The DeCadia Code (The DeCadia Series Book 1) (8 page)

There was only one way to kill a dragon and, despite popular belief, it wasn’t cutting of its head. The scales in that area were just as thick and tough as everywhere else. There was a spot, however, right where the dragon’s front arms attached to its body, where the scale was soft, tender. Something could pierce the skin there and go straight through its heart. But getting close enough to find that one, tiny spot? Next to impossible.

All Val could hope for was to keep her ship intact enough to remain airborne. They’d need to find a place to dock and make repairs if they could survive the assault. Val cursed when she felt another explosion rock her ship. She could smell wood burning, but refused to look back to see what was on fire. Her focus remained on the navigation equipment and the black dragon who seemed to have taken a personal interest in beating her ship to death.

The air around them hushed—went still—and that caught Val’s attention. It was as though the all dragons had paused mid-attack. Looking up, she saw they were indeed just floating in midair, staring at her ship. Her eyes followed their stare to the girl lashed against the mast, the dragon morphling. She was still unconscious; even so, the dragons knew she was there. Even the ones not close enough to see the girl had stopped. It was as though they had a hive-like communication with each other; their thoughts were a collective pool. What one knew, they all knew.

Panic began to creep up and Val took a steadying breath, but she nearly screamed when the dragons, as one, screeched out what could only be deemed a war cry. It sent shivers through her and fear latched hold. Though, instead of giving into the fear, Val used it to focus her thoughts on escaping their territory. She barked an order to fire. She heard her shouted order passed along and then soon felt the ship vibrate as cannon fire left her hold once more. The dragons screeched again and Val smiled tightly. She couldn’t hurt them, but she could knock them off their game.

Blackie swooped around the side and she glanced out of the corner of her eye. He was steadily flying toward the ship, his eyes trained on her. Sweat broke out and she cursed. His purple eyes looked so much like the girl’s; she knew instinctively this dragon was related to her captive. The one eye she
could
see was determined and full of malice. He wanted his family back. Too bad for him, Val wasn’t willing to slow down enough to hand over the girl. Too bad for her, he had other ideas.

The black dragon banked to the right and flew off only to turn mid-flight and dive right toward the helm. Val bit back a string of curses and concentrated on maneuvering the ship. First, she banked a hard left, grazing the massive wings of a dark gray dragon, before forcing the struggling ship to dive down steeply to avoid the head-on collision with the black beast. The top of the main mast swayed under the weight of the beast’s belly. Wood groaned and Val looked over her shoulder long enough to know the mast wasn’t going to hold long. The girl needed to be moved to safety. Lukas thought the same. She saw him already untying her from the mast.

Her attention returned to keeping the ship from crashing once that worry was gone. Val had to muscle through two dark green dragons, their scales scraping and warping wood and steel as she broke though the tight space between them. Val cringed with each sound, the screeching echoing through her. The ship was a part of her and every hurt became her hurt. It had always been that way with this ship that she built herself. Her blood and sweat were soaked into the wood just as much as the builders’.
The Emerald Queen
was her home; in a way it was also her family. It’s just how she’d always thought about her ship. It was as much family as her crew.

Dragons were not going to take them out. Not today.

The navigation panel told her she had five more notches to go. Five more and they could limp into the same port they’d used the last time they’d escaped. She felt the ship sway heavily and saw the main mast was beginning to lean.
Come on, ol’ girl,
she thought.
Hang in there with me for just a little longer
. A stream of fire streaked past her and caught the sails. She could hear the flames as they tried to catch hold of the material. A laugh erupted from her. After her last battle with dragons, she’d made sure every inch of her sails was flame-resistant. They could huff and puff all they wanted at the canvas and they’d never catch fire.

Dragons roared in response and Val threw her head back and laughed, the wind whipping her hair. Her fingers tightened on the wheel and she pushed the ship harder, using her controls to force more speed from the limping vessel. She only had three more notches to go. Three.

Blackie was back, flying alongside the ship. His tail lashed out and bit into the wood of the hold where the cannons were housed. She glanced at the dragon and could have sworn it was laughing at her. It knew her ship was struggling and she had slim-to-little hope of getting out of this. It was playing with her, which in turn infuriated her. Val closed her eyes and centered her anger, her sole focus making it the remaining two notches out of the dragons’ territory. Her muscles tensed and she braced her feet before banking another hard left, but instead of diving this time, she banked right as hard as she could, her ship slamming into the massive black beast gliding along leisurely.

