Upon the frigid steel floor the strong arms had locked around Fern. The body pressed down upon her encapsulated arms as she struggled to get free from the vice like grip. She was furious! She’d managed to abate the Captain's lust just to be taken by one of his crew, this couldn't happen. No, she wouldn't allow it. She’d do everything she could to get out of this situation until she had no energy, no breath left within her. She was a defender, she would fight.
Fern was ready to bite, spit, and perform whatever she had to do to protect herself. Her pent up anger that had been kept buried for the last few days was smoldering. The flames progressively awakening from their slumber were quickly rising through her body. She gritted her teeth, feeling the cold metal floor sticking to her cheek as she forced her eyes to their outermost corner to look at the face above her own.
Her ire was suddenly stifled as in the faint light she recognized the person that held her. She stopped struggling and felt herself being released, enabling her to turn over and stare. Widening her eyes to take in every bit of his appearance, her jaw unwillingly dropped. She knew his smell, so familiar, so like home, the welcoming grin upon his face sealed it all and she almost screamed out in joy.
“Elm!” she cried, her eyes full of happiness at the sight of him.
His grin became even broader and his eyes sparkled with joy themselves as he jumped to his feet. She continued to lie on her back looking up stunned and wordless, until he grabbed her arms and pulled her up too.
She doubted she’d ever felt such elation before in her life. Her mind was singing and dancing in delirious delight. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest, breathing in the smell of moss and vegetation as she hugged him. The sinewy arms became gentle as they slid around and held her; a light kiss was dropped upon her head. She could feel his breath softly moving her hair, sending goose bumps along her body as she quivered in ecstasy.
Looking up, smiling as if no other occasion could make her so happy, she stumbled out words. “How? When? Why?”
Elm laughed at her as he looked down into the bewildered eyes that shone through the dim light of the covered gazebo. His face was filled with warmth and indelible love, his eyes glistened, the pupils black pearls as he looked at her in adoration.
“We traded goods for transportation on this ship. We arrived late last night to search for Oak.” His face briefly changed at the last comment but he quickly smiled once more as he refocused upon her. “I didn't expect to find another traveller on board from our camp.”
“I am not a traveller I am a captive! Kidnapped by the Captain's crew for his pleasure and forced to be on the ship to entertain him.”
Elm's eyes darkened and his face grew tight with anger. “He's forced himself on you. I'll kill him!”
His eyes were already tearing apart the gazebo as she could see him mentally go through his actions to destroy the Captain.
“No, no! He hasn't touched me yet. He's respected my request to become more used to him and my new surroundings. Don't even think of killing him or we'll all be dead and Oak will never be saved.”
In the dim light Fern could see Elm's face twitch and was unsure if the anger was for the Captain or of her concern for Oak.
“How many defenders are on board?”
“Twenty.” His reply was brief but she could feel his body vibrate slightly from his emotion.
“And your plan to save Oak, when is that to happen?”
She looked eagerly into his face and saw it was now strained further, his jaw raised a little higher so she couldn't see his eyes. Without warning she was pushed away; quickly she regained her balance but was surprised by the immediacy of the gesture. Stunned, she stood still wanting to pout, to cry and ask him why he no longer wanted her in his arms. She didn't sense the irony of the situation.
Elm turned away from her, her fingers itched to touch him, she wanted to smell him; it was as if he brought with him all the comforts of home. Staring at the rigid back she rooted herself and suppressed her want and waited for his response.
“Pine leads us in pursuit of an airship that carries Oak but as yet there is no plan.”
Her heart almost jumped. Oak was on the airship and they were following it. Luck was with her, she would see him again. Elm turned back to her so quickly she staggered backward a little. In the shaded light she saw his blatant anger and she knew she was the reason why.
“I must return downstairs. We're not allowed onto the deck after noon.”
Her body felt wrenched. The question she'd asked herself many times before, whether Elm truly loved her, was answered, she no longer doubted it. His jealously was apparent. His hatred for Oak she realized wasn't only because he'd become leader but because she loved Oak and not Elm. With distress she knew she couldn't correct the wrong. She couldn't transfer the love she felt, it would only be displaced affection and Elm wouldn't accept that. Could she love Elm anyway, when she knew he wanted to destroy Oak, the one she really loved?
Closing her eyes she dispelled the thoughts.
“I'm not allowed on the deck before noon,” she told him, opening her eyes wide at the realization of how manipulative the Captain had been.
His prize was not to be taken from him, especially not by her people. Yet, he couldn't give up the chance of a trade with the Woodlanders for goods. It must have caused him some agitation knowing he was risking losing his treasure and angering the passengers he carried.
“I'll talk to Pine and see what arrangements can be made to rescue you from the Captain.”
Grabbing hold of his arm Fern looked up at him with pleading eyes, she didn't care that she was reducing herself to begging, she didn't care about her pride; she wanted to be saved.
