by Brandon Mull
“Sometimes the semblances are dangerous?”
Mira huffed. “Up in the castles, they seem plenty real. Some castles are empty. Some are deadly. If nothing gets taken, it doesn’t count as a mission, so make sure something gets back to the ship every time, even if it’s just a floatstone.”
“Got it. I don’t want to end up doing more than fifty missions.”
“Right.”
Cole cleared his throat. “So I’m the bait. For the semblances.”
“More or less. Nobody wants to see you fail. They’ll scope out the castle before they send you down. They’ll be ready to lend a hand if possible. And we’ll equip you.”
She opened a door to a room full of clothes. “Your outfit is about function, not fashion. You want clothes that let you move freely, have enough pockets, and maybe give a little protection. Put tough material over your knees and elbows.”
The room contained a bizarre variety of clothing—tunics, long underwear, embroidered robes, a sequin cape, a medieval breastplate, turbans, a trench coat, a pliable cloak as clear as glass, grass skirts, a football helmet, garlands, beaded vests, and togas. Cole fingered a fringed buckskin jacket, like the kind Davy Crockett might wear. “Where did all of this come from?”
“You get one guess.”
“The castles?” Cole picked up the football helmet by the face mask. “Do you even play football here?”
“Is that a game?”
He set it down. “Do the castles come from my world?”
“Do you have floating castles on Earth?”
“No,” Cole said. “But we have a lot of this stuff. Like that T-shirt over there. It’s for a movie called Medal of Shame. It doesn’t belong here.”
“Nothing belongs in the castles,” Mira said. “It’s why they’re worth raiding. You never know what you might find. It might be valuable or useful. It might be garbage. But it’s there for the taking.”
“If you don’t get killed.”
“You’re catching on.”
Cole picked up the breastplate. It was heavier than he had expected.
“First and last, worry about speed,” Mira advised. “If things go wrong, you’ll survive by escaping.”
Cole put down the piece of armor. He decided the football helmet would be cumbersome as well, limiting his vision. He grabbed a shirt and pants that looked about the right size. He tried on some different shoes until he found a match. At the end he added the buckskin jacket, even though it was a little too large.
“If anything doesn’t fit right, just come back and trade,” Mira said. “This other room is more important.” She led him to the next door in the hall. “You get to pick one special item crafted by our shapers. Durny leads them these days. Don’t try to take more than one. If you get caught sneaking more, you’ll be in big trouble. These items are hard to make and usually get lost when a scout . . . doesn’t survive. So they can’t afford more than one per scout. Same rule applies to most in a raiding party.”
Arranged on racks and shelves, weapons and gear filled the room. Cole saw swords, axes, spears, javelins, bows, arrows, crossbows, slings, maces, war hammers, knives, and throwing stars. He also noticed ropes, packs, shields, bottles, compasses, spyglasses, and all sorts of knickknacks ranging from figurines to shells.
“What should I pick?” Cole asked.
“You want something shaped,” she replied. “Many of the items here have special properties. Take some of the best ropes for example: a Winding Rope will tie itself around things, a Climbing Rope can stand up straight like a pole without any support, and a Slithering Rope will track and bind a target.”
“No way,” Cole said. “Seriously?”
“Get used to the unbelievable,” Mira replied. “You’ll find plenty of it in the castles.”
“I don’t know anything about this place,” Cole admitted. “You should probably choose for me.”
“I always bring a Jumping Sword,” Mira said.
“You’ve scouted?”
“The scouts aren’t the only ones who get to bring something,” Mira said. “I did scout a little when I first came here, but then I showed some potential as a shaper.”
“You’re a shaper?”
She gave an embarrassed smile. “Barely. Not a good one. But since I’ve learned a few little tricks, they don’t want to waste me as a scout.”
“Like how I’m going to get wasted,” Cole said.
“Don’t think that way,” Mira said. “You need to get cocky about it. The cocky ones last longer. Some even make it to fifty.”
“I’ll aim for a hundred.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“What does the Jumping Sword do?”
Mira retrieved a short sword and unsheathed it. “It’s a weapon, obviously.” She sheathed it and set it down. “When you point it at something and shout ‘away,’ it’ll pull you in that direction. Hard. You can jump really far with it, but you have to be careful, because there is no guarantee of a soft landing.”
“Jumping far is important?” Cole asked.
“Escape is important,” Mira corrected. “You can jump into a lifeboat from a distance in an emergency. The Jumping Sword is a specialty of Durny’s. He makes more of them than any other item. They’re the most popular choice.”
“Does it always let you jump the same distance?”
“No. It depends what you point it at. You don’t have to point it perfectly. The sword seems to get what you mean. But it has limits. Point it at the top of a tall tower, and you’ll only make it partway there and then fall to your death.”
“Sounds like just what I need.”
She gave him an annoyed look. “It isn’t very safe, but neither is exploring these castles. The Jumping Sword is powerful and useful.”
“Does Jace use it?”
She shook her head. “He has this golden rope. It can do everything the other ropes can, and more.”
