A Voyage Through Air

by Peter F. Hamilton

  Sophie manoeuvred herself to a position twenty metres out from one of the mast tips, and came to rest. From here she could easily see the entire ship. Taggie, Jemima, Felix and Lantic were all on the upper deck, clinging to the netting as they floated about. Prince Dino and Earl Maril’bo were on the larger lower deck, close to the helm. She couldn’t see Lord Colgath; he’d come aboard quietly last night while most of the crew were having a last few hours in the taverns, and claimed the smallest cabin for himself.

  ‘Make ready tail sails,’ Captain Rebecca bellowed from her position on the upper deck, directly above the helm. On the deck below, crew started frantically cranking winch handles. Sophie watched the thick yellowish canvas of the five sail tails open like grubby petals reacting to the dawn light.

  ‘Tipsails away,’ came the next order.

  On the top spar of each mast, a waiting crewman started to unfurl the highest sails.

  ‘Cast off!’

  The remaining mooring ropes were released, curling limply in mid-air before they were wound back on to the wharf. Sophie saw the tipsails starting to fill as a gentle breeze caught the startlingly white new canvas.

  ‘Hey, Sophie!’ Jualius called. He was flying out towards her. ‘Get back inside the netting. Bad luck not to be on board when we launch.’

  Sophie grinned and gave him a thumbs-up, before darting back to the bulk of the Angelhawk. The ship crews in the Realm of Air were even more superstitious than their nautical counterparts, she’d discovered over the last two days. She slithered through the opening in the net to join her friends floating round on the topdeck.

  The masts were creaking as they started to feel the first push of the wind. Captain Rebecca was studying the two new masts closely, checking to see that the mountings held. Sophie watched the tower wharf begin to slide past as the big ship slowly started to back away from the tower. Right at the end of the wharf an old woman in a stiff black dress hung to the lattice. Sophie couldn’t tell if she was watching them or not: her face was covered with a veil.

  ‘North-lightwards-east, helm,’ Captain Rebecca ordered. The big wheel was spun accordingly, turning the sailtails.

  The Angelhawk began to angle upward from the isle, still moving cautiously.

  ‘Full about,’ came the order when the prow was well clear of the tower and its wharfs. Sophie and her friends laughed half nervously as the isle seemed to suddenly slip round. All of them gripped the net tighter. The tipsails suddenly became limp as the ship turned sideways to the breeze.

  ‘Mainsails away,’ Captain Rebecca ordered.

  Huge sheets of canvas rippled out, stiffening quickly as the ship finished its turn and they captured the breeze. The Angelhawk began to pick up speed, heading forwards now, a course which sent them soaring over Tarimbi’s town.

  Everybody laughed nervously again as the acceleration pushed them down on to the decking. Their weight returned, allowing them to stand normally again. ‘That just feels weird now,’ Jemima said as she took a few experimental steps. ‘I liked floating around.’

  ‘Midsails,’ the captain called, and crew members scampered along the yardarms to obey.

  ‘Makes eating easier,’ Lantic observed. ‘I’m not surprised everyone’s covered in little scars. I kept burning myself on tea drops. They get everywhere when you’re drinking, even with those special squeeze cups.’

  Jemima was pressing her face against the netting, trying to see Tarimbi, which was now almost directly behind them. ‘We’re really moving now,’ she said.

  Captain Rebecca patted Jemima firmly on her back, grinning broadly. ‘That we are, warrior maid. Your father chose a good ship to carry you to safety.’ She winked at Taggie. ‘So what was it, Agatha? Did some arrogant ugly old prince demand an arranged marriage?’

  Sophie laughed at the indignation on her friend’s face. Nor did she miss the way Lantic started to blush.

  ‘We’re not running away from anything,’ Taggie said, a little too earnestly. ‘We’re here to study ancient scrolls.’

  ‘Well, certainly nobody runs to Banmula, not these days,’ Captain Rebecca snorted.

  ‘Why not?’ Lantic asked.

  ‘A long time ago it used to be the capital of Air,’ the captain said. ‘The richest, grandest town, so large it was practically a city, as they have in other Realms. Twenty towers it had in its port park, and mansions and palaces almost as tall. It was the centre of trade, with fat merchants sitting on chairs of gold in their halls. Athrodene and volpas meat went through the Great Gateway to every Realm, and their coins flowed back to us.’

