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-EIGHT
THE ARMORY WAS A SMALLER ROOM THAN Dale expected, but heavily barred. After a brief discussion with the two men on duty, Hawk received two six-shot revolvers and two pouches of ammunition. Turning to Dale, he asked, “You do know how to shoot, don’t you?”
Dale nodded.
“Good.” Hawk handed Dale a revolver and an ammunition pouch. “These are a little different than what you’re used to, but don’t worry—they work the same way.”
Dale turned the revolver over in his hands. Aside from the fact that it appeared to be made from brass, it was really no different from the pistols he had lost when the Infinity went down. The shocker, however, was the ammunition.
“What are these?” he asked in bewilderment, staring at the glassy bullets he had tipped out in his palm.
“They’re made of glitterglass.” Hawk loaded six bullets into his revolver and shoved it into his pocket.
It had never even occurred to Dale that such a thing was possible. “Why?”
Hawk shrugged. “Somebody invented them before they found the copper deposit. Makes sense. We don’t have gunpowder this side of the Rift, and we’ve got more glitter-oil than metal, even brass.”
No gunpowder? Dale stared at Hawk. “How do they fire, if there’s no gunpowder?”
Hawk grinned. “Drop of draya oil on the primer. Works like a charm.” He nodded to the pistol in Dale’s hands. “Try not to lose that. Pistols are blasted hard to come by.”
Shaking his head, Dale proceeded to load his revolver and stow it in his pocket. As soon as he finished, they departed Headquarters. This time around, no one tried to stop them. Dale’s heart beat faster and faster at the thought of being back in relatively open air once more.
The second they emerged on the boulevard level in West Middlesedge, Dale sucked in a lungful of cool, damp air. True, it was tinged with smoke and all of the other various scents he had come to associate with Rift City—some, indeed, belonged to any city, regardless of its location—but it seemed much fresher than the air he had been breathing down in Headquarters. He stood a little taller, no longer afraid of constantly banging his head against ceilings that were far too low for a man of his size.
“Where did he say he wanted to meet?” asked Hawk.
“He didn’t.” Dale glanced left and right along the walkway and set off toward the closest hanging bridge.
“Then where are we going?”
Dale looked over his shoulder with a grim smile. “We’re going to take a few turns to throw anybody off our track, and then we’re going to see Elena.”
“Elena?” Hawk looked surprised. “I thought you were going to say—”
“Naya?” Dale shook his head. “Too risky. They’re probably keeping an eye on her and her grandmother. But Elena? They made Raphael Disappear—They won’t be expecting anybody to help her.”
“You don’t know that for certain, Mortensen.”
“No.” They threaded their way through a group of people coming in and out of a shop and Dale fell silent. As soon as they were past, he finished, “But Corwin cares for Elena, which means he’ll be close.”
“His father’s people might be close too,” grumbled Hawk.
Dale ignored this. It’s a chance we’ll just have to take.
Especially since Corwin had not actually mentioned how Dale was supposed to reach him.
~oOo~
IT took some time to work their way across Rift City to the small flat Elena and her father shared in East Middlesedge, but Dale and Hawk were both confident they had arrived without drawing any attention. They paused to examine the walkway for possible lookouts, but found nothing out of the ordinary. If anyone had been stationed to keep an eye on Elena and her father, they would have to be in one of the houses lining this level or the next.
As he approached the front door and raised a hand to knock, Dale suddenly remembered Raphael telling him about Elena’s job at a clothing store. A wave of dismay threatened to crash over him. She might not even be home.
He knocked anyway.
To his everlasting relief, he heard quick footsteps on the other side of the door. A small voice asked, “Who is it?”
Dale glanced at Hawk, who looked side to side around them before shrugging. “Miss Elena? It’s Dale Mortensen.”
They heard the sound of a lock turning and then the door flew open to reveal Elena. “Mr. Mortensen!” She was dressed in dark gray, and her nose was red. Her eyes immediately flew to Hawk and she froze.
“This is my friend,” Dale hastened to explain. “May we come in?”
