Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Four - Chaos and Anarchy and Other Sorts of Fun

“You... you rapscallion!” I said, with one arm raised so that I could point right at Golden Rogers. “You mean, no-good pirate.”

Golden Rogers blinked, then he had the temerity to actually smile and look to his crew. “Did you hear that? The miss thinks that I’m a no-good pirate.”

“That’s exactly what you are,” I said. “You’re the worst kind of pirate there is. I bet all you do is go around and steal things.”

“That is generally what a pirate does, little bun.”

“No, no it’s not. Pirates are meant to be free! They’re meant to go where no one’s gone before just because they can, and they’re meant to put their names in the history books for being grand adventurers. You’re just a petty, no-good mean... person that kidnapped my best friend. I... I really want to do mean things to you.”

Golden Rogers laughed, though I had the impression that at least a couple of his crewmates felt a little bad.

That probably wouldn’t be enough.

I was about to demand that he surrender Awen back to us when the door behind him slammed open and a wide-eyed Awen stumbled out and into the middle of the Roger’s group, soon followed by two dishevelled pirates.

One of them immediately tried to grab her, but Awen planted a boot on his foot and rammed her elbow full-force into his chest.

Golden Rogers grunted in displeasure and grabbed Awen by the hair.

She screamed as he dragged her forwards a ways and held her up, calloused fingers tangling with blond locks. He grabbed one of her arms and yanked it back behind her. Her free hand scrambled at the hand grabbing her hair to no avail. “Let her go!” I screamed.

Awen started and looked up. “Broccoli?” she asked.

“Let her go,” Amaryllis said. “You’ve already incurred the wrath of the Albatross family, and I’ve no doubt the Bristlecones will fail to appreciate the way you’re handling their scion.”

Rogers scoffed. “The Bristlecones? Those filth?” He shook Awen and she winced. “Do you have any idea how much I loathe them? Abraham Bristlecone cost me a ship and half a year of my life in some backwater penal camp. This girl? She’s going to be my payback for all the trouble that bastard gave me.”

“Awen never did anything to you,” I said. “If you want to fight with Abraham, then go ahead. At least he’s someone your size.”

“Oh, shut up,” Rogers bit out. “You four, get the harpy. You guys, get the sylph. And someone toss the bun’s head over the rails. She’s no one important.”

“Bastard!” Awen yelled.

Her hand came up, and as everyone looked, a wicked knife materialized in her hand with a crackle like glass being stepped on.

It swung down with all of Awen’s desperate force, and even Golden Roger’s attempt to duck the blow didn’t stop her from planting the blade to the hilt in his thigh. Then the hilt shattered, leaving only a centimeter of jagged glass poking out of his leg.

He grunted, letting go of Awen to grasp at the wound.

Awen landed on her knees, then shot up to her feet and started running towards me. One of the pirates tried to grab her, but a thunder crack sliced the air and he went flying back with a howl.

“This way!” Bastion yelled.

Awen crashed into me, hugging me tight and close. “I-I I thought... awa!”

“It’s okay,” I said. “But we need to go.”

Bastion waved at something over the side of the ship, and it didn’t take a genius to figure that the Manatee was there waiting for us. Still, I couldn’t jump to it without seeing it, so I pulled Awen along with me towards the edge even as the ship started to bump and lurch.

“I destroyed the engines,” Awen said. “The ship’s going down.”

I laughed. “Awesome work!” I said as I reached the rails.

The Manatee was some three dozen meters away. Far enough down that I was sure I could make the jump. I wasn’t sure about Awen though.

“Do you know how to swim?” I asked her.

“Awa? I mean, no. I’m from a desert, Broccoli.”

“Right.” No throwing her into the sea to pick her up. Not that that was really an option to begin with. “We’re going to jump together,” I said as I grabbed onto the rigging. Awen swallowed, but pulled herself up with a similar rope and came to stand on the rails next to me.

Amaryllis ran past us and vaulted the rail. “Move!” she said.

Bastion backed up near the rail. He was holding off a few of them all on his own. “Jump!”

I nodded, bent my knees, grabbed Awen, then jumped.

Awen screamed, even as I held her close, but the noise of it was drowned out by the passing wind.

And then something wrapped around my foot and yanked me back.

I had just a moment to react, a fraction of a second to put two and two together.

I threw Awen ahead and towards the Manatee.

The rope around my ankle turned my jump into a swing, and I found myself rushing towards the ship. It was only pure luck that had me twisting around enough to hit the side of the Golden Grove’s Revenge with my untied foot. The bang made my teeth rattle, and hanging upside down wasn’t the best for my sense of direction.

Looking up, I followed the cord to the rails above, where a couple of pirates were leering down at me. Bastion was already in the air, flying towards the Manatee.

At least my friends were safe?

They started tugging me up.

I couldn’t cut the rope. Not with nowhere to go but splat into the sea far below. And I couldn’t allow them to pull me all the way up either. They were already seeing way too much leg for my liking.

Another tug, and I was suddenly much closer to one of the portholes on the side of the ship.

I grinned.

Three fireballs appeared in my hand and I aimed down my body and up the ship towards the pirates looking over the edge.

They ducked as the balls of fire zipped past them and slapped into the balloon above.

