Abandoned Read online

  Copyright 2016 by Isaac Crowe

  All Rights Reserved

  First Print Edition: June 2016

  Art by Nick Jordon Beja

  Edited by Angela Bernardi &

  Melissa Crowe

  ISBN-13: 978-1533203243

  ISBN-10: 1533203243

  Books in the Outcasts of Velrune series:

  Outcasts of Velrune

  Abandoned

  Reunion

  Outcasts of Velrune:

  Abandoned

  by Isaac Crowe

  CHAPTER ONE

  A tall, thin man, a week late for a shave, loped around the corner of a crumbling building. Beside him, struggling to keep pace, lumbered a short, portly fellow. The tall one’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the crowded street before them. The volume of noise echoing between the buildings nearly drowned out his soft, kind voice as he spoke to the shorter man.

  “Wow, Lambert, this place is busy. Are supplies getting that hard to find out here?”

  Lambert pulled a bit of cloth from his front shirt pocket. Grimacing, he shook the dust out of it before dabbing sweat from his brow.

  “Can’t you see how faded and threadbare their clothes are, Jasper. Material and food for the general public are running low, creating high demand. Soon, even I will succumb to such rags. I suppose after that I will even quit bathing. You won’t be able to tell me from the rest of these poor, dirty people.” He folded and replaced the cloth. “In any event, the crowd is a good thing for us. We should pass with little notice.”

  Apprehensive, they pushed their way into the bustling crowd. The noise of the vendors shouting their wares and the replying customers vying for them grew even louder, making their ears ring. None in the crowd took so much as a second glance at the two men.

  Jasper turned to Lambert. “Do you know who we are looking for?”

  Lambert nodded. “If my information is correct, he is in the second alley on the left.”

  “Then lead the way. I’m not used to such crowds. The sooner we’re done the better.”

  Jasper, used to living in the Council building and its often empty hallways and rooms, became more and more agitated at the constant shoving as they passed through the mass of people. After a particularly hard jolt from behind, he jerked his elbow back to return the favor. He instantly regretted his unusual act of anger when he felt not the contact of soft flesh, but something hard and pointed that resulted in a high pitched yelp from the victim. Jasper spun around to find a ten-year-old boy on the ground with a drop of blood trickling from his nose.

  Surprised, Jasper reached down for the boy. “Sorry, kid, I thought you was one of those rude adults.”

  Scared eyes met his, then switched to his outstretched hands. The boy wiped his nose with the back of his hand before scrambling onto his hands and knees. Grabbing a nearby bag, he jumped to his feet and disappeared in the crowd. Before Jasper could shout after him, Lambert grabbed his arm.

  “Quit messing around, Jasper, the dealer’s right this way.”

  Lambert led Jasper down a side alley to a rickety, wooden booth. The crowd shied away from this area and only two others currently engaged a crude, muscular man sitting behind the booth. Jasper studied the long, ragged scar across the man’s face while they waited for the customers to finish. When they left, Jasper and Lambert stepped forward. The man behind the booth watched them closely from his one good eye.

  “What can I do you for?” The man’s gruff voice matched the badly healed scar. “‘Fraid I ain’t got much left to trade today.”

  Lambert wiped his brow. “Ahh, but we have a special item for you.”

  “Oh? What does the likes of you two have that would interest me?”

  Lambert glanced nervously behind them before leaning forward. “We hear you buy stones.”

  The man rocked back and laughed. “Ha, ha. Good one. I don’t mess with those things, being illegal for anyone but the Council to have and all.”

  Lambert patted his brow. “But…but, I was told by Mr…”

  The man slammed his fist down on the booth cracking one of the boards. “Shush now! You two don’t know much about business do ya. Now, I’ve only got a few bray roots left. They take a lot of work to find so they don’t come cheap. If you want them, show me what you got worth trading for, and we’ll see if we can do business.”

  “But I don’t want bray roots.”

