Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-Six

By mid-afternoon, things had settled into a normal routine. The Scallywags and our harpy crewmates were moving about, making sure everything was in proper order, but it wasn’t with any sort of urgency. There were ropes to tie and sails to deploy, but we weren’t doing any sort of fancy flying. If it took a minute or two, then that was fine.

I took some time to give the Beaver Cleaver  an inspection tour after lunch. Just a quick walk around the outside, eyes peeled to notice frayed rope or sails that might need mending. So far though, there wasn’t anything of the sort.

With Awen and Clive both making sure the Beaver  was in tip-top shape, the ship was sure to stay afloat for a long time.

“Hello Orange,” I said as I reached the very front of the port hull. That’s where Orange chose to park herself today, right atop the head of our duck-shaped figurehead.

The cat was on her side and curled up in a ball, her fur kind of just... lumping off the top of the duck head like a physical manifestation of laziness in blob form.

“Working hard, I see,” I said with a giggle.

The cat cracked one eye open, yawned, and snuggled in tighter.

I reached up and started petting her, which was rewarded a moment later when she started rumbling. “You’re getting a bit big for the figurehead, aren’t you?” I asked. If she continued growing at her current rate, in a few weeks she’d have a hard time sleeping there. Or maybe she’d slow down and it wouldn’t be a problem. “I’ll ask Awen. I’m sure we can rig up some sort of board or something for you to sleep on. Maybe a box?”

She continued purring, which I decided to interpret as acceptance.

My tour of the Beaver  complete, at least for the moment, I descended down to the cabins level, then took a moment to peek in on Awen.

Awen was usually a very lady-like sleeper, even if she didn’t pick up her room that much. Today seemed to be the exception, with her arms and legs sprawled out all over and her nightgown tangled up in a way that was very scandalous.

I clicked the door shut. If she was making little ‘awa-awa’ snores, then she was probably just fine.

“Hey.”

I turned and found Amaryllis at the back of the ship, one shoulder leaning against the wall.

“Oh, hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Right now? Us. Looking in on Awen?”

I nodded. “I was worried she was still feeling sick.” I gestured to the door to Awen’s cabin. “She looks fine though.”

“She will be,” Amaryllis dismissed. “I doubt she’ll be drinking so much next time. And her sleep schedule might be messed up after today.”

“Maybe she can take the first night shift, then,” I said. “I wouldn’t mind keeping her company. Truth is I’m not doing much to make myself useful right now.”

“Hmph,” Amaryllis said. “I just finished our accounting. Not too sure what to do myself. I might practice my Puppetry.”

“We have accounting?”

One of her brows rose. “How do you think we can afford food? Not to mention fuel and other necessities.”

“Oh,” I said. “You’re good with numbers and such, right?”

Amaryllis’ eyes narrowed. “Yes. I had a full education.”

“Do you think you could help me with my class stuff? With skill points and all? I’ve been meaning to ask you for help for a little bit.”

“Hmph, yeah, sure,” she said. “Come on, this might be better with pen and paper at talon.”

I grinned and followed Amaryllis to the office space at the back of the quarterdeck. In theory, this was supposed to be the captain’s cabin. It ha s  a few windows at the rear overlooking the sky and forests below, and was quite a bit bigger than any of the normal rooms. But really, it wouldn’t be fair for anyone to have a room bigger than anyone else’s. Then again... the Scallywags and other crewmates slept on hammocks. Were we being unfair?

“You’re thinking stupid thoughts again,” Amaryllis said as she reached the desk in the middle of the room and plopped herself down behind it. “Worse, I’m almost certain they have nothing to do with the situation at hand.”

“Hey!” I protested. “You’re not wrong, but it’s still kinda rude.”

“Sit down, you idiot,” Amaryllis said.

I laughed and pulled a chair from the corner over. The chairs had metal caps on their feet, with magnets built into them so that they wouldn’t get flung around if there was a bit of turbulence. I clipped the chair down onto some studs on the floor and plopped myself down. “Oh, wow, this chair is not comfy,” I said.

“I know,” Amaryllis said. “It’s why I’m in the good chair.” She wriggled atop the chair that was supposed to be the captain’s office chair. “Now, I need an idea of what your skills are like, just the skills.”

“Sure,” I said.

She passed over a pen and some paper, and I opened up Mister Menu and transcribed everything as I saw it. It was a bit strange to use a fountain pen. I kinda missed having a ballpoint pen, really.

“Here you go!” I said.

Skills

Rank

Cinnamon Bun Bun Skills

Cleaning

S - 03%

Way of the Mystic Bun

D - 100%

Gardening

D - 34%

Adorable

D - 100%

Dancing

D - 100%

Wonderlander Skills

Tea Making

C - 00%

Mad Millinery

D - 87%

General Skills

Insight

C - 96 %

Makeshift Weapon  Proficiency

D - 100%

Archeology

D - 00%

Friendmaking

C - 71%

Matchmaking

D - 57%

Hugging Proficiency

E  - 00%

Captaining

F - 00%

Cinnamon Bun Bun Skill Points

1

Wonderlander Skill Points

3

General Skill Points

4

Amaryllis looked over the list, then she slid over a piece of paper of her own.

Thundere

Rank

Thunder Aspect Manipulation

Expert

Electrostatic Discharge

Journeyman

Thunder Clap

Disciple

Mage Sight

Disciple

Electro-Couragement

Disciple

Puppeteer

Rank

String Manipulation

Disciple

Anatomical Motion

Intermediary

General Skills

Rank

Observe

Apprentice

Book Smart

Apprentice

Accounting

Apprentice

Flying

Apprentice

Business Sense

Apprentice

Negotiations

Intermediary

Bluffing

Apprentice

Huffing

Apprentice

Precision Magic

Intermediary

“Oh,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve seen your skills and stuff yet.” The ranks threw me off almost right away. If I remembered it right, Rank E was Intermediary, D was Apprentice, C was Disciple, B was Journeyman and A was Expert. She didn’t have anything above that.

“I have... a skill or two that are entirely useless. I’ll need to find a way to get rid of those.”

I star t ed at Huffing. I looked up to Amaryllis. Then I looked back down at Huffing.

“Don’t you dare,” she said.

Pinching my lips together, I managed not to laugh any. “It’s okay?” I said. “I have a useless skill too.”

“Yes, quite.”

“So, your other skills all look cool. You haven’t spent your general skill points?”

“I will,” she said. “On my newest skill. Precision Magic doesn’t exactly save any mana when I use spells, but it does make the spells themselves more effective, which means fewer spells overall. I find that I’m not fond of being a single-shot woman, and both of my classes require that I spend quite a lot of mana.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “Your Puppetry stuff is really coming along. What’s Anatomical Motion do?”

Amaryllis leaned forwards a little. “It’s a skill that helps move complex objects with string, wire and mana. It’s practically necessary if you want to move a life-like puppet. A  to puppet a living thing.”

Scary! “So, you seem to spend your points a lot across a bunch of things.”

“And you hyper focus yours,” Amaryllis said. She tapped my list with a tallon. “Cleaning at Master is impressive, but it means that a lot of your other skills haven’t really been improved past their natural limit.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know if I want to save up more points to bring it up to the next rank.”

“That would be eight points,” Amaryllis said. “Eight levels worth of points spent on one skill upgrade.”

I nodded. “But Master Cleaning is really strong. Ever since I hit Rank S I can take out Evil Roots, no problem.”

She hummed. “Well, I see two options for your Cinnamon Bun Bun class. Either you start diversifying now, maybe putting points into the other skills you enjoy, or you save up to bring Cleaning to a level that... well, I don’t know if anyone has ever gone that far with it.”

“Is Master common?” I asked.

“No, not truly. The average level in the world is likely below twenty. Most people in a city will be capped at ten unless they can visit a dungeon. It’s rare that people reach their second cap and visit a second dungeon at level twenty. And even if they do, the short-term gain for spending skill points often outweighs the benefit of waiting long enough to reach Master.”

So plenty of people had the points to get one skill to Master, but it was better to have two good skills instead of one extreme skill? It kinda made sense.

“What do you think I should do?” I asked.

Amaryllis huffed, no doubt putting that new skill of hers to good use. “I can’t tell you what to do. But I can advise you a little. I would save up for Grand Master. Your other Cinnamon Bun Bun skills aren’t that incredible. Dancing would help you in a fight, and Way of the Mystic Bun is likely a very powerful skill, seeing how hard it is to obtain, but in the long run Cleaning magic will likely trump them both.”

I nodded. “Okay. And I guess if we’re in big trouble...”

“Then you can always spend a point or two right away and obtain a fairly sizable boost to two useful skills,” she said. “Maybe you could even put some points into Adorable.”

“No!” I protested.

“It’s a powerful skill. People will underestimate you, and find you more attractive.”

I shook my head, ears flippy flopping wildly. “I’m not adorable!”

“Of course not,” she agreed. “Setting aside your main class, you have plenty of opportunities with General skills and your Wonderlander class. Tea Making is more versatile than I would have thought, though I suppose it’s not too different from the skills some good chefs have. Mad Millinery... how is that working out for you?”

I tapped my captain’s hat. “It’s buffing one skill right now. It can only give me a skill one rank below Mad Millinery, so it’s not super strong yet, but I think it’ll get better?”

“It’s a skill that allows you to have any other skill, but only at a rank below itself, and only when you’re wearing appropriate headgear.” Amaryllis rubbed at her chin. “It’s definitely one of the strangest skills I’ve ever heard of. Very flexible though. A new skill at the drop of a hat, so to speak.”

I snorted at the pun. “I guess so. I have a hunch that it’ll be really good once I hit Rank C with it.”

“You don’t have anything too powerful from that class, I don’t see why you shouldn’t invest every point you do get as soon as you get them, though you might want to save some in case you obtain a game-changing skill.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know what kind of skill I can expect from the class though.”