  ‘What happened?’ Jemima asked breathlessly.

  ‘Rothgarnal,’ Taggie said bluntly.

  Captain Rebecca faced her, the minuscule stars in her eyepatch sapphire contracting to a dense swirl. ‘Well done, my young sorceress. The Great Gateway that led to Rothgarnal was destroyed in the battle. Trade ended that day. Piaffelo, the Highlord of that time, moved his eyrie palace to the isle of Tonba, which has a Great Gateway to the Fifth Realm. All the merchants and captains followed him – what else could they do? Banmula slowly declined, as is the way of things.’

  ‘That’s sad,’ Jemima said.

  ‘For Banmula, but not for Tonba,’ Captain Rebecca said cheerily. She leaned over the rail, pressing herself against the netting, and yelled down to the lower deck. ‘Shipsmage, we’re two isle-lengths out and have a sound hull. Kindly rouse yourself and bless this voyage. I don’t waste my precious coins carrying deadweight.’

  On the decking below, Maklepine gave a quick salute. He walked over to the rail beside the helm wheel, where two strange carved bulbs of wood stuck out, resembling giant acorns. Maklepine put his hands on them. The crew became quiet and watched him respectfully as the rings on his fingers started to glow brightly.

  ‘We ask the ever-watching angels to smile upon us,’ Maklepine said. ‘And grant us clean winds to carry us onward without harm through this most glorious of Realms we are privileged to live in.’ He closed his eyes, and began to incant. Slivers of light from his rings began to flow across his hands and seep into the wooden bulbs.

  Sophie grinned in appreciation as Maklepine’s magic started to illuminate the runes carved across every part of the hull. She hadn’t noticed them before: the runes were little more than scratches. But now they filled with red and gold and green and violet light, spreading out from the wooden bulbs, flowing like liquid along the tiny lines until the entire ship was festooned by shimmering protective enchantments. Slowly the light began to sink away into the timbers, strengthening them against the dangers and surprises spread throughout the blue void they sailed in.

  ‘Thank you, shipsmage,’ Captain Rebecca shouted down at him, sounding completely unimpressed. Sophie reckoned that was all part of the act, and smiled over at the imposing captain.

  ‘What’s your problem, gnat?’ Captain Rebecca barked.

  Sophie giggled, shaking her head.

  The captain gave a disgusted grunt. ‘Patrina, take top watch, and no dozing – I see cloud ahead. Isairis and Favian you have lower deck watch. Jualius, take the con. Keep this heading for now.’

  The crew hurried to their stations.

  ‘And you lot –’ Captain Rebecca rounded on Taggie and her friends. ‘Stay out of the way. Don’t ask foolish questions. Obey every order you’re given. Don’t touch any of the ship’s equipment. If you annoy me I’ll use you for volpas bait.’

  ‘What’s a volpas?’ Jemima blurted.

  ‘Its tentacles are the tastiest meat you’ll ever eat,’ Captain Rebecca said with a wicked smile. ‘Trouble is, the tentacles are attached to the widest mouth with the sharpest teeth you’ll ever see. And they’re big, bigger than the Angelhawk – and that’s just the babies. Their mums and dads, now they lurk in the middle of clouds where you can’t see them until too late. Miles wide they are, their tentacles kill with lightning bolts, and slash isles in half, they’re so strong. So you be a good little warrior maid for me or you’ll be see
ing one from the inside.’ She flew a few inches off the deck, chortling all the way to her cabin.

  A pale Jemima turned to Sophie. ‘She’s joking, isn’t she?’

  ‘Not about the volpas, no. They’re very, very dangerous. But they normally live closer to the sun, I think.’

  ‘Jem, she won’t actually throw you to the volpas,’ Taggie said.

  ‘Humm,’ Jemima said, giving the captain’s closed door a suspicious look.

  ‘She’s curious about us,’ Felix said. He was clinging upside down to the netting just above their heads. ‘We’ll have to be careful not to give anything away.’

  ‘She already knows a lot about us,’ Lantic said. ‘She must have some kind of sight.’

  ‘Air-sense,’ Sophie told them.

  ‘What?’ Felix asked.

