. She was either very brave or very desperate to leave the safety of her homeland to find work here.

I couldn't remain angry
at Sterling. I didn't like what he'd done in Haven, but if I didn't take responsibility for my actions, I'd be just like Dylan. Besides, he did just help us learn a little more about our new friend. It was settled. Sterling was forgiven.

“
I promise you,” Sterling said, meeting my eyes again. “Ruby has nothing to do with any of this. I care about her.”

“
Okay, mister romantic, we get it,” Kyle groaned.

Sterling cracked Kyle lightly on the back of the head.

“Ow!” Kyle whined. “This is why I don't like hanging out with guys like you. Machines don't hit me. Except for that one time… no, two? Okay, they hit me too. But I still don't like hanging out with you.”

Sterling grinned, straightening up.
“It's good for you. Builds character.”

I couldn't help but smile. As it turned out, I was glad the two of them were with me. It was us against the world, and with my Abilities,
Sterling’s senses and Kyle's genius, I was confidant that we were a force to be reckoned with.

My sentiments wouldn't last.

C
hapter 15: Bright Day, Dark World

I hadn't been expecting the fo
g to have a smell, but it did. The scent of fire and dust was thick on the air. The nearer we came to the coastline, the stronger it became. We crept ever closer to the Prince's ships, passing one within a hundred feet. It towered over us, a patchwork of black iron and rust. The chugging and low howling of its engines assaulted our ears, and the wind generated by their hover turbines sprayed us with mist. Sterling was the first to go below. I remained only as long as my curiosity outweighed my sense of foreboding. The other three ships weren’t far off. They sat still, like sentinels, as we glided between them. Grabbing Kyle by the arm, I fled to the enclosed bridge of the Flying Fish.

“
Are you certain this is the right course?” Carmine asked, making no attempt to disguise her concern. She clutched the wheel as though she was ready to spin it in another direction at any moment.

I faced the tall panels of glass, and looked out at the world. The haze did little to block the intensity of the sun. Instead of blue, the sky was bright white.

The Pull went haywire and I felt myself wanting to turn and run the way we'd come. My wild instinctual response to our course made me lose confidence in myself, and my Abilities. I clenched my fist, hoping to ball up the tiniest flick of lightning in my palm. I needed the Spark to reassure me that I wasn't helpless, but it wouldn't come. I lamented, crumbling a bit on the inside, and found myself wishing for a big mug of hot chocolate. I took a step to the left, The Pull guiding me to the closest cocoa.

Gravity! What's wrong with me? I don't need de
ssert drinks, I need to get through this and get home!

After taking a second to analyze the nagging suspicion that I was losing my mind, I stubbornly focused my thoughts on finding
Paperglass. The familiar unseen force begged me to move forward. We were pointed in the exact direction that I wanted to walk.

“
This is right,” I said, hoping no one had noticed my momentary meltdown.

What did Stakes do to me?

Carmine leaned over to study the map pinned to the slanted corkboard on the far left end of the control console. “Then there's no question. It's Cape Hill.”

“
This was a horrible idea,” Dylan scowled, looking statuesque in his stylish outwear. For all of the flattery his slick, dark grey fitted coat provided his already fine physique, I could still barely stand to look at him.

“
No. We'll be fine,” Carmine decided. It was like she believed her confidence could change the outcome of the situation. I liked her all the better for that.

“
What's the significance of Cape Hill?” Sterling asked from where he crouched against the back wall.

“
Well, children, gather ‘round,” Dylan said. “This is the divided Kingdom of Lastland. The eastern and southern regions of the kingdom are wastelands, and the Western and Northern, known and distinguished by those very names, are locked in everlasting war. We are in the
West
. Am I moving too quickly for you? No? We’re in a region called the Reedy Coast. Breakwater, Alder Island, Sliver Lake, and Downing are all provinces within it, and Cape Hill is the capital. All provinces are governed by common-lords or ladies, and observed by Commanders if there is a military presence. All provincial leaders, whether military or civilian, answer to the Margrave, who operates out of the capital. There is only one rank higher than Margrave, and that is Prince Raserion himself. In total, our kingdom is made up of three regions. Three Margraves.”

“
And they’re all very busy. Prince Varion's army has been pressing toward the city for five months,” Carmine added. “Trade with the North has been all but cut off by the siege. From what I hear, there’s a blockade at the border. The only supply route is by water. It's been a profitable time to deal in goods.”

Something told me dealing in goods was much safer than carrying a boatload of wanted persons.

“Most importantly,” Dylan continued. “It is currently the seat of Prince Raserion.”

“
The Prince of Shadows,” Carmine said under her breath.

“
A nickname from his enemies,” Dylan said, flicking his hazel eyes to hers.

“
Why would he be there?” Kyle asked with alarm.

Dylan
lifted his chin to look casually away from our ship's pilot. “Our dear Prince has taken to living in whichever regional capital is closest to the warfront in any given year. With the battle creeping up on the Reedy Coast, Cape Hill is where he sits.”

“
He's not a coward then,” Sterling said.

“
Cowards come in many forms,” Dylan said, looking at me.

“
Yeah,” I answered, not amused. “They do.”

I noticed that Carmine's lips remained carefully shut on the matter. By her subtle fidgeting, I could tell she wanted to say something. It must have been difficult, living in the land of the enemy. The fear was something I could relate to, and currently, it was using my stomach as a trampoline.

“I thought you said we wouldn't see the Prince,” I reminded Dylan, turning to face him.

He shifted uncomfortably, tugging the edges of his fashionable coat to destroy the single wrinkle that had formed on the fabric.
“We won't. It's not like he parades up and down the streets turning his steely gaze on every lowly mortal he passes.”

“
Why does that not make me feel better at all?” I grumbled to myself.

