Dreams and Missions: Deveran Conflict Series Book Five

By Robert Luis Rabello

Algernon Ravenwood wanted to get as far away from Cynthia Velez as possible. She was too lovely for him to resist, too compelling for him to turn away. Algernon knew that even if he never set eyes on her again, she’d live in his dreams and haunt his waking hours. As it was, he’d been dreaming of her every night . . .

Against his wishes, a strange set of circumstances arises to test Algernon’s mettle. Will he deny his desire and remain faithful to Bronwyn, his girl back home? Can he overcome personal doubt and the sneering contempt of those who deny his calling to the priesthood? If so, how can the Great God use a man who’d failed an important spiritual test?

Kira, Algernon’s twin sister, has to face strong opposition to her charitable work without the formidable assistance of her brothers. Ruthlessly attacked by the Temple leadership, Kira struggles to restore her damaged reputation. Her advocacy for women who work in the sex trade industry is threatened by evaporating financial support and social trouble at home. Can she triumph over those who cast aspersions on her dream of public service?

Lieutenant Garrick Ravenwood, the twins’ older brother, is suddenly called off to the Saradon Plateau. His unit faces a fierce and highly mobile enemy who refuses to fight on fair terms. Garrick has faced death before, but now he risks leaving his young bride as a widow for the rest of her days. Now he faces an enemy whose actions hack at the roots of everything he considers noble about the profession of soldiering. Will Garrick prevail on the battlefield? Will he win the battle for his soul?

Brenna Velez, Garrick’s newlywed bride, experiences the powerful change that Lithians call Y Newen, the bride’s desire. She longs for her husband, but his departure leaves her feeling empty and alone. In her new role as the palace music teacher, old conflicts over her youthful beauty and ethnicity arise. Can she motivate her reluctant students? Can she overcome the prejudice of their parents? Moreover, can Brenna survive and feel content without her beloved Garrick?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Luis Rabello
• Release date: May 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9780987829863

Robert Luis Rabello

When I was a young boy, my favorite place in the entire world provided shelter from the blistering summer sun beneath twisted, tangled California Live Oaks. The arroyo lay carpeted in a crisp bed of fallen leaves, beneath which water always flowed. Toward dusk, living creatures moved from their dens and resting places--small amphibians, birds and mammals--coming out to hunt, or be hunted.The contrast between the busy streets of my home town and this quiet place, which lay within a thirty minute bike ride of my house, drew me with increasing frequency as I grew older. My mother never complained when I brought new 'pets' home. I kept tadpoles in a jar, toads and snakes in a terrarium, then dutifully returned them to the 'wild' after observing their behavior for a little while.The day I saw an army of bulldozers arrive, my heart sank. Although somebody once told me that the subspecies of California Live Oak native to the San Rafael hills where I grew up lived in no other place on earth, the giant machines knocked them to the ground without mercy. In their place, a massive, fetid, noisome mountain of garbage rose toward the sky. I vowed to leave that place and live somewhere far away, where my new 'favorite place' could remain pristine. I swore that I would forsake California for Canada.Although that memory has faded, and its impact muted by a myriad of different experiences, somehow it retains an influence over my attitude toward people and the world I observe. It could be a better place, if something within us would change--That restless desire to instigate a revolution lies at the core of what motivates me to write. I put words on paper in the naive belief that somehow you will be different after my work has been read. This is not arrogance,merely hope.

Book preview

Dreams and Missions

a novel concerning

the commitment to principle

by

Robert Luis Rabello

Table of Contents

Alone

Mysteries

Consequences

Interviews

Damage Control

Cold Reality

Turning Points

Triumph

Homecoming

Alone

Algernon dreamed of autumn, of yellow sycamore and red maple leaves fluttering to the ground until they littered the landscape in brilliant color. A house he’d built stood in the midst of a hardwood forest, waiting. Every night the vision returned, and as he contemplated its meaning, Algernon concluded that this dream warned his life was about to change.

In the early morning, while he meditated on the stern of the steamship Haililiah, Algernon relished the cool, riverine air brushing past his unshaven face. Thick fog rose from the swirling water, obscuring river banks where ancient trees lifted their lofty branches into the concealing mist. Hunger from fasting for the past three days faded, and with physical weakness came clarity of thought achieved by a disciplined and focused mind. In this intensely introspective state, the radical priest examined his fears and motivations.

A familiar longing to renege his sacred vows, abandon his ministerial vocation and live in peaceful isolation mocked from Algernon’s consciousness. Was he truly fit for the priesthood? Could he ever atone for his wrongdoing? Algernon struggled against the desire to reveal this turmoil to his twin sister, Kira, and their older brother, Garrick. While he believed that Kira would offer solidarity and encouragement, and though Algernon trusted Garrick to judge him gently, something fiercely independent resisted the idea that anyone – even his intelligent and sympathetic siblings – should soothe his spiritual discomfort.

While the Haililiah’s twin scissor wheels tirelessly swished through the Desolation River’s cold water, stirring foam that lingered in its wake, Algernon could barely constrain his personal disappointment. Virtue could not exist without temptation. Yet that truth didn’t diminish his profound sense of regret. The malignant criticism of enemies, and the psychological trauma of maternal rejection had successfully undermined his spiritual discipline. At his brother’s wedding celebration, Algernon endured a season of deep self-doubt and weakness, leading him to focus the energy of his many frustrations on an obsession with Cynthia, the lovely daughter of Lynden Velez, a Lithian warlord.

She and he were now related by marriage. Brenna – Lord Lynden’s eldest child – was Garrick’s newlywed bride. During the celebrations Brenna’s younger sister became the object of a fantasy that he’d become strangely unable to resist. On the day before Garrick and Brenna exchanged their final vows, Algernon went hiking in the hills above the Velez estate. He’d caught a glimpse of Cynthia skinny dipping in a nearby hot spring, and though he should have respected her privacy and turned away, he hadn’t. He should have constrained his desire, rather than delighting in that forbidden view. He should have remembered Bronwyn, the young woman waiting for his return to Superstition Mesa. He should have considered how lingering to indulge in the sight of Cynthia while she bathed would hurt Bronwyn, upset his brother’s happiness, alienate his twin sister and stain his reputation.

