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
CHAPTER THREE
FOR THE FIRST YEAR HE LIVED WITH his aunt and uncle, Dale missed the Wild Sea desperately. He smelled salt brine everywhere, and in everything—even his aunt’s very best strawberry shortcake. He overheard Uncle Liev remark irritably one day that he must have gotten too much water up his nose during the tsunami.
Transitioning from his old life to his new was hard on Dale. Not only was he mourning the loss of his family, but there were so many things in Falconcrest he’d never done before. Mucking out stalls, tending crops, caring for animals other than chickens…all of it was new and unfamiliar business. At eight, he could sail his father’s small boat and was well-versed in catching and cleaning fish. But here… Here the largest body of water was a lake—and no one made a living fishing.
When Dale was ten, his aunt had a sixth child: a little girl. It was soon obvious to everyone that Gail had Dale wrapped around her little finger. This irritated Wayne on more than a few occasions; he was getting older and did not want to be followed around by a little girl. But Gail reminded Dale of the little sister he would never see again and he loved her.
If she needed a playmate, he was hers. If she wanted someone to give her piggyback rides all over the farm, he did. And when she wanted to hear stories, he quietly spun them for her and her alone.
He did not tell anyone else stories; storytelling had landed him in a great deal of trouble just a few days after he arrived at the farm. As soon as the children had a moment to themselves, away from their parents, his cousins plied him with questions about his parents’ death.
“How does the sea eat people?” demanded Wayne. “My father said it was a sue-nommy that got ‘em.”
Dale swallowed. The memories were hazier than they had been, but he still woke trembling from nightmares. “You’d best listen,” he said bravely, “because I’m only telling this once.”
He began with the tales about the Wild Sea that his father had told him—how strange things happened on the Wild Sea, like ships disappearing, never to be seen again. “They say,” he relayed solemnly, “that if you sail due south across the Wild Sea, no one will ever see you again.”
His cousins all shivered.
Dale went on to describe how the sea had suddenly drawn back from the shore…and then how a massive wave of mud-colored water had swallowed everything in a roaring surge.
“I’m never visiting the sea,” declared Davy shakily, when Dale finished.
White-faced, Wayne and Gloria nodded in agreement.
Though Dale warned his cousins to keep the story to themselves, they gleefully relayed it to other children in Falconcrest whenever they got the chance—just to watch them squirm. Eventually, the tale reached adult ears and one of their neighbors told Uncle Liev about it. After supper that night, Uncle Liev sat Dale down in the parlor and forbade him to speak of the Legend of the Wild Sea any further.
“It’s just a story, lad,” he said sternly. “A tall tale your father dreamed up to scare you.”
“He didn’t dream it up!” protested Dale. “At the hospital, the old man next to me was talking about it too.”
“No more, Dale.” Uncle Liev’s face settled into grim lines. “Do you understand?”
Dale held his uncle’s gaze for a few seconds before dropping his eyes to the carpet. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, off to bed with you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dale lay awake long after everyone else had fallen asleep, going over every reference to the Wild Sea and its Legend he could remember. There were quite a lot of them—his father had been a fisherman, after all, and Dale had grown up surrounded by people who made their living from the sea. He was hardly the only person to know that the Wild Sea was called Wild for a reason.
He made a face at the low ceiling above him. Except here in Falconcrest I’m one of the only people who knows anything about the Wild Sea—or any sea at all. His uncle and aunt’s friends and neighbors knew of valleys, and mountains, and dreadful things like avalanches and river floods, but very few of them had ever seen a blue expanse of water stretching out before them as far as the eye could see.
There’s only one thing for it, Dale decided firmly. When I grow up, I’m going to go back to the Wild Sea and find out if the Legend is real.
~oOo~
HIS life in Falconcrest settled into a routine. Dale grew quickly, clearly taking after his father’s side of the family. This came in handy when it came to manual labor chores around the farm, but it made it difficult on Aunt Helena’s furniture and chinaware. By age twelve, he was as tall as his uncle. By seventeen, he was both taller and broader than the majority of his uncle’s friends and had the appetite to match.
Aunt Helena teased they had to plow an extra field just to feed him.
Most of Falconcrest considered him an oddity. The only person who did not care that Dale was a small giant was his youngest cousin, Gail. She was now a little blonde-haired sprite of six; he could never refuse her anything when she peered up at him with somber chocolate eyes. Even if it meant he carried her around on his shoulders for an hour—much to her mother’s dismay. Helena thought Gail was getting too old for that sort of thing.
In his spare time, Dale collected knowledge about sailing, steam engines—and about the Wild Sea. His goal was always in the back of his mind; as he grew older, he began to develop ways to implement it. He worked a few odd jobs for other farmers periodically and used part of the money to buy books on sailing and steam engineering.
Uncle Liev disapproved of his choice of reading material, but as Dale read them in snatches of his free time, he could hardly complain. Had he known precisely what his nephew was planning, however, he would have put an end to it at once. He had very definite ideas about his nephew’s future and it involved farming.
