by Ryan Muree
He approached the gaping hole in the cargo door. Mykel’s progress on repairing it was slow. Sweat was dripping down into his eyes.
“There’s no point,” Grier said to him. “Stand back with the others. I don’t know what they’ll do when they see me.”
Mykel backed away, breaking the strands of golden ether from his fingertips.
Grier stepped up to the twisted metal in full view of the airship behind them. The air was rushing in, blurring and drying his eyes too quickly for him to see clearly. He lifted a forearm to shield some of the air from his face.
Avrist stood in the bridge window, pointing at him and staring him down while speaking forcefully with his pilot. The two Keepers, who’d shot their anchors into the Zephyr, weren’t familiar looking, definitely not the same two from Delour. There was no telling how tough their tethers were.
He swallowed and looked down.
The world yawned beneath him. Every bob and weave of the airship threatened to throw him out to a painful death. His throat dry, his palms slick, he hooked his left arm and leg on the metal door and mustered the strength to hang the right side of his body partially out.
The first tether was thankfully within reach. Lifting his ax as high as he could, he brought the blade down and sliced through the metal tether like it was nothing. It dissolved into ink and floated on the breeze behind them.
The Zephyr jerked and swayed from its sudden and partial freedom.
He dropped his ax and gripped the cargo door for support.
Emeryss yelled for him. “Come back inside! We’ll figure out another way for the other one.”
His head spun as he clung tightly to the wall and tried to catch his breath. “I can reach the other one,” he said. “Even if we shrink, the tether will cause problems.”
“If you die, Grier—”
“Go back and stand against the far wall,” he ordered.
She shook her head. “If you die, I’ll go to the otherworld myself to yell at you for it.”
He lifted his shield-arm and pulled another ax into reality. He then anchored his right arm and leg on the metal and hung the left side of his body out.
One more. One more.
He lifted his arm up to bring the ax down.
An explosion behind him from Avrist’s airship rocked him, the Zephyr, and everyone else inside. He grabbed hold of the twisted metal hole he’d been dangling out of as its shards bit the inside of his forearm and thigh.
“What was that?” Emeryss shrieked, reaching for him. “Are you okay?”
He looked up.
They’d shot another barb and tether, but this time it was attached to the roof of the airship. There was no reaching that one without climbing outside of the ship, and no one could do that. It was over.
Emeryss helped him claw his way back inside completely. “What happened?”
“They hit us higher up with another tether. There’s no reaching it. They’ve got us.”
“Maybe we can still snap free if Vaughn shrinks us,” Emeryss said. “He has to be almost done.”
Kayson shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. With the tethers in, he can’t shrink us without shrinking them, too. It wouldn’t stop them from chasing us or taking us down.”
“Can’t you throw your ax at the tether?” Mykel asked.
“No,” Emeryss said. “He doesn’t need to dangle out there any longer.”
“Well, let’s wait and see what our would-be Caster can do, then,” Tully said, eying Emeryss.
The Zephyr jerked forward and started a quick ascent into the atmosphere.
Grier was about two seconds from throwing Tully at the tether, when Adalai Blinked into the cargo hold, breathless and cheeks flushed. “If this tart-hole thinks he can take down our ship, screw the treaty. I’ll string him up myself and sort it out later! Get out of my way!”
“We can’t detach the tethers,” Grier panted, as did the others. His lungs burned for air. Jahree must have been lifting them to a higher altitude to try and outfly Avrist’s pilots, but it was making it too difficult to breathe. “Tell Jahree we can’t go much higher.”
Sonora nodded at him.
“Then what’s the plan?” Adalai demanded.
“Is there any other way to knock the tethers off?” Emeryss asked, breathing heavily.
“They’ll just make more,” Grier shouted back.
“We have to take out the Keepers,” Kayson said.
