Episode 3 and 4: Skypirates Ahoy! & One Small Problem

PREVIOUSLY ON SAGA OF THE JEWELS:

Seventeen-year-old Ryn’s hometown is attacked by the Empire and everyone he has ever known is killed. Just before he dies, Ryn’s father gives him a ruby, which causes him to project fire. Ryn is captured by the Empire and meets another captive, Princess Nuthea, who has the ability to project lightning, since she has touched the so-called ‘Lightning Crystal’. Nuthea explains to him that the Empire have learned of the existence of twelve Primeval Jewels which grant the ability to manipulate different elements, and are searching for them. Something blows a hole in the cell wall of the airship where they are being held and they fall into the sky together.

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Episode 3: Skypirates Ahoy!

Ryn fell through the air, one hand still clutching Nuthea’s.

They tumbled and span. White cloud and blue air rushed around them. Weightless, his stomach was somewhere far above him. The sensation might have been pleasurable were it not for the immediate prospect of collision with the ground below. 

Images of his recent past moved in rapid succession across his mind again. Mum dying. Dad dying. Roofs on fire. Somewhere over the noise of the rushing air he was aware of Nuthea screaming. 

The wind seemed to gust all of a sudden.

And then their fall was broken. 

Ryn slammed flat onto something hard with a loud thump. His face and limbs stang immediately from the impact, prickled with aftershock. 

This couldn’t be the ground. They had stopped falling much more quickly than he had expected. Plus, he was still alive.

Wood, he saw next to his cheek.

He had lost hold of Nuthea’s hand. Where is she?

Ryn pushed himself up onto his elbows with effort. 

Men stood around them, some brandishing swords, many of them gathered together at a rail at one end of the wooden platform Ryn and Nuthea had landed on. Cannons sounded, but below them now, from within this ship.

They had landed on the deck of another airship.

“What in the seven hells was that?” yelled a voice from somewhere behind them. Ryn only barely heard it over the noise of wind and cannonfire, but the voice was irate.

One man stood a few paces away, staring wide-eyed like Ryn was an Imperial invader come to kill him. He had a shaved head, baggy trousers, a cutlass sheathed at his side.

“Boy’n a girl, Cap’n!” the sailor called. “I think they just fell out of the Imperial ship!” 

“Well, what are you waiting for, you fool?” shouted the first voice, matching incredulity with fury. “Tie them up and stow them below! We don’t have time for this right now!”

“Y...yes, Cap’n!” The man hesitated, but then took a step towards them, drawing his sword from the sheath that hung on his belt with a sliding of steel. He held it out towards them. The point wobbled a little.

“You two!” said the sailor. “With me!”

“Not again…” mumbled Ryn, as much to himself as anyone else.

He looked to his side, wondering why Nuthea hadn’t said anything yet. She lay sprawled on her front on the wooden deck. Her eyes were shut. Fear lanced through Ryn.

The skysailor moved towards them purposefully.

“Please!” said Ryn, scrambling up, “I think she might be hurt! She needs a healer!” He had to shout over the noise.

The skysailor set his jaw. “Cap’n says you’re to be stowed below, so stowed below is what you will be!”

To Ryn’s own amazement, he put up his fists. “You’re not taking us anywhere! She needs help!”

The ship banked harshly to one side and Ryn lost his footing, stumbled and put his hand out to steady himself.

The sailor barely wobbled. Taking advantage of Ryn’s stumble, he stepped forwards and punched Ryn hard in the gut with the hilt of his sword.

“Oof!” Ryn doubled over as the wind knocked out of him. Pain in his stomach joined the pain in his head and the pain in his everywhere else. The skysailor grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up, and before he knew it Ryn felt a rope being wrapped around his arms and chest, tightening, so tight he could barely breathe.

Then he was being shoved and kicked with barks of “Get in there! Hurry up!” He staggered across the deck in bewilderment, battlecries and cannon sounds flying over him. When he glanced back he saw the sailor behind him prodding him, the prone form of Nuthea slung over one shoulder, her hair and hands hanging down limply, swaying with the steps. 

Beyond them, a huge Imperial airship filled the sky, descending rapidly, fire and smoke billowing out from its hull and blimp, a series of huge holes blown in its side. The ship they had just been on before.

Then he was shoved down some steps and through a door at their bottom and along a corridor with more angry barks, through another door into a cramped room not much bigger than a broom cupboard, with only a small circular hole for light.

“Stay in here!”  the skysailor said.

He kicked Ryn’s legs from underneath him, forcing him to land on his backside with a groan.

The fight went out of him. This was too much. This was the second time he had been taken captive in as many days. And his family… his hometown…

He felt something being propped up against his back. Nuthea. Another cord of rope joined the first that encircled him. The sailor tied her to him so that they sat back to back.

Ryn tried one last time. “Please…” he murmured. “I think she needs to see a healer...”