But he’d pushed those thoughts away. Instead, he’d acted like most young men would under the circumstances and lingered to gaze where his eyes were forbidden. Now, as Algernon chided himself for lacking discipline, a persistent fear that he’d never been worthy of his calling screamed from his subconscious. His spiritual focus should have given him power to transcend ordinary behavior, yet he’d failed to do the right thing.

Algernon’s priestly title lent credibility to the ministerial work that his sister, Kira, and her best friend, Bronwyn extended to wayward women. Reaching out to strippers and prostitutes drew the disapproval of many people – including the Temple leadership – and stirred the disdain of exploiters who depended on an endless supply of naive girls for the sex trade. Algernon’s secret weakness – his longing to be loved by a beautiful woman – confirmed the complaints of his enemies.

Though he’d finally mustered self-control and turned away from his voyeuristic view of Cynthia, the young priest had tripped over a root and tumbled downhill in front of her. To his shame, his secret desire for Thea was finally and fully revealed.

The devout Velez family maintained very different views on attraction and courtship than his own people, the Tamarians. Though he’d initially resisted Thea’s urging that he act honorably and speak to her Amair about courting arrangements, Algernon eventually humbled himself and outlined the host of contradictory feelings tearing at his heart to Lord Velez.

Despite his misdeed, Cynthia hadn’t judged him harshly. Instead, she accepted his interest in her physique without condemnation. Her forgiveness made the option of leaving Bronwyn feel wickedly compelling. And that only made matters worse.

The more he learned about Thea Velez, the more he liked her. Clearly, she liked him, too. The irony of how his initial awkwardness in her presence faded after he’d seen her at the hot spring made him realize that brute physical attraction had blinded him to her character. Cynthia, though she lacked practical skills that underscored the wealth of her family – like her inability to cook and sew – turned out to be intelligent, engaging and devout.

But Bronwyn, while she wasn’t wealthy, nor as pretty, had a very compassionate heart. Unlike the Lithian maiden, Bronwyn knew the value of hard work and possessed a flair for cooking. She shared his culture, language and ministerial focus, too. In addition, Bronwyn had known Algernon long enough to understand both his noble motivations and his inner struggle to feel worthy of love. She accepted him in a manner that no other woman, aside from his twin sister, Kira, had ever done. He couldn’t leave her for Thea. The more he thought about this, the more he realized that he loved Bronwyn deeply.

Talking with Lord Velez hadn’t been easy, but the warlord listened to Algernon’s story with paternal emotions kept tightly under control, waiting to understand the logic of the young priest’s reasoning before drawing any conclusions. In the end, Algernon didn’t ask permission to formally date Cynthia.

Instead, he admitted fault and asked forgiveness, explaining that the need to support Kira’s fledgling ministry, coupled with the moral imperative to restore his relationship with Bronwyn, motivated his decision to return home and pursue his ministerial calling with renewed vigor, rather than staying at the villa to pursue a relationship with Thea.

Though Lord Velez recognized contrition in the younger man’s face and appreciated his willingness to seek reconciliation, he did not make light of his distress. Lynden’s rebuke came swiftly and firmly.

I must admit that I’m disappointed, the Lithian lord told Algernon. "From the moment you first arrived on your quest to rescue your twin sister last year, I have opened my home to you as I would an honored guest. For the sake of your brother and Brenna, I’ve accepted and trusted you as a faithful son. Nothing that you’ve needed have I withheld.

Now I hear you admit that your attitude toward Thea was not honorable – that she represents little more than an object you crave – and by saying this you’ve confirmed what my paternal instinct suspected all along. I’m grieved that I’ve allowed you to spend unsupervised time in her company.

I have complicated, but not compromised her virtue, Algernon replied, knowing that Lithians were obsessed with maiden chastity. While I regret having dishonored the family’s trust, your faith in my integrity was not misplaced. I have never touched your daughter inappropriately, yet I know I’ve done wrong and will accept any sanction you impose.

In the ensuing silence, Lynden thought carefully before speaking again. His expression softened and the resulting reprimand – delivered gently and accompanied by an encouraging hand on Algernon’s shoulder – simultaneously assuaged the younger man’s fear of punishment and called him into accountability.

Our ways differ from yours, Lord Lynden began. "You’ve shown courage by speaking honestly to me, and I don’t condemn you for finding my daughter beautiful. She is lovely, and the desire you have experienced for her is natural.

However, since you don’t intend to pursue a relationship, then I insist that for as long as you remain on my property, you must be escorted by a trusted servant. I will no longer permit you to spend time alone with my unmarried daughters. Though I am loathe to invade your personal liberty in this manner, your admission leaves me with little choice.

Algernon nodded. I understand, sir. What you have said is both reasonable and better than I deserve. I'm grateful for your magnanimity.

My heart also grieves for Thea, Lord Lynden continued, arising. She likes you and recognizes nobility in your character, despite the affront to her privacy. Lady Xina and I had hoped that your interest in our daughter would evolve beyond the stage of physical attraction into something more enduring; but you’re right to say that your ministerial calling, your devotion to your sister and the young woman you left at home deserve your full attention. I fully affirm your wisdom in this regard.

Then, Lord Velez shifted his right hand onto Algernon’s heart and addressed him solemnly, in the Lithian manner of uttering an oath. My beloved son, if you remain faithful in service to Allfather he will honor your devotion. If that vocation is the true mission of your soul, I counsel you to pursue its calling with all of your energy.

Thus, to Algernon’s astonishment, Lord Velez still thought of Algernon as his own son, despite his misdeed. That was familial love of a type and depth the Tamarian holy man struggled to understand.