Not expecting the blow, the dragon went rolling through the sky and Val took advantage of it. She dived low and flew close to the trees, trying to protect the damaged side of her ship as best she could. People below her began shouting and she felt the heat as the flames descended upon them. Sweat broke out and she flinched at not only the fury, but also the sorrow in the dragon’s wails. She felt it deep within. It resonated in her like a chord on a piano that hadn’t been played in an especially long time. It was rusty and off key, be that is it may, it rang true and clear.

As soon as the aft cleared the border of the dragon territory, Val turned her head just enough to look at the line of dragons behind her: the massive black one in the middle, his eyes full of rage. They’d made it. She let out a shaky breath and held tight to the wheel to keep from collapsing. Her entire body shook from the sheer relief of survival. The mast groaned, snapping her attention back to reality. She dived low, letting the airship skim just above the ocean waves and moved as fast as the old girl could. If the ship gave out, at least it wouldn’t be a deathtrap for them. She soon found the small island with the hidden inlet she’d used before. The landing was rough, but then again her mast was leaning so badly, it would snap soon if they didn’t secure it.

“Captain.” Lukas nodded when she jumped down to survey the damage. Men were scattered across the deck, some badly injured, others either helping the injured or already working on securing the vessel. Two dozen men were dealing with the mast without having to be told. Her crew knew their jobs and knew them well.

“How bad?” she asked softly, stopping to bind an open wound on one of the younger sailors who was unconscious, yet still breathing. Left unattended, he would have bled to death.

“It’s going to take days to make the necessary repairs,” he told her. “The villagers here should help us, though, with securing the parts, steel, and lumber we need.”

Val nodded. It was bad. She saw holes in the hull everywhere as she leaned over the side of the ship. A flash of color caught her attention and she leaned further and saw Stephen cautiously climbing down. She sighed and pointed him out to Lukas. “Fetch him back before he does any damage to himself, please.”

Lukas stared at her and Val refused to squirm under his inquisitive stare. She knew he was insanely curious as to why she wanted Stephen alive, but it wasn’t something she wanted to share just yet.

“You’d best get changed then, Captain, unless you want the Royal Navy knowing your identity?”

Val snorted. Not bloody likely. She waved Lukas off and turned to go down to her quarters. No, Stephen didn’t need to know who she was. It would be better for both of them if he never found out.

Stephen had a clear path to safety. After their near annihilation among the dragons, the skilled pilot at the ship’s helm docked at a small island inlet. Escape was pulling him from the ship, promising him safety and survival. But Stephen couldn’t go. His conscience demanded he stay and rescue whomever of his crewmembers still survived.

Guilt at his own survival overran his emotions. He was almost fearful at receiving the contents of the news, as to how many men and women he’d lost. So many following his orders met their end due to decisions he was responsible for making.

His very first command was a disaster. The guilt weighed on his shoulders like a wooden cross. For the moment, Stephen suppressed these thoughts and focused on the present. If there were still those under his authority alive. It was his duty to secure their safety.

With these thoughts at the forefront of his mind, Stephen exited the hold through the sizeable hole left by the ebony dragon. The ship’s exterior was splintered in a hundred different locations yet still held strong. Carefully, Stephen chose his hand and footholds down the side of the alien ship.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, it was his plan to formally address the captain of the ship and negotiate the release of his men from the pirate vessel. Fighting was always an option, but if Stephen could prevent any further death, he would. After what seemed like an eternity of climbing, Stephen’s boots hit the sand. Lifting his gaze, he was surprised to see a group of pirates already looking down at him. One of them he recognized. It was the pirate who had knocked him unconscious.

Stephen’s temper flared for the briefest moment before he placed his pride aside and addressed the man. “My name is Captain Stephen Tiberius Cross. I’m an officer in DeCadia’s Royal Navy.”

“If you say so,” was the man’s informal response. The pirates on either side of him snickered.

“And you are? The captain of this vessel?”

The man shook his head and crossed muscular arms over his chest. “No, not the captain. But it’s under the Captain’s orders that I am to secure you… again.”

Stephen weighed his odds in a fight. Weaponless, tired, and outnumbered, he had a better chance of being reunited with his command if he bided his time. “Well, throw over a ladder. I just scaled the side of your ship to get down here.”

Surprise spread across the man’s face. Clearly, he was expecting Stephen to put up more of a fight. The pirate turned to his left and whispered something to the man next to him. Within seconds, a rope ladder was lowered. Preparing himself for the encounter to come next, Stephen slowly climbed the wooden rungs back to the deck of the ship.

