Wings of Fate: The Lost Ones
Chapter 10

Curious about the city, she stepped outside, once again moving across the deck while ignoring the blood soaked planks. Her plan failed when she noticed her tennis shoes soaked in blood. Revulsion ripped through her, threatening to unleash the crackers she managed to swallow. The sudden desperate wish to toss the shoes into the ocean rushed over her.

Swallowing with haste, Raven reminded herself her shoes were necessary -- they were the only pair she had. Doing her best to shake away the thoughts, she continued across the deck toward the rail. The crescent shaped beach floated away. Wide, bloody blobs polka-dotted the shore, turning the white sanded beach into something gruesome.

With a trembling breath, Raven turned her attention to the area surrounding the beach. An outcropping of tall, leafy trees and full bushes encircled the base of a hundred-foot cliff. The tree she and Austin hid behind was only slightly distinguished against the rest, as they unintentionally picked the tallest one. Closing her eyes, Raven allowed the image of the men fighting to play out in her mind like a movie. When the echo of their death wails reverberated through her, Raven opened her eyes and shoved the thoughts away.

Hard packed dirt and long snaking vines climbed the side of the cliff before the edge of the cliff cut off both the dirt and vines. As the boat drifted further away from the beach, the peaks of buildings began to appear over the top of the cliff. What began as the cresting of buildings became a dozen cube-shaped, beige stone pillars jutting several hundred feet into the air. The buildings were spaced unevenly in such a random way it almost seemed as though their construction was an afterthought. Several of the cube-shaped buildings had perfectly flat tops whereas others were tipped with old-style cathedral bells, or shockingly large stone crosses.

As the boat gained momentum beneath her feet, more of the city became visible. Like the lost city of Atlantis, the King’s city seemingly rose from the ground as the edge of the cliff shrank away -- large hotel-style buildings surfaced, each built with the same beige stones but covered in horizontally angled red roof shingles. Though they appeared to be made of the same material, each of the buildings were shaped differently -- their heights and widths random.

Encircling the city stood massive piles of multi-colored rocks arranged into a protective boundary wall standing some fifteen feet tall. Behind the city stood a mountain tipped in snow and blanketed in grass, stretching in either direction along the cliff as far as the eye could see.

A castle stood between the city and the mountain.

“A real life castle,” Raven breathed in wonder. The castle appeared to be made of some other kind of stone than that in the rest of the city. Cone-shaped turrets, of varying sizes, spiraled high above the multi-leveled roof and from each turret waved colorful banners. The dark windows lining the castle’s side stared, unblinking, at her. Between the unseeing windows and the waving banners it almost seemed as though the castle were bidding her farewell. “So long,” she whispered.

The boat maneuvered around a corner and view of the city blinked out. Turning to go, Raven was startled to replace Austin seated behind her, watching from a chair against the wall. He leaned back in the chair, with only the two hind legs of the seat touching the surface of the boat, with one hand buried in his cracker box. When he slid his gaze away from the blocked view of the city, Raven was finally able to pinpoint the expression in his eyes. Anxiety.

Moving towards him, she leaned against the cabin wall beside him, watching the forest’s greenery pass by. Behind the boat a swell of water rose and Raven realized they were in the ocean and now moving into a small streaming outlet. It was evident they were not on an island.

With a sigh, she glanced down at Austin’s head, and thought about telling him she was worried, too, or maybe make a joke about who should comfort who -- but she didn’t truly want Austin to know she was worried. One of us should be brave. She thought about telling him a story about castles and dragons and princes -- but decided the story might sound both frightening and eerily similar to their current circumstances. She thought about inviting him to the steering room to watch Bael work his magic -- but thought of the pain Bael was muddling through and figured that was as bad an idea as any.

In the end she said nothing -- just stood by his side until his chin drooped to his chest, his hand forgotten inside the cracker box, and the chair still hinged on two legs. Very carefully, so as not to disturb him, Raven inched the chair down to a safer position and left him alone.

Returning to the steering room, she moved to stand beside Bael. His pale, unnaturally long fingers rested on the wheel spokes as he steered the boat through a narrow gap between two stretches of land on either side of them.

“What was the name of that city?” she asked.

“Benk City.” He answered in a tone discouraging further conversation.

“Benk? Who lives there?”

“Humans, civilians mostly. There is a large file of soldiers, as well, but they reside in the lower sections of the castle.”

“Whose castle is it?” She asked, though she knew the answer. The kidnappers already mentioned the name of the king who lived within the city. A king who, for one reason or another, thought she was special enough to kidnap -- as did this wise woman in the village, though she certainly gathered Raven’s presence by other means. Neither the wise woman nor the king mentioned Austin, though both ensured his inclusion. What did that mean? If the king wanted her, why did he also have his men grab Austin, or was that a mistake?

