In a world of steamships and Progress, no one who sails due south across the Wild Sea ever returns.
No one knows why.
Dale Mortensen intends to solve the mystery. With the help of an old sailor and a reformed playboy searching for his missing sweetheart, he locates a captain and crew ambitious—not to mention crazy—enough to undertake the journey across the Wild Sea.
The Infinity and her crew sail south, but the truth of what really lies on the other side of the horizon is more amazing—and terrifying—than anything they can imagine.
It’s the adventure of a lifetime—and it may just get Dale and his friends killed.
Find out how this Young Adult steampunk adventure unfolds chapter-by-chapter every Thursday! Click here to start from the beginning. Or if you want to read it at your own pace, buy the ebook for $7.99 from Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Smashwords or Sony, or get it as a trade paperback from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Book Depository.
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HORIZON
E. R. PASKEY
TEN
AS IT TURNED OUT, DALE DID NOT need to go out searching for Belly Skoog again. The next morning, when he came down for breakfast, he found the one-legged sailor sitting at his usual table. From the looks of it, he was halfway through breakfast.
“Was wonderin’ when you’d make an appearance, lad,” said Belly through a mouthful of toast. “The sun’s over the horizon.”
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Belly.” Dale took a seat at the table with him.
Keen blue eyes regarded him over a giant mug of coffee. “You’ve been lookin’ fer me, ain’t ya?”
“Yes, sir, I have.” Dale caught Mrs. Puca’s eye; she tilted her head in a silent question and he nodded. Breakfast ordered, he turned back to Belly. “Have you heard of any ventures sailing south?”
“South?” asked Belly, this time through a mouthful of egg. “South as in—” He went very still. “Ya don’t mean—”
“I do,” said Dale firmly.
Slowly, Belly laid his fork down on his plate. “You’re serious, lad?”
“Been planning it for years.” Dale rested his forearms on the table. “I have to know, Belly. I’ve read everything I can get my hands on, and I’ve talked to everyone who will tell me anything, but no one really knows the truth.”
“That’s why it’s called a legend,” Belly pointed out.
Dale gave him a look. “Aren’t you curious at all? Don’t you wonder what’s out there?” He made a vague gesture in the direction of the sea.
“Oh, aye, I wonder,” said Belly sharply. “Just never wondered enough to actually try it.”
“Well, I want to try it.” Dale fell silent as Ophelia appeared at his elbow and started laying dishes out on the table. He nodded his thanks when she finished.
Belly waited until she had gone to say in a low voice, “It’ll take capital, that’s fer sure. Ya need a ship, an’ a captain an’ crew crazy enough to attempt it.”
“I’ve been saving for a ship.” Dale shrugged. “That’s my backup plan. But if I could find other like-minded individuals, it’d be helpful.”
Belly snorted in agreement. “That it would.” Reaching for his coffee mug, he stared thoughtfully into its depths as though he expected to find an answer floating on its dark surface. “I’ll keep my ears open,” he said at last. “Let ya know if I learn of any such ventures croppin’ up.”
“Thank you.”
“Are ya scoutin’ around for potential crew yet?”
“Yes. I have a few candidates who might be interested.”
Belly snorted again. “Of course ya do.”
Dale tucked into his breakfast and talk turned to other matters. The two sailors caught up on the happenings of the last few months and exchanged interesting bits of information they had picked up along the way.
Before Belly stumped his way out of the pub, he turned shrewd eyes on Dale. “I just remembered somethin’. There was a ship lost to the Wild Sea three weeks ago.”
“I heard about it.”
“Well, what ya might not have heard is that there’s a rich merchant boy from Selendria wanderin’ around Port Ruby drinkin’ himself to death because his lady love was on that ship.”
Dale almost laughed. “I’ve heard that too. In fact, he’s here.” He jerked a thumb toward the stairs. “Met him last night and heard the whole sorry tale.”
Belly could not have looked more surprised than if Dale had hauled off and punched him. “I’ll be,” he muttered. “Ya get around, lad.” He pointed a finger at Dale. “Ya do realize he might be a good source of capital?”
Dale hesitated. “He’s not in good shape at the moment.”
“I’ll warrant he’s not.” With a bark of laughter, Belly left the pub.
~oOo~
AS soon as Dale finished eating breakfast, he departed as well. He had the bank to visit and a few trinkets to post to Gail for her birthday. While at the bank, he checked to see if his Uncle had sent him anything, but was not terribly surprised to find nothing. Dale did not expect to ever see the full amount his uncle owed him.
The bookstore was his next stop. He found a few books to add to his collection and then bought himself some fruit and a loaf of bread before heading down to the beach. It was a gorgeous day and he had some free time. A few hours on the beach with a good book sounded liked heaven.