As he crested the edge, Stephen received an up-close look at the maelstrom of damage done by the dragon attack. Small fires were being extinguished across the deck; pieces of wood in every shape and size littered the scene. There were so many wounded or dead, it was hard to tell the two apart.

Stephen felt his heart begin to drum in his chest as he realized many of the bodies lying still wore the Royal Navy’s colors. His heart stopped as a familiar form caught his eye. Half of Amil’s face stared back at him. His friend was lying still on the ship deck. Most of the left side of his body was gone. Only a dragon talon could cleave a man in two like that.

Stephen heard the pirates behind him ordering him to walk but their voices paled in comparison to the clamor of his heart. He knew what his eyes were telling him. His brain and heart were the ones having a problem accepting the information. Even as the pirates moved in to shackle his wrists with heavy chains, Stephen ignored them.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Amil. The man, who had been more like a brother to him than any kind of comrade or friend, was gone forever. It was a notion Stephen had never decided to entertain. It was naive to think nothing would ever happen to his friend, yet Stephen had thought just that. Amil would always watch his back and Stephen would do the same for him. Only, he hadn’t. He’d been locked up inside the brig while his brother died fighting valiantly.

More words came from the pirates after they secured his hands, though they might as well have been talking to an anchor. Tears pooled in Stephen’s eyes as he groped for a way to cope with his new reality. Not only Amil, but also dozens of his men who had made it on board lay dead or dying. What had he done?

A rough shove forced Stephen to move forward. Tears fell down his face without regard for prying eyes. The walls of his mouth were painted dry at the same moment. Words were beyond his grief. All he could do was stare at the gory aftermath of his decisions.

“Come along.” It was the tall pirate who had ordered him onboard. If Stephen were paying any kind of attention, he would have seen that the pirates were ushering him forward now, not prodding him, something akin to compassion in their eyes.

Stephen allowed himself to be led to the opposite side of the deck. As they continued to walk, the body count rose: dragon fire the clear demise of many of the dead. Charred remains brought the stench of burned human flesh to the breeze. Others, like Amil, were the victims of the beasts’ claws. As long as a man’s torso and sharper than any sword, they sliced through the human anatomy with ease.

They passed by the ship’s leaning center mast. Stephen had never seen a ship take so much damage and still remain in one piece. It was a true testament to the ship builders’ talent at their craft.

Numb, the once captain of
The
Dragoon
stopped at a corner of the ship. If it was at all possible for his heart to sink any further, it did. Only a handful of the crew from his vessel remained; five in all. Among them his own pilot, Marm; they were all shackled as he was and sitting on the deck under guard by a pair of rifle-wielding pirates.

“Sit,” the pirate leading him ordered. Stephen obeyed and looked into each of his sailors’ eyes. Tears flooded them all and even a few were just too shocked to show anything except a blank stare. Stephen wondered whether he looked the same. Duty to his position and those who would still turn to him to lead pushed all his other feelings down.

Blinking and clearing his throat, Stephen looked to his pilot for answers. “Is…is this all that remains?”

Somehow he already knew what the reply would be. The older woman looked at him with a tired nod. A trail of blood trickled down the left side of her face. “Yes, sir. I’m afraid it is. As soon as we boarded, the dragons attacked. We were shackled immediately after the ship escaped.”

Stephen’s eyes wandered back to Amil’s still form on the other side of the deck. Anger burned a hole inside him as he searched for a target. Apart from blaming himself, images of the dragons came to mind. There was no doubt one of those monsters had marked the end for Amil. Rage boiled inside Stephen as feelings of vengeance began to overwhelm sound judgment.

“Sir?”

Stephen was pulled from these thoughts by the voice. He looked up into the eyes of one of the young privates under his command. The boy couldn’t be over twenty. Smoke smudges stained his face giving him the appearance of a dirty child just back from a romp in the dirt. “Yes?” Stephen said.

The boy’s voice was thick with the aftershock of his grief. “What do we do now? What are our orders?”

Stephen felt all their eyes on him. The small group that remained still looked to him for leadership. “For the moment, we stay put,” Stephen said, gazing deep into the faces of those around him. “No one else is going to die. I’m getting us out of here and we’re going to make those responsible pay for what was done today.”

***

Lukas sighed as he watched Steven with what was left of his crew. He was feeling about the same himself. They’d lost a lot of good men today, some of whom Lukas counted as family. As much as he’d like to sit and mourn, he had work to do. The injured needed to be seen to and supplies found to repair the damage done to
The Emerald Queen
. He’d moved the girl from the mast earlier, but he was beginning to become concerned. She still hadn’t come round. He knew Valeria had knocked her out, he only hoped she hadn’t hit her too hard. Head wounds were tricky. Sometimes the smallest injury could cause the worst damage.

