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20 - Out Here, Blood Attracts Attention

* * *

Suni

We were fine, for the most part. A rather unexciting crossing, all in all. Except when Leda lost her footing and went under, soaking a bag of hardtack in the process. She came back up a moment later, spitting the silty, brown water from her mouth, but the food was ruined. Or soon would be, now that it was wet.

“Best dig in, Suni,” Oz said through a mouthful of hardtack. Or, maybe soggy-tack was a better name for it now. Usually the dried, unleavened biscuits would last forever, so hard to bite into that they almost passed for weapons. But now that they’d been soaked through, they’d rot in a few days.

“Feast while you can,” Oz continued after swallowing his bite. “Rest of this hike the food’s going to be rationed. Elpida’ll see to that.”

“Hike is a funny choice of word,” I told him before taking another bite.

We were sitting a good distance into the jungle on the opposite bank of the river, regrouping and catching our breath after the crossing. And figuring out what to do next. We had the luxury to think about that now that the river was between us and the komodo. Though, the more I thought about it, the less convinced I was that it’d stop him. He was so big he could walk right across. But probably that hadn’t been the point. We’d crossed the river to hide our scent, make it harder for the predator to track us. With any luck, it’d lose us all together.

“What did you manage to salvage?” I asked Oz as I forced down another mouthful of soggy biscuit. Somehow he and Elpida’d had the good sense to grab whatever supplies they could before fleeing the Stormcrow. The experience of a guide, probably. They didn’t seem to be caught off guard by anything out here. It’d been all I could do not to get eaten.

“Food, mostly,” Oz answered through another mouthful. “Got plenty of that.”

“Anything besides hardtack?” Gabar asked.

Oz laughed at that. “You all really are new to this, aren’t you? There wasn’t any food other than hardtack to grab from the emergency packs. That, the medical pack, clothes, some spare weapons and tools, one bag of javelin-charge powder, and... ” He thought for a moment. “Oh, and Elpida’s backup supply of gorgam rum,” he said, nodding towards several waterskins of the stuff piled in with the supplies.

“Why did she bring so much rum?” I asked, watching as, at the water’s edge, Elpida took another swig from her flask.

When Oz didn’t respond after a moment, I looked back to find the guide watching her too. His ever-present smile, that grin that tempted fate and danger and whatever else the world had to throw at it, was gone for the moment. Made him look older, worn.

“She’s been out here a while,” was all he said. A moment later he was back to his usual self. “Besides, what situation isn’t improved by a little rum?”

“Fair enough,” I said, though I’d never cared for the drink.

Those of us who’d survived the wreck were split now into two groups. I sat with Oz, Maritza, Demetrias, and the soldiers, each of us eating our way through a portion of the bag of ruined hardtack. Elpida, Senesio, and the sergeant sat together several paces away, doing the same, but also discussing the next course of action. All things considered, it was probably a conversation Senesio had no business being a part of. But that seemed to be one of the man’s many skills. No matter what group he was in, he made himself seem important.

When everyone was near finished with the soggy-tack, Elpida walked over to the piled bags and started rummaging through them. A moment later and a thrown shirt slapped around my face.

“Put that on,” she said, then tossed a fresh shirt at Demetrias and the sergeant as well. “Can’t have you attracting predators with all that blood on you.”

I looked down to my shirt and found it stained red. In the mad dash I’d forgotten how much I’d been bleeding.

“Same goes for anyone else what gets bloody from here on out,” Elpida said, as I stepped away to change shirts. “If you get cut, anything even remotely serious, you tell me or Oz. The wound will need to be cleaned and packed, and the smell of it masked with something. Out here, blood attracts attention. And that’s the last thing we want.”

Stolen story; please report.

The survivors mumbled their understanding as I turned my back to change. The fresh shirt felt wonderful. And dry, too. Emperor’s mercy, I’d never take dryness for granted again. But comfort wasn’t the priority right now.

“Here, take this, too.” Elpida was waiting for me when I turned back around. She’d a dagger in her hand, held out to me grip first. Normally, I would have protested. I didn’t need a blade. Didn’t know how to use one anyway. But things being what they were, she was right.

“Thanks,” I said, and strapped the dagger to my belt. For a moment, my fingers brushed against the decorative brass buckle and I couldn’t help but think of my parents. They had no idea any of this was happening. No idea I wasn’t back at the college pursuing my studies. And if we didn’t make it out of here, if we didn’t get back to Lekarsos, then they might never know...

