Symphony of the Wind

by Steven McKinnon

  Catryn hobbled across the office, the servomotors in her brace whirring. ‘What’s this all about? I was looking forward to getting out of this damn cassock and into real clothes.’

  ‘The Mathieson files reference you.’

  ‘I’m honoured. Got a light?’

  ‘The Spire at Outpost One Three Seven—it kept spitting lightning after the core was destroyed. The Liberty Wind’s pilot said it was different from the others. Know anything about that?’

  ‘Can’t say I do.’

  Fallon leaned closer. ‘Your Lightning Harness. Tell me about it.’

  Pain still gnawed at Damien’s body. No matter. It would heal when he got to the Solacewood, where he could meditate—where he could find peace.

  He clutched his leather bag. Fumes danced around him, tinkling music from the ceiling. Normality, like none of it had happened.

  ‘You sure you don’t want the others here?’ asked Tyson.

  ‘Yes. Until I am… sure I won’t hurt anyone, I should be alone.’ Sunlight filtered through the crystal glass and painted the train station in white gold. ‘Now, Tyson, I need you to listen to me.’

  ‘I’ll remember to turn your stove off.’

  ‘At the Raincatchers’ funeral,’ Damien continued, ‘you asked me why I didn’t kill you.’

  Gallows shifted. ‘Is it really the time?’

  ‘Well beyond it, in fact.’ Damien placed a hand on Gallows’ shoulder. ‘You have refused to embrace the life I saved. When you were in that cell and I came to kill you, do you know why I refused?’

  Gallows shook his head.

  ‘You’d been beaten to within an inch of your life. Tormented by the Grand Perceptor. You were a husk of a man.’

  ‘Gee. Thanks.’

  ‘I looked into your eyes and saw a void. I am a man who relishes the art of killing. I’ve slaughtered enemies, criminals—not because they deserved punishing but because I enjoyed it. But as my fingers wrapped around your throat, you looked up at me, resigned to your fate. More than that, you wished for it.

  ‘I could not bring myself to kill you. I would derive no pleasure from it. I could not enjoy the moment when life slipped from your eyes, because there was no life there to begin with. You were broken. I withdrew my hand and freed you—and the seed of a notion grew in me and turned to obsession: If I could save this man—choose life over death —then perhaps I am not the monster I believed myself to be. Perhaps I could find redemption.

  ‘You believe that I saved your life that day, Tyson—but the truth is, you saved mine.’

  Gallows opened his mouth but no words came.

  ‘Don’t waste your life,’ said Damien.

  Behind him, a voice called, ‘All aboard!’

  They shook hands and Damien made his way into the private compartment. Acidic ignium filled the air, and the train rumbled into life. Damien felt the chug of the engine, heard the hiss of the air reservoir, felt the motion of the pistons. The train rolled into the steep darkness of a tunnel, Dalthea disappearing at his back.

  I’m still here, ‘Damien’. I’ll always be here.

  ‘Bye,’ said Serena, embracing Genevieve. The singer’s face was hidden behind dark glasses.

  ‘Stay out of trouble now,’ implored Fabian, embracing Serena. ‘And remember, you’re always welcome to our concerts.’

  ‘I’ll take you up on that. Good luck on the Queen of the North.’

  Aulton chuckled. ‘After the last few days, performing to rich, lazy fools with too much money will be a walk in the park.’

  ‘Thanks for your help,’ Gallows said. Genevieve angled her head away from him.

  Serena looked around. It had been a day since the skyport had been reopened and already the sky was alive with airships. Drimmon wouldn’t be joining them—said he had a wedding to plan. She’d miss him.

  ‘Right then, Angelo,’ she started, ‘you ready for a life of adventure and derring-do?’

  A frown creased Angelo’s forehead. ‘I’m not coming.’

  Serena laughed. ‘What are you talking about? Of course you are. What happened to us taking to the skies, living free?’

  ‘That was your dream. Not mine. Never wanted to go. You just assumed.’

  Her heart sank. ‘You really ain’t coming?’

  Angelo shook his head.

  Guess he’s right. She was always the one with grand designs and fancy dreams. She always assumed Angelo would follow her. She took him for granted. ‘How’s Captain Crimsonwing and the Sky Pirate’s Daughter?’ she asked.

  ‘Finished it. Got Armada of the Damned next.’