Amaryllis shrugged. “Level up and find out.”

“Such helpful advice.”

She shot me a look. “General skills. You barely use Insight as far as I can tell.”

“I keep forgetting!”

“Then practice not forgetting,” she said. “Otherwise it’s a waste of good points. Friendmaking has been useful, I think.”

“Very,” I said.

“Will you bring it up a rank?”

I considered it. “It would take two points. I only have four left. I guess I could?”

“It’s up to you. I’d put a point in Makeshift Weapons, though, it’s one of your only combat abilities.”

“And then a point in either Hugging Proficiency, Captaining, or Matchmaking.”

“Or don’t put any points in Friendmaking and one in each of them.”

I chewed on my lip. “I really want Hugging Proficiency. And Captaining... and Matchmaking too. I think I’d rather have those than Friendmaking at a higher rank. After all, I already have the best friends ever—I don’t need to get that many more, do I?”

Amaryllis rolled her eyes. “Moron. But it seems like a decent idea. A good spread of decently useful skills, as opposed to a single good but niche ability. The opposite of what you’re doing with Cleaning.”

“Right then!” I said. Time to spend some points!

***

Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-Seven

I wasn’t angry, just very... disappointed.

“Don’t pout at me,” Amaryllis said.

I ‘ hmphed ’ and turned my head away from the harpy. We were both on the foredeck, wind whipping by and making our clothes flip and flop along with our hair and feathers. It was a bit chilly, probably owing to the extra height.

“Don’t ‘hmph’ me,” she said.

“Fine then,” I shot back, “but that doesn’t mean that I won’t express my disappointment in you.”

“Disap-- Broccoli, we’re on a tight schedule.”

“We could have made some time,” I said. “Or at least we could have done a slow fly-by to wave to all the little buns.”

Amaryllis rolled her eyes, then set her talons on her hips. “If we did that, then you’d just insist that we stop by for a quick bit of tea, then you’d insist on seeing Carrot and her children, and then you wouldn’t be able to say no to the little ones when they asked for another tour of the Beaver.  I know you, Broccoli Bunch. You have the self-control of a lemming.”

I puffed my cheeks out. “I do not.”

“Oh yes, you do. Look at me in the eyes and tell me that you wouldn’t insist on holding the first baby bun you saw.”

I turned, refusing to look her way. “I wouldn’t,” I lied.

She huffed. I didn’t even bother translating that one. “Maybe one day we’ll be back around this area, and we can stop in to see Momma and the others. I’ve no doubt that old bun will outlive us all.”

“How can she do that?” I asked.

Amaryllis blinked, then sighed. She’d obviously been taken off-guard by my ignorance again. “Resilience makes you more resistant to things. The general belief is that it acts as a flat percentage to your body’s own capabilities.”

“Uh,” I said. “So I’m fifty-five percent tougher?”

“More like it takes fifty-five percent more energy to, for example, cut you than it would without any resilience. Even at a hundred or more, you’re not uncuttable. Resilience also makes you resist the impact of aging that much better. Again, even at over a hundred you’ll still age, just more gracefully.”

That was super neat! But I was still miffed at Amaryllis. “Even if I had the most resilience ever, it still wouldn’t protect me from the emotional damage of missing out on baby buns.”

Amaryllis groaned. “You’re such an idiot,” she said.

I couldn’t help but giggle. I really was disappointed that we’d flown right past Hopsalot while I was too busy to notice, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. Amaryllis was right about us being on a tight deadline. I couldn’t afford to turn us around now.

I promised myself that I’d return to Ho s p alot one day, and that I’d find all of the cute buns and I’d pinch every cheek and hug them all until they squeaked.

Amaryllis gave me a reluctant hug in apology, then she headed off to do... something. There was surprisingly little to do once the ship was on its way. The skies were clear, and Clive said they’d be staying that way for a while. We had two people taking care of the ship, switching out every six hours, and that was enough. My next turn at the helm wouldn’t be until tonight.

I stepped up to the very front of the ship and climbed over the rails to sit next to the figurehead. Looking down, all I could see were my feet dangling over a couple of kilometres of empty air with thick woods way below.

Good thing I wasn’t afraid of heights.

I leaned against the figurehead, then looked up a bit as Orange raised her head and stared. “Just having a sit,” I said. “I have some free time, so I figured I’d just relax a bit.”

I did have one thing I could do. My talk with Amaryllis about skills and such that morning had been pretty productive. I had points to spend and skills to improve.

Matchmaking, Captaining, Hugging Proficiency, and Makeshift Weapons Proficiency. Four skills for four points. The only problem was that of those four, the only one I could spend points on right then and there was Makeshift Weapons Proficiency.

The other three were all over the place, level-wise. It would take a bit to get them to the top of Rank D.

Makeshift Weapons Proficiency

Rank D - 100%

The ability to use non-weapons as weapons. Your ability to find and use makeshift weapons has improved.

One of my staple combat skills, at least when Cleaning magic didn’t do the trick. Way of the Mystic Bun allowed me to move and strike, but it was Makeshift Weapons that really helped smack things down. I think having a more specific weapon skill would probably be stronger, but this skill made up for it with versatility.

I couldn’t be weaponless if everything was a weapon.

Do you wish to increase Makeshift Weapons Proficiency to Rank C for One General Skill Point?

“Yes please,” I said to Mister Menu.

Makeshift Weapons Proficiency was a Stamina-based ability. That meant that at Rank C, it was likely to gain some sort of Mana-based sub-ability, at least if the current pattern held.

Congratulations! Makeshift Weapons Proficiency is now Rank C!

Makeshift Weapons Proficiency

Rank C - 00%

The ability to use non-weapons as weapons. Your ability to find and use makeshift weapons has improved. You may push mana into a non-weapon to increase its durability and strength.

“Oh,” I said as I read the prompt. That sounded really neat! “What do you think, Orange? What kind of effect does pushing magic into a thing have? It says it makes it tougher and stronger, but that’s not super precise. Maybe... Cleaning magic wrapped around the weapon?”

I could already do that, I was pretty sure. My magic control wasn’t that good, but with Cleaning magic it was easy.

Could I do it with Fire mana?

“I think I need to experiment,” I said.

Orange looked at me, then started licking her paws.

“Yeah, you’re right, not now. Especially with fire. Not on the ship.”

I leaned back against the figurehead, then grinned as Orange got up, stretched so that her back was like a banana and her butt was way up in the air, then she jump ed down and plopped herself onto my lap.

I scritched  her ears while looking out ahead. There was a big fogbank hugging the bottom of a big mountain range. From looking at a few maps I know that those were the Crying Mountains, though some people had called them the Screaming Mountains too.

My ears twitched forwards. I could hear a sound on the wind, a distant call that I couldn’t quite make out. It sounded like wind chimes. Was that the mountain range?

As we moved ahead, and I settled into my spot with Orange warming my lap, I watched the fog slip off the mountain. I couldn’t help but gasp.

There were huge pillars all across the mountainside. I couldn’t tell how big they were, exactly, but they had to be massive if they were visible from all the way where we were. Some of them started halfway down the mountain and yet were tall enough that I was certain they passed the peaks.

I leaned forwards, eyes wide to take it all in.

More crystals appeared, some no bigger than a house, others like huge pillars, and the closer we came, the louder the song grew.

And it was a song. There were calls and repeats, a chorus that returned every so often, and deep bassy, bell-tolls.

The clouds parted around the tallest peak, and I stared at a pillar of teal crystal that reached for the heavens.

I had to turn my eyes away when the sun caught on the crystal and sent bright flashes across the sky.

Orange got up, spun around once, then slumped back down, obviously she didn’t appreciate my twitching. “Sorry,” I said as I rubbed her ears.

“We’re getting close.”

I jumped about a foot in the air, arms windmilling to stay on the rail. Orange jumped off me, then floated in mid-air, relative to the Beaver ,  and glared back.

“Forgive me,” Bastion said. “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“You’re so quiet!”

“I flew a little,” he admitted.

I settled back down on the rails and let out a breath. “It’s fine,” I said. “No harm and all that.”

Orange gave me a look. Obviously her petting time had been harmed, which was very important to her.

“What’s up?” I asked Bastion.

“Just came up to see the sights,” he said. “I’ve heard of the Crying Mountains. They’re about as far from Sylphfree as the Nesting Kingdom is, but there’s just not as much of interest this way. Still, I learned about them without ever expecting to see them.”

I nodded and looked back at the mountains. “Are they natural? The big crystals, I mean?”

“No, those are Crys crystals. We might meet some of them at the Grey Wall.”

People who built using giant crystals. That was cool. “And that noise, the song?”

Bastion tilted his head. “I can barely make it out over the wind. You must have better hearing than I. That’s just the sound the crystals make. It sounds like a high-pitched scream. I’ve heard that it’s impossible to visit the Crying Mountains proper  without being driven out by the noise.”

“It makes you crazy?”

“I think it’s just much louder by the source.”

Oh, that made sense. It would be kind of hard to sleep while what sounded like thousands of wind chimes were clanging away.

“I’m glad I caught you alone,” Bastion said.

“I have Orange with me,” I said.

“Mostly alone, then. I... this is difficult.”

I turned, one leg slipping over the rail so that I was straddling it. “What is it?” I asked. He seemed a little conflicted, which was strange for Bastion.

“I’ve determined, after much observation and research, that you aren’t a bad person.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Nor are your friends. Awen is a little sheltered, but she’s a kind young woman. Amaryllis has a bit of attitude, but she tends to want to do the right thing. They’re both, in their own way, noble. And I do mean that in the sense that they’re good people.”

“Thanks,” I said, a little less confused. “You’re pretty good yourself.”

Bastion shifted, his posture drooping a little. I’d never noticed just how straight he made himself. He was about three feet shorter than me--if I counted our heights from the tip of my ears--but when he slumped he became much smaller.