Grier turned toward the hole. He could throw his javelin at the glass cages holding the Keepers, maybe distract them enough to lose their tethers, but he’d most likely miss with the wind and bobbing of the ships. And he’d most likely put himself in even more danger.
I can’t do anything from here, Sonora said, her words filtering through his head and most likely everyone else’s. I’d damage the Zephyr, too. I’d have to be right on top of them.
Adalai leaned over and whispered something in her ear, and Sonora nodded.
“What?” Grier shouted. “What are you thinking?”
Vaughn’s almost ready. But we need to get on that ship.
“So?”
Adalai and I are going to take out the Keepers. I’ve told Jahree—
How was Adalai going to—?
“No! You’re going to Blink to the ship and take them out? That’s too dangerous!” Grier couldn’t believe they were even considering it.
Emeryss shook her head. “Are you kidding? No way.”
They were already stepping in front of the hole to jump through it together.
“Don’t do this!” Grier boomed. “Avrist might tell the pilots to do something crazy—”
“We can take them,” Adalai said.
Grier spun to Kayson. “Stop them!”
Sonora kissed Kayson on the cheek and took Adalai’s hand, while he crossed his arms and shook his head. “She won’t listen to me.”
Without another word, Adalai Blinked them out and onto the roof of Avrist’s airship.
Emeryss squeezed his arm as they all looked on through the hole.
Sonora and Adalai held tight to each other until they’d gotten their footing. Then Adalai Blinked inside the bridge of the ship, going from pink dust cloud to pink dust cloud, fighting whoever was in her way.
Sonora, however, stood in the center of the roof and held up her arms.
“Come on, baby… come on,” Kayson muttered under his breath, cramming his glasses against the bridge of his nose with shaky fingers.
They were insane. The whole thing was horrific. It was killing Grier just to watch it. He should be the one fighting the Keepers. He should be the one stopping Avrist. Maybe he could leap to the airship, too. If he got a running start, he could use his shield to hook into the roof and help him stay on. Then…
He edged his toes near the gaping hole in the metal door, the world below him shifting. He quickly leaned back.
Emeryss’s hand was on his chest. “Don’t even think about it.”
What was he thinking? He couldn’t leap out of the airship. He wouldn’t. They’d just leaped out of the Zephyr like it was nothing. And he… He couldn’t even if he wanted to. He was too terrified, too weak, and innocent people might suffer because of his weakness, his failures.
“Look!” Mykel pointed.
Sonora’s hair stopped thrashing wildly around her head and rose straight up in sync with her hands. Avrist’s airship lifted as her fingers lifted, and indigo ether emanated from her in waves.
“Come on…” Kayson repeated.
Sonora threw her arms down with a piercing scream. Each piece of glass on Avrist’s airship shattered, and the ship’s fans sputtered with the shifting air masses. The metal roof compressed beneath her slightly, and the vessel dipped into a slow descent. The Keepers responsible for holding the tethers scrambled to get out of their seats and into a lesser exposed part of their ship.
Avrist’s airship teetered side to side, while Sonora struggled to hang on. The ship had lost its stability.
Adalai Blinked out of the bridge to Sonora on the roof, taking her hand.
“Get back,” he shouted at the others to keep them from blocking Adalai’s landing.
The tether near the metal door of the cargo hold finally dissolved, and the tether on the roof trembled.
Come on… break, bastard.
Whichever Keeper had shot it, they weren’t letting go, even through the chaos.
Jahree accelerated the Zephyr, and the top tether finally snapped free. It didn’t dissolve like the other. Instead, it whipped around in a frenzy back toward Avrist’s ship.
Adalai bent forward to Blink her and Sonora back onto the Zephyr, when the tether slashed out at them. Adalai re-appeared in the cargo hold with a line of blood dripping from the inside of her arm; Sonora was still back at Avrist’s airship, sliding off the edge.
“No!” Adalai screamed, running for the edge again without thinking twice and Blinking back to Avrist’s roof. She slid along the crumpled metal surface, gripping a smaller wing with one hand and stretching the other for Sonora’s.