Not comfortable leaving her up on deck amongst all the carnage, he gently untied her and took her below. Putting her behind bars didn’t feel right; although he couldn’t let her roam free either. Turning left, he passed Valeria’s quarters and down the hall to his own. He laid the girl down on the bed and smoothed her hair away from her face. She looked peaceful, but he also knew what she could do. If she morphed down here, she’d split the ship in two. Valeria would murder him when she found out. He also knew she wouldn’t want the girl up there either. For all her tough exterior, Valeria had a heart bigger than the whole of DeCadia itself.

He’d brought ropes down with him and wasted no time in securing her to the bed. As much as Lukas wanted to leave her free, he couldn’t. She could escape and cause all sorts of havoc. The damage done by the last dragon he’d met up close and personal still haunted him. As much as this girl inspired his protective instincts, he wouldn’t let that blind him to what she was capable of.

Locking the door behind him, Lukas went in search of his captain. He knocked on her door and waited for the muffled reply to enter. Her cabin was lit by the sunlight streaming through the massive hole in the side of the wall. The repairs were going to be extensive and it would be a week or more before they could continue. Valeria was not going to like hearing it. He winced mentally at all the bad news he had to impart upon her, especially about Tobias.

“Lukas, come see these,” she said, her back to him. She was looking over a mess of maps spread out on the table in front of her. She wore her normal pirate gear; black boots that laced up well-past her knees, a black pair of shorts that hugged her hips and upper thighs, and white shirt beneath a deep emerald vest. The mask she donned hid the entire upper portion of her face. She truly looked like the pirate Emerald of
The Emerald Queen
, holy terror of the skies. She was magnificent.

Curious as to her excitement, he walked to stand beside her and his eyes widened. The maps in front of him were unlike any he’d ever seen before. The lines moved and shifted, never staying in the same spot. His first assumption was sorcery, but he tramped that down. If Valeria was excited about them, then he would force his own reaction aside. She was his captain, his friend, and he would follow her.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice hushed in the quiet of the cabin.

“Atlantis.” Valeria’s voice held an almost reverent tone. She’d found something tangible that told her the fabled city wasn’t a legend, that it was real. This map was real. No denying that.

“Are you sure?” He let his finger trace one of the moving lines and shuddered when it jumped beneath the pressure of his fingertip.

“Yes.” She turned to face him, her expression excited and grim all at the same time. “Tobias confirmed it. My birthmark and his are one and the same. They will help us make sense of the map and the location of Atlantis.”

“Valeria, there’s something I must tell you,” Lukas said softly. “It’s about Tobias.”

“What?” she asked, her head snapping up to look him in the eyes.

“His injuries are severe. Without a healer from McDougnalach, he’s not going to make it.”

Her face paled. “We’re days away from that port.”

“I know.” He laid a hand upon her shoulder. “All we can do is make him comfortable. I asked the men who went to the village to get us something to ease his pain.”

“He’s all I have that can lead me to Atlantis,” she whispered. “Without him, these maps are useless.”

“I’m sorry, Valeria.”

She nodded and took a deep, steadying breath before squaring her shoulders. “What about the ship? Have you gone over the damage?”

“It’s bad,” he confirmed. “I’m not sure the village will have everything we need to patch the old girl up. We’ve lost engines, whole sections of the hull and deck, but mostly, we’ve lost our crew.”

She stared at him a moment before going to sit behind her desk and pulling out two glasses and a decanter of amber liquid. She poured a healthy amount into each glass, put the bottle away, and shoved one glass toward him. Lukas took it and touched his glass to hers, then downed the drink. It was a custom they had gotten into whenever they’d lost a member of their crew.

“How many?” she finally asked.

“Two-thirds of our family is gone,” he told her, his voice tight and full of grief. With her, he could show his pain; not the crew. If they sensed his emotions, then they’d give into it themselves; and right now they needed to get the repairs done and get out of the dragons’ line of sight.

“That many?” her voice shook. “We’ve lost that many?”

“Aye, Cap’n,’” he said. “There’s only a handful of the Navy members left as well.”

“You secured their captain?”

He studied her face again, noticing how strained it was. There was a deep concern in her eyes when she spoke of the Navy captain, too. Whoever he was to Valeria, he was as important to her as her crew. She would tell him why when she was ready.

“Yes, he and what’s left of his crew are being watched over until we figure out what to do with them.”