Outrageous Fortune-Errant Freight Book One

Chapter 7

"Thank you," John said upon reaching the bay door and Jagati's extended hand.

Her response was both nonverbal and quite vigorous as she hauled him through the opening hard enough that he came near to landing face first on the deck.

It was interesting to John how the air of the bay seemed colder than the air outside. "Something I said?" he asked, righting himself and limping to join Rory, who was hauling in the pilot ladder.

In response she slung the shadow trader's rifle over one shoulder and clomped past John to the opposite bulkhead, where she activated the bay intercom.

"Eitan," she called into the mic, "we're all aboard and good to go."

"All aboard, aye," the voice of the Errant's fourth and final crew member—and the reason Tariq's gambit had failed—crackled through the speaker. No sooner had he spoken than the drone of the engines increased to a high-pitched whine and the airship surged forward, at the same time angling into a steep ascent.

This gave John and Rory an interesting few moments as they were still pulling in the ladder, but with the aid of the handrails on either side of the door they managed to muscle the last rungs inside before slamming the door shut.

Almost immediately the acrid scent of the canyon was replaced by the sickly odor of burned flesh. John saw Rory's eyes drop to the injured leg, but he said nothing and spun the lock into place. Then both men turned to where Jagati stood, watching the entire process.

No, John thought, less watching and more glaring.

"Do we have the cargo?" he asked, pointedly ignoring the glare.

"Safe and sound." Rory nodded to where the leather satchel sat, nestled in the pile of coiled rigging.

"Barely." Jagati crossed her arms over her chest and ramped up the glare.

"Best check on Eitan," John told Rory. "And thank him for the save, however he managed it."

"Aye to that." Rory headed to the forward companionway.

"And stow the cargo," Jagati added as he passed by.

"Leave the cargo," John countered directly.

Rory, who had already turned and snapped up the satchel's long strap, wordlessly dropped it, spun on his heel, and made for the companionway at double time. On the second step, however, he looked back at John. "Best not linger over your argument," he said. "That leg needs cleaning, and sooner rather than later."

John's eyebrow quirked up. "Who said there'd be an argument?"

"Her face," Rory said with a jerk of the chin towards Jagati.

John looked in her direction. "I see."

"Oh yeah," she said.

But Rory was already on the move, dashing up the stairs as fast as his long legs would take him.

John waited until the thudding of bootsteps faded before looking at Jagati. "So, what are we arguing about?"

Her eyes widened and her hands flew out in a frustrated gesture older than Fortune. "I can't believe you even have to ask."

His head tilted. "Not being a sensitive like Eitan, I can't believe you can't believe I even had to ask."

The wide eyes narrowed. "Keep it up, Pitte, and this argument will turn into a fight."

"In which case, I'd suggest you lose the hardware," he said, nodding towards the rifle which had found its way from her shoulder to her hands. "Airships and plasma don't do well together."