In reality, Dale spent most of his time staring out at the gently-rolling waves. His book lay forgotten on his lap, relegated to the back of his mind while he ran through various scenarios and possibilities. A strange sense of urgency hummed through his veins; he wanted to set sail south on the Wild Sea now.
He could not explain it, but he knew this was what he was meant to do. The only trouble was finding a way to do it.
It’ll be years before I can afford a ship big enough to survive the trip, he thought, absently tossing an orange from hand to hand. That’s why it’d be nice to find somebody who already has a ship. Maybe Belly will find someone. He has feelers out everywhere; surely he’s bound to come up with something.
Toward evening, as the sun began to sink over the western horizon, Dale finally gathered up his things and headed back through Port Ruby to the Bonny Swan. He walked slowly, in no particular hurry. By the time he reached the pub, Mrs. Puca’s evening crowd was in full swing.
Searching for a place to sit, he wove his way around the sailors, dockhands, and working class men lined up along the bar and scattered among the tables. Looks like they’re full up.
At that moment, he heard someone call his name. “Dale Mortensen!”
Turning, Dale scanned the crowd for the source of the voice. When he found it, he had a hard time keeping the surprise from his face. Raphael was beckoning to him from a corner table. Guess he still remembers me from last night.
As Dale approached, Raphael kicked out the chair opposite him. “Join me, please.” An open wine bottle sat in the middle of the table, but from the looks of it, he had only just started on it. He waited until Dale had lowered himself into his chair before saying abruptly, “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” Dale looked at him, not sure what he was talking about.
Raphael leaned forward on the table. His dark eyes lacked the glassy look of someone who had imbibed too much alcohol; instead, they were all but snapping with energy. “Last night you said you want to sail south and discover why people disappear.”
“Basically.” Dale arched an eyebrow. “I figured you were too drunk last night to remember any of what I said.”
Raphael waved a hand. “You must pardon me. I was…not myself.” His face took on a determined cast. “I have been thinking about what you said.”
Ophelia appeared at their table, setting down Dale’s customary tankard of ale. He nodded his thanks to her and picked it up. “You’re going to have to be more specific.” He had said several things the night before.
“You asked me if I believe Elena still lives.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Upon reflection, I have concluded that I would know it here,” Raphael dramatically placed a hand over his heart, “if she had left the realm of the living.”
Lack of copious quantities of alcohol apparently made him wax even more eloquent than before; Dale would not have thought it possible.
“I wish to join your venture, Dale Mortensen,” he said earnestly.
“You do?” That had not taken nearly as long as Dale had thought it might.
“Yes.” Reaching for his wine glass, Raphael raised it in a toast. “We will sail the Wild Sea together, you and I, and we will discover what lies on the other side of the horizon.”
A weight Dale had not even realized was on his shoulders lifted. “I’m glad to hear it.” He raised his tankard in a salute.
After that, the two fell into amicable conversation. Having already told Dale a bit of his own history, Raphael inquired as to Dale’s.
“I’m an orphan,” said Dale simply.
Across the table, Raphael lifted a black eyebrow in his direction. “An orphan, eh? And what tragic tales lie in your past?”
“Well…” Dale rubbed the back of his neck. “Other than my family dying and my uncle embezzling the money he got from selling our property, I really can’t complain.”
“Really? How very interesting. No beatings or starvings or being locked away in an attic?”
“No.” Dale half-smiled, reaching for his freshly topped-off tankard. “Except for the time my cousin and I got caught coming back in the middle of the night.”
Both of Raphael’s eyebrows rose at this.
Knowing what he was thinking, Dale hastened to explain. He was glad the pub’s dim lighting hid the blush burning his cheeks. “We went swimming. It’d been a dreadfully hot day.” He grimaced at the memory. “Aunt Helena heard us come in—we weren’t quiet enough—and she woke Uncle Liev up.”
“Ah, yes.” Raphael nodded sagely. “Clearly, you must be burglars.”
“Clearly,” echoed Dale wryly. He looked down at the foamy head in his tankard. “At any rate, Uncle Liev met us on the stairs with the shotgun. I’m not sure who was more surprised—him or us.”
“But you survived.” Raphael raised his wine glass in a salute and downed a quarter of it. Setting it back down on the table with a gusty sigh of satisfaction, he said, “This lackluster orphan’s tale will do you no good. You need to throw in a little pain, a little suffering.” He flashed a white-toothed smile. “The ladies, they love it.”
It was Dale’s turn to lift his eyebrows. “Isn’t that the sort of thing that got you into this mess in the first place?”