If Bael hadn’t caught up to them, would she right now be in the custody of the king? Waiting for -- whatever it was he meant to do with her? Or would she and Austin have been just as free even if Bael had not come along? The sailors turned against each other and, most likely, killed more of themselves than had Bael and Jeswein.

“King Nash lives in Benk City with his son, Johnathon, and daughters, Mehira and Josephine.”

Distracted, Raven glanced at Bael with curiosity. “Have you met them then? Are they nice?”

Bael studied her out of the corner of his eyes, the expression on his face doing nothing to hide his annoyance, or his desire for her to leave. She mentally dug her heels in.

Realizing she wasn’t going anywhere, he sighed and answered. “King Nash is a good man, I suppose, he has never behaved in any unfair manner I am aware of. He is forty-five, forty-six years old, and runs Benk City as though every citizen is his family. He is gray-haired, probably because of his children, and a fair man, from what I have heard. His son, Johnathon is an over-indulged twenty-two year old who will one day take over the kingdom and run it aground.

His daughter Mehira looks just like her father, only her hair is still long, red and curly. She is a shy, sweet-tempered girl who is -- sixteen years old, I think. His other daughter, Josephine, is the epitome of a parental nightmare.

She is twenty-years old, maybe a little older but definitely younger than Johnathon. She takes after her mother in both looks and appetite, which is to say she is a beautiful and vicious snake. I have an idea about the relationship she shares with her brother. Not that it matters much to me.”

Raven sucked in a breath. “You think there is something inappropriate going on?”

Bael smirked. “I am certain everyone other than their father has the same opinion Raven, I am not being assumptive here.”

“I wasn’t accusing you of being anything; I was just shocked, is all.” She said, watching the slumped trees and vines passing by through the glass window. “The rest of your men...?” Raven asked. His jaw clenched just as his hands tightened around the steering wheel, and she knew it was the wrong thing to say. Dead. A lot of men died in the last twenty-four hours. “Do you know why those men took us?” Raven asked.

Bael stared straight ahead in silence. When the quiet stretched between them for several more minutes she realized he was no longer talking. She sighed. Shouldn’t have brought up his men.

Low, hunkering trees stretched uneasy arms out over the water on either side of the boat; bringing to mind every movie she ever saw that included a jungle expedition and a large snake. Stepping outside, she moved to the front of the boat and watched the cloudy water break against the boat as the vessel cut downstream. Cool water sprayed against her skin but with the heat emanating from the forest, the valley created a sauna-like atmosphere difficult to inhale.

Cicadas buzzed around her. Just over their noise, birds called to each other from their inconspicuous perches on the trees around them. Occasionally something would float across on the breeze -- the rustle of leaves, the cracking of a branch, but always there was something giving evidence to life. It was so different -- the forest -- at night versus during the day.

Last night she was overwhelmed by the impression of living at the world’s edge where only she existed. Today she felt her infinitesimal size -- like an insect in a world of dinosaurs -- as though she was trespassing in someone else’s world.

Glancing over her shoulder at Bael, Raven acknowledged she was living in someone else’s world. They traveled the narrow river for several hours before Bael steered the craft to the left embankment. He brought the boat to a slow halt several feet away from land. Leaving the room, she went in search of Austin, and found him still sleeping in the chair. Shaking him awake, Raven murmured his name a couple of times until he looked up.

“Time to get up.” She turned away then and moved to the side of the boat closest to land. A quick glance over the rails told her the water was too shallow for another experiment in cannonballs. The consideration into their lack of options was derailed when Bael appeared at her side with a coil of twisted rope, deftly tying it to the metal boat rail. Austin, who was fast on Bael’s heels, looked askance at the rope. “What’s that for?”

“We are going to have to climb down.” Bael responded, jerking the rope tight to cinch the knot more firmly. Austin’s shoulders slumped and he looked at Raven with such an expression she knew it to be a silent whine. He wasn’t silent for long.

“Really? Haven’t we already climbed down enough ropes this week? I’m tired of climbing down ropes.” He stuck his lower lip out, crossing his arms in objection.

Raven smiled at him. “It sucks, huh? I understand.” She rubbed his shoulder to ease some of his stress, parodying a mocking comforting tone. “The alternative, of course,” she said, pausing to look over the edge of the rail, “is to jump again, and there is a heck of a lot less water to catch our fall this time.”

Austin was silent for a beat before edging towards the rail to glance over the side. His shoulders sunk another couple of inches in defeat. “Fine.” He grumbled.

