Faster Than Falling: The Skylighter Adventures

by Nathan Van Coops

  “Grandpa!” Atlas shouted. He took another deep breath and yelled again. “I love you!”

  The yell echoed off the mountains, reverberating through the distant caves.

  Samra caught a few people looking up from the decks of their ships, searching for the source of the shout. She could see a few whispering and pointing. Atlas didn’t seem to notice. He was looking away. Somewhere far beyond the valley.

  “Do you feel better?” Samra asked.

  Atlas shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Samra stepped a little closer and put her hand in his. His fingers seemed to hesitate, then once again interlocked through hers the way they had done in the starship. They stood that way, staring out at the darkness; she wasn’t sure how long.

  What she did realize, after a while, was that something was coming closer—a darker shape against the already dim terrain—growing steadily larger as it approached. She barely had time to recognize the flapping wings and pointed ears of the creature before it was on top of them. The cliff fox barreled into Atlas at full speed, pulling up just short of his chest and scrabbling to land atop the boy’s shoulder.

  “Fledge!” Atlas cried out and reached for the cliff fox with both arms, catching the little furry body as it flapped and screeched around him. The cliff fox tucked its wings in at last, settled against Atlas’s chest, and gave his neck a couple of quick, fervent licks. Atlas laughed reflexively, then caressed the animal’s head. “Thank you,” he whispered, staring out at the darkness. “I’m glad you heard me.”

  The three of them settled back down on the deck and Fledge eventually released his hold on Atlas long enough for Samra to take him into her lap. Atlas finally seemed interested in the plate of food and wolfed it down faster than Samra had thought possible. They stayed there long after he was finished, just a Grounder, a Skylighter, and a bat, watching the night fall.

  “You’re sure you have to go so soon?”

  Kipling had agreed to meet up with Quimby one last time prior to departure. They stood on the dock in the morning sun, lingering around the last of the ship’s provisions.

  “Some of those globe sons have been out in the desert a long time. Only about half of them were even good enough to save,” Kipling said. “We loaded in the ones that were still fresh and we’re going to transport them back to the patch. Those plus the ones that were still aboard the Restless Fury ought to be enough to pollinate the rest of the colonies. That’s the hope anyway. We still have to hunt down the Globe Mother. She could have blown a long way by now.”

  Kipling realized after he finished, that Quimby hadn’t really been asking for an explanation of globe patch horticulture. She nodded, though, and made a good show of agreeing with his reasoning.

  “But maybe we’ll be back here next year,” Kipling added. “The north winds blow pretty strong sometimes. It pushes the patch well beyond Southfang some years. Happens at least once a decade or so . . .” He trailed off feebly.

  “Yeah. That’s something to look forward to,” Quimby said. She scraped a bit of mud off one of her boots with the toe of her other boot, then straightened up. “Well, I guess it’s been good knowing you.” She stuck out her hand in the typical Grounder custom. Kipling dutifully reciprocated. He shook her hand firmly and tried to look her in the eyes. Quimby looked away too quickly to be sure, but he thought her eyes looked watery.

  The girl nodded to him curtly, spun on her heel, and walked away down the dock, passing Warehime who was standing with her daughter and grandson, who had come to see the ship’s cook off on her journey. Kipling frowned at the retreating figure of Quimby, then grabbed a basket of supplies and ascended the gangplank to the ship. Samra was climbing down from one of the engine nacelle braces and she shook her head at him as he stepped aboard.

  “What?” Kipling asked.

  “You know all those manners lessons you took at home with your mom?”

  “Yeah?”

  “They’re stupid.” Samra hopped down the rest of the way to the deck and rested her hand on Kipling’s shoulder. “I don’t know a lot about Grounders yet, but I know a couple things about being a girl. I can tell you this much. We don’t care about you being polite and respecting all the rules all the time. Some rules are meant to be broken.” She took the basket from him and headed below decks.

  Kipling stared after her for a moment, then turned back to the dock. Quimby was already out of sight. He hesitated only a moment longer, then ran and took a flying leap off the ship. He landed on the dock well past where the cook and her family were standing, causing the old woman’s grandson to shout with glee and point. He raced past them and finally caught up with Quimby as she was about to board a public city skiff.