Under ordinary circumstances, he would have kept that thought to himself. Two tankards of ale, however, had loosened his tongue.
The expression on Raphael’s brown face turned pensive. “You are correct, my friend.” His former mood of gaiety vanished, slipping away in the space between one heartbeat and the next. “It is hard, you see, to completely let go of habits one has cultivated for many years.”
“Sounds like she’s worth the effort though.”
Raphael sighed. “Indeed.” He drained the last of his wine and stared woefully into the bottom of the glass. “She must be alive out there. She must be.” He looked up sharply, dark eyes snapping with a sudden fire. “I will find her, Dale Mortensen. I will.”
“Yes,” agreed Dale gravely, “you will.”
In the meantime, there were plans to be made and good ale to be drunk.
Halfway through supper, a sudden thought occurred to Dale. “Do you know anything about sailing? Have you ever worked on a ship before?”
Raphael smiled wryly. “In the sense you mean? No. Remember, my father is a merchant.”
“That could be a problem.”
“I am sure there is something I could do aboard a ship.”
“Can’t think of anything off the top of my head. Other than maybe scrubbing the deck.” Dale expected Raphael to wrinkle his nose at that, but the other man surprised him by actually considering it.
“If it meant finding Elena,” he said thoughtfully, “there is much I would do. Including scrubbing decks,” he added.
Dale raised his tankard in a toast. “That’s good to know.”
By the end of the evening, the two were well on their way to becoming fast friends. Raphael was sharp-witted and much quicker on his mental feet than Dale, though this quality was tempered by the fact that his mouth often leapt ahead of his brain. That, he explained, was how he had made enemies of the burly sailor and his friends.
“He was smarter than I gave him credit for and knew how I had insulted him.” Raphael shrugged. “His conduct was hardly that of a gentleman, but in retaliating, neither was mine.”
“I’ve seen him around town, but he hasn’t come back here.” Dale grinned. “Mrs. Puca wouldn’t hesitate to sic the police on him.”
“No, she would not. A most admirable—and formidable—woman.” Raphael raised his glass in Mrs. Puca’s direction with a smile. He had slowed his alcohol consumption considerably; having a wee bit of hope to clutch seemed to have lessened his desire to drink himself to death.
Dale motioned to the pub around them. “How long will you be staying here?”
Raphael shrugged. “Indefinitely.” His expression turned wry. “I have been neglecting my duties, but for the last three weeks I have thought of nothing but Elena.” He brightened abruptly. “But now we have a plan.”
Throughout the rest of their meal, Dale marveled at the change in the other man. Raphael looked lighter and happier, and it was plainly noticeable. Ophelia, when she swept by to clear away dirty dishes, shot Dale a frankly disbelieving look. Buried beneath it, however, was admiration—and that made him both inflate with pride and grow hot under the collar.
Either that, he told himself, or she is just impressed Raphael managed to contain himself to one bottle of wine.
“You are right, Dale, about me lacking certain qualifications for a voyage such as this.” Raphael slapped a palm on the table. “I am sure I could learn as we go, but I prefer not to walk into situations blind.”
“Let me guess. You want to get a job as a deckhand?”
“Yes.”
Dale looked from Raphael to the table as he thought about it. “Wouldn’t be a bad thing,” he conceded at last.
“You see? I have good ideas.”
“It’s going to be a little different from the life you’re used to living.” That was probably the understatement of the decade, but who was Dale to tell him no?
Raphael flicked his fingers. “I know that already.”
A thought occurred to Dale, making him consider his new friend in a more serious light. “What about your father? Your family?”
Raphael smiled, though the skin around his eyes tightened. “When you are already the family disappointment, one more crazy venture does not signify.”
Dale sensed there was a great deal more to that story, but he let it drop. Not my place to pry. Besides, they had more pressing matters requiring attention. Namely, how Raphael was going to get a job in the first place. And how they would ever manage to get word to him in time, should an opportunity to sail south on the Wild Sea arise.
The two of them pondered that for a while. It was well after ten o’clock; soon Mrs. Puca would begin shooing non-boarders out for the night. Abruptly, Raphael snapped his fingers. “I have it! We will both secure berths aboard the same ship.”
It was a good idea. Dale had been considering that himself; Raphael just spit the words out faster. “I am between berths at the moment,” he admitted.
“Then it is settled.” Looking determined, Raphael held out a hand for Dale to shake.
Find out how this Young Adult steampunk adventure unfolds chapter-by-chapter every Thursday! Or if you want to keep reading right now, buy the ebook for $7.99 from Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Smashwords or Sony, or get it as a trade paperback from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Book Depository.
Copyright © 2013 E. R. Paskey