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 $6.99 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
TWENTY-THREE
MOVING MADE HIM FEEL LESS LIKE THE walls were closing in over his head and curbed the vague sick feeling curling in the pit of his stomach. Dale worked his way over to a lift queue and descended down to Level 1. Hopefully there’s a deck on this side of the river too. If only he could figure out how to get to it.
Paying no mind to the strange looks he was garnering, Dale began searching the alleys in that direction for an opening that would hopefully lead outside. His heart hammered in his chest; his stomach churned. I need to get out.
“Oof!” Dale turned the corner and ran smack-dab into someone coming the other way. Packages flew everywhere; the other person went sprawling with a feminine sound of distress.
Dale looked down to find a young woman glaring up at him from her position on the cobblestoned street and his eyes widened in horror. “I beg your pardon, Miss!” he exclaimed, hastily reaching to help her to her feet. As soon as she was standing, he set about gathering up her packages. “I didn’t mean to knock you down.” The tips of his ears turned bright red in embarrassment.
He turned back to her, his arms full of her packages, to find her studying him with wide brown eyes. She was taller than the average woman, with cocoa skin and a riot of curly black hair standing out from her head in a halo, tamed only by a rusty-orange bandana the same color as her skirt. She wore a half-corset over a full brown blouse—one sleeve of which was torn and blooming red with blood from a skinned elbow.
Guilt stabbed him sharply; he grimaced. “You’re bleeding. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Juggling her packages and tucking them under one arm, he pulled out his handkerchief and motioned to her arm. “May I?”
Bemused, the young woman looked down at her sleeve before pushing it up and motioning for him to give her the packages. She tucked them against her body with her free arm so he could bandage her injury. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” she asked dryly, in a pleasant alto.
“Is it that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so.”
His ears burned red again. Dale tied the makeshift bandage around her elbow and stepped back. “You’re all set, Miss.”
“Thank you.” She flexed her arm experimentally and smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of things here.” Her brown eyes glinted with a spark of humor. “Including the proper way to turn corners.”
Dale blushed. “That would probably be a good thing.”
“Well, thank you for patching me up.” The young woman dipped him a curtsy and turned to leave. “Welcome to Rift City.”
Her presence had momentarily driven his need for fresh air right out of his head, but as soon as she departed, it returned with a vengeance. Dale immediately resumed his search for a way out onto the river. Two streets away, he found an alley that culminated in a heavily-barred door. A spurt of mingled adrenaline and relief pushed him down the dim, narrow alley. Fumbling with the bars, he opened the door and stepped out into open air.
He did not see the figure coming down the alley after him.
Closing his eyes, Dale inhaled deeply. He felt only the barest whisper of wind out here, but the air was cleaner, fresher. His heartbeat slowed as the claustrophobic panic he had experienced began to recede. He left the door open as he ventured farther out on the deck; the last thing he needed at the moment was to accidentally lock himself outside.
If that happened, he had a sinking suspicion that it would be a while before anyone found him. The deck’s wood was weathered gray, as though it had been built and promptly forgotten. He looked around for some means of actually getting down to the water, but found nothing. No stairs, no ladder, not even a rope.
In fact, now that he had a chance to actually look at everything along the riverbank, Dale realized that even the walkways connecting the buildings on both sides of the river were heavily fortified. Deeply puzzled, he limped over to the thick, heavy railing and rested his weight on it, staring out at the river’s surface. It’s like they don’t want to have anything to do with any water, regardless of how far from the sea and the Streamers it is.
The water was a much brighter, bolder blue than he had realized from above; it surprised him, considering the stormy grays, blues, and greens that seemed so prevalent here. Raindrops turned its shining surface into a beautiful pattern of cascading circles rippling outward. Little eddies along the riverbank told him how quickly the current was moving.
Dale felt a measure of peace wash over him. It’s not the sea, but it’s not bad. He glanced up and down the river and frowned. You’d think there’d be more people out here, if there are as many sailors in this district as Riley says there are.
He glimpsed a shadow in the water out of the corner of his eye, and his frown deepened with interest. Leaning further over the railing, he squinted down at the river. What is that? If it was a fish, it was one of the biggest fish he had ever seen in his life.
“What in the name of all that’s holy do you think you’re doing?”
The voice—female and slightly familiar—jarred Dale out of his thoughts. Startled, he jerked upright and looked up and down the deck. Is she talking to me? She must be; he was the only person out here.
Slowly, Dale turned around—and his eyes widened in surprise.
The young woman he had knocked down was glaring at him from the door, her arms still full of packages and her eyes full of mingled fear and anger. “Yes, I’m talking to you!” she snapped. “Don’t stand there like a lump on a log—get back here!”
Dale’s eyebrows shot up into his hair. “A lump on a log?”
“Get away before one of them sees you!” she hissed.
Bemused, Dale looked from her to the empty deck around him. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Her nostrils flared in real fear; she seemed terrified to leave the relative protection of the open door. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to go anywhere near the water?”
“I thought that was the shoreline,” replied Dale, but he began to move away from the railing. Her face was so bloodless he was afraid she was going to pass out right then and there.
“No, it’s not!” She stamped a foot. “It’s rivers and streams too—anything big enough for one of them to hide in!” She was so angry—or so frightened, Dale could not quite tell—that she was actually trembling from head to foot. “Now get over here, right now!”
Eyebrows still raised, Dale complied. Casting one last longing look at the river, he moved back over to the door. He stepped back into the alley, brushing past the young woman in the process, and she immediately let the door swing shut.
“Please bolt it, if you would,” she said, clutching her packages.
Dale did so.
As soon as the lock was secured, the young woman drew herself up to her full height and regarded him through narrowed eyes. “I realize you’re relatively new, but didn’t you listen to what they told you? Don’t go near the water. Never go near the water.”
“I thought they meant the ocean,” protested Dale.
She shook her head violently. “Any water.”
He stared at her. That…puts an entirely different perspective on things. His heart sank in his chest as the half-spun dreams he’d briefly entertained of spending his free time out on the deck dissolved into dust.
His thoughts must have shown on his face, because her hard expression softened. “Look, you’ll get used to the city eventually. Everybody does. Just…stay away from the water.” A shudder ran through her. “It’s safer that way.”
“Err, right.” Dale did not quite know what to say to that. He shifted awkwardly on his feet and then, struck by a sudden impulse, extended a hand to her. “I’m Dale Mortensen.”
It was her turn to be caught off-guard. She blinked at him, her eyes dropping to his outstretched hand. “I beg your pardon?”
Dale repeated his name.
Her dark eyes widened a little, before she ducked her head and juggled the packages in her arms to free a hand. “Naya Azlynn.”
They solemnly shook hands and then the reality of their situation—standing in a dim alley together—struck them both at the same time. Dale’s palms began to sweat; his heart started pounding in his chest. He did not know what to say or do.
Naya took a step back, toward the alley opening. “Well, Mr. Mortensen, just…stay away from the water, all right?” Her eyes flicked toward the door; another fine tremor ran through her body. “It’s dangerous. Trust me.”
Dale wanted to ask her to explain, but she was already walking away. He struggled to find words. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Azlynn,” he called after her, just as she turned the corner and disappeared out onto the street.
She did not reply. She must not have heard me. Dale did not know why, but that sent a small jolt of disappointment coursing through him. His shoulders slumped; he jammed his hands into his pockets and ventured out of the alley. He looked left and right, but Naya had vanished into the crowd.
Well, at least I have a name. Maybe I can find her again.
It did not hit him until he was in a Rail car halfway to East Middlesedge that the only way Naya would have known to stop him was because she had looked back after their initial encounter and seen him heading toward the alley.
~oOo~
YURIKO was a tiny wisp of a woman with a gentle smile, a spine of steel, and the loveliest almond eyes Dale had ever seen. Her shop was a larger establishment than Dale expected, but his head still nearly brushed the ceiling when he stepped inside. She took one look at him and glided over before one of her shop girls could say anything.
“Can I help you, young man?” It did not seem to bother her in the least that she had to crane her neck to look up at him.
Dale almost hunched his shoulders, but stopped himself when her lovely eyes narrowed slightly in disapproval. “Miss Yuriko?” He swallowed. “My name is Dale Mortensen. Alma sent me.”
“Ah, yes.” Yuriko looked him up and down and then twirled her finger, motioning for him to turn in a circle. “You are a New Arrival.”
“Yes.” Dale was pretty sure that much was obvious. Her scrutiny—and the whispers of the shop girls in the background—turned the tips of his ears pink.
Yuriko cast a stern look over her shoulder and the whispers ceased. Producing a tape measure from a small bag hanging from her waist by a brass chain, she herded Dale off to one side and began measuring him. “You would think the Committee would be able to provide newcomers with at least one set of clothes that fit properly, but no. They do not think of these things.” She stepped back. “Kneel, please.”
He obediently dropped to one knee. In this state, he and Yuriko were the same height.
“You have trouble finding clothes, yes?”
Dale nodded. He had not been able to wear ready-made clothes in years. “I’m a sailor most of the time, so it doesn’t matter if I roll them up because they’re too short.”
Yuriko nodded wisely. “But here, there is no sea.”
A pang of loss shot through him. “No.”
To distract himself while Yuriko bustled around him, Dale looked around her shop. Bolts of muted, as well as brightly colored fabrics lined one wall, with more of them laid out in a window display beneath two mannequins wearing a lady’s dress and a gentleman’s suit. There was one other customer at the moment, a careworn woman negotiating for a new dress of plain blue fabric while casting wistful glances at an emerald silk.
“When do you start work?” Yuriko asked abruptly, drawing Dale’s attention back to herself.
“Tomorrow.”
She nodded briskly. “And where will you be working?”
“The Mining District.”
“Pah.” She made a face. “You will need more clothes. The mines, they destroy clothing.”
“I don’t know what they’ll have me doing,” confessed Dale, but when she merely looked at him, he thought he knew the answer. Unless his mechanical skills were vital, there was really only one answer and it involved hard labor.
Yuriko patted his shoulder. “You may stand now.”
“Miss Yuriko,” began Dale awkwardly, “may I ask how much this is going to cost?”
The tiny woman gave him another considering glance. “Alma Pinning sends New Arrivals to me because I give most of them a discount on their first set of clothes. Yours, because of inherent fabric requirements, will cost more than usual.”
Dale had steeled himself for that and nodded.
“But…” Yuriko drew the word out and then smiled. “I have a proposal for you, Mr. Mortensen. Yours is indeed a special case.” She waved a hand. “Virtually everything you need will have to be specially-made. If you will serve as a walking advertisement for my shop and tell people where you had your clothes made when they ask, I will give you a fifteen percent discount on everything you purchase from me.”
It was more than Dale could have hoped for. “Yes,” he said at once. “I would be honored.”
“Very well then.” Yuriko dipped her head in a nod. “For now, I think, you require work clothes. Come back in a few hours.”
“Thank you.” Dale took her hand and pressed it carefully between his own. His larger hands completely engulfed hers. He then reached into his pocket. “Do I pay you now or later?”
They settled on a price for two sets of work clothes, the second of which would be completed the next day, and Dale departed, feeling lighter and more optimistic than he had when he walked inside. He found a shop in which he could replace the few toiletries and things he had lost in the shipwreck and then walked back, taking his time.
Now that the shock had begun to wear off, Dale started to absorb more of his surroundings. The streets were busier now than they had been earlier; he suspected a shift had just been let off. This gave him the opportunity to study a wider range of the citizens living in this strange new city.
Technology and the slight difference in clothing materials aside, they did not look much different from the people in his world. That struck him as rather odd, given the fact that they were on another world, but he reasoned that there must be more ships getting sucked into the Rift than anyone realized.
It was nearly closing time when he returned to Yuriko’s shop. One of her shop girls handed him a wrapped package and sent him off with a relieved smile. Dale set off again at a faster pace—he had just enough time to get back to Mrs. Yunker’s for supper.
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 $6.99 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