A Leaf and Pebble

by Andrew Monroe

  “There’s nothing mystical about them,” I replied, an edge to my voice. “Just lots of will power and studying.” They both rolled their eyes. “Fine, how much of an ‘assist’ do we need?” I hadn’t been practicing my jumps since the infection, and most likely would fail miserably, drowning us both in the process.

  She looked thoughtful for a moment, before stepping back towards the far end of the hold, gesturing for us to follow. “All that you can manage.” She gestured, some non-verbal command I had seen her use with crew members. Volant took the hint and was off in an instant, dashing down the hold and flinging himself into the darkness.

  I felt her grab a hold of my belt and yank. So, I too began to run, though dragged may be more accurate. Near the end of the plank I began to draw focus and pushed Skill down into my feet, willing it to build there. My thoughts narrowed into one idea. Jumping as far as I could. Skill burst beneath me, splintering the plank into hundreds of pieces as I jumped. The leap took me by surprise, Andreska attached to my belt barely noticeable with how hard I pushed off. A sharp puff of ozone washed past us as we flew through the air. The added boost only lasted for a few precious seconds, and then Andreska let go, and we both began to fall faster than was safe.

  Still, our descent was long and terrifying. It looked like there was no way we would even hit the city, much less fall down the enormous air towers that led into the Below. The angle we were moving at would mean splattering into whatever we found first, even if it was the inner side of the giant holes. Both the water and towers grew closer the longer we half floated down, until the city began to look less toy like, and more giant metropolis with hard stone looming up at us.

  Fortunately, the push I had given us actually seemed to have worked. We might just end up near the towers at the right altitude. I was a decently further along than Andreska, what with the overburdened fallpack not being able to slow me down as much as it did her. I sped over the water towards the closest two towers, clearing the gently bobbing city below. Surprise replaced fear when I spotted Volant casually standing on the edge of the second tower’s wall. Then the fear came back when I realized we were eye level and falling too fast towards the tower to walk away with all my bones in one piece. My will power was tapped, and I had nothing left on the Skill front.

  Volant waved cheerily to me, watching as I fell towards him and then below him. A half dozen paces away from the tower I felt an enormous gust of wind, pushing on my fallpack with a steady enough force to keep me aloft. Instead of falling, I began to drift up until he reached out a hand, pulling me gently up and onto the ledge next to him.

  Similarly, he saved his mother, though we had to toss a short rope to reel her in. Without preamble, she pushed us into the yawning maw of the air tower and we fell down into the depths. A pin prick of light below grew slowly larger as I dropped down. After some oppressive darkness, I began to make out circular style buildings, all small and made of wood below us.

  Suddenly we were free of the tower and falling in an unbelievably enormous and well-lit cavern. Few people were out that I could see, though the ones that were had already spotted us against the backdrop of their cavern ceiling. I looked up back towards the tunnel, but couldn’t see anything with the fallpack floating above me.

  Directly below, four perfectly round gardens grew, one beneath each of the tunnels I assumed. Two spiraling metal staircases met the ground from one of the tower mouths. These both landed just outside of the gardens next to what I assumed was the official entrance and exit of Brod’s Below.

  A group of people had formed and waited beneath us, watching the final few minutes of our descent curiously. I could see that one man had a bundle of rope and a short bow.

  When close enough, the man shot the rope up, almost perfectly hovering in front of me. I reached out and caught it. Like a child’s kite, I was quickly pulled by the man away from the garden until I was drifting down above a spot between a walled section of huts. Without saying a word, the same man ran back to his starting position, rope caster loaded into the bow. Volant and Andreska were also towed away from the tower’s mouth, heading towards my landing spot.

  I dropped all my supplies hoping they’d not burst, and lightened myself enough that I only mostly crashed into the soft sand that made up the Below’s floor. Volant moved himself with a strong gust at his back, landing beside me with a lopsided and insane grin. Andreska too, landed with the same look which seemed far out of character for her.

