A second explosion rocked the Liberator, but Zeke and Princess Isabelle were able to keep their footing. Zeke took her hand and began to run toward the ramp.
“It's gone!” she yelled, tugging his hand, “This way!” She guided him to one of the ropes that attach the Tranquility to the Liberator. The ship rocked again from another explosion deep inside. They were thrown against the railing and Zeke's arms instinctively wrapper around her, to hold her steady. The impromptu hug lasted a little longer than strictly necessary.
“We're climbing across?” Zeke asked.
“Yes. Hold on tight,” the princess replied.
The two carefully moved along the rope. Isabelle in the front and Zeke behind her. Zeke tried not to look down at the ground hundreds of feet below. Isabelle confidently crawled along the rope, which amazed Zeke. He struggled to keep up, while still being careful, as gusts of wind threatened to yank him off the rope.
As they inched along, Isabelle asked Zeke a few questions about what had just happened on board the battleship.
“Who was that? What was that? He was not one of us,” she said.
“The Lunar Republic is experimenting on your people. They extract your 'adaptions' and graft them into their soldiers. That man on the battleship was their first real success. He had two different 'adaptions' from two of your people,” Zeke answered.
“What happened to my people from whom the 'adaptions' came?”
“They...they perished,” Zeke said.
“Damn them,” she said, leaning her head over the vast expanse of sky so that her tears did not wet the rope. They continued along until they are about two-thirds of the way across.
An inhuman screech filled their ears. Silhouetted in the full moon came a black shape. As it got closer, Zeke groaned. Two leathery wings twenty feet across, a toothless beak at least four feet long with a small pencil-thin mustache, and a bony crest counterbalancing the beak came into focus.
The admiral was here. The moon's influence on the people lived there made a small percentage of them mindless monsters during the full moon. He was a weredactyl, an ancient flying monster brought back to the present. He screeched again and tucked in his wings to dive at the two tasty morsels stranded between the relative safety of the airships.
Isabelle backed up at the last moment and the admiral just barely missed her with his sharp beak. Instead of slicing off a delicious portion of her flesh, he severed the rope and zoomed past off into the distance. She screamed as she began to fall, but Zeke's right hand grasped hers and arrested her fall.
He strained to hold the rope with one hand as they swung in the wind. Zeke got an idea and began to swing his body to move the rope.
“Hold on until I tell you to let go!” he yelled to Isabelle, “No matter what happens, you must get back to your people and tell them what happened here.”
The admiral screeched again, angry at being denied an evening snack and swung around and began to fly back toward them. Zeke kept swinging back and forth to build momentum. Luckily, the Brute appeared at the edge of the railing and understood the plan. He reached out his scarred, muscular arms, just as Zeke reached the apex of his swing.
“Let go!” he yelled. The princess released her grip and continued the upward trajectory toward the airship. The Brute caught her and pulled her over the railing. Zeke swung back and prepared to swing forward to try and get aboard himself, but the hellish screech of Admiral Storm filled his ears. Turning his head toward the sound, Zeke watched helplessly as the admiral's beak cut through his left arm at the elbow.
No longer hold the rope, Zeke fell through the clouds. Looking up, we watched the admiral gobble up his forearm and the shocked look on Isabelle's face as he ordered the Brute to go.
Isabelle reached over the railing and a white strand burst forth from her hands. It snaked down and wrapped around Zeke's waist, arresting his fall. She struggled to pull him up, but a couple Mongrels helped haul him up.
Trying to ignore the blood loss and retain consciousness, Zeke put his hand over the stump to try to stop the bleeding. The admiral came around again and, after tucking in his wings, dove directly at Zeke. His dagger was gone and the saber was tangled up in Isabelle's strand. While the crew of the Tranquility were working hard to get him up on the deck, they simply were not fast enough. The admiral was going to get the rest of his evening snack.
Zeke mentally prepared himself for his impending death, focusing on making himself ready to die. He ignored the yelp of pain he heard from the deck of the airship. At least the princess would be safe and the wider world would know of the foul experiments of the LIFE. He did his duty and opened his eyes to face his killer. His vision was filled with the maw of the weredactyl. Zeke's end was at hand and he would face it as a man, with no begging, pleading, or crying. He stared into the abyss of the admiral's mouth and dared it to consume him. Just before reaching Zeke, the admiral squawked and was lurched toward the battleship, a large porcupine quill stuck in his side.
Looking up, Zeke saw the Brute holding a handful of quills and an unhappy Mongrel, clearly missing several of his back quills. Also there was the smiling face of Isabelle, her freckles like little stars twinkling in the night. Visions of her face filled his mind before he surrendered to unconsciousness.
The newly ennobled Duke Windrunner of the Borderlands finally finished dealing with the daily list of supplicants which came for everything from matters of high justice to minor disputes. Coming down from his judgment seat, he carefully flexed the crude clockwork device that replaced his missing forearm. Nowhere near as good as a real arm, his privateer days were over.
For his service to the realm, both in crippling an enemy battleship and bringing valuable intelligence that brought the Kingdom of Victoria into an alliance with the Kingdom of the Wastes, King Edward the VI gave Zeke a dukedom in the Borderlands near the Wastes. It was not the wealthiest land, nor near the important movers and shakers in the kingdom, but it was full of honest, hardworking people. The duke considered a blessing and honor to rule these people.
A messenger burst through the door to the judgment chamber. He was panting, clearly out of breath.
“My duke! A delegation from the Wastes is almost here.”
Zeke perked up and started giving out orders for servants to prepare a large meal later, as well as light refreshments now. Wine was brought up from the cellar and extra beds were made up. He walked into the entrance hall of his (relatively) humble manor to receive the delegation.
The delegation arrived an hour later and Duke Windrider opened the door to receive them. Heading up the delegation was Princess Isabelle in full royal regalia. The light green dress she wore as well as the swirled hairstyle gave her the appearance of a freshly-plucked rose. Zeke required a gentle nudge from his seneschal to stop staring. After the opening pleasantries and some light refreshments were had, the two got down to business.
“I am honored by your visit, Your Highness. How-” Zeke began.
“A promise was made on the Liberator. You have not made your request known and out in the Wastes, we do not let debt hang over our heads like the decadent nobles of your land, present company excluded. I have come here to settle this matter.”
“You saved my life when I fell. As far as I am concerned, the debt has been fully repaid,” Zeke said.
The princess was silent for a moment. Zeke continued speaking.
“As soon as you were on board, you could have gone to safety below decks. Instead, you risked your life on the main deck to make sure I made it aboard safely. But that is not why you came out here, is it? We could have handled the matter through a letter or two.”
“No,” she quietly admitted, her cheeks turning as red as her hair.
Zeke swallowed his fear. It was now or never.
“Princess Isabelle of the Wastes, you made a promise to give me anything in your power. Lest anyone think that you do not pay your debts, I wish to collect that debt today and wipe the slate clean. My request is this: a kiss.”
Everyone else in the room stopped talking. A couple of spoons clattered on the floor. For five seconds, her face was neutral. Then, a smile wiped away all the fear in Zeke's mind and he embraced her.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six - The End
Picture Credit: "airship again" by Mike is licensed under CC by 2.0