“Shut up,” spat the sailor. “We’re in the middle of an assault. You’ll stay in here till we’re finished. The Cap’n will deal with you after that.”

He slammed the door shut, leaving Ryn in darkness with only himself for conscious company.

“Nuthea?” he said at once. “Nuthea, can you hear me?”

Nothing. 

He craned his neck round to try to look at her. He couldn’t see much, but he could see that the silhouette of her head was lolled forward.

He turned back round to ease the strain on his neck. “Nuthea, wake up!” he said to the black wall in front of him.

Nothing.

He hoped to the gods she wasn’t dead. Actually, he didn’t hope it to anyone. What use had the gods been to him these last two days, after his lifetime of devotion and obedience? He just hoped it.

The girl felt warm against his bound arms and back. Ryn tried to slow his rapid breathing and concentrate on the feeling of her pressed against him to work out if she was still alive.

Yes--it was very gentle, but if he focused and tried to shut out the noise of battle above he could feel the slow rise and fall of her body. She was still breathing.

That’s a relief. Although...why do I care whether this girl lives or dies? he thought all of a sudden. All she’s done to me so far is lecture me. 

But she had talked to him all the same. And she was still a human being. And there had been something in the patronising and the lecturing… a sort of antagonistic kindness, of which Ryn realised he had grown weirdly fond... 

“And you are very beautiful…” he said aloud.

Ryn sat like that for a long time, just listening to the sounds around him and thinking, and willing for Nuthea to wake up. 

The ship continued to bank this way and that, to shudder and vibrate from time to time, but being tied up and sat down as he was none of this threw Ryn around any more. Outside the room, muffled to varying degrees, he could still hear men shouting, cannons firing, and the occasional crunch of wood.

His head still throbbed with so much pain. And his arms. And his legs. And his stomach. His throat was dry. He hadn’t had a drink in a long time. At least he didn’t need to pee. That was a mercy. How long that would last he didn’t know. The ropes were tight on his arms--it felt like they were cutting into his skin. He was hungry. He could barely think straight. His mind was aching fog.

I need to get out of here somehow. I need to get out of here and get my head together and work out what I’m going to do now that… His mother. His father. The houses of his hometown. Dead, aflame, destroyed.

“Mmmmurggghh...?” said Nuthea.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Ryn said. He felt her stir and lift her head behind him. “I’m glad you’re still alive!”

“...barely,” grumbled Nuthea. “Tell me…”

“Yes?”

“...tell me again about how very beautiful I am?”

Oh shit. “You...heard that?”

Nuthea laughed softly. “Where are we?” she asked after another quiet moan of discomfort.

“We’re on an airship,” Ryn said quickly, keen to change the subject. “A different airship. We landed on it somehow. I think they’re...pirates. I think they’re the ones who were attacking the Imperials. They shoved us in here while the battle finishes, but I think they’re winning.”

As if to confirm this, they heard a loud many-voiced cheer go up from outside. The cannonfire ceased. The cheering did not.

They listened out, and beneath the cheering, the sound of the ship’s engine grew deeper. Ryn’s stomach lurched again. The ship was descending.

Nuthea spoke. “Listen, when they interrogate us, just follow my lead.”

“Your lead? Er, alright then...” 

Eventually, they felt a jolt go through the ship, and the sound of the engine stopped. They had landed. 

Eventually, the sailor who had shoved them in here reappeared. 

“Right, you two.” His eyes were bright and he seemed unable to stop himself from smiling. “Captain wants to talk to you now.”

He wrenched them to their feet, before pushing them stumbling and tripping back up on deck, where he plonked them down on their backsides again.

Ryn had got a brief glimpse of the surroundings they had landed in before he was made to sit down. They were in wide, grassy plains. And a way away, he thought he had glimpsed the wreckage of the Imperial airship lying crushed on the ground. Yes, that was the smoke from it still leaking into the air. They must all be dead. Nobody could have survived a crash like that. Including that officer who killed my mother… Ryn felt a little pang in his heart at that realisation. He was glad that General Vorr was dead, but he discovered that he had wanted to be the one to kill him himself...

He turned his attention to his more immediate surroundings.

This time what must be the whole crew of the ship stood around them in a semicircle, regarding them. They largely wore brown leather jackets, and baggy beige trousers, with black boots. Some had goggles on their heads. Most had sheathed cutlasses at their sides. Ryn spotted one or two blunderbusses too. Some were fat, some were thin, some tall, some short. Some had shaved heads, some had thick beards and braids. All were men. All looked at them with a kind of leering curiosity. Ryn reckoned there were about twenty of them, though he could only see the ones in front of him.

In the middle of them stood a young man with a circular leather patch strapped over one eye, brown hair tied back in a ponytail and his own deep-brown, long leather jacket with a ridiculously high collar. His unexposed eye glinted mischievously as he grinned with one side of his mouth, baring stained teeth.