“Yes, please, please do Elm. I want to be with my people. I want to be with you.”
She saw the look of hope spark across his face and immediately dropped her hand from his arm knowing the new error she’d made with her final sentence. The reaction was perceived and a cold expression returned to his face as he fathomed his own error of judgement.
“I'll tell Pine and leave the arrangements to him.”
Fern's face saddened at his remark and expression. Elm had always been her friend and now she'd lost him. Was she so self-destructive that she was to lose everyone she cared for? She did care for Elm, she wanted him in her life, she could see that now. Crumpling in distress, with tears perching upon her bottom lashes she saw a look of remorse flash across his face as he turned away.
“You must go before they start to look for you. It won't take them long to figure out you are under the gazebo they are building. Be careful of the tools, go through this way.”
He gently pushed her along and with docility, she obliged. Then with an agile squat he went down to the ground where the tarp fell, listened, and pulled the tarp up.
“Go quickly.” He said as he pushed her out and dropped the tarp before she could say anything else.
She stood confused, her lower lip quivering, she wanted to cry loudly, weep for all of her losses; her home, the ones she loved, her friends, her freedom. She couldn't. She heard movement further down the deck, so she quickly ran to the fore of the ship. There, she leaned against the rail once more, gazing ahead, out across the water, water that she didn't see because the visions of her home and clan swam before her instead. Her tears bowled their way down her cheeks, rolling across her lips and dropped into the lake below her, awash in the water.
It was only a short period of time when she heard footsteps coming toward her but she didn't turn around. “Ma'am I need to return your bowl to the kitchen. Do you have it here?”
She still looked straight ahead. “I left it near the large tarp. I was sat against the wall there.” Her voice quavered as she tried to regain her self control.
“Thank you ma'am.” There was silence behind her but no movement. “Is everything alright?” The voice of Ensign Jones held concern. Although she didn't turn she could see his face, the frown, the soft lips wanting to deploy words of kindness and sympathy. It made Fern feel wretched that she caused him to feel that way, but she couldn't face him and allay his fears because her tears were still abundant, and she was sure a huge sob was going to push its way out soon.
“Yes, everything is alright Ensign Jones,” she replied more formally than she meant to and softening her voice she continued, “but thank you for your concern. I...I just need to be alone for a while.” She heard feet move slightly.
“If ever you need me Miss Fern I am here for you.” His words were softly spoken, almost a whisper but her sharp ears heard them and her heart swelled at the thought of this young boy's gallantry. Her tears flowed more knowing she had turned away yet another friend.
Her emotions were brief as she heard Ensign Jones leave and remembered Elm was still under the tarp upon the gazebo that was being built. Had he left yet or was he in the process of leaving? Would Ensign Jones run into him? In which case would Elm get rid of him to protect himself from the Captain’s wrath?
Turning quickly she looked to where the boy was. He'd already found the bowl upon the floor but Elm was not in sight, nor was there any movement from the tarp. A huge sigh came from her, followed by a large hiccup and then another. Now she would have to hold her breath to get rid of them. If only she could hold her breath and be rid of the last two days.
**********
Oak had sought to satisfy his concerns about Blackthorn's safety. He noted Blackthorn was constantly watched by one of Denver's group and saw he'd rested well, the result being that he was more cheerful and hungry that morning.
After his discussion with Denver regarding his conclusions about Kisin and Rancor, being with Blackthorn was on a very different level. Blackthorn went into a lengthy soliloquy about the airship and the great height they were at. His enthusiasm about the distance they'd covered and the amazing view they had of the lake, frothed with delight and inquisitiveness. How did the airship work? Why did it just hang in the air? What made it move? Silently Oak listened to the unanswered questions as Blackthorn happily accepted their rhetorical nature and lack of response.
He spent a few hours with him, politely nodding his head and raising an eyebrow to show he was paying attention, even watching the boy devour his lunch as if he would never see food again and needed to stock up. All the while Blackthorn continued his conversation as if Oak was fascinated by everything he said. Oak couldn't help but smile fondly at him in relief that he'd survived such a terrible injury and that Rancor's trap hadn't taken his life. He was surprised at the change in the boy who only yesterday had tottered on the cliff toward death and yet now was energetically engaging life with new found vigour.
He was relieved to have the opportunity to leave when he saw Blackthorn's body start to droop and the talk that had flowed non-stop since his arrival began to waver and wane. Getting up to his feet he saw the boy's head jerk up in attention at Oak's movement.
“You need more sleep Blackthorn.” He realized this was the first time he'd spoken without a rush of vocal thoughts interrupting him since his arrival. He stared at the tired boy and proceeded. “Get the rest you need to repair your body. I'll leave you and visit you later.” Blackthorn nodded, stumbled to his feet and willingly dropped upon his bed. Blackthorn was asleep before Oak had even exited through the door.
