Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Five - Jumping Ship

“Ow, ow, ow!” I squeaked as I got to my feet, the insistent tugging at the base of my ears not giving me that much of a choice in the matter. “Let go!”

“Captain!” the very rude man holding onto my ears called out. “We’ve got ourselves a stowaway!”

Through my wince, I saw Golden Rogers turning to look our way, then grinning so wide that his sparkly teeth glinted yellow in the sunlight. “What a nice catch,” he purred. The captain started walking my way, past the sailors mending their Bastion-given cuts on the deck and those carrying around rolls of canvas to patch the holes in the balloon above. “We’ll be using your hide to fix the holes you’ve made in my ship,” he said.

I really didn’t want to be a patch.

I lifted my candleholder before me--and taking a leaf from Awen’s playbook--stabbed down and back as hard and fast as I could.

I knew it wasn’t nice, but under the circumstances it was probably just a little warranted.

The meanie holding onto my ears gasped and tightened his grip. That was the opposite of what I wanted! I pushed back into him, then brought my heel down onto his foot. Finally he let go and I bounced off towards the centre of the deck where I had more room to move.

“Tsk, tsk, little bun,” Golden Rogers said. “You should have just let me and my boys take care of you. Now when you die, you’ll do so tired.” The pirate captain reached to his hip and pulled out a sword. “Perhaps I’ll take your head myself?”

I stared at it. “That’s... kind of disappointing,” I said.

The man blinked. “Pardon?”

“Is that a long sword?” I asked.

Golden Rogers raised his sword to his side in a high stance. It showed off the very pretty basket hilt. “It’s a backsword, actually.”

“Oh. I was expecting a cutlass. You know, since you’re a pirate and all. It’s a bit disappointing.”

Rogers spat to the side and shifted stances a little. “Are you going to put up a fight at all, or are you just going to mock the sword that will take your head?”

“I’d really rather no-” I cut off as Golden Rogers shot ahead, his sword sweeping through the air on a direct path to taking my head off.

I brought the candleholder up, parrying the blow with a ring of steel on silver and a grunt as my wrist took the hit a bit wrong. He was strong.

The next swing came from above and I ducked down, only to realize that he was bringing his leg up to kick me at the same time.

I tasted Roger’s boot for just a moment before my head snapped back and I stumbled onto my bum a few paces away. “Ah!” I said past a cut lip.

Rogers didn’t seem the type to pass an opportunity to kick someone while they were down. Literally.

I shoved his leg aside with my forearm, then noticed the white bandage wrapped around his thigh. Awen’s parting gift.

The candleholder came up, and even though I couldn’t put much force into the blow, it still seemed to hurt when the silver-leaf end jammed into his wound.

Jumping to my feet, I backed up all of two paces before the pirate swung at me again. I ducked the first swing, then smacked the second aside with the candle holder.

As soon as I could, I glanced around.

I was surrounded. The entire crew on deck had gathered to watch us fight. No, not all of it, some were still at work, but most were leering and cheering at their bit of bloodsport. I had to cut my observation short, or else my body would be short a head.

“Can we not?” I asked. “Please?”

“I do like it when they put up a fight,’ Rogers said.

“Creep!” I shoved forwards, intent on poking the man in the chest with the candleholder, but he swiped it out of the air and held on tight to the haft of it.

“You know, this was a gift from my sister-in-law,” he said.

I let go of the stick, hopped to the side, then sprinted across the circle of onlookers.

Something hot slashed across my back, just over the edge of my armour. I hissed, but kept on moving forwards.

The pirate I was heading towards looked with widening eyes as I bounced up, then used his shoulder as a board to launch myself even higher.

“You’re just prolonging the inevitable,” Rogers said as his circle of men broke up and he followed me.

I landed against one of those netted ladders and hung on for dear life with one hand while the other reached up and around my neck to the warm wetness there. I was bleeding. “Ow,” I whined as the sting kept on going. I glanced at my health, and winced. I was down thirty points!

Most of the time, when something hurt, it was an over and done thing. Not the cut he’d given me though. I really need a bandage. And some plasters. Maybe a hug. A hug would be good.

I sniffled and started climbing up the net for a lack of better things to do. At least it would get me away from all the pirates, even if it meant hanging out on top of the balloon all on my own. “Get it together Broccoli,” I muttered as I left a trail of red handprints behind me.

I wasn’t alone. Not really. My friends were nearby, they were safe. Maybe they’d grab the Beaver Cleaver and come after us? Or maybe they’d assume I was dead already?

I bit my lower lip against the pain and pulled myself up higher. Soon, I was at the end of the net ladder and near to the top of the balloon. The surface above was all thick tarp, with ribs where the structure inside the balloon showed.

Stepping onto the tarp, I spread my arms out and kept my balance as I pushed across to the middle.