  ‘Cool. Can I borrow it?’

  Angelo’s face lit up. He took his battered copy of Sky Pirate’s Daughter and handed it to her. The cheap, pulpy paper felt good in her hands, and she liked the bright reds and yellows of its garish cover.

  ‘You like Captain Crimsonwing now?’

  ‘Well, he’s alright, I guess.’ She took a step towards him and lowered her voice. ‘I’ll give this back one day. I promise.’

  ‘You’re… crying,’ observed Angelo.

  ‘I’m not crying.’

  ‘You’re crying.’

  Serena threw her arms around him. ‘You saved my life. You and the Wind. You’re my best mate, Angelo.’

  ‘When did I-’

  ‘Fortune find you, Angelo.’

  ‘Fortune find you, Serena.’

  ‘How did you know I wouldn’t make you kill yourself?’ asked Serena.

  ‘I didn’t,’ Gallows replied, flicking switches on the dash. New rotors had been affixed to the Wind, Tugarin’s team had given her a good scrub, and her tech and machines had all been replaced and upgraded. ‘I hoped.’

  ‘Hope? You were about to die, and hope saved you?’

  Gallows ran a hand through his hair. ‘Sometimes hope is all you have. How did you break free of the spell?’

  ‘Uh, I took your advice. Thought about something I loved.’

  She didn’t elaborate, and Gallows didn’t ask her to.

  ‘For the love of Nyr, please tell me there is tea on this airship.’ Myriel’s voice lilted through the bridge. Scruff barked.

  ‘Take that as a “yes”,’ said Serena. ‘Clara kept a supply under the floorboards in the kitchen. You’ll find rum down there too.’

  ‘Rejoice! Can’t start an adventure without tea.’

  ‘Or rum,’ added Gallows.

  Enoch’s heavy footsteps made the floorboards creak. ‘All of the equipment is in place,’ he said. His voice sounded pained but for a dead guy recently tortured and burned, he looked pretty good. He’d wrapped his coat around himself, red eyes glowing soft within the hood. ‘I will travel with you as far as Palthonheim.’

  ‘You reckon you’ll find answers there?’ asked Serena.

  ‘Palthonheim was the greatest house of knowledge in the world. It’s where I died—where Korvan and I died. If the radiation only affects the living as Thackeray said, I’ll be safe. If you’ll excuse me, I am weary and wish to rest before we embark on our trip I’ll leave Shog—aplogies, Scruff in your hands.’

  ‘So,’ Serena started when Enoch had left. She fed her pet flickertail with seeds. ‘You sure you can fly my airship?’

  ‘Been a while since I piloted an airship,’ Gallows admitted, ‘but I reckon I’ll remember.’

  Serena threw herself down into Drimmon’s seat. ‘Fitz always said he’d teach me to fly.’

  ‘Did he now?’

  ‘Yep. Well, I say “always”—he mentioned it once when he was drunk.’

  ‘I’ll teach you,’ said Gallows.

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Sure. As long as you promise me something in return.’ Gallows looked at her, eyes hard.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t know what happens from here. I don’t know if this temple in Tarevia will have the answers you need. Your powers are different from the Grand Perceptor’s. For a while, you made me believe the thoughts in my head were mine. With
Nidra, it was like watching someone else’s actions through their own eyes. She made me… do things I didn’t want to do. I tried to break free but I couldn’t. She used me as a toy, Serena. When I didn’t have the answers she wanted, she made me… She made me betray Sera. She forced me into her bed, violated me. I tried to, but I couldn’t stop… Not until the small part still inside me focused on Sera—focused on the one thing I loved above all else. I don’t know how it works but it tuned everything else out. It might have been a fluke. I’ll never know. It’s taken me years to realise it, but she doesn’t have power over me any more.’

  ‘Belios, Gallows. I’m so sorry.’

  Gallows turned his gaze from Serena. ‘We’ve made enemies. Some will want to harness your power. Some will want to kill you. Good, evil, whatever—how you use your abilities is up to you—or don’t use ’em at all. It has to be your choice, Serena. But whatever happens, things could get worse before they get better.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘I get that.’

  ‘Good. Because we’re gonna have to trust each other. And that means you don’t use your powers on me.’

  Serena arched an eyebrow. ‘Sure. Make sure you don’t annoy me and I won’t have to.’