On entering the lounge he saw Denver sat at the window staring out upon the water below. His face was set in a frown and Oak noted that he held a presence of strength and power without even aiming for it. It fell upon him with ease; it was his demeanour, his stance, his aura. Oak's thoughts drifted to Willow, he missed her calmness, her sweet gentle expression, her guidance and words of softly spoken advice. She was the breeze and he was the leaf floating upon it when he was with her. How would she perceive Denver? He knew she would admire him, tell Oak that he was resilient, fair and intelligent, a good person to be in league with.
Striding toward the tussle haired giant with a small smile upon his own face, he saw the eyes alight upon him. Oak slid onto the bench opposite as the thoughtful eyes smiled back at him.
“How is your charge today?” The words were soaked in amusement and Oak knew Denver was once more teasing him about his fatherly behaviour toward Blackthorn. He'd teased him to such an extent that Oak wondered whether he should show such concern for a defender. What kind of leader was he to play father to all of his clan? They were to be given instruction not advice. Was he over stepping the boundaries of leader? What were the boundaries of a leader? Surely empathy for his clan should be one of them but did that make him weak to their enemies? Was this what Denver was trying to tell him without plain insult?
“You think too much!” Denver gave Oak a wink as he jumped at the words and was shocked at having laid himself out so openly. “Don't over analyze, all it does is complicate things. If you didn't care you wouldn't be a leader. That is why they trust and obey you.” Denver's smile was broad but Oak couldn't return it, he felt he'd presented himself as pathetic with his lack of self-assurance.
“Do you really think that no-one questions himself?” The black eyebrows were raised high in surprise as he spoke and scrutinized Oak's face. “Just how perfect do you think a boy is supposed to be?”
“It isn't that I think a boy is supposed to be perfect. It is the fact that as leader, it isn't just your life at risk, but many.”
“And so it has been through the years. Many lives have been lost through the mistakes of leaders but who could know that their plan would be the wrong one to take?” The cool blue eyes looked sombrely at Oak as he continued.
“We go to Kisin, we'll make plans along the way but we don't know if the plans will work. We can only guess and hope. Yes, we'll question whether it is the right plan but without acting upon it how can we ever know?”
“There must be a safe guard then.” Oak replied as if there could be no other answer.
“A safe guard? How do we create a safe guard with no knowledge? It can only be created if you have an idea of what may happen. Tell me Oak, how do we safe guard a situation we know nothing of? Not even where it will take place!”
“The answer is simple. We must attain the knowledge.”
Denver gave a short laugh and looked at Oak, his black hair was shining in the sunlight but his face was not, it was solemn. Oak could sense that Denver was taking in his own appearance, his tanned skin, sun bleached hair. He sensed that Denver thought he had the expression and look of Peter Pan and it irked Oak. He'd read the story and seen the pictures and found Denver's thoughts insulting but he kept calm and quiet seeking the peace that he would often meditate for.
Denver shook his head and gazed away toward the middle of the room as he spoke.
“We'll do our best to gain as much knowledge as we can but we can't be assured of it.”
He was staring at Detroit downing a large beer, slapping the empty glass upon the table when he’d finished, well pleased with himself.
“Perhaps if we can work betrayal into this we can glean more knowledge than we thought.”
He looked back to Oak upon the last words, as Oak's eyes left the very person Denver meant to turn.
“I won't lower my morals for such an attempt,” Oak replied with contempt.
The perfect teeth before him ground down hard upon one another as the massive body lunged toward him.
“Then your morals are too high! This is life we're playing with here, the existence of all of us. Damn your morals, we need to save people and we'll do it in any way possible!”
Oak didn't move. He made no jolt nor showed any fear from the demanding figure before him but instead viewed him passively as he went over what he'd said.
“I understand what you say.” Oak's gaze casually moved from Denver and rested upon Detroit once more. “Perhaps my morals can be...slightly shifted.”
He turned back and watched the smile spread across Denver's face as the huge boy resumed his previous position and sank a little in height and breadth. Denver was definitely an imposing presence and Oak was glad that he was his ally rather than his foe.
“How will this work? Detroit has betrayed all of us in favour of Rancor and serves him. How will you get him to switch sides again? And even if he does how can you trust him? It would give him more credit in Rancor's eyes to feed us false information.”
Denver remained quiet and gave a brief glance to Detroit, dismissed him, and played his fingers upon the empty glass before him. His eyes quickly, mischievously rose to Oak's and a large smile took over his face, showing his white teeth once more as they glinted in the sunlight. He dropped his hand from the glass as he held Oak in his gaze.
“We have the gift–we read minds. We'll know what Detroit is thinking at all times. We just need to know how to persuade him to seek out the knowledge we want. He won't even have to tell us!”
Oak's own smile spread across his face as he felt his own cheeks raise upward wrinkling his eyes that were locked onto Denver's.
“He wouldn't even know we were using him!”
Denver nodded, self-satisfied and confident. They had a plan of action and neither of them would waste any time to set it in motion.