“Yes.” Elena gave a little start and beckoned them inside. “Come in, quickly.”
As soon as Hawk slipped through the doorway, she shut the door and locked it again. Then she turned and craned her head to look up Dale, wringing her hands together. “I was afraid you’d Disappeared too, Mr. Mortensen.”
Dale shook his head. “I…had some friends watching out for me.”
Elena nodded. “That’s…good.” She took a sudden breath and pinched her lips together fiercely for a few heartbeats before offering the two men a shaky smile. “I’ve promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore.” Blinking rapidly, she waved a hand in the direction of the next room. “Tea?”
Dale could almost see his Aunt Helen standing behind Elena, flapping her hands at him. “Yes, please.”
Elena visibly brightened at the idea of having something to do with herself and bustled off into the kitchen. Hawk shot Dale a slightly incredulous look, which he countered with a shrug of his broad shoulders. If giving them tea made Elena feel better, it was the least he could do for her.
While Elena put the kettle on, Dale looked around the Mountebanks’ home. It was indeed quite small, but cozy. Elena had made the sitting room look as cheerful as she could to counteract the constant gray skies and rain, but the curtains were now drawn and the room was dim.
Hawk shifted uneasily on his feet. “Are you sure about this?” he muttered. “We’re sitting ducks the longer we stay here.”
“Not if nobody knows we’re here.”
“You’d better come in here,” called Elena from the kitchen. “And I’d keep away from the windows.”
Dale moved to join her in the kitchen and Hawk followed. Both of them stopped short in surprise, staring at the kitchen table—which was piled high with stacks of cookies, loaves of bread, and other assorted baked goods.
Hawk turned to her with raised eyebrows. “Are you expecting an invasion?”
Elena blushed and waved a hand for them to take a seat. “I haven’t quite known what to do with myself the last few days and baking makes me feel better.” She shook her head ruefully. “The problem is that I now have more baked goods than I know what to do with.”
“What about your job at the clothing store?”
“I’ve taken a few days’ leave.” Misery settled over Elena’s expression, before she forced a smile. “They did not want me there anyway—my mind has been…elsewhere.” Clasping her hands again, she turned a pleading expression on Dale. “Have you learned anything? Found anything? Is there any trace of Raphael?” She swallowed. “Any hope that he might be found?”
Hawk suddenly found the cookie in his hand extremely fascinating.
Dale felt as though he had swallowed dry sand, but he cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I haven’t much news to report, Miss Elena.”
Tears sprang to her green eyes; she ducked her head while she attempted to master her expression. In a slightly choked voice, she asked, “Why have you come, then?”
Dale rocked back in his seat, taken aback. She doesn’t know. He looked at Hawk, who shrugged, before turning his attention back to Elena. “Corwin Hamper sent a message to me through Naya—Miss Azlynn—to say he wanted to talk to me.”
“Corwin sent for you?” Elena jolted, looking astonished.
“Aye,” broke in Hawk. “Can you get a message to him?”
“I—” Elena looked blank; she was obviously reeling from the shock. “I…suppose I can.” Her brows abruptly knit together. “But why in the world would he contact you, Mr. Mortensen? You are Raphael’s friend…” She trailed off.
“That’s exactly why, Miss Elena,” said Dale quietly. “Because I am Raphael’s friend, even if we haven’t been on the best of terms lately, and Hamper knows you’ve been beside yourself with Raph’s—” He could not bring himself to finish.
Elena’s eyes brimmed with tears again, this time for a completely different reason. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. “Corwin’s a good man,” she said when she could form words again. “Any girl would be lucky to have him as a husband. But my heart—” she shook her head, “my heart will always belong to Raphael, and he knows it.”
“Can you get a message to him?” asked Hawk awkwardly.
Elena nodded, dashing a few tears away. “I can. I’ll write him a note now and pay the boy across the street to deliver it for me.”
“Don’t say anything about us,” cautioned Dale. “Just tell him you wish to see him.” He glanced at Hawk, who nodded. “He should understand.”
