Sky Pirates (34 page)

The Aeternae shuffled forward and sat down at the table. They looked hideously out of place and extremely uncomfortable—just the way Patrice liked it. He needed to show these savages who was their master, and this was a good start.

“So, as I was saying,” he continued. The electromancer made a few feeble gagging sounds and waved his hands in desperation. His face had turned a peculiar shade of purple.

“Oh, all right, you may live.” Patrice waved his hand and the invisible force that held the little man by the throat disappeared.

The electromancer collapsed onto the floor and rolled over clutching his throat. He made terrible gasping sounds as he drew deep breaths into his lungs.

“Do not hurt him anymore. We will listen,” Ga-Rok said.

“An excellent decision, Mr. Ga-Rok.” Patrice ran his fingers around the edges of the summoning stone. “Now, where was I? Oh yes. I am in need of an army. An army that will strike terror into anyone who hears its name. And you, my new friend, already have a reputation that I envy. So you bring your dreadnoughts when I call, and I will make your electromancers more powerful than they have ever been.”

“How powerful?” With the initial shock over and his electromancer safe once more, Ga-Rok’s eyes had lit up with the realization that this negotiation did, after all, hold some possibilities.

Patrice sat forward. “Powerful enough to attack cities. With no one to stop you.”

The other Aeternae started talking rapidly to one another and nodding their heads.

“And you say we may take what we wish?”

Patrice nodded. “Within reason, yes. Once you have done my bidding, you may loot and pillage to your heart’s content. Your wives and children will be covered in furs and gold.”

“Gold!” the other Aeternae said with relish.

Ga-Rok crossed his arms. “And who are we fighting?”

Patrice laughed. “Oh, it is an enemy that is feeble. A woman.”

This made Ga-Rok frown. “Why do you insult us again? We are strong. We do not fight weak women.”

Patrice shook his head. “No, she is a witch with very strong powers. She will launch ships to try to stop me.”

“This witch, we think we have seen her in the sky before.”

“Ah yes, of course you have. She made half the airship disappear and left the other half hanging in midair, didn’t she?”

“It was not a good raid,” Ga-Rok admitted.

“Well, it is this witch and her ships that we will be fighting. And we will win the fight. I have foreseen it.”

Ga-Rok nodded slowly. “If it is foretold, then we may not say anything about it.” He pulled out a small dagger from the folds of his tunic and drew the blade across the back of his hand. A fine red line appeared. He looked at Patrice. “We make this pact in blood.”

Patrice pulled a face. “Oh, is that really necessary?”

The Aeternae grabbed Patrice’s hand and dragged the knife over his knuckles. Then he pressed the back of Patrice’s hand against his own. “Two open hands. The pact is made.”

“Wonderful,” Patrice said as he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his knuckles. He would have to go in search of some strong antiseptic the moment this meeting
was over. These creatures were none too clean, judging by the pungent odor that emanated from them.

Ga-Rok looked around the dining room. “So now we take this ship. It has many shiny things.”

Patrice shook his head. “No, my odiferous friend. I need this ship to go home in. But there will be others. I promise.”

The Aeternae started muttering, deeply disappointed to hear this news. Ga-Rok stabbed his dagger into the table. “That is cheating. We have been summoned to plunder. How do you take that away from us now?”

Patrice sighed and reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out a booklet and flicked across the table to where the electromancer was sitting. “I assume you can read?” he said with bored contempt.

The electromancer nodded and picked up the booklet, starting to leaf through the pages. His face lit up as he took in the contents.

“It’s the dirigible liner company’s flight timetable,” Patrice said.

The Aeternae frowned.

“It lists every flight between Paris and Tokyo for the next three months,” he said, speaking slightly louder than he normally did.

“We will know where the ships are by this?” Ga-Rok’s eyes started glittering with greed.

“You’re welcome,” said Patrice. “As long as you promise to leave this ship be for the moment. I have very important business to attend to—so important that there will be no raiding unless I complete it. Do I make myself clear?”