  Both looked like they had gotten away with something they shouldn’t have. Which I guess was true considering we were sidestepping both the law of man and the law of nature. I too began to grin, mostly out of relief, and only a little because it actually was fun to cheat fate like that.

  A wrinkled smile crossed the stranger’s face. “Andreska,” he said warmly, “I’m glad this little plan of yours worked. That letter was rather vague, so you’ll have to fill me in on why you needed to arrive via an air tower, in defiance of some specific laws about you cloudlings doing exactly such a thing.”

  To my surprise, Andreska showed her softer side with a huge hug to the man. “Good to see you again, you old vagabond.” Genuine joy danced in her eyes in contrast to her usual stony glare. “How’d you convince that crowd not to come chase us down and turn me over to the Thumpers?”

  “The crowd was mine, of course. Or at least the majority of them. Those who weren’t, or any Thumpers that saw you, were blocked or turned away long enough for us to get you presentable. The man turned, looking to Volant. “Ah, this must be the no-longer-little Volant. My, it’s been a while.” He stuck out a hand, which Volant slowly took. “Name’s Berjio, the old vagabond, as your mother has so named me.” He winked, the slow and obvious kind that only a man with gray hair can pull off well.

  “Truth be told,” Volant said with a chuckle, “I don’t remember having met you before.”

  Andreska stepped over at this, gesturing us away from the garden and towards a darker street than where we were. “Most likely because you were barely a year old when we last saw good Berjio. He was the man who taught me the sword, back when it was still frowned upon for a woman to carry one.” She turned and poked a small hole with her rapier into the seam of Volant’s fallpack, then did the same for mine, and then finished with hers.

  This nearly made Volant’s jaw unhinge as it fell open in mute horror. One never let out the gas from fallpacks, he’d told me. Andreska would toss a sky sailor overboard for such a thing. She did it without so much as a blink.

  Berjio turned to me as we began to walk at a brisk pace on the sandy floor. “You and I have not had the pleasure,” he said lightly.

  “Nil,” I said, still drained from my push off the ship. A slight nod in his direction was all I could manage as I walked. “Really, I am just a tag along here. The jump was not quite my idea.”

  I received a nod and a handshake. High up on his forearm was the rose and hammer tattoo like Rook had. Before I could ask if it was from the same group as Rook, he was off speaking with Captain Andreska again.

  “So, my dear,” he said, lowering his voice an octave, “what brought you to my soggy corner of the world after so long?”

  Before she could answer, Volant, with mild horror in his voice, held out his deflated pack. “Did you just do that? I thought the gas in these was worth a fortune.”

  She glared in response, eyes narrowing. “We’re not among our people Volant, and I did what I had to for us to stay disguised. A cost I’m willing to pay.” She turned to Berjio and shrugged. “A story for when we’re inside.”

  The rest of the walk, and the remainder of the evening inside Berjio’s circular wood hut was spent catching him up on everything that had happened, and simultaneously not falling asleep. A small pile of short haired furs made up my bed, while the less hard side of my bag pretended to be a pillow.

  After waking up from a near perfect night’s sleep, I realized I had been neglecting my Skill practice since the infection be
yond some light dexterity work in Thran’s leaf’s hold. Volant was already up, his own pile of furs tightly rolled and piled where he had slept, along with bag and rapier leaning against the wall behind them.

  Either end of the perfectly round wood structure had a small door, curving with the wall it was inlaid. One was sturdy wood, whereas the other was nothing but overlapping ropes, thick as my forearm.

  “Hope Nil wakes up before we run out of bread,” a muffled chuckle said, faintly sounding like Berjio.

  Nose pulling me forward, I stumbled towards the rope wall while tugging on my remaining boot. I fell through into the second room, part kitchen and part lounge. My stomach grumbled in protest, demanding food or suffer its endless wrath. Using up so much Skill last night had made for a hungry morning.

  Berjio, Volant, and Andreska all sat around an enormous pan while munching on butter soaked, heavenly smelling korbit. With their mouths full, I received an inviting wave from Volant and Berjio simultaneously. I certainly didn’t need any further invitation.