“Broccoli, I know you’re a good person, but some of the things you’ve done... You’ve all but admitted that you have broken cores before.”

“And that’s bad,” I said.

“It’s... it’s not good. You have extenuating circumstances. A quest from the World itself. There can’t be a better reason to do what you have, but I still suspect that there are some people in Sylphfree who would react negatively to the news, regardless.”

“Even if we tell them about the quest?” I asked.

“Even then. Worse, some might think that by removing you, the World might give that same quest to others in order to accomplish its goals.”

I settled back. “Oh.”

“As much as it might hurt my career, I won’t be telling anyone. I would like to think that I’m an honourable sylph first and foremost, but I think we need to be ready to deal with some difficult questions.”

“Like make up a story? I could lie to people, tell them that it’s all some big conspiracy.”

“Maybe we can all pretend that you’re mute so that you let others do the convincing?” he tried.

I huffed. “I’m not that bad.”

“I should have approached Amaryllis first,” he muttered.

What was with people today?

***

Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-Eight

It took a long time for the scale of the Grey Wall to make sense. At first it was just a vague line over the horizon; grey, of course, but the dark grey of something hidden in shadows.

Then we continued to move, flying forwards through the early morning on a straight path towards the wall. It felt like it was taking forever to reach it; even as mid-morning passed, the wall was still just a huge thing in the distance.

It wasn’t until we were so close that the shadow of the wall was below us that I really started to take in the scale of it.

We were a kilometre off the ground, and the wall was blocking our view of the horizon.

Its sides looked like smooth stone, with the top built as tiered segments, each covered in battlements that looked like they were wide enough to fit a house between them.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Clive asked.

I nodded and leaned against the rails of the quarterdeck to better make out the little details of the wall. Not that there were many. It looked like whoever built it made sure that it was as flat and plain as it could be on the outside. “It’s so big!”

“Took near-on a century to build,” Clive said. “And by the time it was done, airships were becoming common enough that it’s hardly worth much at all.”

That was true. As a defensive thing, it was pretty useless if people could just fly around it. For that matter, there was ocean to the north and south of the walls, two different oceans. I could imagine someone just sailing around the wall.

“It’s really impressive though,” I said.

“Aye, there is that. I suppose most folk would think twice about wanting to pick a fight with someone who can build something like that. I certainly wouldn’t want to be aboard a ship that made itself an enemy of the C ry.”

“Why not?” I asked. Not that I planned to be anyone’s enemy, of course.

“They can bend light, and use strange and powerful magics that can make the very air burn, no matter how far from them it is,” Clive said. “Not something that you want to face when you’re aboard an airship.”

I nodded along. That was   scary.

The Beaver  continued along, bobbing and bouncing as we met a bit of turbulence near the edge of the wall. Clive spun the wheel and soon we were skimming along the edge of the wall, using it as cover from all the wind.

When we were within a hundred or so metres of it, I moved to the side and shielded my eyes from the sun to better take it in. It wasn’t quite as smooth from up close. There were little holes, and... windows?

I stared at a little balcony as we flew past it. Just a little thing, with some flowers in planters and a stone door behind it. People lived in the wall? That was so cool!

“Captain, I think we’ll be needing all hands on deck soon,” Clive said.

“Got it!” I hopped down to the main deck, then stuck my head into the door leading into the cabins. “Everyone! All hands on deck!” I shouted.

There were some grumbles, but soon enough my friends came up and we started preparing the ship for some more complex maneuvers. “We’ll need to deploy all sails, then retract them in a hurry. Gordon, get your flags ready.”

A section of the wall ahead of us was jutting out. Long metal beams stuck out and held up an entire village of wooden homes with tin roofs. Above and below the village were docks for airships, though only about one in five had any ships in them.

A tower stuck out of the side of the wall, and from it came a flash of light, then a bunch more. It was like morse, but a lot quieter and also brighter .

“Gordon, do you know what they’re signalling?” Clive asked.

I squinted at the light. “They’re saying... They want to know if we’re looking for permission to dock.”

Clive looked at me. “You know light  code?”

“I guess so?”

He nodded, seemingly impressed. “Can you flash them back?”

“Don’t encourage her!” Amaryllis shouted from  mid-deck.

I stuck my tongue out at her and moved to the Beaver’s  side. I didn’t have a mirror or anything fancy like that, but I did have fire magic! Cleaning magic didn’t glow nearly as bright, so I pinched the tip of my tongue between my teeth and created a burst of Fire mana that I quickly shut off.

It was really wasteful, mana-wise, and it wasn’t as fast as the flashes from the tower. I imagined the people reading my message felt as if I was talking really slowly. “Hello! We are th e Beaver Cleaver , we want to stop for fuel,” I muttered as I sent a reply one word at a time.

A return message came back a moment later.

“What are they saying?” Clive asked.

“Start,” I translated. “Move to dock twelve. Upper level. Wait for inspection. Stop.”

Clive nodded. “Aye, upper deck, twelfth dock it is. That’s a handy skill to have, captain.”

“Thanks!” I replied. “I kinda cheated though.” It’s not like I had studied to learn it; it was all my weird Riftwalker magic doing the heavy lifting for me. It was hardly fair to someone that studied and learned things the hard way.

The Beaver  nosed up a little bit as we gained altitude. It rose over the top of the wall, where we had to fight with the wind a little to keep steady.

It was a nice day though, with some puffy clouds above, but not too much wind. A decent, if chilly, day for flying.

The little town growing out of the wall grew clearer as we approached, and I could make out some numbers next to the docks built above the town. The little forms of workers around dock number twelve suggested that they’d already been informed of our arrival.

I felt a bit useless as Clive took over and called out some quick orders while handling the engine and the helm all on his own. He was a really impressive pilot, and we were slowing down to a gentle coast on our approach to the docks.

Seeing that we were in safe hands, I leaned over and took in the top of the wall. There were some large wooden poles sticking out of it every hundred meters or so. Trebuchets? I didn’t know if those would be dangerous to an airship, but I imagined they’d be bad news to any army walking up to the wall.

Workers jumped off the dock, and I felt my heart skip a beat until they started to fly towards us. A mix of harpies and sylphs, all of them with long ropes trailing behind them.

They landed on deck, and one of them, a short sylph woman in overalls, ran up to the quarterdeck. “Who’s the captain?” she asked.

“Hi! I am,” I said.

“Good! Permission to come aboard?”

It was a bit silly, since they were aboard already, but I appreciated the politeness all the same. “Sure!”

“We’ll be mooring you to the dock’s bitts,” she said a moment before waving to her companions. They undid the ropes around their waists even as Clive set the Beaver’s  engine to full reverse, slowing us down to a bobbing stop.

Soon enough, we were linked up to the docks and being pulled in by a set of huge winches. Big pads were brought up, and the Beaver  slid into its moorings with barely a scrape.

“Tie her up!” the sylph said.

“Actually, the Beaver’s  a he,” I said.

She blinked, then shrugged. “Okay. Well in either case, welcome to Wallwatch.”

“Thank you!”

The sylph saluted, a quick and lazy thing. “Don’t forget to watch your step!” she said before flying off. Soon, the others on-deck leapt off, more ropes trailing after them as they moored the Beaver  more securely.

I jumped down to the main deck and found that our usual away-crew was already gathering together: Amaryllis and Awen and Bastion. The Scallywags were looking a bit nervous too, and I saw them gathering on the Beaver’s  other deck to talk in quick whispers that I couldn’t catch, not even with my big ears.

Were they thinking of leaving? We never really had a solid agreement with them. They were aboard for however long they wanted. Amaryllis was sure to pay them fairly, and I figured the experience would help a bunch too, if they were looking for more work later, but they could take off and find their own adventure whenever they wanted.

“We’re not here to sightsee,” Amaryllis said, snapping me out of my temporary distraction. “We need fuel, some foodstuffs to replace our perishables, and that’s it.”

“If that’s the case, then why are all of us getting ready to go?” I asked. Amaryllis was dressed for adventure, and even Awen had her big heavy coat on.

Amaryllis huffed. It was an interesting new huff, I think it meant ‘because I know that what I’m saying and what I’ll do aren’t the same, but I need to put on a facade anyway.’ It was definitely one of the more interesting huffs I’d heard from her. “Because with our luck we’ll run into trouble.”

“Then we just need to make trouble our friend,” I said.

“Idiot,” she said. “Come on, I’m sure you’ll insist that we walk around and take in the sights.”

Awen stepped up next to me as we started to head off the Beaver  after telling Clive that we’d be back eventually. “Do you think Amaryllis is projecting?” she asked.

“Projecting?” I repeated.

“I can hear you.”

Awen nodded. “She’s blaming you for something that you might do, but it’s like... she’s basically letting you do that thing already. I think she just wants an excuse.”

“What do you take me for?”

I pinched my chin. “You know, you might be right. That sounds real clever and cunning, and Amaryllis can be that way sometimes.”

Awen paused by the edge of the ship, screwed up her nose, then jumped over the gap between the Beaver  and the pier. She landed with a little stumble, but I helped her stay even. “I think my mom used to do that kind of thing. She used to be very good at projecting.”

Amaryllis huffed most mightily and scowled at us. “Don’t compare me to your mother. And I’m not projecting!”

“So you don't secretly want to go on an adventure?” I asked.

“No!”

I grinned. “No, you don’t, or no, you’re not being secretive about it?” I asked sweetly.

Awen giggled by my side, and I noticed Bastion paying very close attention to the sky.

Someone coughed, and we all froze a bit then stared at a man in a suit that didn’t quite fit. He had a little pin to his lapel that read ‘port authority.’ “Hello. I hate to interrupt, but I have the bill for the docking procedure and the pier for the remainder of the day.”