Later, Algernon heard Cynthia weeping in her upstairs room and his own heart ached. Had he exhibited self-control at the hot spring he’d have never hurt the young woman. As the consequences of his personal failing reverberated through the Velez family, he’d felt a crushing sense of responsibility for her misery. Lord and Lady Velez arranged a reconciliation meeting with Algernon, his siblings and their daughters to repair strained relationships and promote emotional healing, in harmony with family customs. After this, the Velez sisters never wore maiden clothes in his company, and a kindly servant named Mostyn accompanied him everywhere.

Now, as the Haililiah churned restlessly toward the Tamarian port of Red Claw on the Desolation River, Algernon sat on its fantail deck rail in moody silence, annoyed that his usual place on the bow was occupied by crew members keeping a careful eye on the river for obstacles. He wanted to be alone while he processed complex feelings about leaving Cynthia behind.

He knew that by returning home, he was running away from the shame of his misdeed. He eagerly wished to leave the whole sorry episode behind, but that thought intensified his spiritual doubt and left him feeling like a coward.

Cynthia came from a very different culture. Though the Velez family cared about the poor – a principle Algernon considered essential – she, as Brenna had initially, wrinkled her brow concerning Kira’s ministry to sex workers. She expressed no enthusiasm for extending love to such women. These factors, and an ill-defined, nagging sense that she not the right woman for him underscored the wisdom of going home. Yet, the fantasy of beautiful Thea lingered on the fringes of his consciousness.

Every moment of travel downstream brought him closer to Bronwyn. Diligent, practical and wonderfully comforting, she had the training, the desire and skills for a lifelong commitment to public service. All of that had been very important to him before the hot spring incident. Bronwyn sincerely loved him and he loved her. But now, he questioned his vocation and felt unworthy of her devotion.

What would he do if she decided to leave him?

A shout arose from one of the lookouts stationed on the bow. The crewman raised a red flag in his left hand as a warning for the pilot to turn the boat away from a hazard. But the twin-wheeled Haililiah, though exceedingly maneuverable, had been traveling too quickly downstream for the pilot to react in time.

A sudden jolt shuddered the steam boat as its armored bow crashed into a huge, partially-submerged rock. The groaning sound of thick steel scraping on stone vibrated through the hull, and a moment later, its high-tech, starboard scissor wheel jammed on a large snag that lay hidden beneath the swollen river’s turgid surface. Listing dangerously to port, the river boat teetered on the rock while its stern swung wildly with the current.

Algernon gripped the rail in desperation, but his forward momentum continued while the vessel pitched violently to the left. He tumbled backwards, twisting his arms unnaturally as his heels arced skyward. Algernon smacked the back of his head hard against the outer deck, reflexively let go of the rail and tumbled into the Desolation River.

The cold, swift current enveloped his body in its frigid embrace. Shock tore through his flesh. Panic and confusion drowned all rational thought, but long experience in water restrained his gasping reflex until he’d reached the surface for air. Though an excellent swimmer, the young man felt weak from fasting. To his horror, the sound of the Haililiah’s side-mounted scissor wheel thrashing the water in reverse motion motivated a frantic effort to escape.

Haililiah’s pilot had poured power into the port drive system in a desperate move to clear the obstruction, back the boat off the rock and regain directional control. With the crew’s attention directed toward the emergency on the bow, no one saw Algernon fall off the stern and the pilot had no idea the young man's life was in jeopardy.

Calling on strength reserves as adrenaline flooded his slender, muscular body, Algernon kicked and clawed to swim away from the churning, meat-grinder scissor wheel. Sputtering and coughing, feeling his vigor and stamina quickly sapped by cold water, Algernon screamed for help. Carried along by the swift, turbulent current, he watched in dismay as the steamship settled, righted its course, and continued downstream, vanishing into the mist.

***

Garrick awakened from shallow slumber with a start. This time, his instant alertness didn’t stem from combat trauma. He’d not had a bad dream. Across the tiny berth from the narrow bed where he’d been sleeping, his wife abruptly stopped her morning prayers, turned and caught his gaze with dark, widened eyes.

A horrible scraping sound, the dangerous perception of tipping, followed by a shudder, a backward spin, the hollow, gut-wrenching sensation of falling, then rocking side-to-side as the boat regained buoyancy made their hearts beat fast. Fear quickened their hearts, yet neither Garrick nor Brenna – his beautiful, newlywed wife – panicked.

What was that? he asked out loud.

Brenna shook her head, her movement echoed by the side-to-side motion of black hair that didn’t quite reach her bare shoulders. She put a finger to her lips and concentrated on a distinct change in the rhythm and pitch of the scissor wheels.

When she returned her gaze to her husband, an expression of worry evolved on her pretty face. I think the boat’s been damaged, she replied. The wheel on the right side sounds unbalanced.

That couldn’t be good.

Maybe we should get dressed, Garrick suggested. As a military officer he was accustomed to giving orders, but knowing Brenna well, he avoided issuing commands to her. Lithians didn’t like being told what to do, and strong-willed Brenna was mostly Lithian in ancestry.

Though she often acted with far less urgency than short-lived humans like her husband, Brenna moved with alacrity whenever she felt so inclined. In this case, she’d slipped into clothes and tightened her sandals before her husband finished relieving himself in their compact bathroom. Brenna laid out a clean pair of pants, socks and a sweater for him to wear, then retrieved his shoes from their resting place near the door as he emerged from the toilet.

Oh, he remarked, seeing the clothes she'd put on their bed. That's sweet of you.

She smiled wistfully as he dressed. Watching the way his strong body moved as he pulled his sweater overhead stirred her longing. She wanted to run her fingers through his short-cropped blonde hair and kiss the handsome face that emerged from beneath fabric that strained around the periphery of his neck, barely containing his broad shoulders and muscular chest. His physique awakened her desire, along with gratitude that all of this masculine wonder belonged to her, exclusively.

