Sandstorm by Steve Rzasa

Author:Steve Rzasa [Rzasa, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Christian, Futuristic, Science Fiction, Steampunk
ISBN: 9781935929963
Google: dsi4ngEACAAJ
Amazon: B00E9YM128
Publisher: Gilead Publishing
Published: 2013-08-01T05:00:00+00:00

Monday

The sun was a red orb on the horizon by the time Skydart set down on the butte thirty-three miles north of Alentejo. Crewmen rappelled down the last ten feet to the ground, dust swirling about their clothes. Mooring lines slipped from the dirigible to the men waiting below.

Winch could see the Pool of Topaz a few hundred yards away. It was a deep, dark blue that stood out sharp as a nail against the tans, whites, and pale reds of the sand and rock. Palm trees with broad, green leaves hemmed its edges. The cliff looming above it did indeed cast a broad shadow across the butte.

The looked like…giant wings.

The chill Winch felt hadn’t a thing to do with the diminishing temperature outside the dirigible’s gondola. The sight reminded him of the glorious, golden wings that had interposed themselves between Perch’s beleaguered militia and the forces of darkness.

Allfather, Your mercy is abundant.

Brin stalked the control cab like a caged smilodon. “Come now—hustle, my boys!”

“Brin, they won’t settle this beast down any faster with you hollering over their heads.” Daisy stood at the wheel. She handled the Skydart with ease, fingers resting gently on the wheel. She adjusted their orientation with every gust of wind that shuddered across the dirigible’s envelope.

“They blamed well had better listen, then, before I have to go down there and finish the job.”

It seemed to Winch that his friend was about to burst through his own skin. His impatience infected everyone. Even Mateus emerged from hiding in his cabin. “Their progress is interminably slow.”

Winch saw he was without Zeferino, the sordes. “Have you sent Empress Cristiana a message announcing our arrival?”

“I will do so when we have recovered the artifact,” Mateus said. “Or find whatever it is the professor thinks is hidden under the dirt. Zeferino is swift, but even he is hard pressed to outpace a dirigible such as this. It will take him six hours to reach El Brazo.”

Winch nodded.

“Dear, I think Brin is ready for us to disembark.” Lysanne gestured. The gondola’s door was partly open. Wind blew dust through in tiny swirls. “He’s already down.”

“What in the blue skies did he do, leap to his death before we could properly land?” Winch tamped down his frustration. If Brin couldn’t get a grip on his impatience—

Brin’s laugh startled him. Winch stood at the open hatch, with his rucksack over one shoulder. Nunez’s memoir was tucked safely inside. Ah. The ground was only five feet below. Brin held his arms wide, hat in one hand and cigar in the other. Winch jumped the remaining distance. He landed hard in the dirt, and a sharp pain shot up his right leg.

“I think I will wait a moment longer, thanks.” Lysanne shook her head, a smile broad on her face.

Winch chuckled.

“Tie down my ship, lads, and break out the gear! Winch!” Brin grabbed him by the shoulder. “We made it.”

“Yes, Brin, we did, but couldn’t we have waited for the ropes?”

Javier and some of the

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