“Grab her!” Emeryss shouted as they all watched for Adalai to grab Sonora in time.
Tully pushed through to the front of them. “58… 57…”
Adalai couldn’t reach Sonora, she was going to fall.
“54… 53… 52…”
Sonora’s fingers slipped off, and they collectively gasped. Kayson nearly fell out for her. But before they could say another word, Tully jumped from the Zephyr.
Like a bird plunging for its prey, she directed her fall toward Sonora, barreling for the surface of the planet. In one fluid movement, Tully grabbed hold of Sonora, and a cloud of white ether enveloped them.
Grier blinked, and Sonora was back on top of Avrist’s airship with Tully back in the Zephyr.
“32 seconds,” Tully said, smug as ever.
She’d reversed time for them both. No wonder they all tolerated her.
Adalai reached for Sonora again, this time latching on in a hug, and Blinked them both back into the cargo hold to safety.
“Do it, Vaughn!” Sonora shouted, fully shaken.
Kayson caught her as she collapsed in his arms. He smoothed back her hair from her forehead. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he rocked her in his arms. Emeryss was wiping her eyes, too, kneeling beside them.
Outside, the world fell away with the sky, and the Stadhold airship grew to a gargantuan size behind them.
Chapter 19
Underground market — Luckless — Ingini
Clove pointed to the descending passageway and shady-as-shit stairs leading underneath the building. “How did you know about that?”
Cayn held his arms out. “I told you. Marika and I came for two cans of ether-fuel and—”
She left him behind with his tired story and started down the stairs. “It feels like I’m about to meet a mob or a monster or some seedy whore house.”
“If it’s a brothel, then I can get inside and make us even more money.”
She’d reached the bottom of the stairs, and the market was exactly what she’d expected a market in an alley within another alley under a building would look like—dark, damp, questionable. The only surprising bit was that it looked to have sprawled on well beyond the building—possibly spanning the entire city.
There were definitely brothels. Not anything anyone sane would visit, and even Cayn shook his head at them.
“So,” he said behind her shoulder, “last time I was here, I heard of a weapons guy right there.” He urged her toward a side alcove. “He has a reputation for haggling everything, but he’s got good stuff. Don’t let him get off easy.”
She gave a curt nod, and they entered the shop.
Cut out from the underbelly of a crumbling building with raw piping exposed in its ceiling, the walls had racks of guns alongside rows and rows of ether canisters for ammo. A thick man with a dark, full beard and silver hairs running through it approached them. His pant legs stopped at his knees, but not intentionally—from being over-worn. His red shirt had dulled to a pink with permanent sweat stains around the neck.
“Can I help you?” he said gruffly.
Cayn rubbed his hands together. “We’re looking for some fuel for our airship, and maybe something to mount on it for defense.”
“How much fuel you need?”
“Seventy-five barrels,” Clove answered.
The shopkeeper’s bloodshot eyes roved over her. “You the pilot?”
She nodded.
“Fifty per barrel sound good?”
She shook her head. “Twenty-five.”
The man’s shaggy, salt-and-pepper eyebrows lifted halfway up his head. He had hearts cut out of the sides of his beard on his face. “You’re joking,” he said while laughing.
“I’m buying seventy-five barrels at once,” she said as coolly as she could. “That’ll last me five trips. I’m not buying a trip at a time like these other buyers.” She lifted her chin. Strength. Confidence. Convincing.
His smile fell. “Forty-five and no lower.”
She smirked. “Thirty.”
“Forty. Where are you parked?”
“Thirty,” she repeated.
“You’re trying to cut me down more than fifty percent! In what world would that be good business?” he boomed.
“In Ethrecity, the guy starts at thirty a barrel, and I haggle him down to twenty.”
“Sure you do.”
She shrugged one shoulder, trying to look as calm as possible. “Thirty. I have bills, not coin.”