Brenna wanted to wrap her legs around him, but with his focus directed at minimum standards for grooming – rather than requited admiration of her lovely feminine form – she snapped out of her erotic reverie. The Lithian woman wordlessly reached for her brush, quickly stroking through her hair, mindful of how strange it felt to stop brushing a handbreadth below her ear, rather than all the way down to her waist, as she’d done for most of her life. Now that she was a married woman, she no longer proclaimed purity by wearing long locks and wispy, maiden clothes. Now, until she drew her last breath, her virtue would be defined by fidelity to Garrick.

Moments later, a call for general quarters came over the intercom. Anxious voices and the sound of heavy footfalls racing down the hallway beyond their berth increased the young couple’s sense of urgency. Once Garrick finished tying his shoe laces he led Brenna out of their little room. In harmony with the safety procedures they’d been taught before departure, the young couple followed one of Captain Lord Kerry’s adult sons down the narrow hall, carefully descended a steep staircase behind the pilot house, then raced to the muster station on the main deck.

The moist, morning air felt cool, given the heat of the previous day, but the night had been clear enough to see the Great Eye nebula rise in the southern sky. Within an hour the Daystar would burn off the early morning fog, revealing sparsely-populated riparian landscapes that now lay hidden on either side of the river.

Crew members scrambled to and fro as the passengers arrived. Acacia, the intensely shy, second-eldest of the Velez sisters, followed her betrothed, Jared Hohner, onto the deck. Cassie exchanged brief kisses with Brenna – on the lips, and Kira, on the cheek – in harmony with Lithian customs – while Jared kissed both women on their foreheads and Garrick did the same to Cassie.

After verifying a report that the starboard scissor wheel and its drive system had been damaged, Waldemar, the crew chief, approached the assembled passengers. He addressed everyone in Lithian while another crewman retrieved and passed out life vests.

We want you to stay here and stay calm! he warned. We’ve hit a rock, but the hull is intact and we’re not in danger. All I can tell you right now is that we’ve got ruptured hydraulics in the starboard drive wheel, which makes it harder to steer the ship. If the pilot loses directional control, we’ll deploy the lifeboats and evacuate all of you to the north shore.

Garrick translated for Kira – who didn’t speak the language – then held his wife close. Unaccustomed to idleness in an emergency, energy hummed through his limbs. For the moment he obeyed the crew chief’s command and relished the comfort of his bride’s warm and yielding embrace.

Platinum-haired Kira, who’d been smart enough to put on warm leggings, gloves and a knit cap, began wandering around the deck, casting worried glances at doorways, ladders and over the stern. Where was Algernon?

Jared, Cassie’s handsome lawyer boyfriend, shared a berth with him, but Kira spoke neither Lithian, nor much Kamerese, and had never heard Jared speak Southern Vulgate, the widespread tongue of the Azgaril used as a common language. Because she didn’t want to make a fool of herself by talking to Cassie’s boyfriend, nor did she wish to interrupt the tender affection shared by her eldest brother and his new bride, Kira bit her lip and suppressed her panic.

A baldpated crew member announced that all the cabins had been checked and the sleeping quarters were empty. He asked the passengers assembled not to return upstairs. We need to keep everyone here, he said, neglecting to check the passenger manifest. Judging from the size of the crowd, he’d wrongly presumed that everyone had been in their berths when the accident happened.

Directly behind him, Jhiran Vell – a widowed gwynling who stood as tall as a human child, habitually wore dirty clothes and usually called the Haililiah her home – drifted up from the galley with a partly-eaten pear in her hand and a bit of bread stuffed into her pockets. The gwynling, a diminutive, winged species of humanoid, had nearly been hunted to extinction in the shrinking redwood forests that formed their natural habitat. On the Haililiah, Jhiran felt safe and enjoyed the crew’s affection. She hugged every passenger until she noticed something in Kira’s demeanor that stopped her cold.

Though Kira didn’t like the spooky way the gwynling could read unexpressed thoughts and put her own into the minds of others, when Jhiran made eye contact with her, Kira heard sympathy whisper into her mind and let the unkempt little woman gain insight into what she was thinking. Unspoken fear made a rare impact on Jhiran’s generally unexpressive face, and as Kira turned her head away to hide her brimming emotions, Jhiran raced over to Garrick and Brenna, rudely interrupting the newlywed couple by tugging on the officer’s sleeve.

Where’s the holy man? she asked out loud.

Having presumed that Algernon was standing among the other passengers, Garrick scanned the three families present and felt panic surge through his soul when he realized that his brother was not present. Weren’t the boat’s crewmen supposed to check for that?

Brenna relinquished her husband and glanced at Kira, noting her sister-in-law’s distress. What next? she murmured, wearily.

With his attention focused on finding his younger brother, Garrick let her go. Knowing Algernon’s penchant for rising early, he approached Jared with a cautious inquiry. Have you seen my brother this morning?

Jared shook his head. 1He prefers to do his prayers and stretching before I awaken. I haven’t seen him, but he must be around here somewhere.

I hope you’re right, Garrick replied, worriedly. As the eldest in his family, Garrick had always felt responsible for his younger siblings.

Hearing this, alarm rose on Cassie’s fair face. Genuine worry for Algernon revealed the extent to which she’d accepted him as a member of her family. Cassie expressed her wordless concern with saddened eyes and a gentle squeeze of Jared’s hand.

Unlike Brenna and her loved ones, Garrick didn’t believe in God. He didn’t pray either, but the dreadful reality that his brother had gone missing inspired a curse, which was about as close as Garrick ever came to a spiritual utterance.

He knelt to address Jhiran face to face. You know this boat better than anyone, he said. Please help me find my brother!

Jhiran wiped the juice and little bits of pear from her mouth with her sleeve while nodding. She stuffed the fruit into her pocket and scampered away, with Garrick hard-pressed to match her pace. Despite her small size and advanced age – her own children were all older than Jared, the eldest of Garrick and Brenna’s generation – Jhiran moved with impressive speed.