When he spoke, Ryn recognised the voice of the young man as belonging to the ‘Cap’n’ from earlier. 

“Who are you?” said the man, not bothering with any formalities. “Why were the Empire holding you captive?”

“We’re not telling you anything,” said Nuthea for the pair of them. “You’re just a filthy sky pirate!”

The captain’s boots resounded ominously over the deck. Out of the corner of his eye Ryn could see him crouch down in front of Nuthea.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, haven't’ you?”

Nuthea spat. 

A moment’s pause, and Ryn heard the sound of leather glove against skin at the same time as he felt Nuthea’s head turn abruptly to one side.

To her credit, she barely moaned.

“She’s a feisty one, isn’t she, lads? That’ll make it even more fun to break her!”

A deep, lecherous jeer went up from the crew.

“Leave her alone!” Ryn found himself yelling. “She hasn’t done anything to you!”

The pirate captain turned on Ryn. “Let’s see if you’re any more obliging, pup. Well? Who are you?”

Ryn didn’t see any point in lying about himself. If Nuthea wanted to keep her identity to herself, that was her business. “I’m nobody,” he said, more bitterly than he meant to. “A no one. I’m the only son of a landowning family in the town of Cleasor. You have no reason to hurt me--or her.”

“Well, Nobody of Cleasor, if you’re so unimportant, why did the Empire have you captive on one of their airships, hey? Answer me that!”

Again, Ryn didn’t see any point in lying to him about this either. “The Empire burned down my village. They killed everyone I know. They only spared me because--ow!”

Even though they were tied back to back together somehow Nuthea had been able to elbow him in the ribs. “Don’t!” She hissed.

“‘Don’t’ what?” said the captain.

Ryn was torn. He had no problem telling the sky pirate--but Nuthea wanted him to keep things a secret. Why?

The pirate captain drew one of the twin swords that hung on either side of his belt, producing a long, slightly curved blade. He grinned wickedly, then moved the point of it slowly in front of Ryn’s nose, making him flinch. Then he stepped around him and crouched down next to Nuthea, whose body suddenly went very stiff and still against his back.  

“Tell me why, or I slit the lady’s throat.”

“Don’t tell him, Ryn!” Nuthea cried out at once. “He’s bluffing! He won’t do it! He could get far more money by ransoming me!”

Ryn thought that was a reckless thing to say. He didn’t think he could take the chance. He had already seen that the captain wasn’t afraid of causing pain.

“I have flame-projection powers!” Ryn blurted out. “I got them all of a sudden when the Empire attacked my village! I think that’s why they captured me! Nuthea thinks it’s something to do with these magical jewels! They captured her because she has lightning powers! Don’t you try anything with me, or I’ll scorch you with fire! I’ve done it before, and I can do it again!”

“By the One…” Nuthea said behind him with a sigh. 

“You should be grateful…” Ryn couldn’t help himself whispering back, twisting his head to look behind him at the back of Nuthea’s golden-haired head. “I may have just saved your life…”

He looked up at the assembled sailors of the airship’s crew, standing around them.

A pause.

They burst out laughing. They threw their heads back and guffawed, held their bellies while they shook, and slapped each other on their backs. Some of them wiped tears of mirth from their eyes.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough, lads,” said the captain after a while. He stepped back round to Ryn’s side and held up his hand for silence, that devilish grin still stuck on his face, though Ryn wondered if he saw it crack just for a moment.

Eventually the laughter petered out.

“Fire and lightning powers?” said the Captain, mockery lacing every syllable. “Magical jewels? Do you expect me to swallow this, runt? If you’re going to play games with me, I will toy with you in turn!”

He bent down and moved his sword towards Ryn again, making him wince, but instead of skewering him, he reached past him and cut the cord tying Ryn and Nuthea together with a flick.

“On your feet!” said the captain. “Nobody mocks Captain Sagar Edbini! If you have ‘flame projection powers’, then show us, boy!”

Ryn stood up and rubbed the sides of his arms where the rope had bound him. He didn’t know why this guy, ‘Sagar’, was calling him a ‘boy’ when he didn’t look that old himself. He must be in about his early twenties. But he didn’t have time to ponder that now.

“Er, well,” said Ryn, “the thing is, it’s all quite new to me and I haven’t been able to summon the flames again since the incident at my village. I can’t produce them on demand. But I do really have them, I’m being honest. Also, I wouldn’t really want to hurt you, or any of your crew, unless I had to in self defence.”

It was stupid, but it was true.

The pirates laughed again, Captain Sagar too. They seemed unable to stop themselves.  

A bolt of bright white lightning shot out from behind Ryn with and lanced into the rail of the ship with a flash and a crack. It left a charred, black mark where it hit, a thin ribbon of smoke hissing up from it.