The kettle began to whistle. Rising from the table, Elena made tea and handed teacups round before swishing off to pen a note to Corwin Hamper.
She returned less than five minutes later, clutching a signed and sealed little note in one hand, and her hat in the other. She set the hat on her head and scooped up a handful of cookies. She then hastened out the front door.
Dale stared into his tea, listening for the sound of her return. When the front door opened again, he and Hawk both tensed, but Elena called out, “It’s only me,” and locked the door behind her.
She returned to the kitchen and resumed her seat. “I would imagine it may be an hour or so before he can break away. You are more than welcome to stay here.”
That was good, Dale thought, because neither he nor Hawk was planning on leaving.
“So tell me, Mr. Mortensen.” Elena fixed him with a sharp look. “Why are rumors of your Disappearance winging their way through Rift City?”
Caught slightly off-guard, Dale stared at her with wide eyes. He had hoped—nay, expected—her to remain fixated on Raphael’s Disappearance. “I—I—well, that is to say—”
“He up and announced he was looking for the Revolution to an entire pub,” said Hawk flatly. “After that, we had to get him out of there for his own good.”
Elena raised her eyebrows at Dale in surprise. “Oh, my.”
A brick red flush started at his neck and worked its way up his face, culminating in the tips of his ears. He hunched his shoulders. “It seemed a good idea at the time.”
“That sounds like something Raph would do,” said Elena wistfully. “I can see it now.” She shook her head, sending lamplight reflecting off of her red hair.
Dale only nodded, his face still a solid red color.
“I was afraid something would happen to him,” said Elena quietly, staring into her teacup. Her fingers trembled; she set her cup down onto the saucer and clasped her hands in her lap. “He was convinced the dirigible would be our ticket home, if he could only find it.”
Hawk stirred in alarm. “Did he tell you anything about it? Or the—” he abruptly cut himself off, as though realizing he was about to reveal far too much.
“The Revolution, you mean?” Elena pinned him and then Dale with a cool green stare. “I knew he was involved, though I must admit I didn’t realize to what extent until the last few days.”
“Did he say much about it?” asked Dale, genuinely curious.
Elena shook her head. “He was very discreet—which, for Raphael, really means something.” A small smile curved her pretty lips before it faded away. “But that is why as soon as I failed to hear from him, I was afraid something had happened.”
It made sense. Dale opened his mouth to say something else, but a rapid knock on the door stole the breath right out of his lungs. He, Hawk, and Elena all exchanged startled glances.
“Are you expecting someone else?” asked Hawk in an undertone.
“Just Corwin,” replied Elena, equally softly.
Dale looked at her. “When does your father return?”
“Not until later. And he has a key.”
The pounding on the door continued.
Rising from her chair, Elena swept out of the kitchen to the front door. “Who is it?” she called out.
“Corwin Hamper,” answered a man’s voice.
This is it. As silently as he could, Dale escaped from his chair and rose to his feet. Hawk did the same.
Elena opened the front door. “Mr. Hamper,” she said gravely. “Thank you for coming.” She paused a beat. “Although I must confess you have arrived a great deal faster than I expected.”
“My apologies, Elena, but I came as soon as I received your note. Are you well?”
“I am…as well as can be expected. Nothing—nothing has changed on that front.”
Even from the kitchen, hovering just out of sight, Dale could tell that Elena sounded torn. He understood—as far as Corwin Hamper knew, Elena was home by herself, and propriety had very clear things to say about that.
“May I come in?”
Another pause, and then Elena sighed. “You’d probably better.”
If Hamper hesitated, he did not hesitate long. Just a few seconds elapsed before Dale and Hawk heard the sound of the front door shutting once more.
“Won’t you have a seat?” asked Elena.
“You’ll pardon me for asking, Miss Elena, but are you quite alone here?”
Hawk suppressed something that might have been a snicker; Dale rolled his eyes.