Frowning worriedly as she watched her husband depart, Brenna pulled her sister Cassie, Jared and Kira into a circle. Will you pray with me? she asked. Though Kira felt too overwhelmed with worry to contribute, she assented as the boat continued downstream, leaving her twin brother further and further behind.

***

Jhiran vanished down the stairs that led below deck, swiftly coursing around shirtless crew members who either ignored her because they were busy, or called her name and affectionately patted her head as she passed by. Machine noise and the shouts of men mingled with the oily stench of burnt hydraulic fluid and hot, humid air that overwhelmed Garrick’s hearing, overpowered his sense of smell, and quickly drew sweat from his flesh.

She started in the galley. Jhiran searched through bulkhead bins, looked under tables, into storage compartments located beneath the galley’s bench seats, then raced through the kitchen and opened each of the cabinets and cupboards, to the dismay of the wiry, dark-skinned Kamerese cook, who called after her in fruitless frustration. She dashed into and out of the cold storage units, clambered over barrels and inspected the pantry.

Garrick, watching this high-energy search, scrunched his brow in both admiration and frustration, thinking that Jhiran was being unnecessarily thorough. A moment later, she made eye contact with him and he heard the articulatory voice in his own head say, You asked me to find the holy man. I’m looking!

She deftly unlocked the brig, peering into each of its four empty cells before sprinting past Garrick and entering the ship’s hold. One of the crewmen startled the Tamarian officer by placing a firm hand on his shoulder. This is no place for passengers, the man reminded him. For your own safety, we’d like you to stay on deck, with the others.

Turning away, Garrick walked into an atomized cloud of hydraulic fluid that had sprayed all over the starboard side wheelhouse. It stung his eyes and made him cough. Bilge pumps whined. Sounds of hammering punctuated the huffing steam song and blended with groaning, grinding machinery that the required sweating crewmen to raise their voices as they worked feverishly to repair their ship.

Garrick rubbed his eyes as Jhiran slipped between two sailors and made her way to the boiler rooms. Since she’d been living on the vessel longer than anyone else, the crew had grown accustomed to her meanderings and didn’t concern themselves with what she was doing. Moving swiftly, she carefully avoided interfering with the repair work. After checking both boiler rooms for Algernon, Jhiran explored the front bulkheads.

Retreating to the stairwell, Garrick waited for several minutes until Jhiran, glistening with sweat, reappeared and breathlessly bounded back upstairs. He’s not down here! she said out loud.

Garrick couldn’t keep up as Jhiran dashed about on the deck, examined every shadow around the ship’s gun turrets, climbed a ladder attached to outer bulkheads and fearlessly leaped across on the roof of the bunk house. She peered around the masts, clambered over the cables, jumped to the pilot house and then, spreading her wings, glided to the main deck. With a singular glance to the bow and the stern from his vantage point at the apex of the ladder, Garrick confirmed that Algernon wasn’t on the top of the boat.

But why would he be up there, anyway? Though he knew the young priest enjoyed solitude, Garrick didn’t think his brother would be hiding in a situation like this. That wasn’t like him.

The Tamarian soldier shook his head as he descended. Analyzing Jhiran’s actions, he realized that she was checking every nook and cranny that she could wedge her tiny body into, as if incapable of discerning that Algernon couldn’t cram himself into her personal hiding places. Garrick sighed as she explored beneath the lifeboats, opened various storage bins located around the main deck and squeezed her little head into the air intake funnels.

He wouldn’t fit in there! Garrick exclaimed, exasperated. He’s much bigger than you are!

Jhiran ignored him, focusing on the rail with a furrowed brow. Near the fantail she stopped, pointing at a particular place. She made eye contact and spoke directly into Garrick’s mind. He was sitting here, she announced.

Puzzled, Garrick approached. Observing carefully, he realized that Jhiran had made a very clever deduction. Moisture had condensed on the aluminum rail, but one spot – an area wide enough for an adult human to sit upon – remained dry. On either side of this section the moisture had been smeared, as if by hands that had been gripping the metal. Garrick stooped for a close look at the gunwale, where he found a bit of blonde hair wedged into the planking. All of the Lithians onboard had either black or silver hair.

Something cold stabbed Garrick’s heart. Six weeks earlier, just before they’d buried their deceased parents, he’d told his brother, One day, either you'll stand over my grave, or I'll stand over yours. Remembering those words cast a cold shadow over Garrick’s soul. He fell to his knees and despairing, struggled against an overpowering sense of loss. Seeing this, Jhiran lifted his chin in a motherly manner and whispered into his mind. Don’t worry. I’ll find him, she promised.

The tireless gwynling ran up to the bunk house, climbed the ladder to its roof, then scaled the lookout mast. At the top, she balanced herself on its perch, spread her arms and wings, then leaped forward and turned toward the stern in flight. Her arcing dive provided enough speed to sustain flight, and a moment later, Jhiran vanished into the mist over the Haililiah’s wake.

***

Lord Kerry Halvord was not impressed. He pulled Garrick aside to reprimand the soldier privately, speaking in a stern voice that belied the Lithian convention of respecting free will. You were told to stay at the muster station, he growled. You should have reported your missing brother to Waldemar instead of wasting time searching for him, yourself. Not only did you put your own well-being in peril, you have also greatly diminished the odds of your brother’s survival. Complicating matters, I now have two missing passengers instead of one!

Then why didn’t someone from your crew check the passenger manifest? Garrick inquired. He could be assertive when necessary and didn’t like being cornered like this. You wouldn’t have known anyone was missing if you’d not seen Jhiran fly off!

Though Garrick had a point, Lord Kerry didn’t relent. "I am responsible for everything that happens on this boat, and I will deal with the negligence of my crew. But let me state this clearly. On this vessel, I give the orders and you follow them. You have no right to take initiative, no rights at all unless I grant them.