  The man scowled. “Not too many people do. The Council down right hates them, which is why they don’t nose around. Get my drift?”

  “Ohhh, no one pays attention for just bray roots. Jasper, show the man what we have that might be equal those fine bray roots.”

  Jasper stared at Lambert blankly. “Huh?”

  “Show him what’s in your bag, Jasper. Your bag.”

  “Oh, right, the bag.” Jasper reached for the small leather bag he had tied at his waist, except it wasn’t there. In a panic, Jasper felt all around his waist. Eyes wide he faced Lambert.

  “It’s gone!”

  “What?”

  “My satchel’s gone, Lambert.”

  “You left it back in the room?”

  “No, I had it with me.” Jasper retraced his steps in his head. “That kid. That blasted kid!”

  “What kid, Jasper?”

  “The one I knocked over. He didn’t run into me by accident. The rotten thing stole my satchel.”

  Lambert grabbed Jasper’s arms. “You sure you didn’t leave it in the room?”

  Jasper shook his head. “No. That kid stole it for sure. I even saw him grab it off the ground. I just didn’t think it was mine at the time.”

  Lambert turned toward the crowded street. “Which way did he go?”

  “I don’t know. He was a scrawny thing and disappeared in the crowd.”

  “Well, we’ve got to find him, Jasper. That stone is our ticket out.”

  From behind them, a laugh started low and quiet, growing louder and louder. They faced the man in the booth to see him almost falling out of his chair.

  Lambert balled his fists. “This is not funny. We have to find that bag.”

  The trader struggled to regain his composure. “Good luck with that. You two clueless dopes don’t stand a chance against Emerie and her crew.”

  “Who?”

  The laughter stopped and the man scowled once more. “Emerie. She’s the boss of those filthy little brats.”

  “So they’re nothing more than a bunch of kids?”

  “Most of ‘em, but not her. That one’s funny in the head. Way too smart for her age.” The man gave a short laugh. “Hell, way too smart for most adults.”

  “Well, where can we find her? Maybe we can get our item back.”

  The man thought for a moment. “Maybe if you tell her you were bringing it to me. You see, she and I have a deal about certain items, and it’s not like her to cross people. Trying to teach those kids right from wrong or the like.” The man gave a short laugh. “Can you imagine that in this day and age?”

  Lambert grew impatient. “So, how do we find her?”

  The man eyed both Lambert and Jasper for several seconds before speaking. “Head to the south side of town where the old trolley line comes to an end. Inside the station you’ll find a funnel near the ticket booth.” The man reached in his pocket and pulled out a thick, round piece of metal. “Drop this in and wait.”

  Lambert held his hand out for the token. “That’s it?”

  The man held the coin over Lambert’s palm. “That’s it as far as making contact. That coin’s got my stamp on it. She won’t ignore it. When you meet her, you remind her I’m the broker in this town, and that stone either comes back to me, or she pays enough for you and me both. You got that?”

  “Deal
.”

  The man dropped the coin in Lambert’s palm. “Deal.”

  Lambert and Jasper turned to head back into the main street. The man laughed behind them.

  “Remember, she’s a strange one.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  A young boy, rubbing at the dried blood under his nose with the back of his hand, ran along a dimly lit tunnel and into a cavernous opening. In his left hand he carried a small satchel. A few children took note of his arrival, but most carried on with their assigned tasks for the day. Some sorted scrap metal by size and density into large piles while others worked on laundry in a pool from a tiny dammed stream.

  The boy shouted as he ran. “Emy! Emy! Look what I got.”

  In his excitement, he tripped over a long, rusted rod laying in his path. He fell to his knees, scraping them, but held tight to the satchel. Slowly, he stood, walking the rest of the way to a long, flat train car. The car, which stood as high as his head, rested on metal rails that ran down another tunnel. On the cart, sat a huge, oddly shaped machine. Next to the machine stood an eight-year-old girl in a white shirt and brown bibs, with brown hair tied in pigtails low in the back. She held a small lantern above her head. The light from the lantern shone into a hole in the machine above her. A second girl, wearing brown coveralls, stood on a short ladder, her upper body in the machine. Her voice echoed from inside.