Elena’s face must have registered surprise, because Corwin hastened to clarify, and, in doing so, tripped all over his own words. “I apologize—I know that is a very forward thing to ask, but the thing is—” He stopped and started again. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with your fiancé’s friend, Dale Mortensen.”
Dale took that as his cue to exit the kitchen; Hawk moved to flank him. “I received your message,” he said boldly.
Surprise flashed across Corwin’s bearded face, followed quickly by relief. “You haven’t Disappeared, then.”
“All rumors to the contrary aside.” Dale inclined his head.
Compared to someone like Raphael, Corwin would be considered quite tall. Indeed, he had an inch or two on Hawk. But compared to Dale, everyone was short—it just varied as to what degree. He was a sturdy individual with blond hair and ruddy cheeks; Dale could well believe he helped rescue shipwrecked New Arrivals. His clothes were very fine by Rift City standards, though he seemed unconscious of said fact. He held his hat in one hand.
In three strides, Corwin crossed the room and held out his hand to Dale. “Corwin Hamper.”
“Dale Mortensen.”
They shook and Corwin looked at Hawk. “I was not expecting you to bring a friend.”
“The more, the merrier,” said Hawk stiffly. He did not introduce himself.
“Er…right.” Corwin shifted back to Dale. “Quite clever of you, passing a message along via Elena. I was hoping she would have some news of you when I arrived.”
“Corwin, what is this all about?” Elena had not moved from her spot by the door; she had instead drawn herself up to every inch of her five feet.
“Elena—” Corwin took a few steps toward her, before he stopped as though he had suddenly recalled she was marrying another man. “I apologize for the imposition, but it will be safer for you if you possess no details.”
Dale suppressed the urge to shake his head. Even he knew better than to say such a thing to Elena—Raphael had said enough over the years for him to form an impression of her character and temperament.
“Is that so?” Elena narrowed green eyes at Corwin, propping her hands on her hips. “Well, considering my reputation is now in jeopardy if you were followed here, and considering you’re here because of something to do with my fiancé, I think I’m entitled to know why.”
Corwin’s jaw tensed and he opened his mouth to say something—probably to disagree—but Hawk cut across him. “The lady has a point.”
Raph would tell her. Dale knew his friend had not kept Elena apprised of everything in which he had been involved, but he had told her enough. “Raphael trusts her.” He shrugged. “We’re also standing in her home.”
“But the danger this could potentially expose her to—” Corwin began.
“From whom?” asked Hawk sharply. “The Revolution or your Family and the others?”
Corwin’s brown eyes flashed. “That is entirely uncalled for. The Revolution—”
“—exists for a reason,” interrupted Dale, surprising everyone, including himself. He very rarely cut people off. “Why else would people like Raphael and my friend Belly Skoog be Disappearing without a trace?”
All at once, Corwin deflated. He was a young man, but in that instant, he looked a great deal older. “I don’t know.” His fingers tightened on the brim of his hat. “All I was going to say is that you cannot automatically assume that my family is involved.”
Everyone stared at him skeptically—including Elena. She shook her head slightly. “The Four Families control Rift City, Corwin. You know that as well as I do—and I’ve only lived here a few years.”
“Just because some on the Council are crooked does not mean everyone else is as well.” Corwin pinched the bridge of his nose.
And with those words, Dale suddenly glimpsed the reason Corwin had contacted him. “You know there is corruption in Rift City, but you aren’t exactly sure where or how to fix it. Or how to contact the Revolution without bringing everything down on your head.”
Corwin met his gaze and held it. “Yes.”
“I’ll be,” muttered Hawk.
Elena broke the stillness that had fallen over her sitting room. “You had all better sit down. I’ll fetch more tea.”
Corwin tried to dissuade her. “We don’t have time for tea.”
She pinned him with a challenging stare. “I have spent the last three days baking. Someone is going to have to eat it all, and it might as well be you.”
She marched back into the kitchen, a tiny bundle of determination, and Dale looked over at Corwin. “Wouldn’t argue with her, if I were you. She keeps up with Raphael, and that is saying something.”
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