Dragonfly Warrior by Jay Noel
“I have financial obligations to Lopez and Orsini,” DePaul said. “My associates are assembling on the Albion Isle. There, I can dispatch couriers to make sure Lopez and Orsini's kin receive their promised salaries.”
Enapay asked, “What about me and the Machine Boy? I don't think it's safe to bring Marcel to any country in Europa. Iberia would love to get their hands on him.”
Marcel wiggled nervously in the corner of the control room.
“I've already thought of that,” DePaul replied. “We will stick to my original plan. On the Isle, outside the capital of Londin, we have built a well-protected safe house.”
“Who is we?” Enapay's right eyebrow arched.
“The Enlightenment Guild. We're a secret society comprised of some of the greatest thinkers and scientists in all the world. In fact, the Guild financed this whole operation. The members all realize how important Marcel is to the world, and they have pledged to insure he is no longer exploited for his powers.”
Enapay crossed his arms, seemingly satisfied with the old man's reply.
“Zen, I grossly underestimated you. I apologize,” said DePaul. “Would you consider accompanying us on our mission to the Albion Isle? We could use your talents.”
Zen's canvas backpack carried the remnants of the Sky Blade. The sour taste in his mouth had refused to dissipate one bit in three days. In fact, his anger swelled with each waking moment. If his mission had been to find the enchanted sword, he would bring the feeble remains home.
“I am sorry, Professor. I cannot go with you. I have a new mission of my own.”
Enapay raised his arms in mock resignation. “What could that be?”
“My quest was to bring the Sky Blade back to Nihon, to my father. I will get the truth from him before I throw the shards of the worthless relic at his feet.”
“Your father?” Enapay looked bewildered.
Zen's insides twisted at having to admit his lineage. There was a time when such a declaration would have made him proud. “Yes. My father is the king of Nihon.”
Enapay threw his head back. “If you're the prince, why didn't you come to Agrios with a whole armada and platoons of troops? Or at least with your kingdom's riches? That kind of power could have come in handy, oh, maybe a couple dozen times.”
“I was put on a Sacred Quest, stripped of my royalty and privilege.” The shame felt too much to bear. “I must return to Nihon.”
DePaul stepped forward with a grave look in his eyes. “Young man, your father is King Hideaki?”
Zen nodded.
“You must come with us,” DePaul said. “The Guild believes your father is engaging in dangerous scientific experiments in Koreya. He's committing atrocities. We are formulating a plan of action to stop him.”
Zen had no time to contemplate his father's scientific transgressions. His father's secrets were indeed dark, and he intended to learn all of them. “I am going home.”
“What for? Those ragged pieces are hardly the magical weapon you were bestowed to return to your people.” The constant grin Enapay wore slid away. “Like your enchanted amulet. It glowed every time you were near carbsidian, and it's also reacting to the dark metal of the Sky Blade. That sword might have been forged from star rock, but it's not mystical. Your quest is over.”
Zen felt his fists tighten. “I was sent on this fool's errand. I fought and killed for my country. I need to know why my father rewarded my victories by casting me out. Nearly everything I believe in, everything I know...has been a lie. This is not over for me.” He turned to DePaul. “If my father is committing further sins against mankind, I will stop him.”
Enapay leaned forward, his eyes glaring. “Zen, don't go home. Maybe someday you can return. Stay with us. Help me protect the Machine Boy. Neva would have wanted you to stay with us.”
“I am sorry. I cannot.”
“How will you get back to Nihon?” DePaul asked Zen.
“I saw foreign ships in the main harbor on the way to Geller's estate. I am sure Kai's ship is still docked there.”
Zen pivoted to face Enapay, the ache in his left shoulder throbbing when he moved. He took hold of Enapay's reluctant arm and gave him the traditional tribal handshake.
Marcel remained hunched in the corner of the room. Zen stepped over to the child and bent down. “I am sorry, Machine Boy. I too lost my mother. It hurts now, but it will become easier with time.” He saw himself in the child, and the fire in his chest flared again. “I will avenge you, Machine Boy. I promise you.”
ENAPAY KNOCKED ON THE METAL door before opening it. Marcel didn't move as he continued lying on his back with his hands folded behind his head. The boy stared up at the ceiling, his vacant eyes drifting and failing to focus on anything above.
“We're going now.” Enapay approached with apprehensive steps before sitting on the bed.
“I know.” Marcel kept his soft gaze upwards. “I can feel the boat moving. Is Zen gone?”
Enapay replied with a nod. “Are you hungry?”
The Machine Boy remained silent.
“I can ask McMillan to cook something. You don't want me near a stove. I'm liable to burn the Triton down.” Enapay waited for a response, but got none.
Enapay's doubt hung in the air like a bad stink, and he struggled to find the right words to say to a child who only days ago lost his mother. He opened his mouth and blurted the first thing that came to his mind.
“You know, your mother and I met under the strangest of circumstances. She and Zen were both captured by a menacing pirate. I swooped down from my airship and saved them by blowing up a bunch of stuff.”
This seemed to break Marcel from his trance, and the child looked at him with familiar emerald eyes.
“Later, the raiders shot my airship right out of the sky. Neva came to rescue me when the pirates came to finish me off. Your mother saved my life.”