The fog around us was thickening
, and so was the stench that accompanied it. Even in the forward cabin, it wafted in. As we cruised through the mire, we passed vague shapes that might have been fishing boats or ships. It was impossible to tell. All we could see with any clarity was the bronze green water just below our hovering ship. The mist was churning where we blasted it up and away from the sea surface. In the water, something small bobbed into view. It was slick, round and dark.

Kyle and I
slowly leaned in toward the glass. The object rolled in the water, aggravated by the gale of our turbines, and dipped out of view.

“
Was that a body?” I asked, rigid.

“
No,” Kyle responded quickly.

“
I think that was a body,” I said, my voice kicking up an octave.

“
Nope. No it wasn't. It could have been anything,” Kyle told himself.

“
Ugh! I knew it!” I exclaimed, shivering and hopping spastically away from the broad front window.

Dylan grimaced.
“Are you
certain
this is where we need to be?”

I nodded, clutching my hands tightly against my chest. Another shiver snaked down my back and I wriggled my torso.

“Then you'd better work on staying in character, Historian,” the young lord told me.

Forcing myself, I lowered my arms to my sides and immediately felt like a child whose lucky blanket had been torn off.

“You mean that really was a person?” Sterling was plainly stunned. “Stop the ship! We have to help them!”

My jaw was tightly closed. I pitied the rude awakening he was about to face, just as much as I sympathized with him.

Carmine turned from the helm, regarding him gently. “He's dead, lamb. There's nothing we can do for him.”

“
Why? How?” Sterling stammered, pacing like a bull.

“
It's inconvenient, cruel and messy.” Dylan told him.

“
It's war,” Carmine clarified. “People die.”

Sterling frowned,
leaning against the wall of maps. “I've... I've just never seen anything like that.”

“Welcome to the big and ugly.”
Carmine said, focusing on the helm and our course once again. “Now, I could be wrong about this, but I think we may have come at a bad time.”

The wind outside picked up, pushing the fog away from us. We were rapidly approaching a broad inlet that cut through the rocky shoreline. A pair of craggy rusted towers framed the mouth of the waterway, and a solitary weather worn
dock lay beneath the one to the right. The passage up the channel was wide enough to fit four of the Prince's massive ships, but the wreckage of two unfortunate vessels blocked half the space. Half sunk, they were both belching flame and smoke that added to the fog. Six heavily armored boats, bellies in the water, blocked the rest of the inlet. There were swarms of people along both ends of the shore, but not so much as a town to speak of. Diminutive copper boats were ferrying the surviving soldiers from the large, unmoving vessels to the outstretched arm of dock.

“
We're turning around,” Carmine said, spinning the wheel to the left.

“
What? No,” I rushed to her, placing my hand on the wheel. “We have to go this way!”

She pursed her lips.
“Firstly, the channel to Cape Hill’s harbor is blocked, it could be days before we get through. Secondly, you're not paying me enough to enter a war zone.”

“
Bloody hell,” Dylan said under his breath. “Alright, I can't believe I'm saying this, but, we'll raise your payment by twenty-five percent.”

Dylan was being voluntarily helpful. I was impressed.

“No,” Carmine said.

“
Thirty, no higher.”

She looked like she was considering it. Her fingers drummed lightly on the wheel that I still held in place.
“Double.”

Dylan scoffed.
“You've got to be joking!”

“
All three of these people have strange accents and mannerisms. You're smuggling one of them into a siege with a fake identity. Now, I don't have a problem with that, really, I don't, but my ship is at risk, along with my livelihood. Double or we spin about to Breakwater.”

“
Double? For the sake of this rusty old bucket?”

“
Triple and I'll be your return trip,” she said shrewdly, lifting her chin.

“
What makes you think we're going back?” Dylan snapped.

“
You're a lord of Breakwater, and fake identities only go unnoticed for so long,” she said, flicking her eyes to me. “Something tells me you may need a ride in a hurry.”

“
Deal!” I said, lifting my hand from the wheel.

She smiled at me, with a twinkle of excitement in her eyes.
“Wise choice.”

“
No!” Dylan was appalled. “You're fleecing us!”

“
I harbor no love for Prince Raserion. Are you willing to gamble that other pilots and captains share my opinions?”

“
At this point, I’m willing to risk it!” Dylan snapped. 

“
Dylan,” I said. “We need her.”

He looked at me, flaring his nostrils.
“Fine. Waste my brother's money. It doesn't matter to me.”

I didn’t have the chance to respond to him. He had stormed out the door in an instant.

“Alright, so what’s our move?” I asked Carmine.

“Well, if that compass inside your head is any indication, you need to go to Cape Hill or beyond. This is the only way in to the bay harbor.”

“Can’t we just leave your ship here and go by land?”

“I don’t
leave
my ship anywhere. I’m not going to set her down here and wait either. Have you looked outside? Two destroyers are out there sinking to oblivion as we speak. I’m not idiot enough sit in a war zone and expect to be left alone. No, I’ll wait at Cape Hill harbor.”

“How do we do that if the channel is closed?”

“We wait for this to clear up,” she told me. “Or we leave.”

Something outside caught our attention.
One of the Prince's ships was waving a series of colored flags in our direction.

Carmine’s back straightened.
“Looks like we don’t have a choice. They're instructing us to dock. They're training their weapons on us!”

“
Why?” Kyle asked, distressed.

“
I don't know,” Carmine admitted. Hurriedly, she moved her hands over the control console, flipping switches and pulling levers. We veered right and cruised directly in to the little solitary dock at the mouth of the inlet. I felt and heard the slight hum that meant she was retracting our sails. This time, Carmine lowered the Flying Fish by three feet before carefully setting the ship down in the water beside the battered slip. “Well, Historian, I hope you're ready.”