The Forgotten Story Read online

  And the ship’s . . . envelope?

  Pierce had no earthly idea how he’d missed seeing a vessel of this sort when they docked earlier that evening. He reckoned the military must have had her stored in one of those large, dome-shaped buildings on the river that he now surmised were likely boathouses.

  If Pierce hadn’t read about the technological advancements of such inventions, he’d have had no idea what he was looking at or how they worked. But there she was, all one thousand tons of her cutting through the choppy water until enough gas was pumped into the envelope to lift her out of the river. Not since Captain Geming Xiong’s vessel, Ame-No-Mi-Kumari, had Pierce seen a thing of this caliber.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Pierce yelled out. “It’s a bloody airship!”

  The Ekta’s only advantage was that she’d had a good head start, but the distance wouldn’t last long. Below the steam-powered air vessel’s hull hung a large propeller that began to spin. A couple other propellers, located on the starboard and port side, extended outwards on wooden and metal beams that resembled skeletal bird wings. Once the beams were fully extended, the blades began to turn. The smokestacks pumped out more black smoke as fuel burned power into them, making the huge ship surge forward.

  If only the Ekta could use her blasted fans!

  With the constant flashes of lightning, their pursuers were able to keep the Ekta in their sights. The storm would prevent soldiers from trying to board, but that wouldn’t stop them from firing their cannons or dropping a bomb from above, if they could raise their ship high enough.

  Rain pounded the deck as Pierce helped batten down the hatches. The heavy downpour kept everything a blur as the crew scattered about, trying to keep the ship afloat. Towering waves leaped over the railing and slammed down upon them. Lightning snapped down in jagged streaks of light. The winds flung the ropes about like whips, making it difficult for the crew to hoist the remaining sails. The vessel groaned against the water that was violently pushing her around.

  Cannon blasts sounded along with the lightning as the Man-o-War advanced. Pierce slid wet hair from his face as he watched their pursuers gaining on them. The white cover of the envelope shone like a pale rocket in the dark, an American flag cinching it to the foremast. It whipped and snapped in the winds. She was not only steadily catching up, but rising in altitude, as well. It wouldn’t be much longer before the ship was on top of them—if their cannons didn’t send them to the depths first.

  Bursts of smoke and fire exploded from the airship’s long guns, sending cannonballs whistling sharply toward the Ekta. Pierce crouched with the others when wood from a mast shattered. Another blast and the floorboards shook when a cannonball sailed diagonally and smashed through the deck. The aircraft was getting higher. Pierce wondered why the captain kept increasing their altitude. They had a good aim on them as it was. It seemed ludicrous.

  Soon, the loud thumping of blades cutting the air was directly over them. Another blast from the aircraft’s cannon and they would be done for.

  Pierce was rushing up the stairs toward the helm to see if Chief Sea Wind had any sort of plan when a bright flash stopped him. The boom deafened him momentarily. He turned and thought he was imagining what he was seeing. Lightning had struck the envelope and when it did, the explosion lit up the entire river! The gas-filled balloon burst in a hellish ball of red, orange, and white, the fire consuming the cover in seconds, devouring it to its metal frame underneath. The vessel itself plunged nose first into the water below, breaking apart on impact. The captain had made a critical error in gaining unnecessary altitude.

  The vessel landed so close to the Ekta that Pierce could make out the people on board tumbling and falling out. They cried like banshees in the stormy night.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Pierce said in astonishment.

  “Pierce!” called Sees Beyond, rushing up to him.

  She came alongside him on the steps and looked out at the flaming vessel. “I prayed to the Great Spirit for help,” she explained.

  “I think the Great Spirit bloody well heard you.”

  * * *

  Even with the navy no longer chasing them, the night still proved difficult to survive. Hours after they’d fled the Sieur de LaSalle Wharf, the brutal storm remained overhead, threatening the lives of the Ekta with every drop of rain and lightning strike. The fact that they had made it out of the canal and through Lake Pontchartrain was in itself a miracle. By the time they reached Lake Borgne and sailed on past Half Moon Island, the storm had moved on.