  ‘Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t joke about this. I don’t know if the Raincatchers have some oath or whatever, but I need you to promise me. Swear that you’ll never get inside my head. Even if it means letting me die.’

  Serena shifted in her seat. ‘Bit intense, but sure. I swear.’

  Gallows turned the engines on.

  ‘Cool,’ said Serena. ‘So, Tarevia?’

  Serena clutched the handrail and let the wind caress her hair. The melody of the new engines washed over her, and the whir of the rotors spun their own harmony.

  The Wind sailed through Wrenwing Gap—imposing, craggy walls looming so close, Serena could reach out and touch them.

  A patrol craft hovered nearby like a stationery silver cloud, and double-A turrets embedded within the rocks glared out at the Wind. But they remained silent; Lockwood had kept her word, then… But what of Thackeray’s loyalists? What of all the men and women in the kingdom who agreed with his dogma, who believed everything he’d preached? Serena doubted they’d stay quiet for long.

  The Liberty Wind passed through mountain the passage, leaving the Steelpeaks—and the kingdom of Dalthea—behind. Serena would come back one day.

  She had her airship. Got her crew. Found her family. Right now, the whole world opened up to her. She’d see the glaciers of Tarevia, the steel cities of Ryndara, the rolling green hills of Aludan.

  The Idari. Did they believe she was dead? Were they out there, beyond the Poison Veil, amassing their fleets and sharpening their blades? They’d waged war because of her. Burned the Sanctecano Islands. Wreaked death and destruction across Dalthea. Serena would be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life.

  But right now, she closed her eyes.

  The End

  I hope you enjoyed this book. You’d make me a happy writer if you left a brief review!

  Get the prequel novella, The Fury Yet To Come, absolutely FREE by joining the Raincatchers’ Guild Mailing List!

  Click the image below for more info!

  ‘Fortune Find You!’

  Also by Steven McKinnon

  The Raincatcher’s Ballad

  Symphony of the Wind

  The Fury Yet To Come

  Other works

  Boldly Going Nowhere

  The Vividarium, featured in the anthology In Memory: A Tribute to Sir Terry Pratchett

  GoogleFuture, featured in Issue 6 of The High Flight Fanzine

  Acknowledgements

  Without the advice, suggestions and constructive criticism of my beta readers, this book would never have been completed (thanks particularly go to Lauren, who was the first person to read the whole thing over a period of many months). So, to everyone in the Fantasy B-Team: Thank you.

  Thanks also to Andi Marlowe at Andromeda Editing for tightening the manuscript.

  Fist bumps and consolatory hugs to the friends and family members who were all neglected while this book was being forged. I would apologise, but I’ve already started work on Book Two, so…

  Cheers go to Alan, Sinéad and Callan, and Ryan and Rachel.

  Thanks to my mum Jeana, for listening to an excited son as he told her about all the sword fights, explosions and action sequences, and why they are essential to any story…

  All the movies, computer games, bands, books and TV shows I’ve ever loved have left their footprint somewhere within these pages—so thanks to my granda Henry for the Westerns (and boxing), Ross for the PlayStation games, and Auntie Sally for the formative cinema trips.

  Thank you to my dad, Charlie, for not only being the greatest father in the world, but for the Sci-Fi, card games, Bond movies, Queen songs and childhood sessions of Space Invaders (and more Westerns). I wish we could watch, listen to and play them together one last time.

  Finally, deepest thanks to the wonderful and incomparable Zoe, who—more than anyone—has provided a wealth of love and support that no mortal man deserves, but which this one is eternally grateful for.

  About the Author

  Symphony of the Wind is Steven McKinnon’s first fiction novel, and is Book One of The Raincatcher’s Ballad. The Fury Yet To Come is a prequel novella set in the same world.

  His first book, the true-life tale Boldly Going Nowhere, was released in 2015.

  Steven is 32 years old, and was born in the bathroom of a high-rise flat in the year 1986.

  He has since moved out.

  Copyright © Steven McKinnon 2018

  Steven McKinnon asserts the right to be identified as the author of this work under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  All rights reserved. Except for the use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means is forbidden without the express permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design by James T. Egan of Bookfly Design

  First Digital Edition

  This is an independently-published title released under

  Vividarium Books and the V-Book logo are registered trademarks

  www.stevenmckinnon.net