The arms dealer rested a hand against his glass-encased counter filled with miniature ether guns. “Real bills?” His eyes darted back and forth between Cayn and Clove.
Cayn gave him a nod.
“Fine, thirty-five,” he said.
She flattened her lips. “Thirty or I walk. I’m not out of fuel. I can make my next two trips and buy at Ethrecity. I was trying to save myself time, and I wanted to buy a few more things here. We can look elsewhere.”
The man spat to the side. “Spirits, you’re a bitch. Fine. Thirty. Bills. Now.” His index finger thumped the glass counter and made it shudder.
She smiled, unfurled one of the rolls inside the bag, and counted out each bill.
The man snatched the cash, counted it again as if she hadn’t, and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. “What else do you want?”
“I told you,” Cayn said. “We need something for our airship. Defense.”
“You want some splatters?”
Clove snorted, and Cayn gripped him by the shoulder. “We’re not throwing them out the window, man. Mounted. Turrets.”
“What size?” His eyes wandered back to Clove.
“Mid-size. Oversized C fits okay, but B nodules are best.”
He pointed to the wall where a few capable, small-time guns were on display. They would mount nicely but wouldn’t do much at the border.
“We have to be able to take down Revel airships,” Cayn said. “Show us the real stuff.”
The dealer’s focus went back to Clove and lingered over her. He knew she had money. He knew she was good for it and to take them seriously. He’d better, anyway.
He gestured to the wall at the back of his shop with his head and pulled back a bright-yellow cloth with the formula for ethyrol printed on it.
They followed him through a tiny passage with wooden tables on either side littered with paper cups and half-eaten lunches, and then entered into another storage room as big as his main shop. Here, the weapons on display were too big for the walls and were instead laid out on pallets. The guy’s armed lackeys paced the aisles.
“Left side is for mid-size turret slots that’ll fit you okay. All military-grade. Up front, we have the railguns. Old tech on discount, but they’ll put holes in General Orr’s fleet.” He led them past pallet after pallet of decently sized and well-built weaponry that would do serious damage to any airship. He stopped in front of a cone-shaped weapon twice the length of Cayn and
had an oval armature at the back. Silver, sleek, clean—it was brand new.
“You like?” he asked with a grin.
“What is it?” she asked.
Cayn was already kneeling beside it, running his hands across the various metal parts.
The shopkeeper crossed his arms. “It uses raw ether-fuel, not canisters. This was taken off a transport headed for the border. We’re not sure if it was meant to mount on a vehicle or not, but it has some sort of modification at the bottom that makes it mountable to an airship.”
“But what does it do?”
“It’s a giant friggin’ gun. What do you mean?”
“What does it shoot out?” she snarled.
He licked his lips. “They’re calling it a laser. Part light, part ether, it annihilates anything in its path. If you want to make General Orr cry, you put this on your damn ship.”
Cayn stood and returned to them. “How much?”
“1,200.”
Cayn whistled. “You know how to shoot it?”
“No, but the mounting pieces and the handles in the back look like it’ll work like a typical railgun.” He pointed to the base and demonstrated its full range of motion.
Clove took a deep breath, shoving down the very loud part of herself screaming for her to take it. They could afford it. They had enough for the fuel for it, too. This would outfit them for life. Everyone would take them more seriously, and even if she left the bomb business or the war ended, she’d be able to provide higher security to regular shipments. That meant more jobs, more money. This laser was an investment.
“What do you think, Clove?” Cayn asked.
It was also a gamble. More expensive equipment meant Pigyll was more valuable, and they might not be able to afford the insurance to cover the loss completely if something were to happen. They could also become a target just for having it strapped to her hull.
It looks so good.
“Well?” Cayn urged. “We need it, be honest.”
“There are lots of guns. We don’t need this one.”
He feigned shock. “I do. I need this one, and admit it, you like it.”