  When the calm seas finally opened up to the promise of a safer voyage, Pierce met with Chief Sea Wind, Sees Beyond, and unfortunately, Waves of Strength, inside the chief’s quarters.

  “We should be well into the Atlantic by morning,” reported the chief, taking a seat at the head of the table.

  The chief looked utterly exhausted. His entire cabin was in shambles from both the storm and the vigilantes ransacking it, but he appeared too bushed to care about the mess. He looked old to Pierce. His hair had gotten much greyer, and the wrinkles in his dark face had deepened like the crevasses in slept-in sheets. Decades at sea had a knack of dwindling years off a person.

  Pierce really needed a drink, but he doubted anything remained on board.

  “Where the hell did you come from, Landcross?” Waves of Strength asked, wrapping herself in a blanket she’d found on the floor.

  Everyone in the room was soaked to the bone. Pierce had already taken off his coat and vest and draped them over the chairs.

  “Originally? England, love,” he answered sarcastically while pulling off one of his boots. “Where I recently departed from was the very place you lot left me.”

  “You sailed all the way from the Hawaiian Islands to New Orleans?” Sees Beyond asked as she brushed her wet hair with a bone-handled comb. “Why?”

  Pierce wrung water from his sock and tossed it over the arm of the chair next to him. He then began unbuttoning the cover from his other boot. “I’m afraid I may be the reason for your capture.”

  “Quoi?” the chief and his wife said.

  “How can that be?” Sees Beyond asked.

  He pulled off his other boot. “I never mentioned anything to you about this, but apparently, there’s this witch named Freya Bates who wants me dead, and to do so, she needs me to return to England.” He pulled his other sock off and wrung it out. “She’s using my mates to draw me in.”

  “How did you find out about what happened to us?” Waves of Strength asked.

  “Freya sent me visions. Graphic ones, I might add.”

  “Are you saying this witch is the reason for our arrest?” Waves of Strength went on, standing between the chairs on the other side of the table.

  “I believe she had some hand in it, aye,” he answered, matching her chagrined tone.

  “To bring you to England?”

  He nodded. “Aye.”

  “Why does she want you dead?” Chief Sea Wind spoke up. “What did you do?”

  “Believe it or not, I did nothing to her.”

  Waves of Strength snorted.

  “My grandmother told me she’s trying to create some kind of powerful entity using the bloodlines in my family,” Pierce explained. “Why I need to die, I haven’t the foggiest notion.”

  “Your grandmother,” Sees Beyond interrupted. “Why did she not try to warn me of this threat?”

  “She did. Freya has somehow blocked her from communicating with you.”

  “She has the power to do that?” Sees sounded worried.

  He shrugged as he leaned into the chair. His body felt wrecked. “S’pose. Why? What kind of witch is she?”

  “I’m no witch, myself,” Sees Beyond stated. “I am merely a psychic who is able to transmit through the spirit world, but if she can interfere with the spirits, then I suspect she’s pretty dangerous.”

  Sees Beyond was the sole reason why Chief Sea Wind and his crew had survived as long as they had when other Sea Warriors had been cu
t down. She had the ability to connect to those beyond this world. They, in turn, warned her about dangers such as naval fleets and nasty storms. If not for her, the Ekta might have been lost to the bottom of the sea ages ago.

  “She has a god on her side,” Pierce added. “A Trickster, in fact.”

  Sees Beyond’s dark complexion went ashen. “A Trickster? That is not good.”

  “What is it that she wants to create?” Waves of Strength asked.

  “Dunno. It seems nobody knows, not even my grandma. Christ, even the dead can’t tell her.”

  “It depends on how far the spirits she speaks to go back,” Sees Beyond explained. “Spirits were once of the living. Like us, they only know what they can see for themselves, even in their own realm. I will ask those I communicate with for answers.”

  Pierce hoped she could find such answers.