“Should I consider one of those?”
“You can’t. There’s only one. Jace found it himself. You can keep anything you find if you claim it as your one special item.”
Cole thought about that. “What if I find a huge diamond?”
“You could keep it instead of the Jumping Sword or whatever. Personally, I’d rather survive than have a sparkly rock.”
“Good point,” Cole said. When he made his escape from Skyport, the Jumping Sword would come in handy. “I’ll take a Jumping Sword.”
“Smart choice.” She handed him the sheathed sword. “Are you tired?”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll track down some food and then help you find a bunk. Would you mind taking Fiddler’s old one?”
The idea of sleeping in a dead kid’s bed wasn’t his favorite. But he supposed a lot of the beds around here probably belonged to someone who had died at one time or another. “I guess not.”
“It’ll be less musty than the alternatives. You’ll be in with Jace, Slider, and Twitch.”
She started leading him toward the stairs. He caught her arm. She looked back at him, irritated and a little curious.
“Before we head back, do you have any tips?”
She considered the question. “Things tend to go bad right after you set foot on castle grounds or just after you enter a building. Always have an escape plan. Fighting is a last resort. It’s usually the last thing you do before you die.”
“Should I practice with the sword?”
“You could. I wouldn’t. Every time you jump with it is dangerous, so it’s better to save it for emergencies. It’ll work how I said.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Her eyes softened. “Don’t thank me. This might feel like good treatment after a slave caravan, but no worries. Tomorrow will remind you where you rank.”
CHAPTER
8
SKY RAIDERS
A vast cavern in the side of the cliff served as a landing bay for three big skycraft. Constructed out of dark wood, they looked vaguely like old
pirate ships, though broader and flatter, with a pair of modest masts and no sails. Each had three lifeboats—one on each side and one at the back.
Jace led Cole toward the skycraft called Domingo, where several men were gathering. Morning light streamed through the open side of the cavern. Out in the blue sky, Cole could see numerous castles hovering.
“Lots of castles,” Cole mentioned.
“We usually have a crowded day after a quiet one,” Jace said. “That’s good news. Two other companies compete with us—the Cloud Skimmers and the Airmen. On a busy day like today we probably won’t have much competition.”
At the gangplank to the Domingo, a middle-aged man with unruly brown hair greeted Cole. “You’re Cole, the new scout,” he said, extending a hand.
Cole shook it. “Yes.”
“I’m Captain Post. Jumping Sword. Savvy choice.” He handed Cole a cord with a little cylindrical container dangling from it.
“What’s this?” Cole asked, accepting it.
“A poison capsule,” the captain said. “Have they discussed falling?”
“No.”
He jerked a thumb at the sky. “We don’t know if you’d ever land. Could be you’d fall until you starved. As a courtesy, we provide the capsule.”
Cole examined the container more closely.
“Top unscrews from the bottom,” Jace explained. “It’s airtight. The poison reeks, which wrecks any chance to use it as a weapon. They trust slaves here more than most places, but not enough to arm us for an assassination.”
“Put it on,” the captain said. “We all wear one.”
Cole fought down a feeling of dread as he slipped the cord over his head. He hated the idea of carrying something meant to end his own life.
“This way,” the captain said, leading Cole to a battered bin beside the gangplank. He selected a medium-size backpack from among others. “If you fall, this parachute is your best friend. Give the cord a sharp tug, and we’ll try to get a craft under you. The skycraft can only descend so far, but if you pull the cord quickly, you’ll have a chance.”
“Good to know,” Cole said, shrugging into the backpack. Jace helped him adjust the straps over his buckskin jacket.
“Jace is here to coach you,” the captain said. “Listen to him. He’s a survivor.” The captain moved away, giving orders to a group of men.
“Some scouts skip the parachute,” Jace said. “They don’t want the extra weight slowing them down.”
“Do you use one?”
“Always. The risk of a fall is real.”
“How many missions have you done?” Cole asked.
“The next will be my thirtieth.”
“More than halfway there.”
Jace gave him a rough shove. “You trying to jinx me? Never talk about how many you have left. Only what you’ve done.”
“Sorry,” Cole said, feeling off-balance. “I didn’t know.”
“You’ve got all fifty left,” Jace said. “All fifty. Now we’re even. Apology accepted. Looks like they’re ready for you.”
About twenty men, including Captain Post, had lined up along the gangplank. The captain signaled for Cole to come aboard. As Cole walked up the gangway, every man in the line shook his hand and thanked him for his service. There were no grins or jeers. They were serious. It made Cole’s stomach knot. These men were paying their last respects.
Cole was the first aboard, with Jace right behind him. The other men followed, moving to their stations. Jace led Cole to a bench near the front of the skycraft. Cole noticed that it was bolted to the deck.
“Freaked out yet?” Jace asked.
“Kind of,” Cole said. “That felt like a funeral.”
“It’s all you’ll get,” Jace said. “If you don’t make it, they’ll either leave your body on the castle, and it’ll drift off into the cloudwall, or you get buried in the air—the bottomless grave. There’s never a body to bring back.”
