Chapter 13

Signs of Trouble

A soft winter’s snow drifted down on the ruins where the Thordin brothers slept. Petrov alone was awake in the dark, troubled by a vision. He was pouring over his Author’s Writ and whispering a silent prayer to the Author.

“Please, not Hunter! Don’t let him lose hope,” Petrov said under his breath.

There was a short growl outside the door from one of the dogs, but it went deathly silent just as quickly.

Petrov moved for his sword, grabbing it quickly but feeling the ache in his side. The poison was still moving; it wouldn’t be long before he’d be joining the Author in another story. This much was certain.

The door flew open but nobody was there. Petrov struggled to his feet, holding his sword with honor in front of him.

“You’re too late, Xaul,” Petrov said despite the fact he couldn’t see anyone yet. “You won’t find what you’re looking for here.”

The raspy half-voice that replied seemed to come from nowhere in particular. “Where is it? Where is the Spark!”

“It’s gone, I gave it away,” Petrov said boldly.

“Where…is…it!” said Xaul, seething as he spoke.

“Safe” was Petrov’s reply. “With the Resistance.”

With a long raspy laugh, Xaul stepped out from the shadows, revealing himself at last—first his gleaming eyes then the rest of his form.

“Your Resistance is over,” he said at last. “You and your friends have seen the end of your days. Face it, Aviad is dead and with him the lies you tried to spread to the people—my people.”

“What is it you are afraid of then, Xaul? Why do you hunt us down if you believe it is all a lie?”

“Some lies should never be tolerated,” he hissed. “The fire belongs with us and us alone.”

“You are wrong,” said Petrov. “The fire belongs to all people, to any the Author will choose.”

The last statement angered Xaul most of all.

“Never!” he yelled, igniting the darkened Veritas Sword in his hand. The glow around his blackened sword burned with anger as he lunged at Petrov.

The Commander of the Resistance held his sword firm and closed his eyes, unwilling to fight. With one stroke of Xaul’s sword, Petrov’s story was finished.

The Thordin brothers heard the commotion and ran into the room, only to find it empty. A black X was carved into the rock wall beside the limp body of Petrov, still clinging to his sword.

Without reason, Petrov’s body suddenly burst into flames and disappeared in the blaze.

I woke with a jolt from the terrifying dream, to an anxious knock at the door.

“Hunter, get up,” an urgent voice called. I stumbled to the door and unlocked the bolt, opening it to find Stoney shifting nervously in the hallway.

“What is it?” I asked, staggering slightly.

“Gather yer things. There’s a ship waiting out back. I’ve decided to take you to Torpor meself, but we’ve got to leave tonight.”

“Tonight? Why tonight?” I asked.

“Because you’re being followed.”

“How do you…?”

“I went into town to get some supplies, and I saw a man out of the corner of my eye, lurking in the shadows. He was not from around here, and he kept watching me from under his hood. I don’t think he knows I saw him, but he followed me back here to the inn. He’s watching from across the way, waiting for something.”

“Did he have a belt with a red X on it?” I asked, fearing the worse.

“Yes,” Stoney shot me a look of surprise, “you know him?”

My heart started to pound. Stoney’s response could mean only one thing. My dream was real. Petrov was gone and now Xaul had found us. Stoney was right, we had to get out of here… and fast.

“I’ll get the others; there’s no time to waste,” I said.

Stoney could sense the urgency in my voice and followed the plan without hesitation. In no time at all, Rob, Trista and I slipped out the back door, carrying our only possessions—weapons, the gemstone and the Author’s Writ. We followed Stoney down the staircase and out the back door onto another long wooden walkway.

Looming before us at the end of the platform was a large wooden structure covered in snow and ice. The doors on the front had already been flung open, revealing what was stored inside—a massive sky ship floating midair beneath the rafters of the shed, protected from the elements. It looked for the most part like a small sailing ship—only in place of the sails a large cloth-sewn balloon floated high over the deck. We quickly boarded the vessel and set down our things.

As Stoney readied the ship for departure, I looked back at the inn with the unnerving feeling I had forgotten something.

“Wait,” I whispered, rifling through my backpack. “Where’s Boojum?”

“I dunno,” Rob replied. “I thought he was with you.”

“Wait a minute,” Trista said, trying to catch up with the rest of us. “Boojum came back?”

“Yeah, right before we went to sleep, but he wasn’t in our room this morning,” I explained.

“I thought you said he came back,” Rob replied.