  “Quimby, wait!” He grabbed the girl’s shoulder and she started as she turned around.

  “Whoa! What?” Quimby said. She hastily wiped a sleeve across one cheek and rubbed her hand on her pants. “What do you want?” Her voice was defiant now.

  “I forgot something,” Kipling said. He wavered just a moment, then wrapped his arms around Quimby. The girl froze briefly, but then he felt her otherwise pinned arms reach around his waist. He held her for as long as he hoped would be appropriate, then finally released her, backing up a step to check the results.

  Quimby was smiling faintly. She sniffed once and then wiped her sleeve across her eye one more time. “Okay. Glad you remembered then.”

  Kipling smiled back. “Yeah. Me too.” He let his hand trail off the sleeve of her jacket. “And, you know, you’re a pilot now, so if the patch doesn’t exactly make it down this far south next season, we could still fix that, right?”

  “Damn right I could,” Quimby said. “As soon as I steal another ship.”

  There were juvenile spiders in the Rift, boldly spinning webs across the passes, but the Restless Fury found its way through. They’d taken the western route around the sky forest and approached the highlands from the sea. Despite the nightly dangers of sailing the open skies, they’d made good time. It was morning on the third day of flying when Atlas heard the Beacon Bell at the valley end of the Rift.

  Atlas stood on the bow of the Fury and waved to Danson Merkle, the watchtower guard. Danson stopped ringing the bell, peered at Atlas through a pair of field glasses, then waved. He rang the bell again, this time the signal for friendly arrivals.

  As they pulled abeam the watchtower, Danson leaned over the edge of the beacon parapet. “Hope you’re headed straight to town!”

  “I need to see my aunt,” Atlas shouted back.

  “In town!” Danson waved a hand toward the valley and cupped a hand around his mouth. “You’ll find her at the school!”

  “Thank you!” Atlas shouted back.

  Danson nodded and waved again. “Good luck!”

  Atlas considered the last comment. Was he in that much trouble? He supposed he was. Maybe Amelia wouldn’t even want to see him back after what he’d done and how ungrateful he’d been. He climbed down into the cockpit where Samra and Kipling were sharing the seat at the controls.

  “And this one is the power lever for the right engine,” Samra was explaining.

  Kip tentatively pressed forward on the control. “Still seems strange to cruise this fast.”

  “You’re going to have to be fast if you want to catch the patch,” Atlas said. “I appreciate you guys taking the detour to get me home.” His eyes wandered out the window to the canyons beyond his family ranch. He could just make out the entrance to the warren. Cathy would be there somewhere, tending to the animals like she did in the mornings.

  “How’s it feel to be home again?” Samra asked.

  “I think I’ll know in a few minutes,” Atlas replied. “There. Past the trees. Near the steeple.” He pointed to the heart of the valley and the little village of Womble, still going on with its days. Farmers were working out in the fields. Atlas spotted Minister Teague’s horse grazing in the pasture. From the air, it seemed the tragic events of this past week hadn�
�t changed much at all, but Atlas now felt like a stranger.

  Sunburn had Samra land the Restless Fury in the schoolyard directly in front of the little schoolhouse. There were plenty of other places to land, but the act certainly had its effect. The school doors opened and kids burst out, gawking and gaping at the ship as it touched down.

  Sunburn was grinning as he gestured to Atlas. “Go on then. Show them who’s come to class today.”

  Atlas waited for Samra to stop the engines before opening the cockpit hatch. Samra and Kip followed him above deck.

  The kids in the schoolyard all stared and pointed, expressions of envy on all of their faces. Even Heather Lanford was watching him with awe and curiosity. But Atlas didn’t care. He reached for Samra’s hand. “Come on. I need to go find my aunt.” They leapt off the bow together, Atlas landing with a crunch, but Samra barely making any noise at all as her feet touched down. Kipling lit up and glided to the schoolyard as well, the kids around them falling back into a reverent half-circle.