  ‘They call it Air-sense in this Realm. That’s what makes a real captain.’ She was staring darkwards into the indigo sky they were sailing towards. ‘Rebecca said there were clouds up ahead. I can barely see them.’

  ‘How far away are they?’ Felix asked, twisting round on the net.

  ‘It’s hard to tell,’ Sophie admitted. ‘Tiny and close, or else far away and big.’

  ‘I bet I know which it is,’ Felix said gloomily.

  Jemima shared a cabin with Sophie and Taggie; though she thought ‘cabin’ was an exaggeration. ‘Cupboard with three shelves’ was more like it. Her bunk, the lower one – which she was still cross about – had straps across to hold the sleeper in place should the Angelhawk perform any sharp manoeuvre or stop sailing. It always surprised Jemima that she could fall asleep so easily in it.

  That first night after they launched from Tarimbi she fell asleep quickly. In her dream she was standing outside Mum’s house in the Outer Realm. It would have been comforting but for the sky, which was scarlet. The old woman in black walked slowly out of Mum’s house, all stooped over as if she was carrying a heavy burden. The veil gave no hint to the face behind it.

  ‘Has Mum got the cure?’ Jemima asked.

  ‘She talks to the sorceress mistress this very hour, my dear,’ the old woman said.

  ‘That’s wonderful. Felix is going to be so happy. His family has suffered really badly, you know, for so long.’

  ‘Oh I do, Blossom Princess, I do indeed. Now then, part of the cure is a potion young Felix must drink. Your mother has told me to bring it to you. I sighted you launching from Tarimbi: where are you going?’

  Green snow began to fall from the red sky. Jemima shivered at the cold it brought, rubbing her arms. ‘Banmula.’

  ‘Thank you, my dear. I will buy the ingredients, and meet you there.’

  ‘Then it’ll only be a few more days until he’s cured.’ The dream-sky was darkening now, and the wind began to rise. All the trees and bushes in the garden began to lose their leaves, which fluttered down to a lawn which was shrivelling up. ‘How will you get a ship?’ Jemima asked curiously. ‘We only just managed to charter the Angelhawk. The other captains are all going to chase the comet.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’ An unpleasant chuckle sounded from behind the veil. ‘Don’t you worry about that.’

  Jemima’s sudden unease sent a rush of cold down her veins, worse than anything the green dream-snow could inflict. ‘Who are you?’

  The chuckle grew louder until it was stronger than the pealing of church bells.

  ‘Who are you?’ Jemima shouted. ‘Who are you really? Show me your face!’

  The chuckling began to crack the glass in the windows. With a slow menace, the woman reached up, and began to lift the veil.

  ‘No,’ Jemima wailed, knowing she was going to see something utterly horrible. ‘No, no, no!’

  ‘Jem! Jem, wake up.’

  Jemima woke with a start to see Taggie and Sophie peering down at her, their faces creased with worry.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Taggie asked.

  Jemima glanced round the cabin, fearful that the shadows would melt and merge into the shape of a black dress. ‘I . . . She’s . . . ’ Her heart was pounding inside her chest. ‘A dream,’ she said. ‘I had a bad dream, that’s all.’

  Taggie hugged her. ‘It’s all right. I’m here. Nothing can hurt you.’

  Jemima was grateful for the hug, but she didn’t dare tell Taggie about the old woman. After a couple of minutes, she agreed that she felt a lot better, and everyone lay back down and tried to get to sleep again.

  Jemima couldn’t even close her eyes for fear of what might lurk in her dreams. She thought about what she’d done, and realized that the old woman had never actually given her any proof that she was Mum’s friend. A tear of dismay leaked down her cheek, unseen in the dark cabin. I was so stupid, she thought. After all those warnings at school about ‘stranger danger’, I believed her because I wanted to, I wanted Felix to be cured, and she knew that. Now I might have ruined everything. The tiniest whimper escaped from her lips. But I have the sight, she told herself. Better than anyone. I’ll keep special watch so no one creeps up on us. I won’t let Taggie and my friends down again. I won’t!

  GONE SURFING

  With the sun shining constantly in the Realm of Air, day and night on a ship was marked only by a clock, not the coming of darkness – for there was none. Traditionally, a ship remained on the cycle of the isle it had just departed from, changing only when it moored at its destination port park.