  * * *

  It was early morning when they reached a small, desolate island near Florida. The bright warm sun was exactly what everyone needed. As the shipwright assessed the damage to the Ekta, Pierce brought his damp clothing and boots out onto the deck to dry in the sun. Nico stood by the railing, draping his own damp clothing over it.

  “Mornin’,” Pierce greeted him.

  “Bonjour, Pierce.”

  Pierce threw his coat over the railing and untied the leather cord around his neck. “I’m sorry you lost your boat, lad.” He reached into his coat pocket for the dragonfly key. “Didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  Nico eyed him. His bright blue eyes spoke of the distress he felt about the loss of his boat. He had traveled nearly around the world on board that vessel, and Pierce figured he likely had many memories connected to it.

  Nico looked toward the crew of the Ekta. “It was worth it. You were right about them being in trouble, and if we hadn’t come for them, they would’ve died. What is a boat compared to a life?”

  Pierce could have kissed him.

  Over Nico’s shoulder, Pierce spotted Sees Beyond on the small island in the distance.

  “You’re a good lad,” he said to Nico, slipping the thread through a hole in the key and retying it.

  Pierce had a dingy lowered and he rowed it out to the island that stretched across the clear ocean. He dragged the boat inland and approached Sees Beyond, who sat cross-legged under the shade of a single palm tree. Her back was turned, but it appeared she was meditating.

  “Good morning, Pierce,” she greeted without looking at him.

  “Speakin’ to your spirits, eh?”

  “They’re not my spirits. A soul belongs to no one once it is freed from the body.”

  Pierce remembered Professor Raphael Brooke and his claim to be able to catch souls inside his Wraith Insulator. “I see. Have they, erm, said anything?”

  Although Pierce had had more than his fair share of experience with the supernatural, he always felt out of his depth when inquiring about this sort of thing.

  “I have relayed to them what you told us. They will search for answers from other spirits. What they are certain of is that our ship will need significant repairs.”

  Pierce hissed. “Really? Do you think she’ll get us to France?”

  “France?” She stood. “Whatever for?”

  Pierce sighed deeply. “You and the crew aren’t the only ones I had visions about. My other mate, Robert Blackbird, is also in trouble. I have to get to him.”

  “This witch, Freya, is drawing you in, just as you said,” Sees Beyond reminded, moving toward him with concern. “We need to get the Ekta repaired and return you to your home and family.”

  “I can’t abandon him, Sees,” he argued. “What happened with you and the Sea Warriors is proof of how real the threat is. If I don’t go to him, he’ll die.”

  She considered him for a long moment, giving him the opportunity to get a real look at her.

  Sees Beyond remained as flawless as ever. She stood before him as beautiful a person as he’d met ages ago. She was a woman with wisdom in her soul and youth in her skin—which glowed like a charm in the sunlight. Although their romantic history together had been short, it had also been filled with deep conversations, intimate passions, and happy memories. She was his first love, and he had wanted her for a wife, but like Frederica Katz, they had both led completely different lives. At one point during their time together, Sees Beyond told him they were never meant to be, for his place was on land, while hers would always be with the sea. Pierce had accepted that she did not hold the same sentiments for him that he did for her, and eventually he left the Ekta.

  “You’re a fool to do this,” she said. “Even to come for us. It’s foolish of you.”

  “Never did have much sense in me,” he replied.

  She snorted. “The spirits really did want us to find you on that transport ship. Someone is watching over you, Pierce. I . . . I have to believe that.”

  “I hope so, love. How is Tarak?”

  “He’s fine,” she said with tenderness. “He is nearly fifteen now and will be joining me next year at sea.”

  She touched Taisia’s wedding ring and held it up to look at it. “How is Taisia? I miss her so.”

  “She’s well. We had another child, Lydia. She’ll be four this year.”