“You two climb down. I have to take care of something first and then I will be right behind you.” Bael turned back to them. “Please, please do not go far. I am tired of killing men so I can get the two of you to Ruth.”

Raven stared hard at him.

“You know it’s not as though we came here by choice, or asked you to take us to Ruth, so I hope you don’t blame us for all the ‘killing men’ you’ve experienced.” Raven sniped. He met her glare head on, tightening his lips as though forcing his response into muteness. When he finally straightened his back, throwing back his shoulders in some timeless defiant expression, Bael turned on his heel and left her alone with Austin.

“Men!” she complained, turning to Austin to replace him looking over the side again, fingering the twists in the rope. He glanced up at her in question and she sighed. “Fine, I’ll go first this time.” Climbing down the rope wasn’t as bad as climbing from the airplane, which Raven attributed to two factors: one, this rope was a genuine rope and less likely to unravel as a bunch of blankets would; and two, there was less of a drop.

Austin climbed onto the rope before her feet even touched the ground. When he inched his blue-jean covered butt most of the way down she wrapped her hands around his waist and pulled him down. Austin whipped his bangs out of his eyes with a flip of his head and glanced at the ground, noticing the same thing she did when she moved towards the rope to help him down.

They were standing in some serious mud. The ground sucked and pulled at her shoes with each step she took. While Bael was still onboard, she grasped hands with Austin and together they skated to the edge of the mud before crawling into the grass and waiting for Bael.

It was a few moments after he climbed down the rope before she realized what it was Bael had ‘to take care of’. He stood at the edge of the river, his tall, black boots unbothered and unmarked by the mud, staring at the boat as though it would perform some kind of magic trick. Standing several feet behind him, Raven alternated between looking at the boat and looking at the side of Bael’s face to determine why they waited.

The acrid scent of burning wood reached them long before orange flames appeared, licking along the walls of the steering room. She understood, then, why he brought the bodies -- to be rid of them. If anyone lived nearby, they would come to see what was happening as the pungent odor fanned into the woods, in every direction, around them. Black smoke curled above the boat and was lifted away by the wind.

Raven assumed Bael wanted to linger long enough to ensure the fire took hold but they continued to stand in the mud for over an hour watching the great bulk of wood burn and fly away in pieces of ash. When the last of the boat sunk beneath the rivers’ surface Bael turned away. She and Austin watched him as he moved through the trees and within moments the forest swallowed up any evidence of his jumpsuit.

Remembering the mental conversation she’d had with herself when they’d been hiding behind the tree on the beach, Raven pulled Austin by his hand and they headed in after Bael.

Raven followed Bael’s retreating form as he stalked between the trees like a man on a mission, which, of course, he was. There was no telling how far away the village was but it appeared as though Bael had no more plans of stopping and camping for any reason -- be it important or no. Glancing around at the surplus of clustered trees around them, tranquil in appearance during the day but teaming with would-be assassins at night, she hoped he didn’t intend on making them walk straight through the night to get there.

Sunlight filtered through the trees, creating small sun spots on the leaves at their feet, leading her to believe night was a long ways off. Hopefully, night was further away than the village.

It was easy to imagine the last twenty-four hours hadn’t happened -- there was no attack, no kidnapping, no beach battle, and no gentle boat ride up the river. The trees, the land, and the rocks under the leaves were all the same as they were yesterday. If she wanted to, she could pretend they were walking all this time. Except the other men were absent.

Instead, one man’s body burned with the boat, and the other three men -- well, who knew what Bael did with their bodies.

How he managed to catch up to the boat so quickly was beyond her -- she wanted to ask but, given the stiffness of his posture, decided against it. Ever since seeing Jeswein’s body in the sand he’d been angry -- hostile, even. When they camped for the night, the night of the attack, the two men seemed like good friends. Raven wondered how good of friends they had been.

Realistically speaking, it wasn’t her fault his friend died or, for that matter, the other three warriors who accompanied Bael on this mission. She meant what she said on the boat -- it wasn’t her fault she’d landed here; it wasn’t her fault they came to get her and Austin on their mission, not their fault this King Nash wanted them -- so no, Raven couldn’t be blamed for their deaths.

The guilt damn near smothered her.

Nearly an hour passed since the boat sunk beneath the river’s surface but the scent of burning wood clung to the stiffness in her shirt and every time the wind blew her hair across her face she could smell it again. Trying not to imagine the bodies burned to ash somewhere within the confines of the boat, she focused on Bael, who moved at a furious pace.