If a group of pirates came, I could run off the other side, or maybe down the back or middle?

I wasn’t expecting to have them come up from just about every direction all at once. Golden-toothed grins and cruel catcalls greeted me from all sides as I turned around and tried to find any direction that didn’t have someone waiting to catch and hurt me.

Golden Rogers took his time coming up, and when he did he stood up on the edge of the circle and slid his sword out of its sheath in a single, slow motion. “You know, this isn’t a bad place to go,” he called over the rush of wind.

“I’d rather just not,” I said.

“Ah, come now. The wind in your hair, the sun shining above, the sea spread out below. It’s fit for a poem is what it is.” He gestured and his men jeered and hollered their agreement. “You’re a captain, aren’t you?”

I swallowed and nodded. “I am,” I said.

“Then perhaps I ought to at least give you the honours of putting some effort into ending you,” he replied easily.

“Insight,” I muttered.

Golden Rogers, Sky Pirate Captain, level ??

I would have been better off not knowing after all. “I really don't want to die,” I said. “Not alone.”

The man smiled. There was even a hint of actual pity there. “There’s always the jump, girl. Perhaps the World will give you an out and throw you to shore? But I’m afraid your fate, and soon that of your friends, will be sealed. You can thank that old bastard Abraham.”

“What did he ever do to you?” I asked.

Rogers tilted his head to the side. “Why, he cost me my first ship. And what a nice little ship it was. Not to mention a few good crewmates, and half my teeth.”

“Did he just attack you?” I asked.

Rogers shrugged. “We tried taking his ship. I, for one, think he overreacted a little. So I plan on kidnapping his niece and sending him her head in a neat little crate. Or maybe I’ll just extort him for all the gold he’s willing to part with. I’m a fair kind of man.”

I licked my lips and looked around for something to grab, and sort of weapon. The candleholder was long gone. I wasn’t carrying anything. Back when I’d been adventuring on the ground I had a bandoleer with stuff in it, but that was still on the Beaver. Adventuring gear didn’t seem needed in a city.

If I survived, I’d start carrying some more gear with me.

That left me with only magic as a weapon. Magic that was generally pretty flashy. I didn’t doubt that Rogers could close the distance between us long before I hit him with a fireball or two. Not that that would be enough to really stop him.

Then I looked down, and the slightly spongy surface I was standing on.

“I guess I’ll be jumping after all,” I said.

“Oh?” Golden Rogers asked. “The coward’s way out?”

“Something like that,” I said.

I planted a boot on one of the reinforced bands atop the balloon, bunched up my leg, then jumped as hard and fast as I could.

There was no enjoying the time in the air. Instead I focused as hard as I could, forming fireballs in my hands with as much mana as I could spare poured into them, more than I’d ever dared use back at the Albatross mansion.

The pirates said a whole host of rude things as nine fireballs rained down around them. A few burst apart in mid-air, some sniped by mages in the group, others falling apart, probably because they were so poorly made.

Not all of them missed though.

A few of the faster fireballs poked right through the gas bag, and some of them splattered onto the canvas and started eating away at it with hungry flames. Air hissed out of the ballon, and where it touched the flame, they flared and roared.

Rogers started shouting orders right away while stepping toward my landing site

I hoped that the fire would be enough to stall the ship until my friends could get away.

And then, just as I was about to land and Golden Rogers was about to turn my head into a pincushion, lightning tore out of the empty sky and struck the side of the balloon.

I landed in a wobbly crouch, made worse when a second thunderclap rang out from below and something exploded. A glance off the side and I saw one of the ship’s paddle wheels taking off with a wild spin into the sky.

And then I saw it. The Manatee, rushing up with tiny figures aboard pointing this way and that.

“It was nice seeing your ship,” I told the captain. “But I’d rather not see it again.”

Confusion sparked in his eyes for just a moment before I threw myself off the side. My jump was far from perfect, owing to the spongy footing and the way the ship was rocking. Still, it carried me far enough away from Golden’s ship that I had time to make it out in full as I fell past.

There was smoke coming out from a few portholes, and the crew was running about in a panic on the deck while others tried to climb off the balloon in a hurry.

And then I was past and falling towards the sea below.

I tried to twist and angle myself towards the Manatee, but a trick of the wind and a bit of poor timing had me tumbling past my friends.

I sighed, the sound torn from my lips. That was some bad luck.

Nothing came to mind about how to survive crashing into water from a crazy height. Which was quite annoying.

And then a pair of small but strong arms grabbed me around the waist. “Hang on, captain,” Bastion called over the rush of the wind. “I can’t fly with the both of us, but I can slow us down. Or at least soften the landing.”

I started to laugh. Or maybe I was crying.

In either case, I was soon too wet for anyone to tell the difference.

***