  That made it slightly easier for Taggie and her friends to adapt to life on board the Angelhawk. For the first few hours it was tremendously exciting: watching Tarimbi shrink rapidly aft until it was indistinguishable from any of the innumerable specks that drifted through the blue domain which surrounded them; jumping out of the way of the crew as they scurried about their duties, powered by a bellow and a curse from Captain Rebecca. Then there was the harpoon practice every day, with Maklepine supervising everyone rushing to their stations and cranking open the hatches.

  But after a while the monotony of the shipboard routine started to bite. There were slight moments of activity every now and then, when one of the watches spotted a boulder floating close to their course, and the helm spun the wheel, angling the Angelhawk round the dangerous rock.

  The only break came from meals. If Mr Marcus was surprised at how many volunteers he got to prepare the food, he never said. At mid-morning on the second day they all sat round the galley’s long table, scraping and chopping vegetables for the lunchtime stew. Ship’s food was always a pulp or mash of some kind, making it easier to hold and control if they weren’t under way. The mash was served in cylindrical pots with a funnel at the top and a base that moved up like a syringe, forcing the thick paste out of the nozzle.

  ‘Sophie and the Outer-Realm Girls,’ Sophie suggested as she diced some parsnips.

  ‘That’s dreadful,’ Jemima said. ‘Worse than The Taggerettes.’ She threw her rune stones again, studying them after they landed on the table amid the vegetable scrapings.

  ‘At least we wouldn’t have to sing soul music.’

  ‘People like dancing to soul music,’ Taggie insisted as she peeled potatoes.

  Sophie’s wings gave a dismissive flap.

  ‘Well, what sort of songs do you think we should feature?’ Taggie asked. She’d been watching Jemima quietly, for two days now. Jem had been casting the stones constantly, as if she was searching for something. So far, Taggie hadn’t asked what, but it was starting to concern her.

  ‘I don’t mind songs we can dance to,’ Sophie said. ‘Just not soul.’

  ‘And I still think I should be singing with you,’ Lantic said from behind the broccoli he was chopping. ‘Would you like to hear me sing? I have a fine voice.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter how good you are,’ Sophie said, waving her slicing knife in his direction. ‘A boy’s voice wouldn’t harmonize right. We want to be light and sparkly, a fun group that people will always want to book again.’

  ‘Soul can be light and sparkly,’ Taggie said.

  ‘No it can’t. You p
layed me hours of it when I visited the Outer Realm. It’s all sorrowful and broken hearts and lost loves. If we’re going to do weddings and parties, people don’t want misery.’

  ‘Jemima’s Lightheart Band,’ Jemima said. ‘It sounds quite classic.’

  ‘No,’ Taggie and Sophie said in unison.

  ‘You’ll need someone to accompany you,’ Lantic said. ‘A pianist, perhaps?’

  Taggie gave him a surprised look. ‘You play the piano?’

  ‘The flute, actually.’

  Her hand came down on top of his, and she patted encouragingly. ‘I don’t think a flute is quite right for us.’ Then she realized where her hand was, and hurriedly withdrew it.

  Sophie and Jemima exchanged a look, and grinned.

  ‘No, no, no,’ a very irritated Felix said. ‘How can you turn down the offer of a flute – which can be light and cheerful – when you can’t even think of a name for yourselves, let alone decide what music you’re going to sing?’

  ‘Well, why don’t you think of a name for us, then, Mr Big-Shot Manager?’ Jemima said.

  Felix stopped shelling peas to jam both forepaws against his waist. ‘I don’t want to manage you! You’d be a nightmare. However, I can offer a great deal of practical advice on musical taste. You might actually get a booking if you have a decent selection for the host to choose from.’

  ‘You?’ Sophie exclaimed. ‘Since when are you a music expert?’

  ‘I know what I like,’ Felix said, the fur on his tail fluffing up. ‘And what I like is popular.’

  ‘All right, how about this?’ Jemima said. ‘Moonlight Sisters.’

  ‘Sisters?’ Lantic said curtly, and sniffed.

  Felix tipped his head to one side, and sucked down a breath. ‘I think I’ve heard that name before.’

  ‘Could you play saxophone?’ Sophie asked. ‘It can’t be much harder than playing a flute, surely?’