4
Plan Of Action
“What did you think of your dream?” Adelgis asked as we descended to the lower deck.
“I was surprised how accurate you made Gravekeeper William,” I said. “It felt so… lifelike.”
“Oh, I didn’t do that. I just manipulated the dream to recall memories of your adopted father. Your own subconscious made up his words and mannerisms, not me. I could have taken control, but I suspect I would’ve portrayed him incorrectly, and then you would’ve been angered.”
I chuckled, amused by Adelgis’s strange power set. Somehow, everything about the man was bizarre, but I appreciated that about him. He wasn’t like anyone else I knew. Adelgis always had a different perspective, albeit odd.
“I helped Master Zelfree when he felt depressed.” Adelgis half-smiled. “I can help with your sleep as well. What would you like to dream about? It could be anything.”
I rubbed at the back of my neck, trying to think of pleasant dreams. I didn’t want to see Gravekeeper William every night. The heartache would be too much. Instead, I wanted something to distract me from the reality of my situation. If I had something else to think about—something other than the tainted blood pumping through my veins—I suspected I’d have an easier time going about my day.
“Something fun,” I said as we neared the door to the storeroom. “No. I take that back.” Last time Adelgis had given me a “fun” dream, it had turned into an awkward nightmare of group dancing. “Something interesting. Something completely new and not from my memories.”
Adelgis opened the door and walked to the nearest hammock, muttering, “New, huh?” before taking a seat on the ratty ropes of his makeshift bed.
I returned to my hammock, my food pouch in hand. Once settled, I nibbled on the jerky and bread. They sapped the water from my mouth, leaving me with a terrible thirst. To make matters worse, the flavor bordered on sawdust mixed with grease. It impressed me that the bread and the meat could somehow have nearly the same taste and texture, but that only brought about more disturbing questions.
The door to the storeroom creaked open and Fain slipped inside. His wendigo kept close to his legs as he shut the door, and Luthair slithered across the floor in shadow form. Fain had his own pouch of food—but he also had a bottle made of dark green glass. A beverage? I turned around in my hammock to face him.
“Have you two explored this rig?” Fain asked, his voice low. He quickly slid into his hammock. “I think the crew is mostly women.”
Adelgis nodded. “The vast majority.”
“Is that common on airships?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never been on an airship before.”
Fain relaxed and kicked off his boots. Wraith grabbed them both by the laces and moved the pair toward the wall, his tail wagging the entire time.
“Pirate ships don’t usually take on women,” Fain muttered as he tore a piece of jerky in two. “Well, that’s not true. I’m sure most pirates would love to have women as crewmates, but there weren’t many who wanted to sail with the likes of Calisto. We did have a couple, though.”
“Does it bother you?” I asked.
Fain shrugged. “No. It just explains a few things, that’s all. Like why we aren’t sleeping near the rest of the crew.”
“They housed us near the captain because the crew doesn’t trust us,” Adelgis said matter-of-factly.
Fain snorted and laughed once. “Of course. I’m a renegade pirate, Volke’s a plague-ridden madman, and you’re some moon-faced weirdo. No one in their right mind would trust the lot of us.”
I shot him a sideways glance.
Fain returned it as he ripped another piece of jerky in half.
“It’s true,” he finally said. “At least, that’s how everyone sees us.” He took a large bite of his food and cringed. With a pained expression, he forced himself to chew the meat. He swallowed long before appropriate, half-choking on the tough chunks. After patting his chest, and taking a swig from his green bottle, he managed to rasp, “What does it matter? They’re just letting us ride away from the empire, right?”
As though prepared for the question, Adelgis withdrew a map from his satchel. It wasn’t particularly large, but the precise nature of it was apparent, even from across the room. Longitude and latitude lines marked the entire drawing, along with a legend and a line for measuring distances. Adelgis smoothed the parchment across his lap and scooted a bit closer to the lit lantern.
“We might have to ride on this airship for an extended period of time,” Adelgis said. “I’m certain my father went to New Norra, far to the south, but he never stays there long.”
He pointed to places on the map and then used his fingers to calculate the distance.
“New Norra is almost three hundred miles away,” Adelgis muttered. “And if he went farther south, the next port city is more than fifty miles along the coast.”
Fain exhaled. He handed the jerky to Wraith, and his wendigo gobbled it down without even tasting it.
“It still won’t matter if the crew trusts us,” Fain said. “If we keep to this room, I’m sure the trek to New Norra will be pleasant enough.”
Adelgis shook his head. “I don’t think you understand. The doppelgänger arcanist, Karna, said the captain would take us to New Norra, but she didn’t guarantee anything else. My father probably stopped there, but he always moves on, which means we’ll have to investigate and then travel to another city, perhaps several. If the crew of the Sun Chaser wants us gone—because they think we’re weirdos, madmen, and pirates, as you put it—they’ll abandon us as soon as possible, and we’ll be stuck with slower means of transportation.”
Fain glanced between Adelgis and me, a frown setting in. Then he ran his hand down his face, his frostbitten fingers contrasting harshly with the tan of his skin. “Damn. We’re definitely gonna get kicked off.”
“Why’s that?” I asked. “People generally like Adelgis. He’s kind, pleasant, and he’s the son of a famous researcher. I think the crew will get along with him.”
Fain narrowed his eyes into a sarcastic glare. “Are you serious? Earlier today our friend, Moonbeam—” he jutted his thumb at Adelgis, “—told the crew he wanted to see what happened if they all asphyxiated to death.”
“What?” I gasped.
Adelgis rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that dramatic.”
“Some deckhand asked Adelgis about his eldrin,” Fain said. “He told her it was an ethereal whelk, and the woman asked where they came from. Moonbeam said ethereal whelks are born from the corpses of children who drowned. That’s when he followed it up with, I wonder what would happen if the crew of this airship asphyxiated to death.”
“I’m genuinely curious,” Adelgis stated as he waved his hands around, flustered. “Maybe a new type of mystical creature would be born. We don’t have much research on airships.”
Fain lifted both eyebrows. Then he turned to me with an I told you so stare. “I’m not an expert on charisma, but even I know that won’t ingratiate us to anyone. We might not make it to New Norra.”