The pirates stopped laughing.

“Tie her back up again, quick!” shouted Sagar, spittle flying from his mouth.

His crew appeared hesitant. Nobody moved to do so.

“Sir pirate,” said Nuthea, like she was beginning a stern lecture, “if you think for one moment that I am going to allow myself to be detained once more, least of all by a common skypirate such as yourself, you had best think again, or your life may be forfeit.” Ryn took a couple of steps backwards so that he was in line with her. “As you can see, I’m a little more experienced with my own powers of elemental projection than my...companion here.” Companion? He was her ‘companion’ all of a sudden? What did that mean? “If any of you lays so much as a finger on me again, I will turn my lightning on you. Is that quite clear?”

Sagar opened his mouth, then shut it again. His grin was replaced by a deep scowl. After a moment he said, “There’s a lot of us, lady, and only one of you. Do you think you can use your little trick on all of us at once?”

“Do you want to find out?” said Nuthea icily. Ryn guessed that she had not enjoyed being slapped.

“Tie them up again, boys!” yelled Sagar.

None of his crew moved.

He looked round at them.

One man, slightly taller and stockier than the rest, who Ryn recognised as the one who had tied them up originally, turned to Sagar and said “But Cap’n… you saw what she just did…”

“Yeah,” piped up another, “she must be some kinda witch or something...”

“Bad luck to kidnap a witch,” said another.

“’s’what I heard too.”

“And, Cap’n, you’re the one who just cut their bonds!”

“Yeah! If you want to tie them up again, you do it!”

The Captain’s face turned red as a rose. An angry rose. He jumped up and down on the spot like a petulant child. 

“How dare you disobey me!” he yelled. “You just took down an Imperial ship under my command! So what if their lifeboat got away? The government of Imfis will pay us handsomely for this! You owe me! This is mutiny! Tie them up again right now or I’ll throw the lot of you overboard!”

“Well, you can’t throw us all overboard, captain.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be practical.”

“No more practical than all of us getting fried by lightning, to be honest.”

Lifeboat, Ryn thought, noticing something the Captain had said. So GeneralVorr might still be alive...

“It seems that we have reached something of an impasse, Captain,” said Nuthea, holding her head high. “Perhaps there is somewhere we could go to negotiate in private?”

“Ah, you hear that boys?” said the Captain quickly. She wants to negotiate in ‘private’. His grin was back. What was with this guy? He had gone from throwing a tantrum to making lewd suggestions on the turn of a gold piece.

One of the pirates wolfwhistled.

Another brief fork of lightning flashed out and singed the deck just in front of the Captain’s foot.

“Alright, alright!” he said at once, leaping back a step. He clenched his jaw and said more quietly, through gritted teeth, “Stop doing that in front of my crew!” He returned his voice to its previous volume. “Fine. By mutual consent, I will speak to you privately inside my cabin. Come with me.” He spun on his heel and walked off. “The rest of you, get back to work!”

“Aye aye, captain!”

As the crew dispersed to attend to various duties about the ship, all of them still unashamedly staring watching Ryn and Nuthea, to a man, the two of them followed the Captain through a door in the ship’s forecastle.

“Alright, stop playing around,” he said once he had shut the door and they were inside the room with a table and charts. “Where did the two of you really come from?”

“We told you,” said Nuthea. “The Empire captured us because we have powers of elemental projection.”

“Yes, I can see that in your case. But what about you, Nobody?” He jabbed a finger ar Ryn’s face.

“He’s just a bit newer to his powers,” said Nuthea. “But from what he reports, he definitely has them. It makes sense. The Empire wouldn’t have spared his life otherwise.”

“And you’re really just a Nobody from some backwater village?” the Captain continued, still looking at Ryn.

Ryn nodded.

“Fine then, but what about you?”said the Captain, switching back to Nuthea. “You don’t look like a Nobody from Nowhere.” He eyed the golden band that encircled Nuthea’s head underneath her hair. “Where did you come from?”

For a while Nuthea did not reply and her bottom lip disappeared underneath her upper. Then, eventually, she said, “My name is Princess Nutheanna Kaleuthea, of the Matriarchy of Manolia.”

The Captain’s eyebrows raised above his eyepatch. “A princess! The boys will be pleased…” he added to himself. “What are you doing all the way out here? We’re miles away from Manolia!”

“I was on an undercover diplomatic mission in Imfis when the Empire discovered my abilities and captured me.”

“A diplomatic mission? What kind of diplomatic mission?”

“An undercover one.”

“Yeah, but who to? About what?”

“That is my business.”

“Tell me!” demanded the captain, his face turning red again. “Tell me or I’ll run you through!”

There was a quiet crackling sound and sparks of electricity played across Nuthea’s fingers. The hairs on the back of Ryn’s neck stood up.