Ga-Rok nodded, somewhat distracted by the veritable smorgasbord of air prey the electromancer was describing to him.

“Right, gentlemen, shall I leave you to see yourselves out?” Patrice said pointedly.

Ga-Rok and his compatriots rose. He nodded briefly and they made their way out of the dining room with a stiff formality. This did not, however, extend to the hallway, and they broke into excited chatter as they made their way out of the ship.

Patrice smiled to himself as he took in the black elbow- and handprints that his new allies had left on the starched linen of the seats. Who cared if they were unwashed and horrible? They could fight like demons and that was what he needed.

Yes, nefarious plans really weren’t that hard once you got the hang of them.

Elle looked up from the stone bench where she had been sitting. It was mid-morning and the sun was shining, but here beside one of the fountains in the rich shade of a cassia tree, the air was cool and lovely.

She was sitting among trails of exotic orchids that bloomed from the most impossible of crevices, and for the first time in longer than she cared to remember she felt at peace.

She had been studying the battered journal that had traveled with her all this way in her coat pocket. Some of the text had been damaged by mud and rain, but there was still enough to work from.

She had been here at the temple for almost a week now. Dashwood had spoken less than a handful of words to her since their first night here, and she had hardly seen him, save for the odd encounter at mealtimes.

This made her sad, because she found that she missed his banter and his easy manner. But despite the undercurrents involving the captain, Elle felt well fed and rested. In fact, she found that she was growing increasingly fond of this exotic place.

“Good morning, venerable Hari,” Elle said. She bowed her head with respect as she had seen others do during her time here.

Hari returned the greeting, bowing with his hands
pressed together. “
Chum reap sur
. Good morning. I trust that you are well.”

“I am,” Elle said. “In fact, I cannot remember the last time I felt as well from within as I do here.”

“To enjoy good health, to bring true happiness to one’s family, to bring peace to all, one must first discipline and control one’s own mind.” Hari smiled benevolently. “If a person can control his mind, he can find the way to Enlightenment, and all wisdom and virtue will naturally come to him.”

Elle pondered this for a few moments. “I had never thought about it that way.”

“What is it that you are studying?” the monk asked shyly as he sat down next to her.

Elle showed him the journal. “This was given to me by an archaeologist. A good woman who cared only about learning and understanding the world. Not money or treasure.” She opened the pages to show him Dr. Bell’s sketches. “She spent a long time reading about Angkor Wat in old manuscripts. She gave me this journal because she knew I had a question that only the queen of the
apsaras
could answer. It is in search of knowledge that I come to this place, Hari. Not anything else.”

“I have meditated for a long time on this question,” Hari said. “The answer you seek from me is something that I cannot give lightly.” His expression was grave.

Elle bowed. “I accept that,” she said. “And it is I who must ask your forgiveness for imposing my own desires upon you when I first arrived here. I have only been here for a short time, but I feel as if I have learned much by observing the example you and your brothers set for others.”

“This is a good thing, for it is only by example that people truly learn.” Hari turned to Elle. “The Temple City you seek is about fifty miles toward the south. To
find it, one must simply follow the large canal that feeds into a lake. The city floats upon that lake,” he said.

Elle nearly dropped the journal in surprise.

“You will need to walk for most of the way along narrow jungle tracks. Perhaps when we are closer, we can find a boat where the Siem Riep River becomes wider. But the journey will be difficult. I have foreseen it so.”

“You said ‘we’?” she said cautiously.

Hari inclined his head. “I have decided to make a pilgrimage to Angkor Wat. It has been a long time since I have been there and I believe that you will need me on this journey. The path that pilgrims must tread to Angkor Wat is both a physical and a spiritual journey. I know these ways.”

“You will do that for me?”

“I will do that for you and for the captain.”

Elle looked away. “I don’t think Captain Dashwood would be willing to accompany us. I suspect he will make his own way from this place.”

Hari shook his head. “He will come with us. But first you must speak to him.”

