THE WENDY’S REVENGE

We both spun around as a female’s voice projected itself across the water. “This is Captain Ivy of the airship, ‘Wendy’s Revenge’. Heave to and shut down your engines.”

Far behind us, a sleek sailing ship that had once plowed through the ocean waves was now flying above them. It had two masts but no sails, only a black flag flying from the front one, and several long metal cylinders resembling pontoons on each side, connected to the hull by metal supports. It reminded me of the Maya war canoe illustrations Catherwood had drawn in, ‘Incidents of Travel’. One of the crewmen came running over with an expression as shocked as I felt. “Burn me arse, it’s a flying Brigantine!”

I realized I was gaping and shut my mouth. “But how?”

“I believe I know,” Je’kyll replied, staring at the approaching ship with a look of wonder on his slightly warty face. The sounds of men shouting and pounding feet were coming from below as he pointed at the ship. “Professor Magnus once gave a lecture on an experimental system called a Hyper-Reactive Drive. See those three pontoons on each side, one over another? They are likely filled with an inert gas, which the Terramagica drive is changing into a vapor far more buoyant than helium, yet so stable that it only explodes in the presence of Aethyr energy. Professor Magnus claimed you could do exactly what we are looking at: take a normal sailing ship and make it fly.”

I kept my gaze on the airship. “Why have I never heard of this before?”

“Because the airship companies are keeping it under wraps until they get it right.” People were rushing past us as he added, “The inventor was a Koncava named Tesla Blackstone from the Austrian empire, who claims British spies stole the plans from him in Vienna.”

I turned to stare at him as the ship’s captain, a portly man with side whiskers and wearing a blue captain’s coat, came puffing past us on his way towards the stern. Right behind him came my grandfather, dressed in a grey suit. He clasped me by the shoulder and wordlessly moved me with him to follow in the captain’s wake.

My three half-Orku friends moved to intercept us. “Boss,” Drog said, “one of the crew gave me something to give to you.”

His thick hand held a revolver. “What is this?” My grandfather asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Insurance. The man said the captain’s not a brave soul.”

“Boss,” Goro said, “we can pitch it over the side if you want.”

“No,” my grandfather said, “give it here.” Drog handed him the revolver and he slipped it into his coat pocket. “Follow me.”

We hurried after him as he strode towards the stern, where the captain had a Terramagica device resembling a small speaking trumpet. It had a small metal box on the side and a leaded glass tube holding the Terramagica vapor called ‘goblin gas’, which powered the device.

The device had a grip with a lever that he depressed as he spoke. “This is Captain Yardley of the Union registered ship ‘American Eagle’,” his voice booming over the increasingly choppy water and salt scented wind. “We are transporting an archaeological expedition to Mexico via New York and have no cargo other than supplies. We are not worth your trouble.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“On the contrary,” Captain Ivy shot back. “You have one piece of human cargo quite valuable to my employer.” The ship was close enough so I could make out the captain standing on the ship’s prow. She was an Eldarion, dressed in a black captain’s coat and trousers, with her hair tied back in a knot behind her head and silver bangles hanging from her spiraling ears. A black patch covered her left eye. “Heave to,” she said into blue webbing hanging in the air in front of her mouth. “Let us take young Jonathan aboard and you have my word no harm will come to any of you.”

Captain Yardley looked at me and a sinking feeling began in the pit of my stomach as I saw the worry on his face. “Eldarion or not, you are a pirate,” he said as he looked back at her. “Everyone knows pirates lie.”

The rolling of the ship was getting worse as Captain Ivy put her hand to her heart. “Sir, you cut me to the quick. To prove my honesty, I will swear you an oath upon the name of mighty Chronos, that if you give up Jonathan, I shall take no further action against you.” The airship had slowed and was now matching our speed as the air around us grew darker. “You know the reputation of Chronos, even in this scientific age of mankind. What say you, sir?”

My grandfather grabbed Captain Yardley by the shoulder. “Surely you cannot be considering giving up my grandson.”

Captain Yardley shook him off. “I have a ship and passengers to think of and no means to defend us. If she would actually swear an oath like that, she will have no choice but comply-”

Captain Ivy’s voice called out, “Time is short, captain. Travel any farther into the storm and I will order a salvo of rockets that will disable your ship, then board her and take the lad, leaving you crippled and alone. What is your decision, sir?”

“She will do no such thing,” my grandfather snarled at the captain, his hand in his coat pocket. “A stray rocket could kill Jon or sink the ship, and she knows it.”

Captain Yardley shook his head. “I cannot chance it. First mate,” he called out, “prepare to stop engines-”

Grandfather pulled the revolver from his pocket and shoved the muzzle against the side of Captain Yardley’s face. “Order your officer to increase speed or by God I will have your brains all over this deck.”

“This is an outrage,” Captain Yardley bellowed. “I cannot believe you would do such a thing as-” My grandfather cocked the hammer back. “Bastard,” he spat at my grandfather. “I will see you hang for this, I swear it.” He raised his voice. “First mate, belay that order and go to three-quarter speed directly into the maelstrom. All hands prepare for stormy weather. And may God save us-”

A rocket roared overhead and exploded. “’Ware the rigging,” someone called out, as pieces of the forward mast and shredded rope fell onto the deck.

Everyone ducked as another rocket streaked past us, lightning flashing in the sky as it exploded. Thunder boomed a moment later. “Flank speed,” the captain shouted. “All passengers get below and assemble on the mess deck.” We needed no prompting as he called out, “Secure-”

“Captain Yardley,” one of the crewmen yelled as the others raced about, “the pirate’s dropping back.” All of us stopped our headlong flight towards the main hatch and looked to where he was pointing.

The engine’s hum became a muffled roar as the ship picked up speed, bouncing over the waves as lightning flashed off in the distance. However, the airship ‘Wendy’s Revenge’ was not only hanging back, but dropping down towards the water, as if the approaching storm would be too much for it. Over the rumble of thunder, Captain Yardley said, “Is this a trick?”

“I do not think so,” Je’kyll said, relief washing over his face as the airship settled onto the waves. “Terramagica attracts electricity, and a lightning strike could well disable the Hyper-Reactive drive, bringing them down.”

Standing on the deck beside the main hatch, the first mate called out, “Captain, how long at flank speed? There’s rough water ahead.”

“Reduce to three-quarters,” he yelled back as he turned towards us. “I still want all passengers to report to the mess deck. We will have this out.”

Everyone knows of Chronos as Father Christmas, who decides whether a child deserves presents (or not), yet most have forgotten his darker legends. Chronos still has a few old ruins where his temples used to be, and even in the 19th Century, stories were told of people who would stand before his altar and ask for something to happen in their lives (or in the life of another). According to the legends, their wishes were occasionally granted… but at times in a way so horrible that the person asking regretted ever doing so in the first place.