I stopped that thought early.

“So, what’s next?” I asked Elpida. “What’s our plan to get back to Lerkarsos?”

“We make for Clearwater Outpost,” she answered, pointing to what I figured was north and west. “It’s a two-day flight from here. Obviously, flying isn’t much of an option, so we’ll walk it. Should take five days, thereabouts.” She nodded to those that still had weapons. It was a scant few of us. “We’ve six swords, three shields, and two bows between us, plus a number of knives. But that’s really not relevant. We’re not fighting our way out of the Far Wild. We’re going to slip out, unnoticed, nice and quiet like.”

“What about a raft?” Gabar said, speaking up as he stood. “Can’t we put one together with tree branches and such? Then float down to the coast and walk back to Lekarsos? Surely that’s safer?”

“Safer?” Elpida laughed. “The komodo’s bad, but, trust me, you don’t want to play with what’s swimming in that water.”

“But we just... crossed... ” Gabar said, pointing back to where we’d forded earlier, brow scrunched in confusion.

“Well, if I’d warned you ahead of time, would you have come?”

He swallowed hard, looking back at the water. “Point taken.” He sat back down.

“Clearwater Outpost,” Elpida continued. “The Welkin is scheduled to be there for the month. The outpost has strong palisades, too. It’ll be safe. And we can get word back to Lekarsos. Let them know some unmarked wretches shot us out of the sky, and the Panagia as well.”

“Bospurians, no doubt,” Sergeant Kyriakos said, spitting to one side. And he was probably right. The Cyphite empire and Bospur’s fleets accounted for just around ninety-five percent of all skyships in the world. Those few that remained belonged to smaller nations or the exceptionally rich. It was a long shot to think they’d use their ships against an imperial vessel. No, the Needlethroat hadn’t flown any colors, but all signs pointed to them being Bospurian.

Obviously the Panagia had been attacked too; ancestors above, Kamil!

In all the chaos I’d forgotten about him. Where was he? Aside from that poor sailor, there hadn’t been any sign of casualties. Which meant, what, exactly?

It meant that Kamil was still alive, probably. But that—I swallowed hard thinking of it—he’d been captured. Captured or killed, like we would have been if the komodo hadn’t interrupted the Needlethroat’s boarding party.

“Why would a Bospurian vessel attack us, though?” Maritza was talking now. The first she’d said really since the crash. “I’ve been sailing the same waters as Bospur for a decade now. Flying the same skies with them for a bit over two years, too. They’re a prickly bunch, to be sure, but they’ve never done something like this. An open attack on an imperial vessel?”

“Our orders were to retrieve Kamil, for fear that Bospur was after him,” Leda said. “From the looks of the Panagia, they got him. That’d explain the lack of corpses, too. Bospur shot the ship down, took the crew, and got scarce. Then we came snooping around, so, bam.” She punched a fist into her palm.

“That’s a declaration of war,” Maritza said, shaking her head. “They wouldn’t dare provoke war between empires.”

“It’s only a declaration of war if we live to tell someone about it, right?” Leda said with a shrug, and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that made a cold sort of sense.

Leda began to speak again, then all at once her eyes caught something on the far shore. She shot to her feet, pointed at the tree line, and there was the Needlethroat. Coming in low over the canopy, crew on deck, leaning over the rails, eyes trained on the jungle below.

“Ah, our uninvited guests have returned.” A smile crept onto Senesio’s face as he watched the skyship. “You know, we don’t have to hike out of here.”

“You’re not serious,” I said, although I already knew the answer. Thankfully, Elpida didn’t give Senesio a chance to propose anything suicidal.

“Move.” She gave the command without room for debate, waving us farther into the brush. “Oz, you’ve got the front. Keep us heading north into the thicker jungle.”

“On it,” he said, rolling to his feet, then grabbing two of the emergency packs and setting off.

We all burst into motion, grabbing packs and following the guide.

“Here we go again... ” Elpida growled, and before I could ask what she’d seen, the question was answered.

A cry went up from across the river and the Needlethroat began turning in our direction.

“Double time, Oz!” Elpida yelled.

“It really is an oddly designed ship, isn’t it?” Maritza was rooted in place next to me, eyes squinted to stare up at the approaching vessel. “I’ve never seen a three-engined design like that.”

“Wait any longer and you’ll be seeing more than your fill of it,” Elpida said, then shoved her after the others. “Go! You too, Suni. Run!”