Amaryllis stepped up and took the papers the man extended, then she made a big production about how everything was far too expensive before they started bargaining in earnest. I don’t think Amaryllis actually knew how much a berth cost—she was just going to argue for a better price because that’s how she worked.

I let her haggle while moving to the edge of the pier. There was an entire town here, maybe even a city if there were more homes within the walls. So many people from so many races, and soon we’d get to explore, even if it was just a little bit.

I was looking forward to it!

***

Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-Nine

“I wouldn’t trust that,” Amaryllis cautioned.

I looked at the rail I was leaning on, and how rickety it seemed, and decided that maybe Amaryllis was right. I’d been enjoying looking down, my head poking over the edge so that I could take in as much of Wallwatch as I could.

The ground was so far below!

We’d been higher aboard the Beaver ,  of course, but that was different somehow. The Beaver  was flying. Right then, we were just at the top of a very large building. It was a whole lot more intimidating.

“The view’s nice,” I said.

“I’m sure,” Amaryllis said. “I’m all done. We should be fine as long as we leave before sunset.”

We were waiting next to a small tower at the end of the docks. It was a strange little building, made of tin and designed to look a bit like a lighthouse. A really misplaced lighthouse.

I clapped my hands. “Alright! Where do we adventure to next?” I asked.

“Ah, I think we should get fuel,” Awen said. “It’s the most important thing right now. And after that, if we have time, I would like to visit an armourer.”

“An armourer?” I asked.

Awen looked down a little, fingers twinning together. “Yes? I think I could use some armour, maybe?”

“Armour would be a good investment,” Amaryllis said. “We don’t need you getting hurt, and with your skills as a mechanic, I’m certain you’d be able to maintain it well enough. You could afford to get something more complex than unmoving  plate.”

“Let’s go shopping!” I declared.

“After we get fuel,” Amaryllis said.

I rolled my eyes, and then grinned as her feathers started to poof in indignation. “I’m not dumb,” I said. ‘ I know we need fuel first.”

“I question that every moment I spend with you,” she said. “And don’t roll your eyes at me! It’s ill-mannered.”

Laughing, I bounced ahead of my friends, half-turning once I was a few paces ahead. “Come on, I don’t know where to buy fuel from!”

There wasn’t exactly a fuel store, or a gas station for that matter. Amaryllis asked around, and we were directed to a building one level down. That meant taking a circular staircase down from the docks and to a level of the city filled with lots of workshops and more industrial businesses. There weren’t any shops like I was familiar with here. Just local crafters selling things from their workplaces.

The fuel depot wasn’t too far off, a little office next to a hole where big tanks were suspended. Hoses stuck out of them, one leading into a cart with a much smaller tank on the back.

I followed Amaryllis in, and found it to be a cramped little place, just a front desk with a mana-powered fan squeaking away on it. It smelled like peppers and oil, and the man behind the counter wore a stained jerkin.

Amaryllis led the negotiations, because she could be mean in a way that I just couldn’t manage. I’d probably just accept the first offer made and be happy with that.

It took a few minutes, but in the end Amaryllis and the man shook, albeit reluctantly, and we were told that as soon as the last delivery of fuel was done, we’d be next.

“So,” I said as we stepped back out. It was strange to be outside during midday, and yet not be out in the sun. The layer above wasn’t fully covered, so it left big spots of sunlight along the walkways and streets, but even bigger shadow-y spots lingered too. “We have a couple of hours, then?”

“We do,” Amaryllis said.

Bastion shifted his shoulders, obviously waiting for us to pick out something to do, since he didn’t seem to mind any. “In that case, we should find Awen some armour! And you too, Amaryllis.”

“Me?” the harpy asked.

“Yup. You got hurt last time too.”

“That was a slight miscalculation.”

“The next slight miscalculation could end up with you hurt again,” I said. “I don’t want to see my friends hurt at all.”

She squirmed a bit. “Armour is heavy.”

“You’re a big, strong birdgirl,” I said. “And with armour, you’ll be a big, strong, tough  birdgirl.”

“Idiot.”

We had to ask for directions to an armourer. As it turned out, there was only one in all of Wallwatch. The city wasn’t all that big, more of a multi-story town than anything. It had all sorts of people from all sorts of species, but only a modest population.

It made sense. Wallwatch was about as out-of-the-way as a place could be. I imagine that it was a cool place for people that wanted to be left alone.

The armourer’s shop was on the lowest level, where instead of roads there were bridges all over, connecting homes and little plazas together. It was a decently large shop, with a big long chimney sticking out at an angle to spew smoke from the side of Wallwatch.

“Hello!” I said as I opened the front door.

I was greeted by the ringing clangs  and bangs of metal on metal. My bun ears flipped back, protecting them from the noise a little.

Awen stepped up and started to give the place a tour. There was armour on racks, and more piled up on shelves along the walls. Not that many though, the entire storefront was small and confined, and with all four of us it was even tighter. We couldn’t even keep each other at more than arm’s length without bumping into the walls.

The hammering paused, and someone poked their head in. A grenoil! I hadn’t seen any grenoil in a long while. “Ah! I ‘ave clients!” he cheered. He had that distinct Deepmarsh accent, though it wasn’t as strong as some of the other grenoil I’d met. Probably he spent a lot of time away from home. “Welcome to Wilbur’s, ze best place for armour and trinkets in Wallwatch!”

“H-hello,” Awen said with a quick courtesy that used her jacket’s hem in place of a skirt. “We’re looking for, ah, a few things.”

“Oh of course, of course,” he said as he moved to be behind his counter. It was pretty low, likely on account of grenoils not being all that tall to begin with. “I see some interesting work here. The sylph has some nice equipment there. Is that a Lukas piece?”

Bastion looked down at his armour, then back up. “You’re familiar with the royal armourer?”

“Just his work, and just wiz my eyes. The bun miss here has... zat’s from Deepmarsh?” he asked, standing a bit taller.

“It is!” I said. “Port Royal, a place called, uh.” I turned to Amaryllis and she answered with a shrug.

“I know where the shop is, not what it’s called,” she said.

“It’s good quality,” Wilbur said. “Does it need any adjusting?”

I shook my head, then gestured to Awen and Amaryllis. “My friends keep getting stabbed, so we need armour.”

Amaryllis glared. “I’m not even going to waste energy on being indignant. You’re too stupid to be worth the effort.”

Wilbur nodded while wisely pretending he didn’t hear that. “Who do we start wiz? I can make somezing custom if you give me a day or two.”

“Ah, we don’t have that much time,” Awen said. “I... I’m the one that wants something, mostly.”

Wilbur stepped around and started to walk around Awen. “I have a few things that’ll fit with just some quick changes. Not zat big are you? Is zat what you usually wear when out getting stabbed?” He gestured to how Awen was dressed.

She had a nice blouse on, with pants tucked into her boots, and of course her big blue coat over it all. “This is what I usually wear, yes.”

“Hmm. Not much. I don’t know if stuffing you in full plate would be a good idea. A... mechanic? Well, at least you’ll be able to maintain it. How about scale?”

“Scale?” Awen asked.

“Over a thin gambeson to prevent chafing,” Wilbur said. He moved back and pulled something from a shelf and held it up. It was a piece of armour, like a long shift, but made entirely of long metal scales.

“That looks a bit... much?” Awen tried.

Wilbur tossed it back. “Course! In zat case, maybe somezing that fits a little more snug? I’ve got chain mail that ought to fit you. Long sleeved too, with a proper gambeson under it so you should be covered fairly well.”

The armourer moved to the other side of the room and pulled out a suit of mail with a whole lot of clinking. Awen moved over and poked at it, then nodded. “I think that would be nice.”

“Wonderful! I’ll need your measurements to fit zis properly.” He tossed the mail onto his counter, then went to the back and shuffled through a rack with what looked like thickly padded clothes. “Here! Zis is new, it should adjust to you,” he said as he returned with what looked like a long-sleeved shirt that was padded here and there. Nothing as poofy as my first gambeson, but I imagined that the chain would make up for it.

“Ah, thank you,” Awen said.

“Well, put it on.”

Awen’s face changed colours a few times. “Do you have a washroom?” she asked.

Wilbur nodded, then directed her to somewhere where she could change. While she was gone, he turned his attention to Amaryllis. “You needed armour too?”

“My friends are insisting,” she said.

Wilbur tapped his chin while looking her up and down. “The coat’s leather?”

“It is.”

“Any room inside it?”

She pinched the front of her jacket. “Some? I’m hardly overweight.”

“Well zen, I have some steel inserts sitting around. Meant zem for somezing else, but I’m sure I could fit zem into zat coat of yours. It would armour you up a little. Not too heavy eizer. I’d still suggest a hauberk. Maybe a thin one to wear under ze coat as well?

It didn’t take much work at all to find some armour for Amaryllis. She didn’t want her arms covered at all, because that would limit the use of her wings, so Wilbur found a mail shirt similar to the one he’d found for Awen that had a decorative edge to it. By the time Amaryllis surrendered her jacket for the grenoil to modify, Awen returned with her coat folded over an arm and her new gamberson on.

It was a deep blue, not too far from her coat, with a tall neck and just a bit of embroidery on it to pretty it up.

“Nice!” I said.

“It fits well,” Awens said.

“Good,” Amaryllis replied. “Speaking of... do you do enchantments?”

“Afraid not,” Wilbur said. “I can prepare things for it, but you’ll need to find someone who knows that sort of magic better than I do.”

Wilbur told us that the modifications would take a couple of hours, so that left us standing around with nothing much to do. “Should we get lunch?” I asked.

That got everyone moving again. We told Wilbur we’d be back soon enough, and as a group, we left and started making our way up a floor, eyes peeled for somewhere to eat at.

I was expecting an inn, or a tavern, but instead we found a sort of mom-and-pop restaurant run by a couple of harpies. They specialized in breakfast food, though without any eggs on their menu.