Ordinarily we would put to shore in fog like this, but I remind you that we were underway because you have to get to Red Claw in time to catch your train. I accommodated your need and put my ship at risk to deliver you to your destination in a timely manner. Cross me again and you’ll be walking home! You got that, soldier?

Garrick accepted the censure meekly. He’d been out of line and he knew better than to defy the captain’s authority, but worry for Algernon had clouded his judgment. That’s why, in the Tamarian army, close relatives and married couples were not permitted to serve in the same unit. When he returned to the muster station and explained the outcome of Jhiran’s search to his little sister, Kira put her head on his shoulder and began weeping in her brother's embrace. Seeing this, Brenna felt helpless to do anything more than express solidarity with proximity and affection.

Lord Kerry ordered the boat to beach on the Tamarian side of the river and had Waldemar organize a search crew. While they prepared a fast, electric rescue boat, Lord Halvord beckoned for his family and other passengers to gather around. We grounded on a submerged rock and hit a large snag that jammed the starboard scissor wheel and broke two of its blades, he explained. "Fortunately, the boat is armored and very tough. Her hull is intact, but excessive hydraulic pressure burst the drive fluid feed. Until we repair the wheel’s drive system, navigation is going to be much more complicated.

All of that can be fixed. We’re working on replacing the damaged hydraulic line right now, but we can’t replace the wheel blades until we pull into a major port. That means a temporary repair will have to do, and we don’t know how long a short-term fix will hold up. At the moment, what concerns me the most is that it looks like we’ve lost Algernon overboard in the accident, and Jhiran flew off to find him. Lord Kerry gave no indication that he’d been upset at Garrick while saying this.

As a precaution, please wear the safety vests we’ve provided and remain here, at the muster station, until we’ve finished repairs and the search crew has found both Algernon and Jhiran. I appreciate your cooperation. We will be serving your breakfast here, within the hour.

What are the odds he survived? Garrick inquired, openly asking the grim question that others pondered, but dared not utter.

An expression of deep concern crossed Lord Kerry’s face as he turned his head toward the river, gazing across its roiling surface. When he returned his attention to Garrick, the tone of the Lithian lord’s voice and the inflection he used revealed skepticism. "The water is cold and swift. This fog is thick enough to obscure at least half of the surface, which means that the rescue team has limited visibility. It’s tough to see a swimmer in the water under normal circumstances, but in these conditions the boats might miss him entirely.

"The current flows a little over 5 knots, and we were traveling at 19 knots when we hit the snag. If your brother fell into the stream on impact, about 20 minutes ago, we’ve traveled roughly seven miles downstream. If he’s drifting with the current, there may be as few as five miles separating us.

But I’ll be honest. Survival odds are slim. I’m sure you know that water removes body heat many times faster than air. If he hasn’t made it to shore or washed up on one of the gravel banks, we’ll need to find him within the hour.

He’s a good swimmer, Garrick replied, a bit of desperation creeping into his voice. As kids we used to swim in Broken Wing Lake, which forms the headwaters of this river. The lake was always cold, but we didn’t suffer.

Lord Kerry could not affirm Garrick’s hope. Because they were conversing in Lithian, cultural considerations weighed against letting that remark stand. His training as a physician and his experience as a boat captain demanded an honest response.

Any exertion in water of this temperature rapidly cools the blood pumped to the extremities. If your brother tries to swim, that will only make matters worse. We need to find him and get him out of the water as soon as possible.

***

Gwynling were not the largest flying creatures that lived on Devera, but their similarity in mass and proportion to human children meant that their wing loading was far greater than that of the biggest flying birds. As a result, gwynling were best suited for gliding from lofty places, where the speed of descent permitted controllable, sustained flight. This ability protected them from predators who shared secluded upland forest habitats, where massive trees often reached more than 300 feet in height.

Jhiran’s dive from the crow’s nest enabled her to glide for several hundred feet before she had to exert energy to stay aloft. Pulsing her membrane wings to generate lift, the gwynling woman climbed into the fog and glided in a gentle slope toward the Kamerese shore, splashing into the cold shallows near a copse of evergreen trees. She sloshed onto the river bank, breathing hard from exertion, and while sitting on the rocky beach to catch her breath, pulled her partly-eaten pear out for a snack. The fruit had been badly bruised, but she wasn't concerned about its appearance. Jhiran felt hungry and would have eaten nearly anything . . . .

She hadn’t been sitting long when a raven flew down from the trees and hopped along the ground nearby. Jhiran smiled as she made eye contact with the bird, whose natural curiosity made the ensuing mental connection seamless and comfortable.

He was also hungry and wanted some of her fruit. Jhiran bit off a piece and offered it to him. The raven hopped forward and ate the fruit directly from her hand. More? he thought.

Again, Jhiran bit off another piece for the bird. He was remarkably intelligent and wondered why, when people usually traveled in groups, he’d found her all alone.

Knowing it would be difficult to explain her circumstances, the gwynling woman didn’t let the bird change the subject. Besides, she usually avoided discussing her own kind, as many years earlier – after her husband died – she’d been banished from her village. Help me, she implored in her psionic manner. I need to find a lost friend.

The closest idea to the concept of friendship for the raven was flockmate. Uncertain of the idea, the bird inquired, Shiny?

Jhiran realized that the raven had made a contextual connection between friendship and something it considered valuable, which was pretty advanced thinking for a bird. If he was clever enough to figure that out, she figured he could help. Jhiran focused her thoughts on Algernon, projecting an image of his form into the bird’s mind.

Danger! thought the bird, spreading his wings, cawing loudly and backing away in alarm.

Gentle and kindly, she replied, reassuringly.

The raven continued scolding, his suspicion portrayed by bobbing his body up and down. Despite his scepticism, the bird’s hunger motivated trust and he eyed the gwynling’s pear, wanting more. Jhiran gave him another piece, then concentrated on the Haililiah so that the bird could visualize the boat.

He cocked his head to the side, unfamiliar with a deck-level perspective of the vessel. Rare, the raven recalled, having seen the craft only a few times. Burning forest smell. No fish! No food!