The captain held up his hands. “Alright, alright! This is going to get tedious quickly… Fine. Well, whatever you were doing, whoever you are, the pair of you sure as hells can’t stay on my ship. I can’t be having you undermining my authority all the time with this lightning nonsense. Soon as we put into the next port, you’re off.”

Ryn breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t like how tensely things had been playing out on this ship, and he would be very glad to get back onto solid ground. He had no idea what he would do there of course, but he knew that he preferred solid ground to skytravel.

“I thought you might say that,” said Nuthea. “But I have a different proposition for you.”

“You do?” said the Captain.

“You do?” said Ryn.

“I do. I have learned things on my journey that I need to report at home. I demand that you fly me to Manolia as quickly as possible.”

This time the Captain actually drew his sword with a ring of steel as his temper flared. Ryn and Nuthea both hopped back. “Look lady, I’m the one who does the demanding around here! I am the Captain of this ship, and I won’t be bossed around by some arrogant girl, princess or not!”

Electricity crackled around Nuthea again as the top corner of her lip pulled up in anger too.

“Nuthea…” Ryn said, looking back and forth between them, “please, be careful…” He was tired of violence. Mother. Father. Hometown.

“You can’t rely on your party trick forever, wench!” The captain spat. “I have a few tricks of my own up my sleeve! Even if you kill me before I kill you, my crew will overwhelm you! They’re the firecest band of cutthroats that you ever laid eyes on! They’ll gang up on you all at once! They’ll overpower you! They’ll murder you in your sleep! And I’ll bet you don’t know how to sail an airship!” he said finally, presumably as a last-ditch attempt to intimidate her into backing down.

Nuthea let out a deep breath and the sparks that had started to crackle around her dissipated into the air.

“I know…” she said at length. “That is why I am offering you a proposition: My homeland is very wealthy, and the royal family are wealthiest of all. Fly me back to Manolia, and I am sure you will be rewarded handsomely. With gold.”

Captain Sagar lowered his sword. This time just one eyebrow, the one above his good eye, crept up. “Gold, you say?” 

“Gold. And gemstones.”

“Gemstones, you say?”

“Gemstones galore. And there are many beautiful women in Manolia.” 

I find it hard to believe they’re half as beautiful as you, Ryn thought. He missed his most recent crush, Carlotia. He missed his mother. All dead.

“I am sure,” Nuthea continued, “that my mother, the Queen, would be very grateful to whoever rescued and returned their lost princess to her...”

The Captain’s eyes had gone somewhere else. “Gold… gemstones… beautiful women…” he said quietly to himself. He shook his head and his eyes refocused. “How can I be sure of all of this? What guarantee can you give me?”

“An understandable concern,” said Nuthea. “My lightning projection is a guarantee of my word, in more ways than one: Only Manolian royalty are crystal-touched. Only we have lightning-projection powers. But I appreciate that this is not common knowledge.” 

At this, Nuthea tugged the collar of her faded-white dress forwards slightly, and reached down inside it with her other hand. Ryn felt himself blush, and managed to look away. When he looked back, she had produced from somewhere about her person a short silver chain, and on it a large diamond set in a yellow gold pendant.

“Here,” she said, holding it out to the Captain, “take this as a down payment and a guarantee of my good will. There will be much more like this--when you return me safely to Manolia.”

Sagar stepped towards her and took the pendant with his free hand, holding it up to his face between two fingers to inspect it.

“Gold… gemstones… beautiful women…” he murmured.

He looked at them again.

“Alright. You make a persuasive offer. I’ll do it. I’ll fly you to Manolia.”

“You’ve made the right decision.”

“I know I have. Could...could you please just do me one favour?”

“What would that be?” Nuthea asked.

“Could you tell the crew that I fought you and tortured you into surrendering to me, then ravished you?” 

“Absolutely not,” said Nuthea at once. “I’ve never heard anything so base and ridiculous in my life. And Ryn’s been here this whole time too.”

“You could say that I beat him unconscious?”

“Out of the question.”

“How about that I tied him up in the corner?”

“No.”

“He cowered in the corner?”

“Look, said Nuthea. “Fine. If only to shut you up, I’ll tell them that you threatened me and that I gave in and offered you a reward if you took me back to Manolia. That’s sort of true, I suppose.”

“Done!” said the Captain. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he added as they made their way back out onto the deck.

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Enjoyed the episode? Read ahead and/or support Saga of the Jewels @ patreon.com/sagaofthejewels

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PREVIOUSLY ON SAGA OF THE JEWELS:

Seventeen-year-old Ryn’s hometown is attacked by the Empire and everyone he has ever known is killed. Just before he dies, Ryn’s father gives him a ruby, which causes him to project fire. Ryn is captured by the Empire and meets another captive, Princess Nuthea, who has the ability to project lightning. Nuthea explains to him that the Empire have learned of the existence of twelve Primeval Jewels which grant the ability to manipulate different elements, and are searching for them. The Imperial vessel where they are being held is in turn attacked by a pirate airship, and the pirates capture Ryn and Nuthea. The lead pirate, Captain Sagar, agrees to escort Nuthea back to her homeland, and to spare Ryn’s life, in exchange for the promise of gold, gemstones and beautiful women upon her safe delivery.