But they did have fresh cinnamon buns!

We ate, drank (mostly fruit juice, Awen took one look at the alcohol stuff and went pale) and had a good time. It wasn’t some grand adventure, but it was fun with the people I loved the most, and sometimes that was more than enough.

***

Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty

“Spin, spin!” I said.

Awen giggled and twirled around, her coat flaring out around her until she stopped and it whipped around, wrapping about her figure. “It’s comfortable,” she said. “A bit heavy, but not too bad.”

Wilbur nodded, looking like the frog that caught the fly.

Amaryllis bounced up and down a few times, getting used to the new weight of her jacket. “This isn’t bad work,” she said. “A few enchantments for weight and durability, and this will be decent armour.”

Neither of my friends were as armoured as I’d like. They didn’t have helmets, for one, and their limbs were mostly unarmoured, but I couldn’t force everyone into full-plate just because I was a little worried, certainly not when my own armour didn’t cover everything. I wouldn’t be a hypocrite.

Besides, full-plate made hugging awkward. It made the hugs less warm and less cuddly and a whole lot louder.

“It’ll be a pain to change back into this all the time,” Amaryllis said.

“Well, we usually know more or less when we’re going on an adventure,” I said. “I wear my armour all the time because... uh, I think it’s cool and comfy, but you could just wear yours when you think there’s going to be trouble.”

Amaryllis nodded. It wasn’t that big a compromise to make.

Wilbur thanked us for our patronage, and seemed more than happy when Amaryllis gave him a few golden coins for his work.

“The armour is a good idea,” Bastion said as we stepped out of the armourer’s shop. It was a bit chilly outside.  “In nearly every conceivable scenario, it’s best not to be hit at all, but that can require some skill and luck that isn’t always available. In those cases where you will be hit, having even a little armour is better than not.”

I nodded along. That made sense. “Are we going back to the Beaver  right away?” I asked.

“Might as well,” Amaryllis said. “We don’t have much to do here, and the refueling shouldn’t take all that long. They should be on their way now, and I suppose at least one of us ought to be there.”

“I think Clive and the Scallywags can take care of it,” I said.

“Ah, I’d like to be there,” Awen said. “Some of the fuel bunkers are tricky to open, and I don’t want them spilling things on the workshop floor. The fuel stinks.”

“Really?” I asked. I didn’t spend too much time next to the Beaver’s  engine, or in the little workshop Awen used. “If there is a spill, let me know. I can probably clean it up for you.”

Awen nodded easily at that. “It would still be a waste.”

That was a fair point. We were paying for all the fuel, so we should be using it all.

We took a different route back to the top, not to sightsee so much as because I kinda forgot which catwalk we’d used the last time. It did mean that we got to see more of the interior of Wallwatch.

The edges of the hanging town all overlooked the forest and fields below, with a lot of shade cast by the wall itself making it cooler. The inner-sections of the city were a lot darker, with magic lamps casting flickering light across streets made of corrugated iron and boxy little homes tucked in tight against each other.

It was still lively, though. Kids ran across the street, chasing after balls with strings tied to them in a sort of weird game. There were humans and harpy children, and a few sylphs too. We even crossed an adorable cervid foal stumbling after the others on four gangly legs.

We found a stairwell leading all the way to the top of the city, a point above even the docks where a few airships were sitting next to their piers. The Beaver Cleaver  wasn’t difficult to make out from the others. It was, in my humble opinion, the most colourful and friendliest ship in the whole lot.

We didn’t do drab greys and browns like all of the other ships.

“Our ship looks like it’s piloted by a jester,” Amaryllis mumbled.

I laughed as I skipped ahead.  

We arrived at the Beaver  just before the people for the refueling did. They were mostly young men whose job seemed to be dragging around a big, heavy looking tank set onto a cart with a hand-pump on the side and a long length of hose.

Awen jumped to help them, pointing to the places on the deck that needed to be opened up, and directing the workers when it came time to finally pour the fuel into the Beaver’s  reservoirs. It was, apparently, a fairly dangerous task. They had a mage on their team whose entire job was to make sure there were no sparks or fires around the gas, kind of like a reverse Amaryllis.

It was neat at first, but I soon lost interest as they took turns pumping one squirtful of fuel after another into the tank.

That’s probably why I was the first to see the crystalline figure hovering by the pier leading to the Beaver.

 One of the cry? They were a big, bright blue crystal, a little shorter than I was, but taller on account of how they floated a few centimetres off the ground. No face that I could see. Or organs, for that matter. Their body was like a many-faceted sapphire on one side, and smooth on the others. I could see right through them.

Little zipping flashes of light snapped through their body, like lightning in a bottle. Magic? There had to be something giving them life.

“Hello!” I said. I was pretty sure I was talking in the local language too, so they had to understand that. Neat!

The hovering crystal slowed to a stop, and I felt a sort of shiver run across me. Had I just been scanned?

They rang, like a windchime being tapped ever so lightly. “Greetings,” they said.

“I love your voice,” I said. “It’s very pretty.”

The being paused, then bobbed up and down. “Thank you, long-eared one.”

I giggled. That was a new nickname. “No problem! I’m Broccoli. Broccoli Bunch!”

“Our name is difficult for the soft to speak,” they said with three quick rings.

I climbed over the Beaver’s  rail and sat down atop it so that there wasn’t anything between us except for a long drop. “What is it? I might not have the vocal chords to say it, but I can try my best.”

“We are the Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole.”

That was a mouthful. Each little bit of the name came with a humming tone, like little bells being tapped in some sort of sequence that flowed into the next. Like someone dropping a box of marbles onto a xylophone.

“That’s a very pretty name,” I said.

“We thank you. Your name is also... i nteresting, vegetable  pile.”

I snorted. Another new nickname. I think I liked ‘long-eared one better. “What does your name mean? I’ve never really spoken to any of you before.”

“It is rare to find one that understands. We are a shard of Waterwatches, a cry that earned a name. We were split from their compassion, the third to have been split, and we are whole.”

“Oh,” I said. I didn’t get it, not entirely, but I could kinda figure it out. “Cry don’t have babies?”

“We do not. When we grow grand enough to have earned a name, we may take a small portion of ourselves and give it life.”

That was so cool! “Neat!”

The cry hovered there for a moment, and I had the impression it was looking at me, then at the ship behind me. “Our name is long to some of the soft ones. We have grown accustomed to earning honorary, though temporary, names.”

I nodded. That made sense. “I’ll try to keep your name in mind then, Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole.” I coughed to clear my throat. That had come out as a bunch of really high notes that really tickled. “Did I pronounce that right?”

The cry shifted from side to side. “It was a valiant attempt.”

I laughed. “That’s a no!” I shrugged. “I can’t pitch my voice that high, sorry. So, what are you doing at the docks?”

“We are seeking assistance in exchange for services rendered or precious materials given.”

“You’re trying to hire someone?” I asked.

The cry bobbed up and down again. Was that a natural gesture, or were they copying a human’s--or some other headed person’s--nod? “What kind of help are you looking for?”

“We seek passage to the Lonely Island.”

The Lonely Island. That rang a bell. “That’s to the north, right? Between here and Sylphfree?”

The cry did its nod again. “We... have one that must be delivered to the island. It is a sensitive manner, but one we would pay dearly to see happen.”

I considered it. I was pretty sure we were going to be passing that way anyway. “I could ask my friends. I don’t know what transporting a cry is like, but I do think it would be fun to have one aboard. We could become friends!”

Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole.

Dream: To grow grand and earn a name.

Desired Quality: Someone who would mirror their compassion, and help them protect the unprotected.

“We can fly already,” they said. “But the one we wish to protect cannot. We need assistance. And this matter is more delicate than it seems.”

“More delicate how?” I asked.

The crystalline being didn’t move for a moment, I had the impression they were hesitating, and when they replied, it was with softing tinkles and chimes. “We are not the kindest of people. Calm, yes, and we don’t seek what others have, but we can be as cruel as any soft one. I think this matter is one in which that cruelty shows. We have one that would be broken, their shards buried and cracked. We, personally, do not wish for this to happen. They don’t deserve it. Some cry  would disagree.”

They were protecting someone, someone that needed to be brought to the Lonely island to be safe? It was a little strange, and I didn’t have the full picture, which didn’t help any. “Well, the Beaver  here will be leaving in a few minutes, maybe in an hour or two at most. And we are heading that way. We’d need to talk with Amaryllis and some of the others about taking on a passenger or two, but I don’t think they’d mind all that much.”

“We would be grateful,” they said while tipping our way in what I suspect was an imitation of a bow.

I spun around on the railing and jumped to my feet. “Give me two seconds. I need to talk to my friends.”

The cry agreed, and hovered there while I bounced over to Amaryllis. She was looking over a ledger of sorts, making little marks with the nib of a feather that I suspected was one of her own. “Having fun?” she asked without looking up.

“Yeah! Never met a cry before, really. They’re nice, I think.”

“They? Do they have genders?”

“I have no idea,” I admitted. “But maybe we’ll have time to find out.”

She looked up, eyes narrowing. “Broccoli.”

“I didn’t say anything yet!” I defended myself.

“I’m no idiot. What did you do?”

“Nothing yet. Shard of Compassion is looking for transportation.”

“We’re not a passenger ship,” Amaryllis said.

I nodded. “I know. But they want to go to the Lonely Island.”

“There’s nothing there,” she said.

“So there’s no risk in dropping them off.”

She huffed. “Did they want transportation back?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Just there. They can fly, apparently. They want to carry something... or someone, to the Lonely island. I think it’s a smaller cry? But I’m not sure.”

“Hmm,” Amaryllis said. “I know cry don’t eat, and they don’t sleep, so there’s no cost there.” She sighed. “Let me talk to them. We’ll see.”

