Westhaven by Rowan Erlking (best sci fi novels of all time TXT) 📕

Bredin Sefesher went over to that man to address that question as the others passed along the skirts to an inn to at least rest their feet.

It was evening before they prepared to start again.

Outside of Wendora was a small village where they would stop for the night. Loid had already gone ahead, as did Luis, Soin and Lanona. The Sea Fisher and his group of southern merchants carting hidden weapons with them were already there waiting at the inn. As Key’s group departed Wendora, they exhaled a sigh of relief to have avoided an incident. And when they arrived in the village, they spotted Loid out in the village square performing on his lyre for coins.

What happened then came as fast as a tornado. Those around them hardly knew what had hit them, though Key moved as if he were riding the wind.

First was the approach of an automobile. Second it stopped, and the driver hopped out. It was a blue-eye decorated as a captain, yet with the older face of a man perhaps ten years toward retirement. He lifted his finger and pointed at Loid, saying in a loud voice, “A Bekir man! What are you doing here?”

The Sky Child bore down on Loid as the Bekir man stared, pulling back his lyre to protect it.

The locals scattered like leaves in the gust. And just as the demon was about to lay his bare hand on the lake minstrel, his hand abruptly dropped off, blood issuing like a fountain.

In the lantern light, the shining blade between them shone red as the captain howled, clenching the stump with his other hand.

Loid jumped back to put as much space between them, though Key pointed the sword up to the captain’s neck.

“Demon, you are dead!”

Captain Lugan staggered back, staring at the savage glare of his attacker. A flicker of recognition passed across his eyes, and he gasped. “The boy.”

The captain reached into his coat for a pistol, but the crack of earlier not from that weapon caused oozing blood to spring from his chest.

Tiler rushed over. His smoking pistol remained open for another shot.

Key swung around and chopped into the demon’s neck. And though it did not behead the demon in first slice, the captain toppled, staring up at the man who had killed him—unable now to utter his name.

“What was that?” Lanona rushed out.

Luis ran after her, grabbing her by the arm. He held her back. Yet, her view of the scene was graphic enough. She cringed as she watched the demon meet his demise, pulling away.

Telerd approached the demon with Loid. They peered down at the captain that had burned their village to the ground. They stood right next to Key. He breathed hard, his sword in his fist.

Patting Key’s shoulder, Tiler looked over to the villagers. “We had better go. I don’t think we can stay here now.”

Though there was no Sky Child presence in that village, the influence in Wendora was still looming over from the west. The late travelers nodded, gazing towards the long stretch of highway.

However, Key peered at the automobile then back at the body. “I have an idea.”

Prodding the body first to make sure the Sky Child was dead, Key then reached in and groped the captain’s pockets for keys. There were none, but then Key looked up and nodded to the automobile. With a long stride, he stepped over the body and went to the open door of the machine. The keys were still in the ignition. With another nod, he climbed into the driver’s seat and felt around for the lever to the trunk in the back. The knob was under the steering column near the lights. Pulling on it, he heard the catch release. Then he hopped out of the car.

Waving to Telerd, he said, “Help me lift the body into the trunk.”

Telerd stared. “What are we doing?”

Tiler even held back. “We aren’t stealing that thing, are we?”

Key nodded, reaching under the dead captain’s arms to lift him. “That’s exactly what we are doing. It is night, we can drive without anyone noticing we aren’t Sky Children. Besides, we need to quickly dispose of this body or else this village will be in trouble. Now come on and grab his ankles. Whatever you do, don’t touch his skin, just in case he’s still alive.”

“The demon is dead,” Rainold said, grabbing the ankles himself, heaving the captain’s legs off the ground.

Tiler jumped in to heft up his middle.

By then Telerd and Loid also started to help, though they both shook their heads since Key was acting crazy again.

“You…can never…be…too careful.” Key hefted the body’s top half into the trunk, panting as he did. “Gads, he’s heavy.”

Rainold pulled in the legs, folding them up. As Tiler pushed the rest of the body in, the others backed off. Once done, Key closed the trunk lid and secured it. He then turned to speak to the others. “Ok. Get your packs. I’m driving.”

“Do you even know how?” Telerd asked, though the others did exactly as he had asked, grabbing each one of their packs and stuffing them in the center of the automobile.

Key walked around and climbed into the driver’s seat, peering everything over. He then looked up at Telerd who had followed him and nodded. “I can remember what the driver did. It may take some practice, but I am sure I can do it. It’s not like we are going to drive into Stiltson. Just straight along the road for a while.”

