The Gospel According to Verdu (a Steampunk Novel) (The Brofman Series) by Emilie P. Bush
Authors: Emilie P. Bush
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throwing a tantrum… Lives could be lost.”
Candice was more than a little amazed. She admired her captain for his swagger and bravado, but she’d never really accounted for how astute he really was. She loved Chenda like a daughter, and often displayed the instinct a mother lion had to protect her cub, so she still had the urge to chase after her. However, Captain Endicott’s words made more sense, even if there were still a number of holes in his plan.
Candice’s questions all rolled out at once. “Where are we going to look first? What do we do if we can’t find him, or find out that he’s too far ahead and has disappeared into the empire? What if—”
The captain silenced her by placing a thick finger over her lips. “Enough,” he said calmly. “Honestly, woman, you can worry a topic to death. When we get to the next obstacle we’ll fly around it, but until then, we won’t borrow trouble. In fact, we’re hardly changing the plan we had a few hours ago—to send another shipment of seeds to the Tugrulian resistance, with you supervising the mission. It’s just that we’re going to do it a whole lot faster and look for my errant first officer and his deckhand wife on the way. Relax, babe. Focus on keeping your lunch off the deck of my ship.”
As The Poor Man’s Bounty disappeared back toward the west, Chenda began to panic. Bobbing like a bread crumb waiting to be gobbled up by some giant fish, the girl who had spent so much of her life alone discovered a whole new and hellish meaning to the word. She swam a few strokes and quickly gave up as there was no land in sight, and she would just tire herself swimming toward nothing. In every direction there was water, and no hint of anything else.
She shook with anger at how foolish she had been with her trust. She should have listened to her instinct and evicted that tagalong from her boat straight away—before they were out of sight of the coast. She realized her gut had been right about Trygan, and he was bad news.
When her anger over her own foolishness had run its course, she realized she was still shaking. The water was chilly, and the rising sun did not promise to heat it up by much. She was cold, and she was stuck. At least the chattering of her teeth meant she would not be able to grind them in frustration.
As the minutes passed, her thoughts became harder and harder to collect. She searched the elements around her, looking for another ship near enough to call to, a bit of driftwood to climb up on, or any trace of land, but she found nothing useful. Even the seafloor was depressingly far below her.
The cold was a constant distraction. If her power had not been so recently depleted, she thought she might have been able to pull an air bubble around her to insulate her from the cool water. Or if she weren’t soaked to the bone, she might just have heated the water by calling some fire to her, but there was no way she could coax a spark to flair, and there was nothing to burn anyway. Even fully charged, she would not have been able to do either for very long.
She struggled for what felt like hours, treading water to keep warm and cramping in the cold when she stopped. When the sun was directly overhead, she knew she needed some reprieve from the chill. Releasing her power as slowly as she could, she slipped a cushion of air into the water all around her, separating her from the sea. It was agonizingly difficult to control the air as it struggled against the surface of the water. She pulled herself into a ball, her knees to her chest, trying to make the bubble as round and small as possible, hoping to use less effort and make the reprieve last a little longer. The lingering ache from the cold made thinking straight that much harder. Her concentration was as slippery as ice, and the bubble kept sliding away from her, and she was drenched in the chilly seawater before she could even start to get warm.
Some gift , she thought. I can’t even save
Candice was more than a little amazed. She admired her captain for his swagger and bravado, but she’d never really accounted for how astute he really was. She loved Chenda like a daughter, and often displayed the instinct a mother lion had to protect her cub, so she still had the urge to chase after her. However, Captain Endicott’s words made more sense, even if there were still a number of holes in his plan.
Candice’s questions all rolled out at once. “Where are we going to look first? What do we do if we can’t find him, or find out that he’s too far ahead and has disappeared into the empire? What if—”
The captain silenced her by placing a thick finger over her lips. “Enough,” he said calmly. “Honestly, woman, you can worry a topic to death. When we get to the next obstacle we’ll fly around it, but until then, we won’t borrow trouble. In fact, we’re hardly changing the plan we had a few hours ago—to send another shipment of seeds to the Tugrulian resistance, with you supervising the mission. It’s just that we’re going to do it a whole lot faster and look for my errant first officer and his deckhand wife on the way. Relax, babe. Focus on keeping your lunch off the deck of my ship.”
As The Poor Man’s Bounty disappeared back toward the west, Chenda began to panic. Bobbing like a bread crumb waiting to be gobbled up by some giant fish, the girl who had spent so much of her life alone discovered a whole new and hellish meaning to the word. She swam a few strokes and quickly gave up as there was no land in sight, and she would just tire herself swimming toward nothing. In every direction there was water, and no hint of anything else.
She shook with anger at how foolish she had been with her trust. She should have listened to her instinct and evicted that tagalong from her boat straight away—before they were out of sight of the coast. She realized her gut had been right about Trygan, and he was bad news.
When her anger over her own foolishness had run its course, she realized she was still shaking. The water was chilly, and the rising sun did not promise to heat it up by much. She was cold, and she was stuck. At least the chattering of her teeth meant she would not be able to grind them in frustration.
As the minutes passed, her thoughts became harder and harder to collect. She searched the elements around her, looking for another ship near enough to call to, a bit of driftwood to climb up on, or any trace of land, but she found nothing useful. Even the seafloor was depressingly far below her.
The cold was a constant distraction. If her power had not been so recently depleted, she thought she might have been able to pull an air bubble around her to insulate her from the cool water. Or if she weren’t soaked to the bone, she might just have heated the water by calling some fire to her, but there was no way she could coax a spark to flair, and there was nothing to burn anyway. Even fully charged, she would not have been able to do either for very long.
She struggled for what felt like hours, treading water to keep warm and cramping in the cold when she stopped. When the sun was directly overhead, she knew she needed some reprieve from the chill. Releasing her power as slowly as she could, she slipped a cushion of air into the water all around her, separating her from the sea. It was agonizingly difficult to control the air as it struggled against the surface of the water. She pulled herself into a ball, her knees to her chest, trying to make the bubble as round and small as possible, hoping to use less effort and make the reprieve last a little longer. The lingering ache from the cold made thinking straight that much harder. Her concentration was as slippery as ice, and the bubble kept sliding away from her, and she was drenched in the chilly seawater before she could even start to get warm.
Some gift , she thought. I can’t even save
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