Help me! Jhiran pleaded. I need to find my friend, and I can’t fly very far!

Food? the raven asked, seeking a reward.

Jhiran stroked the wild bird’s head with her finger to calm him, and as he relaxed, she affirmed the bargain with visions of bounty. On the boat.

The raven flapped into flight, calling to family members with the promise of a feast. He ascended into the trees above the mist, cawing raucously until the sound of many wings and other corvid voices mingled with his. The birds flew down to the shore, where Jhiran imprinted each of their impatient number with the image of what Algernon looked like. Their wings hastily fluttered over the water until they merged into the gradually lifting fog and their cackling calls blended into an indistinct and increasingly distant chorus.

***

Shivering uncontrollably and growing weak, Algernon could not prevail against the cold, fast-flowing river. His fingers and toes soon felt completely numb. Though he tried to keep as much of his body out of the water as possible, soon even the muscular coordination required to hold his head above the surface became progressively more difficult to maintain. Fiery pain throbbed through his flesh as the river swept the Tamarian priest downstream, smashing him against rocks, drowned trees and swirling him into vortexes that – miraculously – spat him back into the main current rather than pulling him under. He flailed at floating debris in a vain effort to grab something that might preserve his life, but couldn’t muster the combination of strength and coordination to grasp and hang on.

Delirium fought for control of his mind while his core temperature plummeted and his body utterly betrayed him. With fog obscuring the shore, Algernon couldn’t see the shortest route to safety and didn’t know where he was going. Thus, the surging waters relentlessly propelled his failing body downstream. Waves and riverine debris pummeled him malevolently with a tireless energy that magnified Algernon’s rising panic. Nothing felt normal. He sputtered, thrashing against the current like he’d forgotten how to swim. Algernon didn’t want to die, but the heartless river didn’t care. He felt utterly alone and between hyperventilating breaths cried out in despair for Kira, as if she could hear and help him.

Trapped in the embrace and swirling thrust of dangerous current, a sense of powerlessness prevailed until Algernon could think of nothing other than screaming desperate and impotent pleas to the Great God for help. Prayers had typically been a formal, liturgical exercise, but in desperation he felt hopeless and believed he had nothing to lose.

He lost track of time. After being immersed for what felt like many hours, a faint response of rational thought warned that he needed to stop fighting the river before sheer exhaustion occurred. Algernon shivered violently and lost so much muscular control that he eventually couldn’t muster the requisite coordination to tread water. He gave up, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned backward, facing the clearing sky, focusing his remaining energy on breathing. As tunnel vision set in and darkness enveloped his consciousness, Algernon heard the sound of ravens cawing above him, but remembered nothing more.

***

Kira lingered on the rail for a long time, staring across the Desolation River until the Daystar finally burned off the fog that veiled its southern bank. She reflected on how radically her attitude and thinking had changed, recalling the sense of adventure she’d felt when first seeing the northern edge of Kameron, only a year earlier. Nearly every aspect of her life had turned completely around in the aftermath of her experience across the river.

She thought she’d been clever, when in fact, her drug dealing boyfriend, Marco, had deceived her with flattery. She thought she’d be free in his arms, but he’d hooked her on opium and lured her to a land where she had no rights of citizenship and no legal protection. She’d run away from Astrid, her lover at the Temple Elsbireth, run away from Algernon and his relentless criticism, hoping that by doing so, she could forever leave behind the dreadful memories of her abusive home life and her exploited experience at the Temple. Back then, she’d wanted to find happiness.

Marco, however, had no concern for the aspirations of a vulnerable Tamarian girl. While she was high he’d branded her as a slave, ostensibly to protect her while they traveled through the front lines, then sold her soon after she’d given herself to him. She thought she’d been strong, but Marco exploited her weakness, and Kira hated herself for believing his lies.

Yet Algernon and Astrid did not abandon her to the miserable fate of a sex slave. They'd not left her to face her fate alone. Together, they searched through a landscape torn by civil war, risking their lives to save hers. Algernon found her in a dingy bar, fought and overpowered thugs who’d held her captive, then brought her to his new home on Superstition Mesa. Algernon had taken care of her with astonishing patience and tenderness through opium withdrawal – when she'd been at her worst – and a painful miscarriage.

He’d outsmarted a clan of giants, built a beautiful, spacious home as a headquarters for her ministry to women seeking escape from the sex trade, and defended their lives from the murderous threats of the Black Blade Assassin’s Guild.

Everything good in Kira’s life had come through collaboration with her twin brother. Kira knew Algernon’s heart better than anyone else. He’d always wanted to leave a positive mark in the world, to make a difference for the downtrodden. While the Temple leaders questioned his calling, and some citizens of Marvic – Tamaria’s capital city – didn’t think strichmadchen and strippers warranted any spiritual concern, Algernon never wavered in his conviction to protect vulnerable women from exploitation. Kira knew her brother made an excellent priest. She’d witnessed his care for wounded souls and felt convinced that this trait revealed divine influence in his heart.

Yet if the Great God had been with him, why had he fallen overboard? Hadn’t God preserved his life when he’d been attacked by bullies, when Marco shot at him, when he’d braved a brutal civil war, faced a cave bear, fought angry giants and defeated killers from the assassin’s guild?

So why this? Why now?

It didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem fair. Kira needed his help as much as the widow Vandegraff did with chores on her farm, a task he took on in addition to his own work on their homestead. He’d never flinched from service and always worked hard. Why wouldn’t the Great God honor that?

Brenna, who’d grown close to Kira in recent months and loved her as she did her own siblings, approached with a plate of fresh fruit and a bagel topped with cream cheese. She asked why her sister-in-law hadn’t stood in line for breakfast service.

Kira turned her head away. I’m not hungry, she replied. I can’t eat knowing that Algernon may be dying out there.

Brenna ran her left hand up Kira’s back and pulled her into a soft embrace. Allfather God knows your heart, she said quietly.