“No…I mean he was…but he’s not there now. He’s…gone…I’ll have to go back and look for him.”

Stoney seemed nervous, “You think that’s wise?”

“No,” I answered, “but we can’t leave him behind. Get the ship ready for launch. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Be careful,” Trista warned.

I lifted my Veritas Sword in response and started back for the inn, making my way carefully toward the main dining room. Even in the darkness I could sense there was someone else there.

Something clattered behind the counter.

“Boojum,” I whispered, “is that you?”

There was no response.

Stooping under the countertop, I spotted a trace of movement at the opposite end. Sure enough, Boojum was huddled beside a toppled garbage bin, a leathery strip of dried meat protruding from his mouth. His glowing eyes examined me suspiciously as he munched on the table scrap he had apparently discovered. He was fingering something metal in his hands.

“What are you doing? What do you have there?” I asked as I approached my furry friend.

“Mine,” Boojum said disagreeably, holding the metal object out. As he did, a small gold chain hung down from his hands and I recognized it at once—Hope’s medallion.

“Hey, how did you…?” I asked, reaching for my neck in grim realization that the Flame was no longer safely with me. “That’s my medallion. Give it back, right now!”

I ducked behind the counter to retrieve the medallion from Boojum just as the front door of the inn burst open. A frigid breeze blew through the room before the door shut once more. Huddled on the floor, I knew without looking that we were not alone. Xaul had entered.

The floorboards creaked softly under the light footsteps of the Xin warrior. I caught a sudden lump in my throat at the thought of it and ducked even lower, pressing my chin nearly to the floor. All I could do now was hope the deadly assassin had not seen or heard me when he entered.

Clutching the sword tightly in my fist, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would remember how to use the weapon in battle. Not that it mattered now. Even if I did, the likelihood that I would be able to match swords with a skilled Xin warrior was highly unlikely. Besides, the last thing I needed was to get in a sword fight. What I needed was to find a way out of here with Boojum and the medallion—but how?

Before I could come up with a plan, Boojum started to rummage for another piece of food, making far too much noise to stay hidden. Xaul didn’t miss it.

The Xin warrior flipped through the air over the counter and landed ten feet from where I lay, his sword raised and ready for battle. The weapon pulsed with an indigo blaze, outlining the darkened blade with an eerie glow. In my dream the man was frightening; in person he was positively terrifying. His silvery eyes hovered in the empty space beneath his hood, freezing the blood in my veins. I felt heavy—unable to move or think.

“What have we here?” he said, spotting the Veritas Sword in my hand. “A code-brat, eh?” His voice was cold as death itself. Xaul stepped forward with a swagger, bringing the tip of his Veritas Sword ever closer.

Boojum dropped his food and darted behind me in fright. I half expected the critter to vanish at the sight of Xaul’s sword. Then again, the blade wasn’t giving off nearly as bright a light as a pure Veritas did. Still, it was every bit as deadly.

“Stand back…or I’ll…” I started.

“You’ll what? I could kill you before you even raised your sword, boy. I have no time for games. Now, tell me who has the Flame.”

I was running out of options. If I ignited the sword to defend myself, Boojum would likely disappear, taking the medallion with him to who knows where. However, without my sword, I was as good as dead anyway so it hardly mattered.

Suddenly, a thought came to mind. If Boojum could transport things with him when he disappeared, then perhaps…just maybe…he could carry a person as well. It was a long shot and I knew it, but under the circumstances I couldn’t think of anything better. Sitting up, I reached behind me and caught a loose hold of Boojum’s tail.

“I will never tell you,” I said nervously, pointing the hilt of my Veritas Sword toward him.

“Suit yourself,” Xaul sneered. “One less Codebearer to deal with.”

He surged forward, swinging his blade down in a fit of rage.

“For the Way of Truth and Life,” I shouted in defense, igniting my sword at the last possible moment. Our blades collided, blocking his first attack and erupting in a powerful explosion of brilliant light. The moment of truth had come. I shut my eyes, hung tight to Boojum’s tail and hoped beyond reason that my plan would work.

With a sudden jolt and an ear piercing scream of pain, everything went hazy and my vision blurred. Boojum had dissipated, pulling me into his altered state of airborne mist. All at once I was being hurled through the air like a rag doll, clinging with desperation to what I perceived to be Boojum’s tail. I caught only momentary glimpses of the room whenever my invisible guide shifted directions. The disorienting sensation was unlike any I had ever felt before. The absence of a body left me feeling transparent, thin and ghost-like.

