Beyond the Endless Sky

Chapter 9

Clarissa wasn't at all sure what she was expecting from the Child's reclusive navigator. From Anita's unhelpful warnings, Yannick could be anything from a toddler to a wild man from one of the lost islands. Her trepidation held her arms stiff, and she struggled to even knock on the door.

Her first attempt was barely loud enough for her own ears. She grit her teeth and knocked again, and this time her fist made a satisfying thud against the metal door.

"Y-yes?" Someone asked from the other side of the door. Surprisingly, the voice that spoke was young, and carried a tone that struck Clarissa as rather formal.

It was a tone that reminded her of the captain.

"Leslie asked me to bring you lunch, mister, uh, Yannick," Clarissa stumbled over her words, hesitation and uncertainty making her clumsy.

"Oh. Uh, who are you?" the voice asked.

"My name is Clarissa. I'm a passenger." Clarissa hesitated at the door. "May I come in?"

"I, no. No, please don't," the voice stammered, the speech staccatic and halting, as if Yannick was deciding how to respond mid-sentence.

"Oh," Clarissa said. Confused and frustrated, she looked at the plate and then back at the door. "Would it be better if I left the plate at the door and left?"

"No. Please, just, I'm sorry," the voice trailed off. Clarissa opened her mouth to respond, but stopped when something tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned and saw Captain Locklear standing right behind her. The captain wasn't looking at her; his eyes were fixed on the door. But there was a sad smile on his face, and he wasn't wearing the weapons Clarissa had always seen him with. "Yannick, it's Vincent. May I come in?"

"Captain!" the voice on the other side of the door exclaimed. Yannick's shout was followed by the hard clapping of feet on the metal floor, slowly getting louder with each step.

"Clarissa, would you move back about six feet? Yannick often needs more space and time than most to acclimate to the unfamiliar," Captain Locklear asked. His voice was as gentle as it was when he had apologized, and there was genuine sorrow in his eyes.

Clarissa nodded and complied, taking three tiny steps backward. The door groaned noisily, and swung open slowly, until there was enough room that a head appeared in the space. Clarissa couldn't see much of whoever it was beneath a wild mop of curly brown hair. "Captain, someone was here, at the door. Said she was a passenger."

"Passenger is an inadequate description, though not inaccurate," Captain Locklear replied softly. "May I introduce her?"

"Oh, uh..."

"As in all things, Yannick, your prerogative will be respected," the captain said formally, with his hand over his heart.

"Then yes, sir. It would be rude to do otherwise, wouldn't it?"

"A minor incivility. One a charitable heart would happily overlook."

"Nevertheless, sir."

"Very well," Captain Locklear said, and he took a step to the side and held out his hand towards her. "Yannick, this is Clarissa. Ward of the Monastery, our charge and fellow crew-member for the duration of our voyage to the Shield."

The captain pushed the door open, past Yannick, who flinched as if he were about to hide behind the door again. Clarissa was surprised to see that Yannick was young, perhaps even her own age. Thin and wispy, his curly hair nearly a mane that passed down below his neck, with eyes busily darting about, Clarissa suspected he would be quite tall if he weren't so hunched over.