“The story goes,” Witt…begins, looking over at Myth who nods in assurance, “that the aero-ship lieutenant, clean-cut and serious, reminded me of…colonizers. The ones I heard about on the other side of the second star. He wore a stuffy button down suit, bright shiny boots, and looked down at us with piercing haughty eyes, all while clicking his tongue against his teeth in disgust.”
“An absolute disgrace,” he mutters, perusing our faces after they’d hauled us up to the deck of their ship.
“But then again, what could I expect? The Maestro has a penchant for finding the lowest vermin from beyond the second star.” He spits, self-absorbed and cocky as he paced back and forth.
“Some of you are unsalvageable miscreants,” he sneers, lifting Avit’s chin up and looking her in the eye.
She smirks, her cheeks fill with snot, and she spits a loogie straight onto the captain’s face.
He reels back, snarling as he wipes his face with a handkerchief. He takes a lighter from his coat jacket and burns it, all the while staring at her with a dangerous rage in his eyes.
“But Avit didn’t flinch,” Deter interjects starry-eyed.
“Which,” Witt continues, “made the lieutenant even angrier.”
“Change of plans,” he grins wickedly as his men drag us to our feet. “No need to bring these to the mess hall with the rest,” he sneers as they haul us into the belly of the aero-ship.
“We wouldn’t want them to infect our better batch.”
His crew opens a prison cell and throws us in one by one onto the rough and grimy floor.
“You did this to yourselves,” a crew member scolds, as he slams the cell door closed.
“Don’t waste your breath,” another laughs. “They’re not capable of intellect. It’s all about a steady hand, with them, you have to enforce obedience.” He drones on, filling the air with useless words, before turning back to us. “Let the rats and gruel, teach them some respect.”
“I prefer rat piss and gruel to licking boots,” Oc snaps back.
The guard bristles with embarrassment, glaring angrily at Oc as his fellow crew member pulls him back towards the aero-ship deck. The door slams behind them and we are left to contemplate “obedience” in its suffocatingly dank and dusty underbelly.
“Who are these people?” Deter asks, as soon as she’s sure we’re out of earshot.
“Jars of pickled brain lowlifes,” Oc mutters, then adds in sign. “They want strange things like money, and power, so they trade valuable stuff like freedom and fun for it.”
“Or so the story goes,” Avit replies, although her talking is hampered by an especially tight rope around her wrist.
“Couldn’t tell you why though, it never made much sense or nonsense to us.”
Deter nods, breathes in, holds her breath, and lets it out completely. “Okay, how do we get out of here?”
Avit looks back at her, tilts her head and grins, “I got a name for you.”
“A name?” Deter asks, brows raised in confusion. “I have a name it’s…” she pauses, distressed. “Or I had a name…I’m sure of it.”
“You’re stubborn, a little reckless, and not easily discouraged,” Avit continues, without skipping over her confusion.
“I don’t know how you’d say that.” She tugs on her rope. “Wish we could ask Lexi.”
“What about Determined,” I suggest, noticing a leaking pipe in the corner. I stick my hands beneath the dripping water as Deter considers it for a moment. Mouthing the words and feeling them on her tongue. “Det-er-mined. It’s too long, what about Deter for short?”
“Deter it is,” Avit signs, then turning to me.
“You’re next. I’m a genius at finding names.”
“You didn’t find that one,” Oc mutters under her breath trying to get out of her rope.
“I can read your lips.” Avit signs affronted. “Besides, it was a collaborative effort.”
Oc grins sheepishly and signs back, “or so the story goes.” She drops her hands frustrated and frowns, sitting back against the wall and taking in our predicament.
“From way down here there’s no way Myth, Lexi, or Grips will hear or see the misfit call.”
“What about Piper?” Deter asks.
“She brought us here, shouldn’t she notice we’re missing?”
Oc and Avit exchange glances.
“Piper is not someone to rely on,” Avit signs.
Deter raises her eyebrows confused. “Then why would she bring us here?”
Avit winces and looks away, focusing again on loosening the rope around her hands and leaving Oc to provide an answer.
“I wouldn’t think too much on the Maestro’s motives.”
“Don’t get us wrong,” Avit adds, “she has a soft spot for sad souls…she’s just…easily distracted….or so the story goes…”
The Maestro…Witt thought to herself, as a memory flooded in. Who had told her about the Maestro?
“What is it?” Poise asks, looking up from her hammock. “You stopped the story.”
Witt looked up to see the other new arrivals staring at her quizzically.
She looked over at Brave, who watched her worriedly.
“It’s…nothing.” Witt continues. “Where was I?…Oh right…the story goes…”
“I think we might have the element of surprise,” I say, as the water soaks into the knotted rope tied around my wrists. I slip my hand out of the dampened rope.
“Almost forgot you were here,” Avit signs. She looks at me carefully as if seeing through me. “You know, you remind me of someone…maybe we should call you Mouse.”
She taps her foot against the ground two times and shimmies a knife out of the sole of her shoe. She cuts her hands loose and passes the knife across the floor to Oc, massaging her hands and sighing, “so much easier to talk.” She looks at me earnestly. “What do you think?”