“The world needs good farmers,” he declared several times a week at supper. “Without us, they’d have no food to eat.”
Dale agreed with that, but he disagreed with the notion that he was cut out to be one of those good farmers. As far as he was concerned, a life of farming was a life of slow torture. He longed to feel a good, stiff sea breeze against his face and feel a boat swaying beneath his feet.
Only one thing in Falconcrest could have tempted him to stay—a lass by the name of Belle Owens. She had blue eyes set in a creamy face, sleek black hair, and a laugh Dale swore sounded like tinkling bells. The only problem was that she seemed unaware of his existence. Whenever he passed her by on the street in town, Belle never looked at him. Only through him, as though he were a giant, invisible wraith floating along the cobblestones.
Dale thought he could have eventually overcome this obstacle, but it soon became blindingly clear that his cousin Wayne had eyes for Belle too. She was the only child of an older couple; when her father died, she would inherit his farm. And while Dale knew that was not his cousin’s sole interest in Belle, he knew Wayne well enough to know that it played a role.
He comforted himself with the thought that Belle would probably look straight through Wayne too, and then the two of them could commiserate about being invisible to pretty girls. That lasted all of a week—until the day Dale walked past the general store to see Belle and Wayne engaged in an animated conversation.
It was all downhill from there.
Within a month, Wayne was courting Belle. She still treated Dale like he was invisible, but he had resigned himself to that. It did not, however, lessen the sting.
That was the beginning of the end to Dale’s time in Falconcrest. As though the clouds had rolled back to reveal a glimmer of the path before him, he realized it was time for him to go. He had no desire to be a farmer for the rest of his life; if he stayed any longer, that was exactly what he would become.
Besides, he thought, I’m nearly nineteen now. Certainly old enough to go out into the wide world to make my own way.
With that in mind, he waited for the right moment to break the news to his uncle. Preferably out of earshot of Wayne; Dale did not need his cousin’s take on things so far removed from his current scope of interest.
His chance came a few days later. Wayne was dining with Belle’s family and was not expected back until late. Amid the general bustle that pervaded the house while supper was being laid out, Dale took his uncle aside. “Uncle Liev, I need to talk to you.”
Uncle Liev craned his neck up to examine his nephew’s serious face before nodding. “Of course, lad. Meet me in the parlor after dessert.”
Despite the nervousness fluttering inside him like a baby bird, Dale enjoyed supper. He liked good food. Besides, as his Aunt Helena was fond of saying, there were few ails a hot meal, a bath, and a good night’s sleep could not cure.
If he was even more taciturn than usual, no one said anything. Aunt Helena kept shooting him looks over the milk pitcher every so often, her expression both kind and sympathetic. As he finished the last of his dessert, Dale realized she probably thought he was upset about Wayne and Belle.
He took a moment before he headed into the parlor to give her a gentle, one-armed hug. “Thank you for the meal, Aunt Helena. It was amazing, as usual.”
“Thank your cousins,” said his aunt with a smile. “They did most of the work today.”
Dale nodded to Gloria and Gail. “It was good.”
“I peeled potatoes,” explained Gail gravely.
“And excellent potatoes they were,” Dale assured her before he continued down the hall to the parlor. His heart began pounding.
Uncle Liev was already there, filling up his pipe. He glanced up as Dale entered, but said nothing. He only motioned for Dale to have a seat in the armchair on the other side of the empty fireplace.
Dale carefully lowered himself into it and clasped his big hands together. His mouth was dry; he swallowed twice before he could speak. “Uncle Liev, I am a grown man now and I think—” he drew in a deep breath, “—I think it’s time I made my way in the world.”
Uncle Liev blew out a trickle of smoke. “I wondered if something like this was coming,” he said gruffly. “It’s that blasted Wild Sea, isn’t it?”
He caught Dale’s look of surprise and chuckled darkly. “Oh, yes, lad. I know you’ve been reading everything you can get your hands on. I’m not blind.”
Dale wondered fleetingly if the bookstore owner kept him apprised of things as well, but he pushed the thought aside. It was hardly important now. “Do you remember what you said to me when you brought me to Falconcrest?”
“As I recall, I said several things.”
Dale leaned forward in his seat, hazel eyes intent on his uncle’s face. “I asked you if I would ever see the sea again, and you said that I might someday, after I grew up.”
Uncle Liev shook his head slightly. “It always comes back to the Wild Sea. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear salt air was contagious.” He eyed Dale over his pipe. “You know your mother grew up here?”
Yes, he did know that part. Dale nodded.
“Well, what you may not know is that your father breezed into town one day on some business or another and swept her right off her feet.” Uncle Liev transcribed a vague arc with his pipe. “It was like the smell of the ocean clung to him and sucked her in. She was never the same after that. He took her back to the coast and I only saw her once before…” He trailed off, cleared his throat. “Anyway, it was like the sea had got hold of her too.”