“Fun to think about,” Cole said, straining to sound brave.
“You get used to it,” Jace said. “If you live long enough.”
“You should become a motivational speaker.”
Jace grinned.
The skycraft drifted up and forward, not like a plane taking off, but like a weak helium balloon in a soft breeze. “Smooth,” Cole said.
“Most of the time,” Jace agreed. “The helmsman is back there.”
Cole followed his finger to where a man stood on a raised platform behind a large wooden wheel. A pair of tall levers jutted up from the deck, one on each side of him.
As the Domingo coasted out into the glare of the rising sun, Cole shielded his eyes. The day was clear and cool, and they floated along serenely, like how it might feel to travel by blimp.
“Can we stand at the railing?” Cole asked.
“Sure.”
They rose. Cole felt a little unsteady walking with the deck shifting underfoot, but it could have been worse. Once his hands were on the railing, he felt plenty secure. Scanning from one side of the sky to the other, he counted at least thirty castles, some at higher altitudes than others, some larger, all slowly drifting west to east.
“What exactly do I do?” he wondered.
“They’ll take you down in a lifeboat,” Jace said. “You’ll climb down a ladder. Usually nothing much happens until you set foot on castle grounds. Sometimes that alerts the semblances and they come running. Other times nothing happens until you enter a building, or trigger a response some other way. Sometimes the castle is empty—easy pickings. Your job is to scout to see if anything is worth taking and to check for threats.”
“If I get attacked?”
“Run for it,” Jace said. “Get back to the lifeboat. They’ll try to help, but they won’t set it down. Once you’re safe, they’ll assess whether the threat is worth challenging. The guys in the lifeboat will bring weapons. The main ship has two ballistae—see over there?”
Cole saw what looked like a giant crossbow on the deck near the railing.
“They’ll mount that up and get it ready before you go down,” Jace said. “People will be covering you. We all want you to make it. And you have your Jumping Sword.”
“Did you bring your golden rope?” Cole asked.
“Did Mira tell you about that?” Jace produced a golden string, maybe a foot long. He noticed Cole’s perplexed stare. “It gets bigger.”
“She said it can do all sorts of things.”
“It can,” Jace said. “It was a lucky find. But a Jumping Sword has advantages too. I know some guys who did all fifty missions with a Jumping Sword, including some dicey ones.”
“How often does it get dicey?”
“Roughly? I guess one in three missions amounts to nothing. The rest are at least annoying. Maybe one in eight will give you nightmares. That’s not exact. It depends on your luck.”
“Define ‘annoying.’ ”
“Am I a dictionary? You know, you eventually have to run for it, but you know you’ll probably make it.”
“That’s just annoying?”
“Yeah, at least compared to the worst days.”
“What kind of stuff can happen?”
Jace ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve done this a lot, and you just have to be ready for anything. Once, a whole castle exploded, took out an entire skycraft. That was before my time. Nobody made it back. Some of the guys at Skyport saw it through their telescopes. The semblances might want to talk. Some are friendly or at least reasonable. Sometimes they’ll treat you like a guest. They might act nice, then try to backstab you. There can be monsters, traps, bees, poisonous gas, archers, fireballs—you name it. Anything.”
Cole didn’t feel very reassured to know there were millions of ways he might die. He hoped Jace didn’t notice how tightly he was squeezing the railing. Still gliding smoothly, the skycraft sped up enough that wind ruffled his hair.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Cole asked, looking out at the castles. The nearest one
was horribly ruined. The next nearest was made mostly out of logs, giving it the appearance of an elaborate frontier fort.
“Not even the captain knows yet,” Jace said. “The spotters are checking our prospects. Badly ruined castles are almost always empty and have nothing worth taking. We wouldn’t go to one like that unless it was the only option. There have been too many bad experiences with castles that look really dark and scary, so we avoid those. Same with any metal ones. It isn’t an exact science. They’re looking for something promising—not too menacing, in decent shape, maybe with some hints of wealth.”
“What if one of the other salvagers wants the same castle?”
“You’ll plant a flag claiming it for the Sky Raiders first thing,” Jace said. “We’re all good about honoring claims. Saves a lot of violence.”
The skycraft went into a long bank, then straightened out. “Looks like we have a prospect,” Jace said, eyes forward. “See the one we’re heading for? They’ll take a closer look, then if they’re still feeling good about it, they’ll send out a lifeboat.”
On the way there, they passed a castle that looked to be made entirely from white styrofoam and duct tape. Another one that was not so near seemed like a natural formation of orange and yellow sandstone rather than something constructed. A few others in various states of disrepair looked more traditional. One floated along upside down.
Sooner than Cole liked, the skycraft turned in a wide circle around a solid gray castle, old but undamaged. The high wall had sturdy towers at intervals, and enclosed a big courtyard with a few smaller structures. The drawbridge was raised. The tallest towers belonged to the main building, which seemed to have been built more for intimidation than for beauty. In one corner of the courtyard, Cole observed a gallows and a guillotine. The sight made him shiver.