I shrug then sign, “it doesn’t suit me,” before standing up. I trip over my legs cramped from sitting and maneuver towards the other side of the hull to untie Deter.
Oc looks me up and down, impressed. “That’s some quick thinking.” She slides the knife back towards Avit, who was now picking the lock of the cell.
“Thanks,” I grin sheepishly.
“I got it!” Avit signs.
Oc gets up and motions for us to head towards the entrance. “Nice, let’s get out of here.”
“Oh, no, we’re still locked in,” Avit corrects. “I thought of a name, Rock.” She looks expectantly around at the group. “‘Cause she’s calm under…no?” She shrugs, giving up on the lock and jamming the knife into the door hinge instead. She jumps into the air, then looks over at Oc who closes one eye, examines Avit’s trajectory and beckons her forward.
Avit inches incrementally in the air until Oc puts her hand up. “All you.”
Taking that as her cue the fastest flyer drops down, feet first, forcefully shoving the knife into the door hinges and prying the bolts loose. The prison door creaks loudly before collapsing against its frame.
Oc kicks the door open and Deter and Avit, quickly head towards the deck. “Wait…wait,” I object. “What’s the plan?”
“Save the other captives and escape,” Deter responds.
“Those are more like goals. How do we…do that exactly? We don’t even know where everyone is.”
“I didn’t really think of that,” Avit signs, bouncing on her feet in excitement.
“Yeah, we’re sort of the fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants type,” Oc explains.
“Didn’t that strangely dressed man mention something about a dining hall?” Deter’s brows knit as she tries to recall. “So we find out where that is, break in, grab everyone and run.”
“Whoa, whoa, what’s with the quick exit? Misfits don’t run,” Avit retorts.
“Misfits? What are misfits, is that us… is that you?” Deter asks.
“Isn’t a search and rescue also an adventure of a kind?” I interrupt, not wanting to get sidetracked.
Avit pouts her lips considering it. “Oh, let’s call her Practical,” Avit suggests.
“No.”
“I’ll keep thinking, but in the meantime—”
“Hold on,” Oc interrupts, grabbing the fastest flyer’s shirt while leaning against the now empty door frame.
Avit’s shoulders slump as she grows increasingly annoyed.
“What now?”
“Grips’ brand new inventions. We can’t go back without them.”
Avit winces. “She’d never forgive us.”
Oc gives her a wily glance. “She might.”
“If we’re lucky.” Avit rolls her eyes. “I might fear the Magician more than the Maestro.”
“Or so the story goes,” Oc adds, folding her arms, as she thinks. “But where would they be?”
“If he’s a lieutenant he probably has an office or something, right?” I offer.
Avit snaps her fingers, then, without waiting any longer, sneaks up the steps of the lower deck. She peeks her head out, and looks around.
“Two sailors,” she signs to us, suddenly serious as she pushes us down the steps out of sight as they walk past.
“And another by the edge of the deck, but I think he’s asleep. Wait here.”
She jumps up the last step, but doesn’t land again. Instead she glides just a little above the surface so her feet don’t make a sound, and when she gets to the door of the lieutenant’s quarters, she picks the lock and motions for us to follow.
Oc glides quickly behind her while Deter and I, still not used to flying, decide to walk instead.
“I’ll keep watch,” Oc says, ushering us into the room. Avit is already rummaging through the trunks, shelves, and drawers.
“What’s this?” Deter asks, picking up a strange-looking box with wires hanging from the bottom. She shakes it and it starts to fizzle and pop with a strange song.
Oc shoots her a warning glance and peeks out the door again.
The two look at each other sheepishly and Avit stuffs it into the bag.
“We’ll show it to Grips or Lexi when we get back to Misfit Island, they’ll know,” she signs assuredly.
Suddenly there’s a loud crash from the mess hall and two guards stand at alert.
“Should we tell the lieutenant?”
“Pickle brains!” Oc whispers sharply.
“No, no, they’re just little girls, we can handle it,” the other guard says, walking towards the mess hall.
Oc breathes a sigh of relief.
There’s another loud crash, a bang and a smash and the guard stops in mid-step.
“On second thought,” one guard says looking around nervously, “the lieutenant probably wants to know what’s happening in his absence.” He turns on his heels and heads towards the once captives now plunderers.
“Double pickle brains, they’re coming!”
“Here!” Deter says, throwing her the stinkshot and bag of pebbles.
“Everyone hold your nose.” Oc warns before turning around and shooting at the ground beneath the guards’ feet.
“Uggg—” they yell, as the pebbles spray out smoke. They gag as the stench fills their lungs and noses.
The four young rescuers run past the distracted guards through the cloud of smoke and smell towards the mess hall, only to run into a group of more sailors running towards them.
“They’ve taken over the ship!” the closest sailor screams, as they approach. “What’s that terrible smell?”
“They’ve probably called the Maestro.”
“Where are the escape boats?”
Avit looks perplexed as sky sailors run past her.
“This is—unexpected,” she signs to Oc.
“What do they mean taken over?” I ask, confused, when suddenly I meet with the warm embrace of a familiar hug.
I look up and see Brave looking down at me, a devious grin on her make-up smeared face.
“What are you doing here?”
“We came to save you.”
“Save us, it looks like we’re saving you.”