When at last we reappeared, we fell side by side on the long boardwalk behind the Cliffside Inn. Boojum was weaker than he had ever been before—after transporting. He looked exhausted, singed and slightly annoyed at having pulled my weight with him. His hair and skin had already begun to miraculously heal, but his breathing was slower and his eyes full of pain.

“Sorry about that,” I said, “but it was the only way to save us both. Come on, we have to hurry!”

I picked up my worn-out pet with care and cradled him under my arm like a football. Racing across the deck toward the sky ship I waved my free arm at the others. The furnace had not yet warmed enough to work the propellers, but Stoney understood my signal and wasted no time in shoving off.

“Quick, grab an oar!” he called out to Rob, pointing to a long pole that hung out over the side. With a great shove of the oar against the dock, the two pushed the vessel away from the inn as I jumped on board. The ship slid silently out into the open expanse known simply as the Void.

We were out no more than fifty feet when Xaul bolted down the dock toward our craft. For a moment I almost believed he might leap out across the gap of nothingness, but he thought better of it at the last moment and held back.

He came to a stop at the edge of the dock and locked his angry silvery eyes with mine. Those eyes, those bright and powerful eyes held more than simply a challenge in them. In that moment I knew he was committed to my destruction. Then, he turned coldly away and entered the inn once more. Seconds later, the inn burst into flames, the fiery tongues lighting the foggy sky.

Poor Boojum was still so exhausted he barely even flinched at the sight of the furious blaze, though I could tell it did bother him. After sheepishly handing over Hope’s medallion, he gratefully accepted being put back into the safe, dark quarters of my backpack.

“Funny,” Stoney said as he watched the Cliffhanger Inn burn away and fall off the ledge. “I always thought the old place would crumble into the Void while I slept. Never thought I’d watch it burn.”

Rob, who was standing beside us, looked a bit queasy at the thought of having slept there for any time at all. As much as he was glad to be off the ledge, his new set of circumstances suited him even less. At least at the Cliffhanger there was some sense of solid ground beneath or near you. Out here in the Void, it was nothing but open air.

“Sorry about your inn,” Trista said, realizing how much loss the man had suffered for our sake.

“Ah, don’t be—the place has been anchoring me down ever since I inherited it years ago. Truth be told, I’ve always wanted to head back out into the open air.”

“You’ve been so kind to us; I can’t thank you enough,” I said. Stoney just smiled and waved off the comment.

“It weren’t nothing. Captain Stoney at yer service. The Author is calling you on, and I guess I’m going with ya for now,” he said.

“We couldn’t ask for a better captain,” Trista said, assuring him of our approval.

“Well then, welcome aboard the Bridesmaid. She’s a little unfinished in places, but I can assure you she’s as faithful a ship as any. So, let’s get going, shall we?” he said, stepping up to the helm and pointing out into the hazy sky. “To Torpor!”

Below deck, the furnace that powered the propellers was blazing hot. With a flick of a lever, the propellers began to whir to life, providing the thrust needed to take us deeper into the Void.

“Who was that back there?” asked Rob, referring to the figure who had chased us away.

“Whoever it was, he’ll have a hard time trying to follow us in this weather. We’ll chart our course and be out of sight before he can launch a vessel of his own. He’ll have no way to know which way we’ve gone,” Stoney boasted loudly.

“It was Xaul, the Xin warrior I told you about,” I said softly, holding the medallion out in front of me; the glow was soft and blue now.

“How do you know it was him?” Rob asked.

I explained how I had been having dreams—how I was able to see things, visions of events that were happening in other parts of Solandria. Then, I told them what I had seen of Xaul’s encounter with Petrov.

“He was a good man, Petrov. I’ll never forget what he done for me. Why I was just an old, drunk sailor when he found me. Didn’t care fer no one but me own self.”

“So, what happened?” Trista asked, curious as to what had made the change in the man.

“Well, one day when I was a bit…ehem…under the weather, Petrov found me in an alley and took me to Sanctuary, nursed me back to health and fed me proper. He was the one who taught me abouts the Author and Aviad, you know. Even landed me an honest job at the inn with a friend of his. Didn’t ask fer nothing in return neither. Never been the same since, I can tell you that much. He’ll be missed.”

Stoney’s good eye seemed to tear over at the thought of the lost Resistance Commander.

“Petrov would have been proud of what you did for us, Stoney,” I said at last.