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Episode 4: One Small Problem

The airship Wanderlust sailed on a sea of clouds.

Ryn and Nuthea sat in the small viewing bubble built into the underside of the ship, watching the clouds and, further below, the landscape passing underneath as it was veiled and revealed by them. The viewing bubble was made of reinforced glass, on which they rested their feet as they sat on a wooden bench built across it. A speaking-tube came out of the ceiling that a lookout could talk into for their voice to be carried to another speaking-tube on the ship’s raised forecastle. 

Really designed just for one person to sit in, the viewing bubble was not quite big enough for two. Ryn was sure that Captain Sagar had only sent them down here to do the job of one person in order to keep them out of the way and prevent the crew from asking them any more awkward questions. 

He sat rigid and tried not to brush Nuthea with his elbow. It was difficult. 

This time, she was giving him a geography lesson.

“So we are currently flying over the Isle of Efstan,” she said. “You see those rolling green fields? They’re what Efstan’s famous for.”

“Well, I know that much,” said Ryn, not wanting to seem completely ignorant. “My hometown is…was in Efstan, after all.” He blinked away the images of burning buildings that flared up in his mind’s eye, then looked for the next question to distract him. “Where are we heading now, then? Where is your homeland?”

“Well, as I was saying, Manolia is situated on the much larger neighbouring land mass of Zokan. That’s where we’re heading. Soon enough, you’ll see, after we cross the Leviathan’s Channel the landscape will become much more varied and interesting, even mountainous in some places. And after we cross the Pelnian mountains, Manolia is a peninsula the juts into the Sundering Sea.”

“If that’s where you’re from, how did you end up all the way out here?” Ryn actually knew the answer to this question, but he wanted to keep Nuthea talking to distract himself from the intrusive memories that kept popping into his head.

“Don’t you ever listen?” She looked up from the clouds and fields below them for a moment and frowned at Ryn, her noble forehead creasing. “I was on an undercover diplomatic mission in nearby Imfis, in the north of Zokan, when the Imperials discovered and captured me.”

“But what were you doing on the mission?”

Nuthea’s eyes narrowed. She paused for moment. “I suppose I can tell you because you’re jewel-touched.” She adjusted the circlet she wore underneath her golden hair. “I was trying to engineer an alliance with them.”

“Why do you need to make an alliance with them?”

“We don’t, necessarily. But…” Nuthea dropped her voice, even though between the background thrum of the ship’s engines and the whistle of air beneath the hull nobody else would have the faintest hope of hearing her. “As you’ve seen, the Emperor of Morekemia has learned of the Jewels. He has begun to search for them, and his power and dominion are growing even now. He cannot be allowed to gather them all together. So any nations who have knowledge of the locations of our Jewels must band together to stop him.”

“What would happen if the Emperor gathered together all of the Jewels?”

Nuthea’s voice went even lower. “Didn’t I tell you that before? If someone, anyone, gathers all of the Jewels together, the legend says they will be granted unbelievable, unfathomable power. Command over every basic element of which Mid is composed. They would be practically omnipotent--all powerful.”

Nuthea gazed back out of the glass of the viewing bubble, her voice trailing off. Ryn followed her gaze down through the wisps of white and over the passing patchwork.

All powerful... Maybe they could grant the power to bring my parents back. My friends. My town. But no...that’s impossible. Maybe they could grant the power to find out if that General is still alive…

Just then something inside Ryn’s heart shifted. Where it had been numb and cold with grief, a small spark now lit within it. The numbness and the cold were still there, to be sure, but now there was a fragile flickering flame warming them too. A flame of desire. A flame of hope. A flame of purpose. He knew what he had to do.

He had to find and get revenge on the Imperial General who killed his mother.

At that same moment, the landscape shifted too. Without warning, the distant green fields below them gave way to a vast expanse of blue that stretched out below them further than they could see.

“Hey, look!” cried Nuthea. “The Leviathan’s Channel!”

It was mainly a deep blue, the colour of blueberries, but here and there it was lighter where the sunshine fell on it, or darker where the clouds obscured it, patches of shadow gliding over its surface. The surface itself shifted and glittered, fragments of white foam rising and falling over it, which Ryn realised were waves.

“It’s beautiful…” he muttered.

“Well, you use that word very freely,” Nuthea said, glancing sidelong at him. “You act like you’ve never seen it before.”

Ryn looked at her.

“Oh.”

“How long will it take us to get to Manolia?” he asked.