  A cooking tripod, which held the skillet low over a smokeless and sunken fire, contained a tray stuck between two of the legs. Healthy sized rolls, a bowl of uncooked meat and eggs mixed together sat on the tray, and a slab of butter sat next to that. Korbits were a universal food, though every baker had their own personal spin on the best way to serve the poor man’s breakfast.

  I took a knife in one hand, and the korbit in the other. Slowly, I sliced through the middle of the roll under the knife’s sharp edge. Once cut, I buttered it up, and dropped it to sizzle on the skillet. Berjio nodded in approval as I dipped a second roll cut wide open into the egg and meat bowl, filling the valley with the protein mixture. Very gently, I set this in the skillet, making sure not to spill.

  The buttered roll held me over until the korbit was fried both top and bottom, cooking the proteins all the way through. While I ate, Volant finished his up and fixed up another following a similar process, and so did everyone else until we all had stomachs near bursting.

  “Andreska,” Berjio said gravely once everyone had leaned back from the breakfast with contented sighs. “I’ve got some bad news, and I guess now’s as good of a time as it gets.” Before continuing, though, he gave her a long look, eyes flicking towards us. She nodded almost imperceptibly, but the exchange was enough to tell he was asking if she wanted to talk in front of us as if we were children needing to be sent out while the adults talked. “It’s Cralil. He never made it to Brod, and I heard that he had stopped by your ship. And, considering the secrecy involving your son and his friend, I’m worried it’s connected.”

  Volant groaned at this, burying his head in his hands.

  “That is not good news,” Andreska agreed. “What about the ship he was on?”

  With a sad shake of the head, Berjio’s frown deepened. “He made one of the hops, but the second ship was never seen.”

  “I’ll have to look into this. Thank you for telling me.” Andreska rose, no longer wearing the content smile she’d had after breakfast so shortly ago. “I need you two to stay here, where it’s safe,” Andreska said as she became the Captain again. Her intricate system of belts were slung about, tied, knotted and cinched, all to hold her long sword and various pouches containing a myriad of mysterious contents. Within a few minutes, she was ready to go and looked about as dangerous as they come. The fire smoldering in her eyes certainly didn’t soften her features either.

  We both nodded amiably, and I smiled in contrast to the deception I felt inside. No sooner had we arrived at Berjio’s, I told Volant there would be no more hiding for me. I was not planning on staying under someone’s protection again. A tight hug, and whispered goodbye, and Volant had seen his mother off. Berjio seemed the most emotional of us, not saying a word, but holding the captain in a much longer embrace before she left.

  “Thank you for your kindness, and all you have done for me,” I said wholeheartedly to Andreska. “Volant is lucky to have you for a mother.” We shook hands, warmth and formality mixing together in the goodbye. I wondered if she knew we planned to leave as well. A look in her eye said she might at least suspect.

  All day after she left we spent with Berjio exploring Brod as he taught us sword theory. His thoughts on the subject were nothing short of amazing, and part of me yearned to stay and study with him.

  Around us, a humidity held an oppressive sway over us. It felt like breathing water, though at least this deep under the lake kept that humidity cool. Almost all the homes we saw were nearly the same build, varying only in size of the circular huts. Apparently, these were specially designed to float in the event of flooding.

  Berjio may have been joking, I couldn’t tell. When we stopped in one such hut to see a friend of his, the man pointed out various trunks and hanging baskets that would save the more valuable possessions he owned if a flood like catastrophe were to strike. In the hundreds of years that the Below had been in existence, no such flooding had ever occurred. Plus, there were so many huts now, they probably wouldn’t all make it up the shafts. But living underneath a lake probably affected one’s psychology in weird ways.

  Introductions were made, Volant and I pretending to be a pair of orphans who were coming to Berjio’s to learn, entertainers yet again. Though Berjio himself was nothing of the sort, he was apparently wealthy enough that no one batted an eye at him supporting two maestros-in-the-making. I juggled for a few disbelievers, and Volant did a handstand for one lady, somehow proving himself despite it not being the most impressive acrobatics.