  “I don’t think I can figure this out, Pea.”

  The girl with the lantern stood on her tippy toes, straining to see farther into the contraption. “Don’t say that, Emy. You know how everything works.”

  Emy chuckled. “Not everything, Pea.”

  The boy, growing impatient, called out again. “Emy, look what I got.”

  “Say, Pea, is that Cavan I hear shouting for me?”

  Pea swung the lantern toward the boy. “Yep, that’s him. He’s got a satchel in his hands.”

  Emy’s voice echoed from inside the machine. “Pea! Light!”

  Pea lifted the light. “Sorry, Emy.”

  “That’s okay, Pea. I think it’s time we take a break.”

  Emy climbed down the ladder and laid a wrench on the train car. Pulling a dirty rag from her back pocket, she tried to wipe away the grease from around her goggles. She managed to remove some, but the rest merely smeared.

  Pea laughed, “You’re really going to need a scrubbing at bath-time tonight.”

  Emy, at thirteen, was only a little taller, than Pea. She removed her goggles.

  “That bad, huh?”

  Pea doubled over with laugher at the clean, white circles left where the goggles had protected Emy’s eyes and face from the dirt and grease.

  Emy shook her head. “Well, at least my hair’s clean.”

  Pea tried to calm herself. Reaching out she pushed a tendril of Emy’s blond hair back under the leather cap that stretched down the sides of her head and clasped under her chin. “I’m not so sure about that…”

  Cavan waved the satchel. “Come on, Emy. I’ve got a live stone. You’ve got to see it.”

  Emy snickered. “Now, Cavan, where would you have come by a saolston.”

  Cavan’s eyes turned away from Emy. “Um, by the dump. The one at the edge of town.”

  “You happened to find an active saolston in the most scavenged dump there is, nicely put away in a waist satchel? Cavan, you tell me straight now, did you steal that?”

  Cavan shifted from foot to foot. “Well…” he hesitated, then rapidly spoke. “They were taking it to Baldric. Once he saw it, he would never sell it to you. It’s worth way too much. I know it is.”

  “They were going to see Baldric? Bring that closer, Cavan.”

  Cavan brought the satchel over to the train car where he untied its knot. Using the end of his shirt, he reached in and pulled out a stone glowing a brilliant blue. The stone was five inches in diameter and seven inches long. Emy’s green eyes filled with excitement.

  “It is an active saolston!”

  Cavan grinned from ear to ear. “See. I told you. It’s a big one too.”

  Emy started to reach for it, then reluctantly stopped herself. “Did the person you took this from see you?”

  Cavan’s smile faded a little as he nodded.

  Emy shook her head. “We need to return this at once.”

  “But, Emy.”

  “No, Cavan. First, we don’t steal from people unless they’ve treated us wrong. Second, if the person you took this from went on to talk to Baldric, he’ll know it was one of us, and that could spell trouble. We need to try and return it. Now give me the satchel.”

  Pea couldn’t tear her focus off the blue stone as Cavan put it back in the satchel and handed it to Emy. “You’re really going to make him take it back, Emy? We try so hard to find those.”

  Emy nodded. “This is not how we do things.” She retied the knot then scanned the cave until she spotted a girl who was about fourteen wearing a clean, but plain dress. “Abigail!”

  The girl put down the basket of clothes she was carrying and looked around. Emy shouted again.

  “Abigail, come here please.”

  The girl saw Emy and jogged over. “Yes, Emerie?”

  “Take Cavan to the market and help him find the person he stole this from.”

  Emerie held the satchel out for Abigail who took it with one hand while placing her other on her hip. “Cavan, you stole this? You know better than that.”

  “But, it’s a live life stone, Abigail”

  Abigail turned to Emerie, “Really?”