“With a full tank of fuel and a good wind...it should be about two days’ flying. We should make Zokan by nightfall of today, and Manolia by the end of tomorrow...”

They spent most of the rest of the day like that, sat together in the viewing bubble, watching the sea pass by, with Ryn asking Nuthea questions about the world below to keep his mind away from his memories and Nuthea being only too happy to enlighten him. They didn’t even go abovedeck to eat; instead a grumpy looking sailor came down and shoved a couple of plates of salt beef into their hands, then came back half an hour later to collect them. As they watched the sea gradually it, and the sky around them, grew darker, and the blue got deeper.

The shadow of a coastline appeared. And, right at its edge, a cluster of fireflies arrayed in a circle.

“At last,” said Nuthea, rubbing her back. “We’ve reached Zokan. Those are the lights of a port.”

A low buzzing noise joined the thrum of the engine, and Ryn’s stomach lurched as he felt the ship begin to descend.

“What?” said Nuthea. “We shouldn’t be landing already! We’ve got at least a day until we reach Manolia!”

She stood and dashed up the wooden steps that led out of the viewing-bubble chamber.

Ryn watched her go. Before they had sighted the coastline, she had been in the middle of educating him about the Twelve Peoples of Mid. For once, she had forgotten her lesson completely.

He stood too, then rubbed his thighs when they ached. Sitting in one place for the whole day had not been kind to his legs and backside.

He followed Nuthea up the steps to the underdeck and then up another set of steps to the maindeck, passing the little cupboard where they had first been thrown by the pirates during their battle with the Imperials.

Abovedeck, Ryn immediately noticed that the crew were a lot less busy than before. Many of them were standing at the rail, looking out at the firefly-lights and pointing.

Sagar was up on the reardeck, behind the big ship’s wheel.

“Why are we going down?” Nuthea demanded of him from the maindeck over the sound of the air rushing past.“We haven’t reached Manolia yet. We won’t for at least another day.” 

Sagar didn’t even look at her. “Simple! We salvaged a lot of bounty from that Imperial ship we took down”--his eyes flicked to Nuthea just for a moment--“a lot of bounty, but sadly fuel was not part of it. In fact, we blew up her fuel tank, which is what brought her down in the end. Now we need to refuel.”

“Can’t you keep going any longer on your current level? We need to reach Manolia as soon as possible.”

“No.”

“I will give you more money.”

“Not going to work, miss. Or ‘princess’. Or whatever you are. We need fuel. And that’s that.”

Nuthea marched up the steps to join Sagar on the reardeck. Ryn went after her.

“I can’t believe that you already need to refuel,” she said as the Captain continued to take the ship down. “I need to get back to Manolia as quickly as possible. You should have had enough for a return voyage. Where did you set out from anyway?”

She was quite stubborn really.

“Rrrr,” Sagar said quietly, still looking straight ahead. “Will you shut up? I’m not just refueling--Wanderlust needs some repairs too.”

Ryn’s heart missed a beat.

“You mean there’s something wrong with the ship?” Nuthea voiced his concern for him. 

A couple of the skysailors looked round at them from where they stood by the rail on the maindeck.

Sagar’s jaw stiffened. “Not so loud, princess,” he said through gritted teeth. “No, the ship’s absolutely fine!” he said more loudly. “We just need fuel, that’s all!”

The sailors turned back round.

“What’s wrong with the ship?” Ryn asked, keeping his voice low.

“Look; pup, princess,” said Sagar, “When you’re in a major battle with an Imperial vessel, you don’t come out of it unscathed. We had the jump on them and we made quick work of them in the end, but the hull sustained some heavy cannonfire in the process. It wouldn’t be so bad, except one of our fuel lines to the turbines got hit. We’re not just low on fuel, we’re leaking it.”

“Oh,” said Nuthea.

A pause.

“Why don’t you tell your men?” asked Ryn.

Sagar squinted at him with his one exposed eye. “You wouldn’t understand, pup. When you’re a fearsome skypirate captain like me, you have a certain reputation to preserve….”

“What you mean is,” said Nuthea, “that your crew barely follow your orders at the best of times, so you don’t want them to know that you’re only just holding your ship aloft.”

Sagar didn’t say anything back. But even in the darkness he seemed to turn a shade redder.

“Can’t your engineer fix the fuel line?” Nuthea pressed.

“Well, normally he would, princess, but there’s just one small problem getting in his way at the moment.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s dead.”

“What?”

“I told you to keep your voice down. We lost a few men in the battle with the Imperials. My engineer was one of them. He was near the fuel line after it got hit, trying to repair it. Another cannonball hit him direct. We lost two others as well. The crew are a bit cut up about it, so that’s another reason I don’t want them to know about the damage we’ve taken. Their morale needs looking after. So now you know. I’m landing, princess, because not only do we need to fix the fuel line, but we need to find somebody to do it too...”