I, of course, hugged the stuffing out of her. “Awesome! This is going to be so cool!”

***

Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-One

“So, what’s this about needing transportation?” Amaryllis asked. The words were a bit rude, but her tone was surprisingly business-like.

Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole--and gosh, we really did need a nickname for them--bobbed up and down. “We seek passage to the Lonely Island, for ourselves and one other.”

“I think we can do that,” I said. I couldn’t help the eager grin. This wasn’t a full-blown adventure, but it wasn’t too far from it!

“Assuming you can pay, of course,” Amaryllis said.

I pouted. Money stuff was boring, but I couldn’t fault Amaryllis. We had fuel to buy, a pantry to keep stocked, wages to pay and neat things to pick up along the way. Awen was doing most of our maintenance, but maybe we’d need specialized help at some point, which would also cost money.

The cry shifted, and for the first time I noticed a little leather pouch tucked against its side. The flap on it opened all on its own, and a small device came floating out of it. It looked like a mini-typewriter that had been driven over by a semi-trailer. It was all squished and covered in little rods and levers, there was even a little crystal poking out of it.

The cry held it up before them and Amaryllis looked at the device. “You know, I can’t understand them, right?”

“Uh, they’re not saying anything,” I said. “What is that?”

“It is a communication device, to call and receive items stored elsewhere.”

Like Amaryllis’ banking ring!

The device started to click and clack as the buttons and levers upon it were pressed in and turned in quick succession. I felt the barest flicker of something before a coin appeared, then another and another. Soon, some two dozen golden coins were floating around the device before, with a snap, then all stacked together into two golden rods .

“We hope this is sufficient remuneration for the journey. We are prepared to give the same amount once again upon our arrival.”

I translated that for Amaryllis, and she nodded. “For a trip that’ll only take two days, that’s a very good payment, which leaves me very suspicious. What sort of trouble are you bringing with you?”

“Amaryllis, just because they’re generous doesn’t mean that they have any sort of ulterior motives,” I said.

“We must admit to some ulterior motives,” the cry said.

My mouth shut with a clack of teeth. Oh.

“What is it?” I asked.

“The one we wish to bring with us is young, a shard not yet made whole, and one that will never reach oneness. They are a shard of growth.”

I translated that as best I could. “Do you know what that means?” I asked.

Amaryllis shook her head. “It doesn’t mean anything to me,” she said.

“Forgive us, we forget that not all know as much about us as we do. It is sufficient to know that this young shard represents what some would consider a danger in our society. They should have been broken, according to our laws, but we and some others do not see things that way. The simplest, and best, solution would be to merely move them to a new home. The Lonely Island is a place where we have brought other similar shards.”

I didn’t understand entirely. The other cry they wanted to get was somehow dangerous, and had to be brought elsewhere for... their own protection? Or maybe it was to protect the rest of the cry? “Are they going to be trouble  on the trip over ?” I asked.

The cry shifted from side to side. “They are young, and perhaps inquisitive, but troublesome they are not.”

I looked to Amaryllis, then back to Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole. “Okay,” I said. “Are you going to bring them over? You can pay us after you’ve returned.”

The cry started to bob, then aborted the gesture. “We... would appreciate some assistance. The little shard cannot yet fly of their own accord, and we are trying to avoid the notice of other cry within this city.”

“You’re not exactly hard to notice,” Amaryllis said once I translated.

“Forgive us, we may have miscommunicated. We, ourselves, are under no danger. It would be wrong, and distasteful, for another cry to attack a whole member of our society. It would simply not occur. We are under no danger. The shard is offered no such protections.”

“I’ll go with you then,” I said.

“Alone?” Amaryllis asked.

I shrugged. “I guess?”

She shook her head. “You idiot, you’re inviting trouble. I’ll get Bastion. Awen is still fixing things in the engine room and I’m too busy to be running around and carrying things. That’s grunt work.”

“But I’m not too busy for that?” I asked.

“No,” she said before walking off and heading towards Bastion, who was practicing at the rear of the ship.

Soon enough, the sylph was joining us on the pier while Amaryllis took our gold and went down to stash it.

“So,” Bastion said as he adjusted his belt. He didn’t have his full suit of armour on, just the padded jerkin he wore underneath and his big metal-shod boots with his pants tucked in. “I hear that I’m needed?”

“Your assistance would be welcome, soft one,” our new cry buddy said.

I translated again, and Bastion nodded. “It would be my pleasure,” he said before gesturing ahead. “Please, lead the way.”

We started to follow the cry as they floated ahead of us. It seemed like the best speed they could manage wasn’t much faster than a brisk walk, which was fine; it gave me more time to think of a cool nickname.

Their name as an acronym was... SWCTSOW. SaWaCTaSOW? No, that was too strange, and besides, who was I to decide on someone’s vowels. Maybe just Compassion then? Or Crystal. That was a real name. Well, so was their name, of course. Blue? On account of their colour?

Coming up with a good nickname was hard.

“So, Miss Bunch,” Bastion said.

“You know, you could just call me Broccoli,” I said. “Or Broc. We’re friends, no need to be all formal and such.”

“Of course. It’s a difficult habit to break,” he said.

I bumped his shoulder with mine. It was a little strange; Bastion was an adult, and a boy, but he was still a bunch shorter than me. “That’s okay. It’s never wrong to be polite. But not having to be as polite with friends is one of the fun things about having friends,” I said.

“I suppose,” Bastion said. “By the way, I’m impressed that you speak cry . I know that Syphfree has had diplomats who could understand it before, but they required a very specific combination of skills to do so. More to be able to communicate back.”

“Oh,” I said. “It’s a riftwalker thing, I think.”

Bastion sighed. “Yes, of course it is.”

“Wait, did I never tell you?” I... couldn’t remember telling him. I was an awful friend.

“No, you didn’t. But I’m not entirely ignorant. If anything it gives credence to your having received a quest from the World.”

“Oh, cool,” I said.

“Do try to avoid spreading that around; it’s the sort of thing that’s best kept to oneself.”

I nodded. I could totally keep a secret.

Our nickname-less cry friend led us out of the docks and down a wide stairwell and onto what looked like it might be one of the city’s main roads. It was wider than the others we’d been on, and had a glass ceiling over parts of it, allowing natural light to brighten the place up.

We kept walking--and in their case floating-- for a while until we turned down a second staircase and found ourselves on a much narrower road.

“We reserved a room at this inn,” they said as they floated into the courtyard of a small inn. A sign was bolted to one wall, a bit of rust leaking off of it staining the paint below. ‘The Walled Inn. Cheap Beds, Cheaper Meals.’

“A quality establishment,” Bastion deadpanned.

“We do not require food for sustenance, nor do we have much need for space,” the cry explained.

I translated absently while looking around. It did look a little tacky and cheap. “Which room is yours?”

The cry, instead of answering, hovered over to one door and pulled their little gadget out of their pouch again. Soon they summoned a key which unlocked the door. “We will need to cover the shard with cloth, to keep them hidden,” they said as they entered. “It is Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole. We have found some soft ones willing to carry us to our final destination.”

I stepped in after them while Bastion took up a position next to the door.

The interior of the room was a bit cramped. There was a bed tucked in the corner, with a night stand next to it. No windows on the walls, but one on the ceiling, strangely enough. It did illuminate the room, but I wasn’t sure if that was for the best. It was the dingiest, dirtiest inn room I’d ever seen. I was sure any of the innkeepers I’d befriended would have had a fit at seeing the peeling wallpaper and broken furniture.

The cry took up a good portion of the room’s space, and it wasn’t until they shifted to the side that I saw our second passenger.

They were a cry too, of course, but unlike the bigger, bulkier one I’d met, they were slim and jagged, their body curved around in a sort of half-moon shape. “Little shard, this is the soft one with which we will travel.”

“Hello!” I said.

The littler cry floated a bit closer, then started to tip over to one side, as if they were top heavy. “Hello,” they replied, their voice a high pitched chime. “I am a Shard of MountainTopper’s Growth, Fourth Shard, and not Yet Whole.”

“I’m Broccoli Bunch!” I said. “I guess I’m my mom and dad’s shard? Uh, is that how it works?”

The shard made a tinkling sound, like crystal cups being shaken together. Laughter? “I don’t think it’s how it works for soft ones.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Ah, it’s going to become hard to talk to both of you if you don’t have shorter names. No offence?”

“We understand,” the larger cry said. “Soft one names are difficult for us as well. They are often meaningless. And when they do have meaning, such as your name, vegetable pile, it is often a meaning that puzzles more than enlightens.”

I held back a giggle and nodded. “I get it. So do you have nicknames? I could call you Blue, and this cutie I could call... Moonie? Because you look like a moon!”

The newly named Blue bobbed. “We accept this temporary name with the gravity it was given.”

“Moon-Shaped is an acceptable name,” Moonie said.

“Do cry do hugs?” I asked.

“Broc,” Bastion barked, his voice tense. “I think we have trouble.”

I spun and rushed to the door to look out. It didn’t take much looking to see what Bastion was talking about. A pair of cry, both about as big as Blue, though one was far more jagged and sharp-looking. They were hovering closer to us, a deep bell-toll sound coming from them that didn’t quite mean  anything but still made me think of the hum of a wasp’s wings.

“Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole, we are aware that you are within this building. Surrender the broken,” One of them chimed.

I reached out, grabbed Bastion, and yanked him in before snapping the door shut. “Okay! Time to leave, I think.”

“I will confront them,” Blue said. “No harm will befall me. Escape with the Brok-- with the Moon-Shaped one.”

“Ah, right. Are there other doors around?”

Bastion pointed to the window in the ceiling.

“Well then,” I said. “Let’s make a big escape!”

***

Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-Two

“Can we expect them to be violent?” Bastion asked.