As the young men all claimed seats in the vehicle, Luis walked up to them, glancing back at the villagers as he did. Leaning in to the driver’s side, he said, “You’re going to arrive before all of us if you take that thing.”

Nodding, Key pulled on his seat belt. “I know. We’ll wait near the bay. There are docks there full of fish mongers packing and selling their stock. We’ll hide out there.”

Luis pulled his head back out. “Ok. But if you can, find the Sea Fisher’s boat. You know the code phrase he gave us.”

“Yeah.” Taking in a breath, Key set his hands on the steering wheel, reading over all the markings on his dash and then on the handles.

“Don’t drive it too fast,” Luis added.

Key cast up a look and shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Stop if you get tired,” Luis continued.

“We’ll stop before that,” Key replied. He looked back towards the trunk. “We have a body to dispose of.”

“Do it far from here,” Luis added, giving Key a hard look.

“Of course.”

And with that, Key started up the engine, adjusted the mirrors like he had seen the general’s driver do so many times, took in a breath as he recalled the next step and followed it, taking the car out of park. As he gently pressed his foot to the gas pedal, the third human driven automobile started back down the road, turning around to go towards Stiltson. The villagers watched it, even as its taillights shrank in the distance as tiny red pin pricks and was gone.

Key’s group of men arrived at the outer walls of Stiltson City on foot when the morning star was still up and the first light had started to turn the sky amber. The clouds had red on them, glowing brighter with each step. They walked past the soldiers at the human gates into the southernmost edge near the sea. Over there, the ground was covered in rows of foot-thick woven reed mats. And the further into the city they walked, the more the ground rocked with their steps. It took a while for them to realize that they were no longer walking on land—but by that time they had crossed into the wharfs, and the fishermen were already out in the bay working to bring in a catch.

They hardly got any looks from the fishermen, though Loid certainly did draw in a few stares. Most regarded them as northern men in simple village trade. Though when the Bekir men bartered for the price of fish, suspicions of their origins increased to a level of amusement.

The group found the larger boats in the harbor closer to the northern side, but the quality of each were vastly different. They ranged from hand built wood boats to giants with steam rising out of their tops.

“Is that boat made out of iron?” Telerd stared at the enormous Sky Child steamer, shaking his head slowly.

“Steel,” Key said as if musing over it also. “And they run like automobiles, with burning engines—though I think that one boils water and the steam makes it go.”

“A steam ship,” Loid said not hiding his awe. “They’ll make anything out of metal, won’t they?”

“How come it isn’t sinking?” Tiler asked.

The three Bekir men turned to him. Both Loid and Telerd looked like they were holding back a guess, but Key said it straight out. “It’s not the weight of the metal so much as the water-tightness of the hull. If the water can’t get in, then it will float, if shaped right.”

“Have you ever made boats?” Tiler and Rainold both looked at Key skeptically.

However, Key shook his head. “No. The Botmeker family made them mostly. Though Telerd’s father made their fishing boat. They’ve also made lake rafts and fishing platforms.”

“But lake boats are different,” Telerd said, gazing up at the ship again.

They walked along the boardwalk up to a jetty where a medium-sized trade ship was docked. It stood out, unique in comparison to most of the other ships because it had oars as well as sails; all them pulled in and tied off. The sails were a stained yellow color, which matched the worn painted railing along the top edge of the vessel. The found the name of the ship printed from left to right with serifs to show that it once was an upstanding craft of business. Yet alongside the newer sail boats and steamships, it looked like a disreputable piece of ancient junk, clawing to remain in existence. Clearly, if this wasn’t the Sea Fisher’s craft, it had to be that of one of his pirate colleagues. It looked so strange to be so quietly at port.

Key marched up to it.

“Hallo!” He cupped his hands to the sides of his mouth. “Hallo! Is anyone aboard?”

“The correct word would be ahoy, land lover.” A stout man stuck his head over the railing. He was shirtless, unwashed, and stubble-chinned with a disgusting number of missing teeth. He didn’t talk like an ignorant lout though. “Whatever business you’ve got, you can take it elsewhere. We’re retired.”

“Then what’s the boat doing in the docks?” Key asked, glancing about.

The man broke into a hearty laugh. “It’s my home! Land lover, what are you doing in Stiltson?”

Key cast the others a tired glance before saying, “Business.”

The man laughed again.

Tiler leaned in to Key’s ear and whispered. “Maybe you better try the pass code.”

Nodding, Key called up again. “Alright then. Ahoy there. We’re looking to buy oysters. Do you know of any good sellers?”

The sailor stiffened and then peered down at them. “Don’t you know oysters are out of the market right now? Even asking for it is trouble, you know. They’re poison this