  It seemed like a lot of work when we’d be gone by the next morning, but pretenses had to be maintained. When night came, I wrote a hasty letter thanking Berjio for his hospitality, and a short apology for leaving him without warning. He seemed to be a man of his word, and we were both worried he would try and stop us. And possibly succeed, considering the level of awe Andreska had for his swordsmanship.

  Bag over my shoulder, knives tightly strapped about me and axe tucked in my belt, we snuck out of Berjio’s dwelling and began the long trek up to the harbor. Though the Below sat at the bottom of a lake, you would never know it apart from the lack of sunlight and humidity. It felt very similar to Kalaran, all things said and done. Having spent less than a day in it, it felt like leaving home again. Or at least the second home that Kalaran’s subterranean city had become to me.

  At the top of the incredibly tall stairs, we ran into a Guard, wielding a professionally worn in spear with a lantern shining on the end. In the dim light, all I could see was his enormous beard, and a pair of flinty eyes sitting below an old helmet.

  “Stamps, gentlemen,” he said gruffly, voice echoing slightly in the tower’s wide walls.

  I saw Volant’s hand slowly curling into a fist. His weight shifting ever so slightly in preparation for a fight. Brod still existed in the dark ages, and required any non-city resident to receive permission to be anywhere in their city. Which would have alerted people we were here. Which was exactly what Andreska was hoping to avoid with our not so stealthy but undocumented arrival.

  Stepping forward, I sat my bag down before the man. “Just a moment, it’s somewhere in this mess of a sack.” Though I had faith Volant could take the man down, violence would only hinder our escape from the floating harbor. “Ah ha!” I exclaimed, whipping out a worn and wrinkled booklet.

  The man took it, flipping open to the page which should have had a stamp saying we had been granted access to the Below, which was completely blank, of course. “You don’t have any permissions for here or Brod proper.” Suspicion darkened his eyes further, while fear knotted in my stomach.

  “Ah, that’s right, sadly.” I took another step forward, trying to look sheepish. “We had the misfortune of coming in with the other crewmen from Wydvis. There were so many of us, and so much pushing and shoving, the entry clerk gave up in frustration and said to be about it and only stamped the half of us!” A story formed in my mind, and I ran with it, stepping between Volant and t
he man, just in case. “Then, when we came down, the other Guard saw we lacked an entry stamp, but didn’t want to take the time to deal with us, and I quote ‘not mess with a mountain of paperwork because some other god spawn was too lazy to start the process correctly.’ “

  The Guard shook his head, and let out a sigh of exasperation. “I’m with him. Just be off with you. You sorry sons of fish thieves better keep me out of it if you’re caught.”

  The knot in my stomach released as I bent down to replace the stamp book. By the time I was up again, the door through the air tower’s wall was open, and we were but a hop and a skip away from fresh, humid, outdoor air. The starry sky greeted us, and we climbed down a flight of steps to the first deck that was moored to the great stone tower. The solid wood platform was as stable as anything on Wydvis’ flying city.

  Here though, almost every wooden surface was covered in trestle gardens, roots flowing down and across the wood to hang over the sides questing for lake water. Small iron bridges locked the massive platforms in place, allowing for the very little movement while also providing multiple crossing points.

  “That should not have worked,” Volant said once we were out of earshot of the Guard.

  “Agreed. He probably had orders to pass the info on if anyone tried exactly that.” I sighed. “Doubt we have much time before some squad is hunting us down. More importantly, how the hell do we get off this garden?” Frustration creeping into my voice. This was becoming a botched affair, both on Andreska’s part for sneaking us in, and our lack of planning for the sneaking out bit. Brod was infinitely larger than I had thought when we flew over it. I couldn’t tell which direction was the shore.

  “Boat, of course.” Volant replied, always the more level headed of us. Then, before continuing, he turned his head to the sky, taking in the stars.

  Following his lead, I too looked to the stars. A constellation showed the direction to Erset. “There.” I pointed low on the horizon, just slightly to the right of us.