Dale chose his next words very carefully, thinking them through before he allowed them to exit his mouth. “You talk about this farm, Uncle Liev, like it’s a part of you.”
“It is,” replied his uncle promptly. “Been in the family for eight generations.”
“That’s how it is with me and the Wild Sea.” Dale spread his hands. “I know I haven’t seen it since the day I left Port Ruby, but it’s a part of me. Wherever I am, I’ll spend the rest of my life thinking about it.” He cracked a wry smile. “And, let’s face it, sir. I’m a terrible farmer.”
This prompted a small smile from his uncle. “Not terrible, exactly. You do have a way with the animals.”
“But not the plants.”
The two men shared another smile. Aunt Helena had said for years that if she needed a plant killed, she sent Dale to tend to it. He had no idea what he did wrong, but he had a long and disturbing history of being the kiss of death to garden plants, field plants, trees, and the odd houseplant. The only plants he handled now were the dead ones he fed to the cows and goats.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Dale,” said Uncle Liev, after another puff. The lines in his ruddy face deepened. “I’d rather you stayed here in the valley. But I’ll not keep you here if your heart’s set on going.”
“Thank you.” Dale hesitated, and then made a small noise in the back of his throat. “Uncle Liev, I’ve been meaning to ask you for a couple of years now…” His heart started thudding in his chest again. The answer was an integral part of his plan. “Do you know what happened to my parents’ house?”
Uncle Liev looked startled, as though that thought had not occurred to him in years. “The house? It was destroyed. By the tsunami.” A flicker of old grief flashed across his face. “I went there, you know, before I found you at that hospital.”
Though Dale had expected this news, it still hurt. “What about the land?” he pressed. “They owned it—I remember the day they paid it off.”
Color rose in his uncle’s cheeks. “I sold it,” he said softly. “A few years back. Don’t look at me like that, lad,” he rushed on. “Up until a year ago, I was your legal guardian. I waited long enough for the value to recover a bit, and then I sold it.”
Dale did his best to keep his expression open and impassive. Something was off about his uncle’s reaction. He could not quite put a finger on what it was, but he had a sinking feeling he was about to find out. “Have I got an account down at the bank, then, that I didn’t know about?”
Uncle Liev dropped his gaze to the carpet and Dale knew.
“It’s gone, isn’t it?” he said hollowly. His mind flicked back through the major events of the past few years. “That drought four summers ago? The bad winter before that?”
The only answer he received was the way his uncle’s fingers tightened on the stem of his pipe. He looked suddenly older and grayer than he had two minutes earlier.
Hot anger pulsed through Dale, but he pushed it down. What his uncle had done was not right, but he and Aunt Helena had fed, clothed, and housed him for over nine years. He swallowed. “That’s how much you love this place.”
“It wasn’t just to save the farm.” Uncle Liev’s head snapped up. “Did you want your aunt and cousins to go hungry or freeze to death? Did you want to starve?”
“That doesn’t make it right,” said Dale sharply. He paused. “Does Aunt Helena know?”
If anything, Uncle Liev’s expression became more miserable. “She knows I used it, but I promised to put it all back.” His eyes found Dale’s. “I meant to put it all back. And I will. We’ll have a good crop this year.”
“We had a good crop last year.” The words were out before Dale could stop them. This had shaken him; Uncle Liev was usually unflinchingly honest.
“Aye, that we did. Until the plow broke down.”
Silence fell over both of them.
“I’m sorry, lad. It was a terrible mistake.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
Uncle Liev sighed. “I’d hoped to have it all back before the subject ever came up.”
It was Dale’s turn to stare at the carpet. His mind whirred, trying to arrange all of this information into its new configuration. He looked up. “How much was it?”
His uncle started to hesitate, but he knew as well as Dale that all his nephew had to do was ride down to the bank and ask. “Five hundred pounds.”
Dale just barely managed to keep a straight face. It was a modest number, but more than he’d ever seen in his life. For a second, he allowed himself to dwell on the lost possibilities that money represented, the things he could have done with it. Then he let it go.
“I’m still leaving, Uncle. I have some money saved up, but…” He hesitated. Should I really ask? He decided he should. His uncle had, after all, used his money. “Do you have anything you can give me now?” He held up a hand to forestall any argument. “Just a little. You can wire me the rest later when you have it.”
“That’s very generous of you, Dale. I’ll see what I can put together.” Uncle Liev’s expression shifted. “I would appreciate it if you did not mention this to your aunt.”
“Yes, sir.” Internally, Dale snorted. He did not know how his uncle intended to keep this a secret permanently. He’ll have to tell her eventually. Aunt Helena is too sharp.
Shaking his head slightly, he stood to leave. The conversation was over. “Goodnight.”
His uncle lifted a hand in acknowledgment and Dale left him staring into the cold, empty grate of the fireplace.
Find out how this YA 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 in trade paperback from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Book Depository.
Copyright © 2013 E. R. Paskey
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