It occurred to her he might have changed his mind about taking them to the village and could have decided to take them to that place where they take others of her kind. Or he could be taking them back to where they crash landed -- to just drop them off and leave them to their own devices. Or he could be stomping towards the village -- who could know what was going through his mind. Her own mind was a maelstrom of confusion. Wrapping her head around everything was almost impossible.

It was a bad dream.

At some point, she thought, it would be nice to step back and enjoy the uniqueness of the situation she and Austin were in -- to revel in something that should be seen as an adventure of inter-planetary time travel and men who lived forever. But right now was not the time. All there was time for was reaction.

It made no sense why the men kidnapped them. She and Austin weren’t celebrities; neither of them were the President or the ruler of some country. But, then again, the angry sailor mentioned ‘others’ -- what others? Others like her and Austin?

Bael told her some of the arrivals wandered away from the Crash Site leaving only a tangle of footprints behind. Had the sailors been kidnapping the passengers? It would explain the disappearance of those people. But, what would King Nash want with a bunch of people alien to the planet? Did he also have a village for those like her? Or, as the men’s tone of voice conveyed, was something more sinister happening to the passengers?

Perhaps Bael was right about the witch hunt. How many people were crucified for the accident of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Too easily could Raven picture the historical pyre of fire burning victims; see their screaming faces begging for mercy, hear the crackling of their hair as the flames leapt along the strands, and smell the burning of skin.

Shake out of it, Raven, she scolded herself. It was just the memory of the burning boat haunting her and nothing else.

Despite the fact King Nash kidnapped who knew how many passengers, he specifically asked for her special treatment. He asked specifically for her. Why did everyone want them?

Bael said Ruth specifically asked for her as well. That she wanted or needed to tell Raven things. What things? The attackers treated them like useless cargo but they specifically came for them. What did that mean? Who was King Nash? What did he want? She didn’t have anything they could possibly want. She crash landed here with a laptop and a purse. It was frustrating.

Her purse. It wasn’t impossible to discern Bael hadn’t bothered to stop and grab her useless baggage during his rescue attempt. She wanted to ask about her purse, if they could retrieve it, or if it would still be there. But, again, Raven doubted very much Bael would appreciate any inquiry of the sort. She lost her purse. So what?

He lost friends.

She glanced at Bael’s back again as though looking at it periodically would change anything. Other than being impressed with his flawless sense of direction, there was nothing else for her to comment on and so kept her silence.

The forest seemed to sense the fury stalking within it and, in trepidation, kept quiet as well. The occasional call of birds floated down from where they hid well above her head, their voices co-mingled with the near silent rustling of wind through leaves and the sudden crack of twigs beneath her feet. The sense of hovering alone at the end of the world returned.

Austin was tired of walking. He was tired of boats and trees and strange people. When Bael said he was taking them to the village, he hadn’t wanted to go see some old woman. Instead, he would have been fine to keep traveling with the warrior men -- go out and explore the island.

His initial comfort the other morning at having found men outside the airplane had long since evaporated. Bael and his men were big and they looked tough but other men on this island were bigger and tougher.

Instead, Raven protected him. She was there with him the whole time and now he just needed to stay with her. Raven was comforting. And smart, he thought. After everything that happened since they met Bael, Austin wanted to hurry and get to this old woman’s village so Raven could call for help. He would call his dad and tell him he was coming home, and that was that.

Austin kicked leaves as he followed several feet behind Raven. Bael was plowing through the forest in his attempt to get to the village. In fact, since leaving the river, Austin hadn’t even seen Bael because he was so far ahead of them that Raven was the only one he could see.

Every now and again she glanced back at him with serious eyes and a reassuring smile. She was putting a brave face on it but it was obvious she was as weirded out by everything as he. No matter how weird it got, though, she kept moving forward. Like now, they were in the middle of a forest with nothing but the sounds of birds and insects around them, and she just kept walking.

They could have moved faster, which would have made Bael happy but Austin was tired and he wasn’t going to walk any faster than he wanted to. Stuffing his hands deep into his blue jean pockets he glared at the ground.

This is dad’s fault, he thought. If his dad hadn’t been set on sending him away, he could have been home having dinner or watching television -- just hanging out. But no, because he had been difficult and hard to deal with, his dad sent him away -- because he hadn’t wanted Austin there.

Sunlight wavered across his eyes and the ground melded into a watery mess, blurring his vision for the moment it took to blink the tears away. I am not going to cry any more, he growled.

Crying was for babies and all that crying he did when his mom died was why his dad hadn’t wanted him anymore. He should have known better than to act like some kind of sissy. Austin paused when a new thought sunk home -- it wasn’t his dad’s fault.

It was his fault.