  “Yes, a stolen one.”

  Abigail sighed. “I understand.”

  “I knew you would. More importantly, I’m counting on you to work out a trade if you do find them.”

  Abigail clicked her heals together and saluted Emerie. “Yes ma’am, you can count on me.” She lowered her hand. “And if we can’t find them?”

  Emerie smiled slightly. “I guess we will have to hold on to it until we do. Now get going.”

  Abigail grabbed Cavan’s arm and pulled him back the direction he had come. “What were you doing at Traders’ Avenue anyway, Cavan? Emerie’s warned us how dangerous it’s getting.”

  Emerie watched them leave before turning back to the metal machine, placing her goggles back over her eyes. “That stone will allow us to power the train, Pea. Now I really need to get this thing fixed.”

  Pea held the light above her head so it shone into the hole. Emerie picked up the wrench and climbed the ladder. Pea watched until all but Emerie’s feet disappeared inside.

  “Is this really only the engine?”

  Emy’s voiced echoed. “Yep. Wait till you see the whole ship.”

  Pea moved the light away from the hole to get a better view of the rest of the machine. A loud ‘clang’ reverberated on the metal.

  “Pea!”

  Pea swung the light back. “Sorry, Emy.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jasper and Lambert stood outside the entrance to the dilapidated trolley station. A third figure, a woman wearing a dark green hooded cape over snug fitting black pants and shirt, stood with them. She studied the pair of doors before them. The hinges on both were bent and broke, but the left stood a foot ajar.

  The three had surveyed the building a little earlier. Large doors on the south side were built to allow the trolleys in and out, but the mechanisms to open them no longer worked. Lambert’s contact had told them about another set of doors on the north end, but they could not easily reach them. A large wall, adorned with spikes, wire and other unpleasant things, blocked the path and protected the city from the Desolate Lands beyond. Teagan faced Lambert.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  Lambert nodded. “Baldric said the old trolley station.”

  “Maybe he wanted to throw us off while he retrieved the stone himself.”

  “He seemed perfectly willing to let us deal with this Emerie person.”

  Teagan crossed her arms. “Must be some child to ward off a black
market dealer.”

  “That’s why we came back for you, Teagan,” said Jasper. “We wondered if she’s like Keela. Well, not exactly like her, but, you know what I mean.”

  Teagan smiled. “Keela is one of a kind as far as I know. The only other guess I would make is that she’s one of the Seeds, but I thought they all joined one of the councils.”

  Jasper approached the station, moving around the door, he braced against the inside edge. Pushing as hard as he could, the door screeched opened another inch. He took a step back then rammed the door with his shoulder. Again the door made a horrible sound as it ground open another few inches. Jasper stood straight.

  “That’s as good as it’s going to get.”

  He slipped through the door, followed by Teagan. Lambert came last, sucking in his stomach to squeeze by. Inside, the air hung heavy and smelled of old machine oil. They made their way past overturned benches, stirring up long settled dust from the floor. Reaching the ticket booth, Teagan wiped clean a sign revealing the destinations and prices for the trolley line.

  “Hmm, to think just a few coins could once take you to Clover Station.”

  Lambert looked at the signage. “Never mind the trolley, the train went all the way to Central. That’s what we really could use now.”

  “We’re lucky there is anyone still willing to cross the Desolate Lands to Central at all.”

  Jasper pointed to the left of the booth.

  “There’s the funnel.”

  A large funnel, with a slot for a coin at its edge, hung from a rickety frame. A three-inch pipe attached to the bottom ran down through a hole in the floor. Lambert took the marked coin Baldric had given him and held it above the slot on the funnel. Letting go, the coin dropped down the metal chute. Hitting the inside of the funnel it circled around and around until it arrived at the center where it dropped down the pipe. The three listened to the coin clatter downward into the darkness below. It clanged then rolled along the inside of the piping before clanging again then rolling in a different direction. It changed directions a few times before the sound faded out of their hearing.