Kira leaned against the rail and drew the Lithian woman’s head against her shoulder, grateful that Brenna’s closeness wrought comfort. I wish I shared your confidence. I’m afraid I’ll never see him again. Why do bad things happen to good people?"

I don’t know, Brenna replied, lingering in tight proximity until she felt her sister-in-law relax and relinquish her hold. Brenna slid to Kira’s left and drew a stray strand of pale hair away from her face. The newlywed woman held an orange carpel to Kira’s lips with a tiny frown of concern. Kira accepted the gesture as a token of Brenna’s kindness and ate the fruit wordlessly.

Brenna broke off bits of her bagel as her attention drifted dreamily toward Garrick, who was conversing with Jared about the rescue operation a few feet away. She offered a piece of bread to Kira, comfortable in the ensuing silence until she’d collected her thoughts and continued the conversation. All I can say is that God is moved by our pain and feels compassion for our distress.

After stating this, Brenna lifted her face heavenward. Kira let her eyes wander along an ugly scar that extended in a long line from Brenna’s right ear and vanished beneath her knit sweater’s collar. Every time Kira looked at that wound she shuddered, astonished that Brenna managed to cope so well with the permanent and fearful disfiguring of her otherwise flawless flesh.

That unsightly scar unnerved anyone who beheld it, yet the wound symbolized divine power to prevail over hardship. Despite her suffering, Brenna developed the serenity to accept the imposed imperfection. Because she’d known affliction intimately, because she’d come so dangerously close to losing her own life as a POW – less than a year earlier – her words carried credibility.

Though Kira longed to share Brenna’s confidence, she couldn’t help feeling upset and worried for Algernon. Her anxiety stirred unspeakable fear, as the prospect of facing all her problems without his formidable assistance terrified the young woman. I hope you’re right, she said, leaning toward her sister-in-law so that their heads touched. He’s all alone out there. If he’s hurt, or if he dies, I don’t know what I’m going to do!

Brenna took hold of Kira’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. We are never alone, she replied. Allfather is always with us.

***

The Cupitor Mineralis moved swiftly against the Desolation River’s current. While she looked like a small, conventional freighter, she served as a research vessel. For several days her crew had clandestinely sampled riverbed deposits at the nexus of every tributary stream, using an air dredge that stirred silt from the bottom. They pumped turgid water into a set of centrifuges that separated suspended minerals by weight for assaying. Mining vessels used similar equipment to scour the lower reaches of heavily-sedimented rivers, like the Angry Bear further to the west, but didn’t venture into the relatively clean flow of the Desolation and her tributaries, in order to avoid arrest and heavy fines.

While dredging remained legal in Kameron, Tamarian authorities frowned on this activity for two reasons. First of all, air dredging damaged fragile fish habitat. Additionally, mining of any kind was heavily taxed in Tamaria; therefore, the authorities viewed dredging on a river border as tax evasion.

She was traveling near flank speed, using the fog as cover to avoid a modern and powerful Kamerese Inland Navy patrol boat known to operate in this region. Because the Cupitor Mineralis moved by vane-controlled thrusters located at her bow and stern, she was even more maneuverable and far faster than the older, paddle-wheeled boats plying the river. Six heavy, turret-mounted machine guns meant that her crew could put up a nasty fight if necessary, which deterred piracy so effectively she didn’t need an escort.

But most importantly, her crafty and experienced commander – an expatriate Azgar named Blandon de Fortunato – didn’t want to draw undue attention to himself or his mission. Azgar citizens were loved neither in Kameron, nor Tamaria – the two nations bordering on this river – and he didn’t have a permit for mining from either government.

Blandon had ventured up the Desolation before Kameron’s recent civil war, but hadn’t returned until King Alejo proclaimed a new constitution, and commerce returned to the nation’s rails and rivers. Blandon used the opportunity to further investigate an earlier discovery.

Though the ship’s centrifuges relied on river current for power, the huge pumps that pushed the vessel upstream and compressed air for the dredge were twinned versions of the rotary steam engines used on older Tamarian locomotives. Unlike the Haililiah, which had a wood-fired gasifying boiler and side scissor wheels, Cupitor Mineralis burned ethanol directly in her modified rotary engines, which in turn, drove jet pumps for propulsion. She moved with a suspicious stream of bubbles in her wake.

Alejandro, one of the ships crewmen who’d been stationed on the bow to watch for navigational hazards, noticed a conspiracy of ravens on the rocky shore of an island in midstream. These were such common birds they nearly warranted invisibility, but this assembly seemed extraordinarily large, and gathering on the ground – rather than collecting in the trees – this group didn’t fit his previous observations of their behavior.

That was strange.

He checked to make sure the area immediately in front of the boat was safe, then examined the island using binoculars. What he witnessed made him catch his breath and pause. The birds surrounded what looked like a body lying in the shallows, not daring to come too close.

Man by the board! Forty yards ahead, port side! Alejandro shouted repeatedly, stirring the crew into action.

Blandon heard the cry and could have ordered his boat onward, ignoring the scene in the hope that some other vessel would take action. But he didn’t pause for a moment to contemplate the risk to his clandestine mission. Instead, he sounded the alarm, ordered his crew to rescue the victim and activated the boat’s emergency lighting.

The ship’s first mate navigated into a calm spot just south of the island. Once the Cupitor Mineralis pulled up over its anchor, the rescue team raced for the shore in a motorized life boat.

Among them was the ship’s nurse, a tall, dark-skinned Abelscinnian woman named Niobe. Though the ‘Scinnians had been subject to the Azgaril for three generations and she was an Azgar citizen, Niobe had been captured in Illithia during the subjugation of that nation. An unfortunate provision of Azgar law denied prisoners of war taken in any conflict the rights they could normally claim as citizens; thus she’d been sold as a slave and now served Captain de Fortunato.

Testing the water’s temperature by immersing her hand in the river, Niobe