“We suspect they will not stop themselves from acting violently against the little shard. They may even extend that violence to you, though they should refrain from killing you. The Crying Mountains have an amicable relationship with Wallwatch; we would not want to disrupt that over an internal matter.”

I translated that for Bastion even as I ran over to the bed and tugged the sheet off the top. It was a bit raggedy, but not that bad. A big red blanket made of woven cloth. “Moonie, I’m going to cover you in this. Maybe if we’re lucky, they won’t notice that we’re carrying you.”

Moonie bobbed up and down. “That seems amusing.”

I grinned as I tossed the covers up and over the cry, then pulled them snug around them. It didn’t take long to tie it all up in a bow around Moonie’s side.

“Good thinking,” Bastion said. “Mister... Blue, perhaps you should leave as soon as we’ve left. I’ll give you a signal. Try to keep them occupied for at least half a minute, that should be enough for us to get a good lead.”

“We understand,” the larger cry said. They hovered over to the door, while Bastion beat his wings and climbed closer to the ceiling.

“You might want to leave some silver behind, for the window,” Bastion said.

“Huh, why?” I asked.

“Close your eyes,” Bastion ordered.

I ducked my head and squeezed my eyes shut a moment before the window above exploded and sheets of glass rained down onto the floor. A few pieces thumped against my captain’s hat and my ears, but I flicked them away with a twitch.

“Let’s go!” Bastion called. He had his sword half unsheathed. I suspect he’d used the pommel to break the glass.

I nodded, hugged Moonie close, then jumped up and out of the top.

“Mister Blue, go!” Bastion said a moment before he flipped out of the room. The Walled Inn’s roof was all tin with windows cut into it for every room. I saw some flickering candle light from a few of them. They didn’t all get sunlight, not with another set of homes right above the inn.

I glanced up at the huge iron struts keeping the floor above in place. “Which way?” I asked.

Then something hummed behind me and I half-turned to see one of the cry floating up. It glowed, and before I could process, a scarlet laser fired out of it and right at me.

It met a crystalline wall that snapped into existence right in front of me. It was like a huge, spiky snowflake that bounced the laser off and allowed it to cut a slice into the inn room some metres away.

I gasped. That had been close. I could recall using c leaning magic to kinda dissipate a laser before, in that Glass Dungeon, but this laser was faster... somehow, and I wasn’t expecting it at all.

“We are afraid that we cannot allow you to harm the broken shard, nor the soft ones,” came Blue’s crystalline voice.

“Let’s go!” Bastion said.

The sylph took off, heading not in the direction of the docks, but right towards the huge wall.

I eyed a few beams holding up the homes and structure above, then leapt out after him. “Bastion, the Beaver’s  that way!” I said with a nod to the west end of the city.

“We need to lose them first,” he said.

Was it that bad?

I jumped, aiming for the roof of what looked like a shop. I never made it since Bastion rammed me out of the air.

I eeped, then gasped as a laser zipped by so close I felt my tail warming up. I pushed my cleaning aura out, hoping that it would at least dampen the attacks a little the next time they came so close.

We fell down a level, narrowly avoiding a catwalk before crashing onto a busy road, right in front of a bunch of people who gasped and squawked at our landing before them.

I rolled to my feet, ignoring the bit of discomfort from the rough landing. “You okay, Moonie?”

“Yes!”

“Come on!” Bastion said.

I patted down my skirt with one hand, hugged Moonie closer to my side, then followed after Bastion as he cut into the crowd.

It wasn’t really much of a crowd, which was unfortunate because I saw one of the cry  flying closer, with a dozen snowflake disks around its middle that were glowing and sparking. It spotted us running a floor below, and dropped down to be on our level.

“Duck!” I called out before a pair of reddish beams snapped out and burned some holes into the wooden walls of the buildings behind us.

Most of the people on the street never even noticed, but some did, and they started to scream and run away, which got everyone else moving too.

“Up!” Bastion said. He pointed to some carts ahead with little tin roofs over them, they were selling bolts of cloth and some tools and all sorts of knick-knacks.

I jumped after him, running across the top of the carts, then Bastion leapt onto the roof of a nearby shop and I followed after him. The cry swooped down after us, but Bastion dropped down the opposite side of the roof and I followed him before I could get lasered.

There wasn’t much of a road here, just a narrow catwalk, a grated floor and some wooden rails overlooking the next couple of levels down the city.

“Faster,” Bastion said.

I took a few big gulps of air. I was in better shape than I’d ever been before, but this was still a lot of excitement  for me.

Bastion pointed up a level once we were behind a fairly tall building. “That strut, then up there,” he said.

I squinted up, and saw the strut he was talking about. A big metal X that repeated over and over down the length of the city. Above that was another road, with a much nicer rail around it.

Bastion took off and flew straight up, sword coming out of his sheath.

I hopped up onto the rail, bunched my legs under me with a hefty chunk of stamina, then shot up to the strut above.

My shoe gripped onto the edge of the beam and I immediately launched myself up a level.

A glance back revealed Bastion flying in a quick loop around a reddish beam sent his way by the cry. Then he sliced a laser beam apart with a swipe.

I blinked.

That... wasn’t possible, was it?

“Go! I’ll catch up!” Bastion said.

I nodded and took off running.

The big advantage of Wallwatch was that there was always an easy way to know which direction was which. The huge wall was kind of impossible to miss, and it was more or less to the north of the city.

“Are you okay?” I asked Moonie as I ran ahead.

“Yes! This is exciting, if a little dark.”

“Oh right, sorry,” I said. I tugged at the blanket, at least until I uncovered the top of Moonie’s... body. “Uh, where are your eyes?”

“Cry have  no eyes.”

“Okay then,” I said. “Can you see now?”

“Yes.”

That was good enough for me. I could ask a whole bunch of questions once we were safer. I found a stairwell and then raced up to the top until we broke out onto the topmost floor of Wallwatch. “There!” I said as I saw the Beaver  sitting pretty in the docks; the ship’s bright blue balloon was impossible to miss.

I skipped from roof to roof, then leapt down onto the wooden pier and landed with a heavy thump next to some sailors who recoiled in surprise. I called out my apologies as I sprinted for the Beaver.

Amaryllis saw me coming, and looked terribly unamused as I jumped up and landed in the middle of the port deck. “Now what?” she asked.

“We...” I took a moment to gulp in some air. “We need to run, a little. Fast?”

Amaryllis rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “The World hates me,” she said. “Awen!”

Awen’s head popped out of the hole at the back of the other deck. She had grease stains on her nose and looked a bit confused. “Yes?” she called back.

“Get everything ready! We’re heading out! Clive! Get everyone in position; we’re leaving right away. Broccoli, where’s Bastion?”

“Uh,” I said.

Looking up, I noticed a few red flashes in the air, and if I squinted I could make out Bastion weaving and diving in the air while a cry followed him, firing lasers that Bastion kept dancing around.

“Right there,” I said as I pointed.

“Oh, for the love of... put whatever that is away then get to helping. You’re the captain, you should be acting like it!”

“Yes, ma’am!” I said before darting to the back of the ship. “Hey, Moonie, I’m going to put you in my room for a bit. There’s a nice view out the window. Uh, try not to get into too much trouble, alright?”

“Understood,” the cry said as I practically stumbled my way down to the lower deck and squeezed past two of the Scallywags who were moving up.

“Trouble above!” I said. “All hands on deck!”

I stuffed Moonie in my room. It was a little rude not to give the cry the full tour, but there wasn’t any time for all that.

“I’ll be back once things quiet down,” I said.

Moonie bobbed up and down, which served to get that blanket to drop. “Thank you.”

I grinned, then clicked the door shut before racing back out onto the main deck. Everyone was running around, unmooring the Beaver  and prepping him to take off. I saw Steve struggling with one of the ropes and rushed over to help.

The Beaver’s engine roared to life, and I saw Clive pulling on a few levers to keep us steady as we undid the last of the ropes holding us in place.

“We’re free!” Gordon called.

A building nearby exploded, and we all glanced over in time to see Bastion flying out of the fire on a direct path for the Beaver.  He landed on the deck, boots skidding across the wood until he came to a full stop and panted. “We should go,” he said, calmly.

“Clive! Full reverse! Get us some height!” I didn’t know how  high the cry could fly. Hopefully not as high as the wall, but I sorta doubted that.

“Aye, aye!” Clive called a moment before we started to pull out  of our mooring.

“I’m going to go prepare the ballistae!” Awen said before she darted away.

I blinked after her, but decided we had bigger concerns.

Bastion swiped his sword along the length of his sleeve to clean it, then slid it back into its sheath. He looked uninjured, though his pant-legs were a bit singed here and there from what had to be near-misses. “That was some good practice,” he said.

“I hope the rest of us don’t need to practice that much,” I said.

The cry that had been after Bastion appeared by the docks, but we were already backing out pretty quickly, and there was a good hundred or so metres between us. Surely they wouldn’t...

I ducked as a red beam flashed out and cut a black line against the side of the Beaver’s hull. “Oh, shoot!”

Lasers didn’t have a range.

“Amaryllis! Can you do magic to protect us?” I asked.

She eyed the cry, then grinned. “Sure,” she said.

I had a bad feeling in my tummy a moment before she pulled her knife-wand out and pointed it ahead.

I wanted a shield. Instead Amaryllis fired a thick bolt of lightning that snapped out with a boom so loud and strong my ears flipped back and I was pretty sure she gave the Beaver  a bit of a speed boost.

“Amy!”

“It’s proactive protection!” she said.

The dust around the dock cleared, revealing another crystalline snowflake shield. It dropped, and a red beam snapped out and punched a fist-sized hole into our balloon.

“Oh no,” I said. “Steve, Gordon! Get to that. Clive, more speed! Amaryllis, be a bit more proactive!”

Amaryllis cackled.

“But-but not too proactive!” I said.