I groaned and focused against the blood rushing to my head.

The next salvo had one fireball hit the rope, singing it a little and lighting it on fire. Perfect! I tugged down, grabbing the edge of the porthole and pulling closer to it until I was able to punch the window open.

When the rope finally snapped, I almost flew off, but a lurch in the ship helped me grab the edge of the window and I managed to slip my head and arms in. My back still bent awkwardly--and painfully--over the rim, but I was in.

In... a cabin? I scrambled to the floor next to a small cot and used a tiny desk to break my fall a little. The cabin was cramped, with barely any room to move. But that was just fine for me. It gave me a spot to rest for just a moment and catch my breath.

I was in a bit of a predicament. I couldn’t exactly hide forever, and the ship’s constant lurching hinted that Awen had done a great job sabotaging it. The pirate ship going down was good. The ship going down with me in it was decidedly not.

Looking around, I tried to find something to use as a weapon. “Sword, no. Musket? No.” I muttered as I looked around. “Ah!” Sitting on the corner of the desk was a heavy iron candle holder. It had a big blunt bottom and a long stem. Perfect.

With a small pause to rub the ache out of my back a bit, I opened the door and poked my head out into an empty corridor.

The Golden Grove’s Revenge looked like a ship with three decks or so. I was pretty sure I was on the bottom-most. Unless the keel space counted as a deck? I needed to brush up on nautical terminology.

I bent my ears back for extra stealthiness, and started tip-toeing along the corridor, candleholder in hand.

The ship rocked under me, swaying violently to one side and throwing me against a wall.

I realized too late that I wasn’t bumping into a wall, but a door.

It slammed open and I tumbled into a large, low-ceilinged room filled with hammocks and five very confused pirates.

They looked at me.

I looked at them.

“She’s one of them that attacked us!” one of them shouted.

I ducked back out of the door, but not before flinging a couple of fireballs across the room. One splattered against an oil-lamp next to the hammocks, breaking the glass and splashing burning oil all over the hanging beds around it.

I didn’t have time for caution, so I darted down the corridor, and when I arrived at a staircase at the end I ran up three steps at a time. The deck above was sorta split down the middle. Part of it was filled with cargo. Crates and boxes and barrels all neatly stacked and held in place by nets. The other half was partially walled off, with a large engine in its middle that was being fussed over by a pair of very distressed young men.

“It’s still heating up!”

“What do you mean it’s still heating up? We’re nearly out of coolant!”

“The coolant’s pissing all over the floor... wait, there’s glass in it.”

“Glass?”

“Like, sandy glass bits? The radiator’s a mess.”

“We need to flush it.”

“We’ll need to flush the fuel too. Wait.. the fuel line’s been cut. Right here.”

“That’s not right... if it was cut, then why isn’t it leaking?”

“Look, it was spliced in here. That’s... that’s the oil reservoir.”

“No wonder it’s running hot. We need to cut this out and drain both the oil and the fuel, and the radiator too, for good measure.”

“Can’t do that while the engine’s running, and if it stops running we’re going to be taking a swim.”

I licked my lips and cleared my throat for attention. Obviously Awen had done a number on what looked like the ship’s gravity engine. The two mechanics were twisting and turning over the machine, only touching it gingerly on account of all the heat coming off of it. And it was a lot of heat, there was even a haze in the air around the machine.

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” I said. “But does this ship have lifeboats?”

The two men looked over to me.

“Who’s that?”

“Never saw her. I’d know if there was a bun on the crew.”

“She a pirate?”

“Can pirates be pirated?”

“I don’t think it’s time for semantics.”

I waved at them to calm down. “I just want to know if we’re going to crash or something,” I said.

They looked at each other. “Probably not.”

“We’re good. As long as the balloon holds its air, there’s no danger.”

The balloon that I had poked some flaming holes into. I was about to ask if that would have an impact on the ship staying in the air, but the rumble of feet rushing up the stairs behind me cut off my plans to talk. “Okay, thanks and bye!” I said as I shot past them. I only paused to kick over a gallon drum with ‘oil’ printed on its side.

The mechanics screamed and started rushing around to clean up the mess before it reached the engine.

The far end of the room had another stairwell, this one stopped at the next floor up, but I didn’t pause to look around and just bolted up to the topdeck.

It was chaos. A team of sailors were placing patches against the balloon, others were repairing some of the ropes we’d cut in our little scuffle across the deck.

In the middle of it all, Golden Rogers stood tall and proud, barking orders and pointing this way and that to direct his men. “Why aren’t those sails out yet? Divert more power to turning. Make sure you don’t lose sight of them. We’re going to run down that little skiff of theirs if it’s the last thing we do.”

I turned this way and that, looking for a place to hide. Maybe I could join my friends if they managed to catch up to them? But then we'll have to deal with this ship again. Maybe I could steal a lifeboat and sabotage the ship some more? That would maybe allow us to get away, and I could rejoin my friends in Needleford. Assuming I could navigate my way over.

I just had to keep the shore to my left.

Feet thumping behind me had me diving for cover behind some boxes. I needed a moment to plan.

And then someone rude grabbed my ears and dragged me up. “If you’re going to hide, bun, then don’t leave your filthy ears poking out above cover!”

I was in a spot of trouble.

***