Barnaby the Wanderer

Chapter 24: The Stuff of Ancient Humor

"Why in Lucif's mother's dog's darkest love should we leave the Phaeton?" asked Bodkin. "We won it fair as paladin's dice. Here we've got bunks. A private room to shit in. Stores of food and drink. Not to forget the flame guns. We 'll need 'em when we're next in trouble."

"Which will be within the hour," prophesized Matilda.

"We have little fuel left," said Cedric. "We traded it for the speed of our escape. And the reserves went to Matilda's wonderful arrow."

"Was a bit astoundingly wonderful, wase it not?" asked the Silenian, grinning. "Ah, that was like sending the sun a kiss, seeing it laugh fire in return. And I did it lying on my back. Not the usual fun a girl has in that position, though similar."

"Right," said Val. "Without more energy crystals, Phaeton is a deathtrap wandering with the wind. Their signal towers will be sending out the word. All Hefestia will be looking for it. We need to get off and get away while it is still dark. Tonight."

"Couldn't we get more crystals?" asked Matilda.

"Doubtful," said Cedric. "They guard them like a dragon guards its eggs." Bodkin started to speak; Val cut him off.

"Spare the saints' ears from hearing how you can steal dragon eggs with eyes closed and hands tied. Disregarding certain death, stealing crystals is more Lucif-kissed work than just walking where we want to bloody get."

"Yeah, but walking's a bore," said Bodkin. Giving a yawn to demonstrate the agony of ennui.

"I could use a bit of boredom," declared Cedric. "Once again, we barely avoided the swing of Friar February's harvest scythe. And only now approach the tower."

"Approach?" asked Barnaby, eyes widening. "Are we finally near?"

"Hmm, relatively. Were it daylight, you'd see a line of blue mountains to the north. The tower is within those very peaks, beyond the Hefestian border. A week or three away. But autumn approaches; it shall get cold."

Barnaby shivered at thought of the cold, at thought of the tower. The tower that waited in the cold. Waited for them. Maybe it shivered too? Barnaby pictured a tower shivering in cold wind, thinking how each day Barnaby and his friends neared it. Did the tower await them eagerly? Or in fear?

"Shall we put it to vote?" asked Cedric. "Stay on the ship, or leave?"

"Stay," declared Bodkin. "Let's see where the wind takes us."

"Stay," agreed Matilda. "Just another night."

"Leave," voted Cedric. "The Hefestians are not fools. They will not fall for the same tricks twice. They will find this ship. We'd best be away when they do."

"Leave," said Jewel.

"You're just agreeing with Cedric," growled Bodkin.

Jewel leaned forwards towards the rogue. He leaned back and away. She hissed.

"We had saint's luck today. Would anger good Sister Hefestia to be asking for the same luck tomorrow. She'd name us fools. And the good Sister leaves fools to drink wisdom from a cup of tears."

"Fine," said Bodkin. "Fine. Fine."

Val turned to Barnaby.

"What about you, Miller?"

Barnaby looked about the control room. Counting the different places blood still stained. There by the control board, and in the corridor, and atop the ship...

"Staying on Phaeton means fighting to keep it. Today we did what we had to. But we don't have to stay now. And we shouldn't. I vote we leave."

"And I vote the same," said Val. "That settles it. Grab your gear, whatever you think you can carry. Admiral Cedric, find a quiet field and put us near enough to the ground to use the ladder."