The Beaver  tipped backwards, rear pointing towards the ground a moment before the engine burped, stopped, then sent the propeller  spinning in the other direction.

Amaryllis leaned off the side and flung magic back at the docks, enough to keep the cry busy shielding itself.

I couldn’t help but laugh as we took off and shot into the sky as fast as our little ship could manage. Not the ideal start to an adventure, but certainly an exciting one!

***

Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-Three

The Beaver Cleaver  leapt over the Grey Wall, all sails out to full and engine roaring to help us defy gravity just a bit faster.

I clung onto my captain’s hat and stood with my legs spread out for maximum balance. The entire ship was tipped, prow up, so that we’d gain as much altitude as we could. We’d made an escape. And in doing so, had left Blue behind. I felt a little bad about that, but I think the cry would have been happy with us getting their charge out of the clutches of those other cry.

They could fly too, so it wasn’t impossible that they’d be able to catch up, or at least meet up with Moonie on the Lonely island.

“Captain, he’s starting to struggle,” Clive said, cutting through my introspection.

“Struggle how?” I returned.

“Not enough thrust to keep it at this sort of angle,” was the quick reply.

I nodded. “Level us off!” I said before I jumped to help. With Steve and Gordon both hanging onto the balloon to patch it up, that left our crew two bodies short for doing things like adjusting the sails.

We tilted a bit to one side as the sails on the opposite side were adjusted first, but soon the Beaver  was returning to an even flight across the skies. It was pretty cloudy at our altitude, with big puffy balls of white cotton floating past us. That was great; it would make it harder for anyone to track us, though the engine did leave a faint black trail in the sky behind us.

Maybe I could spray some Cleaning magic on the exhaust to mask our trail?

“Captain, permission to slow us down? I don’t want to tax the engine,” Clive asked.

“Granted!”

We slowed down, and the wind whipping at anyone on deck slowed down a bit and it became a lot easier to move about. I saw Steve and Gordon climb down the front of the balloon, then rush across the ship to get to the opposite end, where the exit hole still needed patching.

“Hey, Clive?” I asked as I got closer to the harpy. “Are those two holes going to be a problem?”

I couldn’t entirely see the patch the two harpy crewmates had made, but it looked pretty good to my untrained eye. A green square about two handspans wide that clashed a bit with the bright blue of our balloon.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Clive said. “We have some compressed gas in the hold to replace what was lost.”

“The holes are patched!” someone squeaked. I turned and blinked up at Steve who was giving us a wave. “We shouldn’t be losing any more!” he squealed.

I smacked a hand over my mouth. “Do... do we  use helium in that balloon?” I asked.

“Yes,” Clive said. “It’s the safest gas to use for airships. Cheap too, if you know a good alchemist.”

“Oh, cool!” I said.

“Broccoli,” Amaryllis said. “Do you hear that?”

I titled my head to the side, bun ears twitching this way and that to better make out any noise. It didn’t take much to hear what Amaryllis was talking about. A sort of hissing roar, like a gas burner that was lit one room over. It came from somewhere behind us, in the direction of the Grey Wall.

I ran to the Beaver’s  side and leaned over the rails, one hand holding my captain’s hat in place so that it wouldn’t get whipped away by the wind.

My eyes narrowed, searching the clouds for whatever was making that noise. The wall was already quite a ways behind us, though it still loomed huge, hiding the horizon behind its bulk. The lowest of the clouds hovered just below the top of the wall. That’s where I saw the first glimpse of whatever was following us.

It was a plane.

Not like any plane I’d seen back on Earth, not unless Da Vinci sketches counted.

The machine looked like it was made of wood and cloth, with big, bat-like wings swept back around a light frame that had a pair of rockets strapped to it. I could make out the bright blue of a cry strapped into the middle of it.

A plume of thick black smoke poured out of the back, providing the plane with plenty of thrust.

“Uh oh,” I said. “Clive! Full speed ahead! Everyone, get ready to fight! They have a plane!”

The hissing roar grew clearer, and I turned back to see three dark shapes swooping over the wall and through the clouds. They were gaining on us, but we still had a minute or two... I hoped.

“Are those rocket planes?” Amaryllis asked, disbelief colouring her voice. “Are they insane?”

“Maybe it’s safer for them?” I asked. “Or they don’t care. They can already fly. Why are they using the planes?”

“Speed,” Bastion said as he came to stand in the middle of the deck. “Their flight speed seems limited. I think any fit sylph could run circles around them. Even a harpy could outpace them by gliding.”

Amaryllis harrumphed. “Yes, well, they are slow, but they have lift, and they seem steadier than some hair-brained sylph zipping around.”

“Steady isn’t fast enough to catch up to a ship like the Beaver, ” Bastion said.

“So they get awesome rocket planes,” I finished the thought. “So cool!”

Amaryllis whapped me with a wing. “No, you idiot, now they get terrifying rocket planes and the ability to catch up with us. They’ve already poked a hole in our balloon. That means the bladders inside it will all need to be patched once we’re not running for our lives. A few dozen more and we might be in actual trouble.”

I winced. I could gush over the coolness of the rocket planes later. “Right, you’re right. I think we might have to fight them off. Amaryllis, you’re good with ranged things, but you’re just the one harpy. Awen... wait, where’s Awen?”

Something clunked, and we all turned to stare as part of the Beaver’s  deck rose, then shifted to the side on a set of rails.

A dome, made of dozens of square glass panels, lifted up out of the hold with a constant click-click, like a bicycle’s wheel being spun. The machine rose some more, revealing Awen sitting on a little bench, legs pumping around a pedal while she huffed and puffed.

The front of the machine had four openings with long stalks sticking out of them, each with a set of curved metal plates and what looked like wire under heavy tension.

It was like Awen’s repeating crossbow, but... bigger, and there were four of them all linked together to a complicated set of controls.

The whole thing stopped with a heavy thump, then locked in place as Awen pulled a few levers. She started to spin a wheel, and with each turn the machine spun around a few degrees until it was pointing all four of its bows off the side.

“Whoa,” I said.

It looked like one of those turrets stuck on the back of those World War two bombers, only a bit more anachronistic.

“That’s really cool!” I cheered as I leapt over the divide between the Beaver’s  two hulls and landed next to Awen’s contraption. “How does it work?” I asked Awen.

She wiped the back of her hand across her brow. “Poorly.” She blinked. “Ah! I mean, this is just the prototype! I wanted a version that could slide out of the side of the Beaver. This one has awful traversing, and its turns too slowly. I haven’t even zero’d in the bows yet, and it takes a lot of concentration to reload one of them while firing the others. It’s all really inefficient.”

“But it looks so cool!” I cheered. There were brass doodads, and metal knobs, and little gears and all sorts of pulleys, the entire thing covered in layers of glass. A wire at the front was bent into a circle, holding a piece of glass that had an ‘X’ cut into it.

Awen flushed. “It’s just a prototype!” She wiggled her hands around, gesturing to the bows and the levers next to them. “The bows have a draw weight of around a hundred kilos, which is good because they fire these.” She tugged a long bolt from a rack and displayed it for me.

It was entirely made of glass, with a bulb at the end that looked like it was filled with something. It took some squinting to notice the mechanism at the very end of the bolt. “What’s that?”

“It’s a flint striker. The bulb is filled with fuel. It’s the only thing I had on hand that explodes  well. But the bolts are heavy, which means I need the entire lever system to reduce the amount of strength I need to reload the bows.”

“Awen, did you make an explosive, repeating AA ballista without anyone knowing?” I asked.

She looked away, cheeks still burning. “No one asked.”

“Awen, you are awesome. ”

I felt Amaryllis crowd in next to me to inspect Awen’s machine. “That looks like something I’d see in a report with the word ‘disaster’ in its title,” she said. “Well, as long as the disaster is on the side of the things bothering us.”

“Does it have a non-lethal setting?” I asked.

Awen and Amaryllis stared at me.

“Uh, nevermind.”

“Captain! They’re gaining on us,” Clive called back.

I ran up the steps at the rear of the ship so that I could see out over the back. The three planes were getting much closer. I could even make out the bright blue of the crystals tucked into the middle of the frames.

They were still a little ways away, but that wouldn’t last.

I bit my lower lip and considered things. They were faster than us on the straight-away, but they were planes, they’d need to turn and circle around a bunch.

“Clive, evasive maneuvers! Everyone else, get ready to fight!”

“Awa! I have my crossbow in the hold,” Awen said.

Bastion nodded and dove down, returning a moment later with Awen’s crossbow. That made two crewmates with ranged options, not including Amaryllis and myself with our magic.

“I’m going to try and create a barrier with Cleaning magic,” I said as I jumped back down. “But I don’t expect it to work that well.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make the fool regret tangling with us,” Amaryllis said.

“Hang on!” Clive called out a moment before throwing the wheel around and tugging a few of the control levers back. I felt it when the gravity engine shifted down and weakened its field.

The Beaver  shifted to the side and started to swing around with the slow ponderous motions of a whale turning in the ocean.

The planes came into view over the starboard side, the three in a loose arrowhead formation.

Awen’s turret spun, then locked into place. I saw her grin as she aimed down her sights.

The turret fired. Four shots with a quick T ack tack tack tack,  beat, and as many shiny blurs zipped out towards the planes.

It was clear right away that Awen had undershoot  by a bit, and maybe she’d underestimated the weight of her bolts since they flew well under the planes.

And then two of them exploded out some three hundred metres away, bright bursts of fire that filled the air with a sprinkling of glass.

“Reloading!” Awen screamed as she started tugging on levers.

I snapped out of it, then started to push as much Cleaning magic as I could out. If I could interfere with the magic creating the lasers, maybe I could save us some repairs later.

This was turning out to be a lot more exciting than I thought it would be. Who knew accepting a passenger could be so much work?

***

Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole.