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
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
WHEN BELLY HAD NOT RETURNED BY THE end of the week, Dale could no longer lie to himself. Deep in his gut, he knew something was terribly wrong. Belly had poked his old nose into something he should have avoided, and it looked like it had cost him dearly.
The last two days of his shift were pure torture. Dale itched to be off the Platform, to be striding through the walkways and hanging bridges crisscrossing Rift City in search of the closest thing he had to a father. He did not want their last conversation to be one full of harsh words.
Please don’t be dead, Belly. Please.
Dale almost considered asking Raphael to tell him where Belly had been going lately, but he dismissed the notion as soon as it filtered into his brain. He and Raphael were still not on speaking terms. Besides, Dale knew very well that the bulk of his friend’s free time revolved around Elena. He probably doesn’t know anything anyway.
Another gut feeling told Dale Belly’s Disappearance—if that was indeed what had happened to him—and his interest in Peabody were linked, but he refused to entertain the idea. Not going there. At least not until all of his other options had been exhausted.
Dale was thus the first one off the Platform that morning, beating even Raphael to the Rail.
“Morning, Charles.”
Charles looked up at him in slight surprise. “You’re here early.”
Dale nodded and stepped out of the way to allow other early birds to leave the Rail Station and go on their way. When they were alone again, he turned back to Charles. “You haven’t seen Belly lately, have you?”
Something flickered through Charles’s eyes before he frowned. “No. Not since his last furlough started.”
Dale had been afraid of that. “You’re sure?”
“Reasonably sure.” Charles lifted one uniformed shoulder in a shrug. “It’s possible he came back while I was on a lunch break, but he doesn’t usually do that.” He looked up at Dale. “Why?”
“Because he’s missing,” said Dale bluntly. “Nobody’s seen him since he went on leave.”
A little of the color drained from Charles’s face and he swallowed unsteadily.
Recognizing the signs, Dale shook his head in exasperation. “Not you, too.”
Charles stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. You think he’s Disappeared, don’t you?”
“You don’t?”
Dale chose his next words carefully. “I think there’s a distinct possibility that my old friend had too good a time at a pub and got himself locked up for a few days or something.” He expected the color to come back to the younger man’s face, but if anything, Charles grew paler. “What?”
“They—they tell the foreman if a man is locked up. It’s an infraction; goes on his permanent record and they dock his pay.” One of the boy’s hands clenched into a fist. “Somebody would have heard about it if Belly’d been locked up.”
Dale left the Rail Station feeling as though all the wind had been knocked out of him. Now what am I supposed to do? Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he concluded the only thing he could do was make inquiries.
Over the course of the next few days, he poked around Rift City as best he could, but found himself running up against solid brick walls at every turn. Those brick walls went by several names: Ignorance, Fear, and the Revolution. Clearly, a large percentage of the population was disinclined to discuss Disappearances in anything but a hushed whisper—if they said a word at all. Another percentage simply pointed Dale in the Revolution’s direction.
The Revolution was not so much a brick wall as it was a dark, dangerous path—which Dale steadfastly refused to take. The potentially dangerous aspect of it did not bother him as much as the certainty they would be of no help.
But, time ticked inexorably by, and Dale knew his chances of finding Belly—alive—were slipping through his fingers like sea water. None of the Disappeared were ever heard from again; they simply vanished like mist under a hot sun. It was strange and eerie and inexplicably irrational, but he knew it must have a logical explanation.
Everything has a logical explanation.
~oOo~
THURSDAY evening, having found nothing that might help deduce Belly’s whereabouts, Dale made his way to the University for his language class. As he took his seat and frowned down at his language book, he wondered if Raphael was carrying on his own investigation—and if he had found anything. Might have to risk a lecture on Peabody and ask him.
It was only when Hodges took his place at the head of the classroom and began his lecture that Dale realized Naya was missing. He blinked at her empty chair. She’s late.
Naya was never late.
Concerned, he listened to Hodges with half an ear while his other ear strained for the sound of the door opening. His heartbeat quickened when the door creaked open and light footsteps hurried down the aisle toward him. Seconds later, Naya dropped into her seat beside him and his heartbeat evened back out in relief.
Sneaking half-glances at her out of the corner of his eye, Dale had to suppress a frown. Though Naya hid it well, he knew her well enough to see that beneath her calm, slightly apologetic demeanor, something had shaken her. He wanted to ask what was wrong.
He would have done it, too, had she not slipped him a sealed letter under the pretense of spreading her book and papers out before her.
Curious, Dale glanced down at it. His name had been written across the letter’s front in neat—if hasty—script. He tilted a questioning eyebrow at Naya; she only twitched her shoulders in a minute shrug and refused to meet his eyes. Her dark skin, however, had not lost that bloodless quality.
When he made to open the letter, she shook her head at him.
“Something the matter, Miss Naya?” asked Hodges from the front of the class.
Naya’s head snapped up and her cheeks darkened when she realized everyone was looking at her. Clearing her throat, she nodded to her book. “I’m having trouble conjugating this verb, Professor. It doesn’t look right.”
Dale only succeeded in keeping the swell of admiration he felt for her quick recovery from showing on his face by bowing his head and focusing on his own book. As an afterthought, he slid the letter into the back of his book.
“Ah, well, let’s have a look at it, shall we?” Hodges sailed on with the lesson, seamlessly weaving Naya’s fabrication into his own narrative.
It was some time before either of them dared to catch each other’s eye, but when Dale did, he gave Naya a small smile. Well done.
He was supremely satisfied to see her cheeks darken with a blush again.
~oOo~
THE letter stayed tucked in the back of his book for the rest of the class. When Hodges finally dismissed them, Dale waited for the bulk of his classmates to stream toward the exit before extracting the letter. Before he broke the seal, however, he glanced at Naya. “How did you come by this?”
Naya caught her lower lip between her teeth and folded her arms tightly across her chest. She darted a quick, almost nervous look around them before leaning a little closer to him and dropping her voice. “Elena Mountebank. Your friend’s lady?”
Elena? Dale frowned. He could think of few reasons why Elena would be writing him.
“Something’s frightened her,” continued Naya. “She pulled me aside in the hall, asked if I was your friend. When I said yes, she slipped me the letter and begged me to give it to you.”
“Begged?” asked Dale teasingly.
Naya was not amused. Her eyebrows knit together in a worried frown; she dropped one of her arms to motion to the letter. “Read it, Dale. She was so frightened.”
He looked at her sharply, arrested by her use of his given name for the first time, but directed his attention to the letter.
A scant moment later, the letter was crushed in his fist and he was gripping the nearest desk for balance.
“What’s wrong?” Alarmed, Naya stepped closer to rest a hand on his arm—even she could not easily reach his shoulder. “Dale, whatever’s the matter?”
It took a supreme effort to force his vocal chords to produce audible sounds. “It’s Raphael. She thinks he’s—he’s Disappeared.”
Naya jerked backward a step. Her dark eyes had gone impossibly wide. “What?”
Dale curled his fingers tighter around the crumpled letter, but did not feel the edges of the paper cut into his skin. Elena’s words were as hastily written as his name across the letter’s front, full of urgency and fear.
Raphael was gone.
Just like Belly.
Taking a deep breath, Dale unclenched his hand and forced himself to reread the letter. Naya peered at it over his elbow.
Dear Mr. Mortensen,
I am very sorry to bother you, but I need your help. I know not where else to turn.
Raphael is missing. Here Elena’s pen wavered. I loathe to write the words, but I fear he has Disappeared.
I know you and he have had a falling out over these last few months—he has never relayed any particulars on this front, rest assured—but he still speaks often of you as his true friend and brother in spirit. Please, Mr. Mortensen, please help me. Something is dreadfully, terribly wrong—I feel it in my bones.
Since his release from the Hospital, Raphael has not failed to visit or send me a letter once a week. He has been faithful—the best man I know—and only some horrible occurrence can have prevented him from coming to see me this week. I do not know if he has told you yet, but we are engaged and will be married in a month or two.
Raphael usually comes to see me as soon as he is back in Rift City. This week, I have not heard from him at all. Elena had underlined the words heavily. My father thinks he might have been detained on the Platform, but I know if that had been the case he would have written me.
My heart is full of fear. Her pen wavered again. People Disappear in this city, Mr. Mortensen. They vanish inexplicably and are never seen or heard from again. No one knows why. No one knows what happens to them.
I could not bear it if this has happened to Raphael as well. Please tell me you have seen him. Tell me it is not as I fear. If you cannot—the word was smudged; a tear had fallen on the paper and smeared the ink, —then, please, Mr. Mortensen, please find him. Find him before it is too late.
You might start at the Gold Pearl, his favorite pub. He has made some friends there; they may know something.
Sincerely,
Elena Mountebank
“Is everything all right?”
Dale and Naya both turned to find Professor Hodges approaching them, looking concerned.
“He’s had some bad news.” Naya tipped her dark head toward Dale. She would not say more.
Dale swallowed a hard lump in his throat as Hodges turned curious eyes on him. His fingers tightened on the letter again. He was unsure how much to say—he realized now he had been slow to grasp what Belly and Raphael had both picked up so quickly, namely that certain people in Rift City could not be trusted. He swallowed again, but his voice still emerged sounding rough. “I’ve just had word that my friend may have Disappeared.”
Hodges’s dark eyes widened in shock before his face folded in on itself, making him look far older than his years. “I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Mortensen. I wish I could say it is not an uncommon occurrence.”
“Does no one know what happens to them? Or why?” Helplessly, Dale shook his head. “People can’t just vanish into thin air with nobody the wiser for where they went. Where I come from, it means somebody’s been tossed in a river, or into the ocean out at sea. Murder.”
“Murder?” repeated Hodges weakly. He looked stunned, as though the thought had never before occurred to him.
“Yes,” said Dale hotly. “Murder.”
Naya had gone very pale and was swaying slightly on her feet. One dark brown hand came to rest at her temple; she squinted her eyes as though her head was about to split in two.
Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Dale turned just in time to slide an arm around her as she crumpled to the floor. “Naya!” he cried in alarm, forgetting in his panic to put a ‘Miss’ in front of it. “Are you all right?”
Naya did not speak for a moment; she buried her face in his chest, one hand tightly grasping the front of his shirt. Her tall frame trembled; her shoulders rose and fell as she dragged in deep, gasping breaths.
Professor Hodges fluttered around them, quite out of his depth and unsure as to what he ought to do. “Haven’t much experience with fainting ladies,” he said apologetically. “Can’t say I encounter many of them.”
Dale did not answer; he merely continued to smooth one large hand in soothing circles across Naya’s back. The gesture came instinctively; he recalled his aunt holding him in a similar fashion on many occasions after he had gone to live in Falconcrest.
Something stirred in his chest as he held the girl he loved; he recognized her reaction. This went beyond fright at learning someone else in Rift City might have disappeared. She’s remembering something, Dale thought grimly. Naya’s shoulders continued to shake and he amended that thought. Or maybe trying very hard not to remember something.
“I’m sorry,” mumbled Naya into his shirtfront after a moment. “I don’t know—” her voice hitched, “—what’s come over me.”
“The things that happen in this city,” said Professor Hodges, his voice uncharacteristically dark, “are enough to frighten any sane person with a modicum of sense. Can I offer you a glass of water, Miss Azlynn?”
Shaking her head, Naya reluctantly pulled away from Dale. Her dark cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “I’m really dreadfully sorry, Mr. Mortensen, Professor.”
“It’s all right,” Dale assured her. He cast a sideways glance at Hodges. If the professor had not been in the room, he might have gone ahead and asked her what had upset her. As it was, he feared that was entirely too personal a question to ask with an audience.
Standing, he helped Naya to her feet. “Let me walk you home, Miss Naya.”
Something flickered across her features before she shook her head. “I’ll manage. You don’t have time for that.”
Dale’s heart clenched in his chest at the thought of her traveling through Rift City by herself. “Naya—” he began, once more forgetting the honorific that should have preceded her name.
Both of them forgot about Hodges as Naya caught one of his hands in both of hers and stared earnestly up into his frowning face. “I will be fine, Dale. I have been managing for years before you came through the Rift and washed up on shore.” She tempered this with a small smile. “You must go. Your friend needs you.” She swallowed. “It’s true that no one who Disappears is ever seen again, but I believe that if anybody could find them, it would be you.”
Her words floated into his ears and settled in his heart. Dale felt his chest grow tight. Her faith in him simultaneously humbled him and stirred him to action.
They continued to stare at each other, holding a longer conversation with only their eyes, until the sound of a throat being cleared brought them both back to their surroundings. Naya smiled shyly and let go of Dale’s hand. They then both turned to the young professor, who looked rather bemused.
“I’ll see that Miss Naya reaches her home safely,” said Hodges unexpectedly.
A tremendous weight lifted off of Dale’s shoulders; a weight he had hardly realized was there until it ceased to exist. “Thank you.” Throat tight, he stepped forward to pump Hodges’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Godspeed, Mr. Mortensen. I hope you find him.”
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