Stoney smiled slightly at the thought. “Maybe so, young Hunter. Maybe so.”

There was a moment of silence as we let our remembrances of the man fill the space between us. As we soared off toward Torpor, the Bridesmaid swayed back and forth, carried in the currents of the wind.

“Still a bit queasy then, are you, lad?” Stoney asked, watching Rob.

Rob nodded.

“Don’t be afraid none; we’re in the Author’s winds now. Ain’t nothing going to happen that we can’t handle. You’ll see.”

He paused for a moment then added.

“Say, that reminds me of a song I likes to sing whenever I’m sailing. You wants to hear it?” he asked. Before we could agree he began bellowing out a tune, similar to the one the sailors had sung earlier that day as they were leaving the Cliffhanger Inn. Only Stoney’s version was quite different, both in its lyrics and in its delivery. He was as tone-deaf as a seal and blurted the notes out with such force that it hardly sounded like a song at all:

Oh, sailing out on the Author’s breeze,

I goes where he wills for his wind carries me.

Never a worry and never a care

When I’m sailing out in the open air.

Trista and I just laughed at the man as he repeated the chorus a second time, which was unimaginably worse than the first.

“Everybody now,” he said at the end of the second chorus. Shrugging my shoulders, I joined the boisterous man and convinced Trista to sing out as well. The two of us joined him in the song, singing at the top of our lungs.

“You know,” Stoney said as we finished, “you lot really sounded awful on that last bit.”

With that even Rob started to laugh.

Looking back, I watched the shard of Galacia, a floating island of ice and snow, disappear into the hazy atmosphere. When it was gone at last, Stoney offered a suggestion.

“Probably best if you all got some sleep tonight. There are bunks below deck, and I can manage myself for awhile; no use in all of us staying up.”

Rob was the first to head below deck, deciding it was better if he were in confined quarters where he couldn’t see that we were flying. Despite the bitter cold, Trista and I were far too excited to go back to sleep. Adventure was in the air, and we were on our way at last. We kept watch with Stoney and enjoyed his company. He told tales of his former sky-sailing days and of the dangers of flight: sky serpents, funnel clouds and Void ghosts.

“What’s down there in the Void?” Trista had asked at one point.

“Nobody knows for sure,” Stoney said. “There are legends of course, but I don’t like to repeat them because there’s no telling what’s true unless you’ve been there yerself. Nope, I prefer to leave the mysteries of the Void unsearched.”

He could have talked all night, but eventually Trista, obviously troubled by something, wandered away to the railing. I followed, leaving Stoney at the helm alone.

“Something wrong?” I asked carefully.

“No, just thinking,” she said. I leaned on the railing beside her and waited.

Just then, the craft broke out of the dense fog and into a grand expanse of sky, scattered with wisps of silvery clouds in a deep midnight blue. Two pale crescent moons, one slightly larger than the other hung overhead, accompanied by an array of stars too numerous to count.

“It’s beautiful,” Trista gasped. “And to think, all of these years, the stories of Solandria my cousins believed…all of it was true.”

“Strange, isn’t it,” I replied, spotting the silhouette of another shard floating off in the distance. I still wasn’t used to the sight.

“Overwhelming actually,” she said. “You know, I always had a feeling there was more to life than meets the eye. I just never dreamed there was a world like this.”

“I know what you mean. The first time I was called here, I was so full of questions it was infuriating. I thought I had my life all figured out. I was in control and everything revolved around me. And then when things changed I felt so disoriented and lost.”

Trista nodded. “So how did you deal with it?”

“Not very well at first,” I admitted. “But when I started learning about the Author, things started to get easier to accept.”

“That’s one of the things I don’t understand. How is it that you all are okay with believing there is some great Author at work in our lives?”

“How is it you aren’t?” I replied.

There was a long pause.

“Nothing comes from nothing,” Trista said at last in a misty voice. “That’s what my cousins always used to tell me.”

I smiled, “The first truth of the Code of Life. It helps us remember that everything we see owes its existence to something else, something bigger than all of this,” I said, spreading my arms out toward the Void around us.

“The Author, huh,” Trista answered. It was a statement, not a question.

“Yeah,” I replied, “and he brought you here for a reason too, Trista.”

“You think?” she asked, searching my eyes with her own.

“Absolutely,” I answered, putting my arm around her shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

As the first signs of dawn began to creep into the darkness of the Void, we stood amazed at the sight. A new day had begun and unbeknownst to us, so had an ill-fated journey.