Page 109 of The Sky Pirate's Stowaway
“They’re fully charged!” he exclaimed, his voice rising with wonder. “Blazing hells, they’re practically humming withpower!” He spun around, eyes wild with excitement. “How can this be?”
I remained perfectly still, keeping Murray pinned with my gaze. My mind raced through scenarios, each more disastrous than the last. If Viper discovered Kaspar’s ability, he’d chain him to the engine room forever—or sell him to the highest bidder.
“Exactly what I was wondering, Captain,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.
What the fuck was my plan? I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. My pulse thundered in my ears as panic surged through me. Murray could expose Kaspar with a single sentence. I could try to discredit him, but Viper wasn’t stupid—the evidence was right there, glowing in the engine housing.
I’d faced down pirates and sea monsters without flinching, but this moment—with Kaspar’s fate hanging by a thread—terrified me more than anything I’d encountered in my years in the sky.
“Impossible! Unless…” Viper’s gaze darted from the fluxstones to Kaspar, who had kept unnaturally quiet throughout the exchange. I noticed he was trembling subtly, like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze—imperceptible to most, but not to me. Not anymore.
“No… surely…” Viper strode across the engine room and grabbed Kaspar’s arm, yanking him forward. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to spring. It took everything I had not to rip Viper’s arm off right then and there.
Viper’s eyes narrowed as he studied Kaspar’s face. “A fluxweaver?”
Deny it!I wanted to scream. But one look at Kaspar’s face told the entire story. The truth was written there, plain as day—guilt, fear, and resignation all mingled together.
Viper’s face split into a wide grin. He laughed, a sound like gravel being crushed underfoot. “Well, that was good luck, that we had you on board, wasn’t it, boy?”
Kaspar nodded once, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Shame you took so long to assist us, though.” Viper’s voice hardened, dropping to a dangerous register. “All those men we just lost… they’re dead now. Friends of yours, weren’t they? Might still be alive if you’d revealed your little talent sooner.”
Kaspar’s shoulders slumped, his head hanging lower. The weight of those deaths—deaths that weren’t his fault, not really—crushing him before my eyes.
“Not to worry.” Viper clapped him on the shoulder with false camaraderie. “I’m sure you can make it up to me.”
The implication in those words made my stomach turn.
Suddenly, Viper’s head snapped toward me, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Did you know about this?”
“No, Captain, not at all,” I said, the words coming easily because they were true. A bitter laugh nearly escaped my throat at the irony—the one time I could be completely honest with Viper, and it was about something I wished I’d known all along.
Viper studied my face for a moment longer before apparently deciding I was telling the truth. He turned and walked toward the door, humming a pleasant tune to himself.
Once Viper was gone, I released Murray from my grip and spoke in a low, dangerous voice. “Get out.”
Murray didn’t need to be told twice. He scurried away, slamming the door behind him, Sprocket following on his heels.
The engine room fell silent except for the low, rhythmic hum of the newly charged fluxstones.
I stepped toward Kaspar, who was hastily wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Tears streaked down his freckled face, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
His pain twisted horribly inside me, my earlier anger evaporating. I reached out, but he pushed my hand away half-heartedly.
“Don’t,” he whispered, voice cracking.
His knees buckled, and he slid down the wall to the floor. I followed, my prosthetic leg awkwardly folding beneath me as I slumped beside him against the cold metal.
“He’s right. They’re dead because of me,” Kaspar choked out, staring at his hands. “They died because I was too much of a selfish coward to save them.” His voice rose with anguish. “And now Viper knows anyway! They died fornothing!” He looked at me, eyes red-rimmed and desperate. “I’m going to die on this ship, chained to these engines for the rest of my life unless Viper decides to sell me. And you—you hate me now. I’ve lost everything.”
“I don’t hate you, Kaspar,” I said softly. “I could never hate you.”
“You can barely look at me!”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, the hurt surging back. “We could have faced this together! There’s so much more I could have done if only I’d known! The fact that you don’t trust me—”
“Idotrust you!” Kaspar shot back.