  They didn’t have to go far to find Amelia. She emerged from the doorway of the little schoolhouse, hair in her usual tidy braid, but her expression was anything but reserved. “Atlas!” She raced down the steps and across the yard, only pausing a step away. “I was so worried.” She wrapped her arms around Atlas and squeezed him tightly. When she let go, her eyes were moist. “I shouldn’t have chased you off like that, I should have tried to—”

  “It was my fault.” Atlas interrupted her. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. Not just when I left but . . .”

  Amelia nodded. “It’s okay.” She put her hands on the sides of his face. “It’s just so good you’re back.” She composed herself a little, noting the eyes of all the school kids on her. “We missed you. Everybody did. But mostly me.” She smiled at him finally. Atlas found himself grinning back.

  “I missed you, too.”

  “Who’s this then?” Amelia quickly brushed a tear away and glanced at Kipling and Samra, her eyes lingering on Samra’s shark tooth necklace for a moment.

  “These are my friends,” Atlas said. “They helped me find . . .” He nearly said Enzo but the eyes of the other kids were all on him. Somehow it didn’t seem right breaking the news of his loss right here in front of everyone. “ . . . helped me find my way home.”

  Without him saying anything, she seemed to understand, not asking the question he was leaving unanswered, even as Fledge chose that moment to come fluttering down from the ship’s rigging to alight on his shoulder.

  “I’m glad you’re safe,” Amelia said.

  “You’re teaching school now?” Atlas asked, peering past her to the open doors of the schoolroom.

  “Well, with Mr. Merritt gone, someone had to do something to teach these kids,” Amelia said. “I was in town asking for news every morning, and I think the Mayor was tired of me pestering him for help all day. I think he gave me the job partly so I’d have a reason to leave him alone. Though with the Earthen Relic missing, it’s been a challenge. There’s only so much I can teach these kids. Lord knows they’re already tired of hearing about goat ranching.” Amelia smiled wanly. “But I do the best I can.”

  “I have something that will help with that,” Atlas said. “I was kind of hoping you might be willing to take it.” He reached into his jacket and removed the relic cube and handed it to her. Then he pulled the relic key from around his neck and held that out as well. “Enzo said we should keep the key in the family, but the knowledge is for everybody.”

  “Look at you,” Amelia said, accepting the relic key carefully. “Atlas the Knower.”

  Atlas shook his head. “I think I’ve still got a lot left to learn.” He smiled. “But I’ve got a good teacher.”

  Kipling stood on a hill overlooking the Ridge Valley. They’d relocated the Restless Fury to Enzo’s ranch and the crew was busy securing the rigging in anticipation of departure. Atlas had offloaded his airship and refilled the tanks on the Sun Dragon with the equipment in his grandfather’s barn. His first order of business was to take Amelia up for a ride.

  Samra went for a ride, too. The little airship was overhead now, gliding around the ranch in slow, easy turns. It was hardly an exhibition of the Dragon’s true abilities, but Kipling figured they had all seen enough action to last them a while. Kipling did wonder what they were talking about up there, but he knew if Samra ever wanted to share it with him, she would.

  The Sun Dragon glided back to the ground a few minutes later and his friends hopped out. Atlas sauntered over to where Kipling was standing. “Sure you don’t want one more ride? There are no scarabs or tree people to get us this time.”

  Kipling smiled but shook his head. “I think we’d better get going. Seems like the winds are still favorable, and Warehime says her bones are predicting bad weather on the horizon. Whatever that means.”

  Atlas nodded. “Best get flying while the skies are clear. You have a plan for how to catch the globe patch?”

  “It will drift a little differently since it’s all broken up, but I have a good idea where it ought to be right now,” Kipling said. “With any luck, they might be in a slower current and it’ll give us a chance to catch up. We’ll keep chasing it till we do.”

  Atlas extended his hand. “I guess it’s goodbye, then.”

  Kipling ignored the hand and gave Atlas a hug.

  Samra laughed.

  Atlas got a hug from Samra as well, and a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “I hope you find your parents,” Atlas said. “and the missing colonies.”

  “I’ve got a good navigator,” Samra said. “We’ll find them.”