Elle sighed. “I know. There is much that is wrong between us, Hari. My heart is broken in so many ways. I wish there was some way I could make you understand.”

“You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself.” Hari placed his hands over hers. “That person is not to be found anywhere. You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection,” he said.

Elle frowned. Hari’s words were almost as inscrutable as her mother’s. “Oh, Hari, what shall I do? All I want is for all the things that I have made wrong to be right. I just want to fix what I have broken, but the harder I try to do that, the worse I make things.”

Hari gave her a sharp look. “To ask of the
apsara
is not a simple matter. She takes away as much as she will give. You must prepare for the journey. You will be tested in many ways.”

“I understand,” Elle said.

He rose with a graceful rustle of his robes. “I will leave you to contemplate these things, but know that our journey cannot begin unless you make peace with Captain Dashwood.”

Elle stared at the water fountain for a few long moments after Hari left. The monk was right. She could not leave this place without apologizing to Dashwood. It was the least she could do. As Hari said, she would just have to endure the journey and see what happened.

She found him in the shade of a hut, sitting cross-legged, cleaning his pistol. Like her, he was dressed in the traditional clothes of the Khmer: a cotton
sampot
—a type of baggy cotton trousers—and a loose wide-necked tunic. Elle’s dress included a fine thin shawl, which she used to shade herself from the sun, in much the same way the Bedouin did. The pretty patterned material was cool and draped softly against her skin. Back home people might be absolutely shocked to hear her saying it, but these were possibly the most comfortable items of clothing she had ever worn. She had resolved to find a means to trade with the villagers, so she could take some of these clothes with her back home to England.

Her current outfit had been provided by the kind people of the nearby village. It was an act of charity that Elle had found immensely humbling. These people had little, but yet they gave without hesitation to those who were in need.

Her own English clothes, now washed and pressed, remained folded up in her hut where they had been left for her.

Everyone here walked barefoot, and after taking a long, hard look at her lace-up boots and thick socks, Elle had decided to do the same. She wiggled her toes in the warm dust. The sensation was lovely. The fact that this was the first time in her life that she had ever gone barefoot was a source of much mirth. Her new friends were utterly astonished to hear that people in her world put shoes on babies.

Dashwood’s cleaning and maintenance of a deadly weapon in this peaceful place seemed somehow wrong. Incongruous. It was a stark reminder that they would have to leave soon.

He looked up at the sound of her approaching and his expression grew wary. She noticed that his blond fringe, normally so carefully combed back, was hanging over his forehead, and a healthy tan spread over his arms and face. He looked well. Alive.

“May I?” she said, gesturing at a shady spot opposite him.

“Suit yourself,” he said.

She sat down, carefully folding her
sampot
under her. She watched him work for a few moments.

“Logan, I have been thinking.”

“Yes?” His voice sounded guarded.

“You were right. I should have been more honest with you. If I had, perhaps we could have been more prepared for the attack. Lives would not have been lost. I’m sorry.”

He nodded. There wasn’t much more that could be said about the matter. All the while, his hands kept working, rubbing the cloth against the smooth metal of the gun.

“Also, I know I have hurt you.”

He looked up at her.

“Please know that I never intended for that to happen. I—” Her voice caught in her throat. She wanted to tell
him how she felt, but she felt so conflicted that the words simply could not form on her lips.

He sighed. “Oh darn it, enough with the groveling. You did what you had to do to survive, and I can’t hold that against you. It’s a harsh world we live in, us pirates. We all have to do things we are not proud of some time.”

Elle smiled at him. “So you keep telling me.”

He put the cloth down and started clicking the bits together, carefully checking that they were aligned.

“I just wanted to say that I am sorry,” she said. It wasn’t enough. She could see it in his eyes, but it would have to do.

“I am too,” he said softly.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I was fine. I thought I had everything together, that I was surviving. Then that day at the waterfall happened. And it was wonderful. Like you said, it has never been like that before. And it turned my whole world upside down. You must know that I felt what you felt too,” she said. “And it has left me feeling more conflicted and confused than I ever thought possible.”