Enapay blinked to prevent the tears forming from his eyes. The kid's face was still red and swollen from crying, and maybe it was too soon to talk about Neva. He sighed, unsure if he was breaking the ice or making things worse for the boy.
“My mother was a soldier,” Marcel finally said. “Pistoleer in the Francian army.”
“That's what I heard. When she and Zen were captured, she was forced to fight in a duel. I wasn't there, but my tribesman witnessed your mother dispatch a nasty bandit in a deadly contest.”
Marcel sat up, and he smiled.
Enapay felt relief; the kid didn't seem to hate him after all. The future seemed uncertain, and he questioned if he was ready for the responsibility of raising a child. In the meantime, he was thankful that Shannon McMillan was there to help him. She possessed the motherly instinct he lacked, and Marcel seemed naturally drawn to her even shortly after meeting her.
Despite his uneasiness of having to be the boy's custodian for life, he considered Neva's trust in him an honor. Enapay secretly longed to take him back to his village, where his wrecked Dragonfly remained. If Marcel did have mystical powers with anything mechanical, he would love nothing more than to see just how real the child's abilities were.
Marcel said, “My mother was fast.”
Enapay nodded. “She had a dead eye too.”
The boy's chin dropped. “She told me something before she...died.”
“I remember that she whispered in your ear.”
''She wants me to help him to stand.”
Enapay watched the Machine Boy's chin quiver, and he considered Neva's cryptic message. ''Who needs help standing?”
Marcel shrugged. “I don't know. It doesn't make any sense.”
''Life is full of mysteries,” Enapay said. ''It must be important. Whatever Neva meant, I'm sure it will become clear in time.”
For the rest of the night until they both fell asleep, they exchanged stories of the great woman that brought life to Marcel and saved Enapay in more ways than he could count.
THE DOCKS WERE PRACTICALLY EMPTY save for a few merchants traipsin
When he climbed on board the ship, the startled crew stopped their work and stared at him. Low whispers of doubt among the crew floated up to Zen's ears.
“I am Kanze Zenjiro, your prince. I am taking command of this ship, and you will take me home to Nihon.” His voice was full and confident, but he felt awkward from their incessant stares. “We depart at once.”
The men were frozen, unsure of what to do. It took several moments for one of them to step forward. The crew member looked sturdy and strong, and he shrugged his shoulders before addressing Zen.
“I'm sorry, but you don't look like the warrior prince. You look like a pirate.”
With Zen's long hair loose and wild and his dirty clothing, the sailor's assessment was probably accurate.
“What is your name?” Zen asked him.
“Maeda. I am the navigator.” Maeda's thin brows furrowed. “What of Master Kai?”
Zen tore the katana from its wooden scabbard. The crew, including Maeda, recoiled with a gasp. “You no longer serve that dog.” He held it up for display. “Kai proved to be a villain, so his death will please you.”
Maeda looked unmoved. “You could easily have stolen it. Maybe he got himself killed. All the foreigners fled the castle and rushed back to the harbor. They spoke of a bloody massacre.” He spun around to gather the muttering support from his crew. “Prince Kanze Zenjiro is the greatest warrior in all of Nihon. He is known as the Dragonfly Warrior, he who bears the crest of the Kanze on his armor.” He scrutinized Zen with squinted eyes. “You look like a beggar, more fit to clean the latrines than be the prince of Nihon.”
The crew broke into wild laughter. Maeda tossed his head back to release another hearty bellow; Zen slashed the sword across the man's waistline. It would have been a deadly blow had he fully extended his arm.
Instead, the leather belt holding up Maeda's pants tore in two, dropping his blue trousers. Thankfully, the navigator saved further humiliation by wearing thin shorts underneath the pants now lying around his ankles.
This made the crew roar even louder, and even Maeda laughed at himself after pulling up his pants.
“I have a new quest,” Zen said. “We leave for Nihon right now.
WHERE DO I BEGIN?
I'm pretty sure I'm going to forget some people, but I will try my very best to thank everyone that's played a part in helping me get Dragonfly Warrior out to the world.
To my long time blogging buddies that read my early drafts and offered their expertise: Mary Pascual, Kimberly Wadycki, Cynthia Clubbs, Michael Ignacio, and Michael Offutt, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
The blogging community is my home away from home. I appreciate all the love and support you give me and all the other writers out there.
Big thanks to my editors: Matt, Martha, and especially Neely Bratcher. Thanks for smoothing the rough spots and making this book all spiffy and shiny.
I must acknowledge Jennifer Howard, Mary Pax, Cambria Hebert, and Jennifer Pringle. When things fell apart, you were all there to give me the encouragement and advice I needed. To all the authors at Hydra, I'd like to give all of you a big high-five.
I'm amazed by the artistic talent of Enggar Adirasa. Thank you for bringing my story to life with your amazing skills.
And finally, I want to thank fellow writer J. Maria for her telling me like it is. Your ideas helped me out when I had painted myself into a corner.
Jay Noel was born in New York but lives in Missouri with his family. He received a degree in English from Southeast Missouri State University. Jay is a prolific blogger, and he’s a contributor to CultureBrats.com and inkPageant.com.
Find Jay Noel online at www.jaynoel.com