  Sees Beyond placed the ring down and gently pressed it against his chest. “Keep this close to your heart. Taisia is your soulmate, and she must stay with you at all times, especially in your darkest hour.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It Isn’t Too Late

  They stood deep in the Hawaiian forest, surrounded by lush trees, the sounds of the wildlife surrounding them. Nona’s heart melted like liquid glass when she met her new grandson. He was perfect in every way imaginable, even down to his tiny, pointed ears. She once asked her mother why she didn’t seem more elf-like herself. Élie told her it was due in part to her being born of a human mother and raised among humans. Her grandson had been born of an elf mother, and he would be raised with his kind. Therefore, the boy would inherit more elf qualities.

  The bébé rested comfortably in his mother’s loving arms, wrapped in a blanket patched together with soft fabrics. Seeing him brought Nona to tears. She had cried with each new coming of her grandchildren, yet, strangely, her emotions upon looking at this child ran much deeper.

  “Would you care to hold him?” Aleta offered.

  Nona and Jasper had only just learned Aleta’s name. They had not seen her since she was with their son, Joaquin, at Pierce and Taisia’s wedding. In fact, it wasn’t until that morning that they had found out she had been with child all these years. Nona’s father admitted that Aleta had wanted to surprise them.

  And surprise them, she did!

  “Oui, s’il te plaît!” Nona exclaimed.

  Nona gently enfolded the infant in her arms and held him in her loving embrace. An overwhelming sense of familiarity washed over her. It almost felt as though she had met this child before.

  “He is a wonderful child,” Durothil said proudly.

  He stood beside Nona’s mother, whose eyes were glossy with delight.

  Nona stroked the bébé gently on the forehead. He slept so soundly. She felt compelled to hum a lullaby to him, the same hymn she’d hummed to her own sons.

  Jasper stroked the infant on the head with his thumb. “What’s the lad name?”

  “Foster,” Aleta announced.

  “Is this him?” asked Taisia, approaching with her children.

  “It is,” Nona answered with a sniff. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

  Taisia looked upon the child and touched her chest. “Oh, he is. Very much so.”

  The other grandchildren surrounded Nona, wanting a look.

  In that moment, everything was nearly perfect and the whole family was together, save for one.

  Nona tried not to let her sorrow about her missing son surface in her expression. Taisia could not contain her sorrow so well. As she looked upon the infant, her smile left her.

  “Are you all right, Ta
isia?” Durothil asked her.

  She tilted her chin up to him. “Sorry? Da. I am fine. I miss my husband.”

  “There. There,” Jasper consoled, wrapping his arm around her. “We all miss him.”

  “I wish I could have gone with him,” she said mournfully.

  Nona touched Taisia’s pregnant belly. “I know you do, but they need you more than he does.”

  * * *

  Élie walked alongside her true love, Durothil, as they made their way through the tropical forest. In her arms, she carried the family’s newest member, Foster. He was awake and making gurgling noises.

  “So, Joaquin has returned to us,” she noted while looking deep into the bébé’s bright green eyes. “He is going to have such an extraordinary life.”

  “We’ll make certain he is well taken care of,” Durothil promised. “Should we tell our daughter and her husband?”

  “I believe Nona has already sensed the connection. We shall tell her someday. Perhaps after Pierce returns.”

  “Are you sure he will return? It was foolish to allow him to leave.”

  “You don’t understand the kind of visions he was having, Durothil. They were true predictions that would have gotten much worse the more he avoided them. The guilt alone would have broken Pierce’s spirit and killed the man he is.”

  They could hear the sound of the waterfall the closer they got to it.

  “You have yet to answer my question,” the elf pressed.

  “Am I sure he’ll survive?” Élie said with a hint of frustration, mostly with herself. “In truth, I am unsure.”

  Élie thought about the prediction she had chosen to show Taisia. The child had never fully understood the ways of the otherworldly. As a result, she seemed satisfied that her husband would return to her. Unfortunately, it was only one out of a handful of outcomes. Since Pierce’s fate string wasn’t viable any longer, Pierce could perish at any moment. The version Élie revealed to Taisia was the most serene version. The others, however, were met with pain, fear, regret, heartache, great sorrow, and above all else, death.