  Atlas walked with them to the Restless Fury and stood ahead of the ship so he could wave to them as they took off. Samra took the airship up and backward for a little ways before finally making the turn toward the Rift. Her eyes were on the boy until he disappeared from sight below the hull, and the mountains rose large in their view.

  “You okay saying goodbye?” Kipling asked.

  Samra kept her attention ahead. “It’s not goodbye. We’ll be back.” A smile was playing at the corners of her mouth.

  “Looks like you two have this well in hand,” Sunburn commented from behind them. He was standing and leaning on the captain’s chair instead of sitting in it. He claimed it was uncomfortable for a man his size and over the past few days he’d tended to spend more of his time above decks than in the cockpit. “I’ll just go check on the rest of the crew. Can’t have them getting soft just because there’s no one around with a whip anymore.” He nodded to Kipling and Samra and disappeared out the back hatch again.

  Samra settled lower into her seat. She looked comfortable there, her eyes intent on the mountains.

  They navigated the Rift without incident and by early evening they were headed for the open air above the highlands. One of the moons was peeking over the horizon and a few planets already glowed in the twilight.

  Samra looked over to Kipling. “So, you ready to go on another adventure?”

  “I’m friends with you, so I’m already living one.” He grinned at her. “Let’s go home.”

  Samra pushed the power levers forward, pulled back on the control wheel, and the Restless Fury climbed for the open sky.

  EPILOGUE

  The cockpit windows were coated in dust and the sounds of the outside world were muffled.

  Erin Savage had never found her father’s airship a joyous place, but as she was escorted into the battered bridge, the mood seemed especially grim.

  Eric was slumped in the chair at the end of their father’s war table, facing the bridge windows and nursing his broken arm. Marlow hadn’t been cleaned up. Her father had merely been laid across the table. His clothes were caked with dirt and his hands were hastily crossed over his chest. A faded captain’s hat had been found and now covered his face. The rows upon rows of relic keys still burdened his throat beneath his beard. Erin felt the compulsion to remove them, but it didn’t matter now. Marlow had t
aken his last breath days ago.

  “She enters. The source of our calamity,” Eric commented.

  Erin waited. She had learned many years ago that attempting to defend herself prior to one of her brother’s tirades only prolonged the effects. But that was also before. Before there was an opportunity to lead.

  “And now I hear they’ve brought down the gate. I trust you’re satisfied with yourself.”

  “The Storm Gate can be reopened,” Erin said.

  “That would take months,” Eric hissed from the other side of the table. “Our fleet will be torn to ribbons out here. Without the port we’ll be battered against the rocks in the first real storm. Not to mention that the mountain is held by mutineers.”

  “You’ll have to head south,” Aspen said. Eric’s first mate was standing behind her brother. His voice was calm. Too calm. It seemed to slither out of him. Erin tensed at his words. “We can make our way around the mountains,” Aspen continued. “Take the long route east beyond the high passes, then turn northward again. Once they’ve ceased to expect us, we’ll fall on them and retake the port. Then we can restart the excavation.”

  “We don’t need the excavation anymore,” Eric said. “We need to find the culprits responsible for this and make them pay.”

  “Without the excavation, the Starfire will be lost. Your father spent years—”

  “I am not my father!” Eric shouted. He shoved himself up from the table. “I don’t care about his treasure hunt, or his dreams of leaving this world. Look where it got him!” He gestured toward the table.

  Aspen didn’t look at Marlow. He stared straight ahead.

  “Leave us,” Eric ordered.

  Aspen dutifully walked to the cabin door and exited, closing it gently behind him.

  Eric adjusted the sling supporting his broken arm, then wiped a hand across his face before turning to Erin and continuing in a calmer tone. “Our father built an empire here. An empire where we rested securely in the knowledge that our family always had the upper hand. We had the best resources, the best tools, and the greatest trove of knowledge at our disposal to gain more. People all looked to us to give them answers. They needed us! There is only one relic they need now, and it’s aboard your ship.” Eric stabbed a finger at her. “Whoever holds that relic holds the power. So, that’s where we’ll be going. We’ll gather our weapons from the fallen ships and move out tonight. There will be no safe space in this sky for those thieves and murderers.”