The woman stood tall, boot propped on the railing, a machine Aesira had never seen before aimed over the bow, flames shooting out, torching everything below.
A lone crawler had escaped the woman’s wrath, its empty eyes narrowed on Aesira. The crawler launched, but Aesira was quicker, slicing her blade clean through its middle. Inky ichor spilled on the deck. The crawler howled, something low and deep until Aesira used her blade to finish it off.
“Nice work,” the woman said. Together they pulled the dead crawler from the deck and pushed it over board. Heat singed the hair on Aesira’s arms as she peeked over the bow, down to the scrambling wraiths below. The smell of burnt hair and rotted remains drifted through the black smoke. Aesira wiped her blade on her pants and turned to the woman at her side.
A satisfied smirk was slashed across her thin mouth, a quiet chuckle escaping her. The same laugh, she realized, she’d heard among the carnage. She pushed her goggles atop her head and lowered her weapon, her gaze drifting past Aesira. “Convenient ofyou to join us just as all the hard work is done.” Aesira turned in time to see Stone taking a few strides toward them.
“Smells terrible,” Stone said, peering over the edge of the ship. “All of them?”
“All of them,” the woman said, raising her chin.
“Well done, as usual.” The compliment sounded strained, as if it pained Stone to admit it. “That’s new.” He pointed to the flame tipped weapon the woman still held tightly in her grasp. Aesira had never seen anything like it. The mechanics of it. The flames. She was trained using traditional weapons; blades, arrows, her hands, and poison when necessary. She admired the weapon as the woman slung it over her shoulder.
A weapon like that could change everything in the face of war, Aesira thought. The ease with which it annihilated an entire hive of crawlers. It was too dangerous.
“Had a lot of time to think in Vargah.” The woman pulled the weapon off her shoulder and cradled it in her arms, admiring it like one would admire a newborn baby. “Didn’t take much to make with all those supplies so graciously given by the queen.”
Stone glanced at Aesira, maybe waiting for a comment about the underground prisons, or her role in placing so many people there. Or maybe he didn’t think she should know of the weapons being made with Vargah’s money, but he turned his focus back to the woman. “Tidy up,” he said. “Meet me when you’re done.”
Alone again, the woman led Aesira to an area where they kept cleaning supplies; mops and buckets stacked on top of each other. “Thanks for the help,” the woman said. “I’m Birdie, by the way.”
The hours melted into one another with various tasks Birdie assigned to Aesira. Never mind she was the least experienced flyer on the ship. Never mind that she was the queen’s sister and royalty herself. In the few minutes she managed to sneak away, she found Nora who’d be assigned below deck, prepping meals and organizing their rations.
Aesira wouldn’t have been bothered by the work in any other circumstance. She liked keeping her hands occupied. Appreciated the sweat that built on her brow and the dull ache of her muscles as she dragged herself to her bed later that night.
She wouldn’t have been bothered if not for seeing the work for what it really was. A way to keep them busy. Keep them distracted from whatever Stone and the rest of his crew were doing beneath the ship.
“You didn’t see them all day?” Aesira asked as she and Nora slid into their bunks.
“Once,” Nora said through a yawn. “When they came to get their meals but they were quiet so I didn’t bother making conversation.” Nora poked her head out of the bottom bunk. “Stone asked about you, though, wondered why you weren’t eating with us.” Her grin spread the freckles across her cheeks.
“And did you tell him it’s because I find him repulsive?”
Nora laughed and rolled back into her bed. “Of course not, Commander. You know I’m a terrible liar.”
The small window in their cabin let in the last of the day's golden light. A few moments later, Nora’s soft snores drifted up from her bottom bunk, and despite the sleep clawing at her eyelids, Aesira couldn’t settle.
Tonight, however, it wasn’t the wraiths or nightmares that occupied her mind and made her restless. It was the nagging feeling that this crew–Stone–couldn’t be trusted.
She’d seen him only once throughout the entire day, after Birdie set flame to the wraiths. And as for the rest of the criminals–cadre, she corrected herself–she hadn’t seen them at all.
It was as if they disappeared.
Or, more likely, moved about the ship so perfectly, they avoided both knights altogether.
It didn’t offend her that she wasn’t invited to their conversations, she’d been on the outs more times than one and considering who they were and who she was, it only made sense to be wary of each other. But even if it didn’t bother her, it did concern her.
When darkness blotted out the sun and the sound of Birdie scuffling about on deck quieted, she crept out of her room, leaving Nora snoring in her bunk. This time, she didn’t head for the familiar ladder, she headed straight for the starboard quarters, where she suspected Stone to be.
The narrow hallway was almost completely dark save for the light seeping from the bottom of the door at the end. Aesira ran her fingers down the wooden panels that lined the walls but froze halfway when the door at the end burst open.
“Commander!” Patch waved her forward, a wide smile stretching across his lips. His dark hair fell loose near his shoulders and the crooked smile only made him more handsome. “Join us for a drink!”
Aesira took a tentative step. Her aim was to speak to Stone alone, question him using her training in the hopes of getting the truth out of what he’d been doing all day, see what his motives really were, but from the sounds coming from the doorway, it was unlikely that was going to happen.
Patch patted her back as she joined them around a small table in the room. Why they chose here and not the crew mess to gather was beyond her, but she squeezed in next to Birdie.
The table was quiet, only the faint pelt of sand against the window. She’d always kept her circle small. Nev, Nora, and Kamari. The only people she could truly rely on. If someone had asked her if she ever imagined sharing a table with four Odega’s, she would have told them they were out of their mind.