Nuthea seemed to have no response to that. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and looked away from Sagar, out at the growing lights of the port town, the same way as the crew.

“Do you always pilot your own ship?” Ryn asked.

“Course not, pup. I have my crew to do that. But it’s good for the captain to take the helm from time to time. It reminds them that I still know how. It reminds them that I’m the best airship pilot this side of the Sundering Sea. Now shut up; I need to concentrate. We’re coming in to land.”

As they had been speaking the firefly-lights of the port-town had been growing steadily brighter. Now Ryn could see that one cluster of them was arranged in a large circle, which he guessed must be an airship dock.

Sure enough, Sagar guided Wanderlust down towards this circle. As they approached, some of the other fireflies became lights in the windows of buildings. The structures of the town were many and packed in closely together.

In fact, Ryn realised, the port wasn’t a town at all, but a city.

All of a sudden he felt very small.

Eventually, the circle of fireflies they were flying towards became a collection of huge naptha beacons, giant flames burning in glass containers, like a ring of enormous lanterns. In the space they encircled, parked on the grey earth, were about a dozen other airships. 

Sagar piloted his blimp-bourne ship over a large space on the airfield, slowing her as he went. Then he flicked a switch on the control panel of the console that protruded out of the floor next to the ship’s wheel.

The whole ship dropped slowly to the ground. They landed with a gentle crunch of earth, the purr of the turbines wound down, and the ship was still. 

Little dots had been starting to move towards them in the naptha light as they were coming in to land. Now Ryn saw that the dots were people, who were now rushing up to the side of the ship.

“Fresh dates!” called out the first man who made it to Wanderlust’s side, carrying a box slung round his neck by a cord. “Refresh yourself after a long voyage!”

“Draught ale!” cried another, carrying a tankard in each of his hands, sloshing liquid. “Free sample! Only the best at the Traveller’s Rest!”

“Get your cheese, right here! Recently made, prime quality, cheese on a stick! I’ve got soft cheese, hard cheese, stinky cheese, blue cheese! Get it all here!”

Some of Sagar’s crew called out their orders and threw down pennies for them, or jumped down to the ground and started to haggle.

“Out of the way, you vermin!” a gruff voice called out over the haggling. “I told you to wait until they’ve paid their landing fee before you approach! You’re lucky I even let you on this airfield!”

These words had been spoken by an extremely fat man dressed in black leather, the folds of his belly leaking out from under his jacket and over the top of his trousers. He wore huge, thick goggles under his dirty grey hair and messy beard. The naptha light glinted off his left leg oddly. It was made of metal, and he moved awkwardly on it.

The airfield vendors completely ignored him, and went on selling and haggling over their goods with the newly arrived sailors, but he didn’t address them further. “Sagar!” he called out. “Get your sorry arse down here and pay me your landing fee!”

“Wait here,” Sagar said to Ryn and Nuthea with a pointed look from his un-covered eye. He walked to the side of the ship’s deck and climbed over, down some hand-holds built into the side of the ship, to the ground.

Nuthea went after him.

Why does she need to go too? Ryn thought.

Her gold-crowned head popped up above the side of the ship for a moment.

“Aren’t you coming?”

He shrugged, and followed her.

On the ground, Sagar and the man were already arguing.

“Fifty gold pieces?” said Sagar. “It was twenty-five last time, Roldo!”

The man spat on the ground. “Yeah, well I heard you took down an Imperial Skyship yesterday. News travels fast, pretty boy. And these are uncertain times. Rumour is tensions are building with Morekemia as things are,”--Nuthea’s back stiffened a little at that--“and I need to look out for myself. Fifty gold pieces. It’s not like you’ve got any other choices. And you’ve already landed the damn thing.” 

“Rrrr, fine,” said Sagar quietly, and fished in his own leather jacket for the coins before handing them over.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” said Roldo, stashing the money away in an inside pocket with a brown-toothed smile. “Why’re you back so soon, anyway, Sagar?” He leant his head back to look at the hull of Wanderlust. “And what exactly have you been up to, anyhow? Your ship looks pretty beaten up.”

“None of your damn business,” said Sagar, batting the airfield owner’s question away with a wave of his hand. He still spoke quietly. “Listen to me, Roldo, I need to ask you something. I’m down an engineer and I need to recruit one, fast. Where’s the best place I can find myself an engineer in Ast these days?”

Roldo’s magnified eyes narrowed inside his goggles.

“Why should I tell you?”

Nuthea spoke up. “Because we have something that needs fixing, why else?”

Sagar turned his head, as if noticing her for the first time. “Hey, butt out, princess, I’m busy here. Go and wait on the ship.”

“That’s extremely rude of you,” Nuthea replied. She didn’t move.

Sagar sighed, then grabbed Roldo’s scraggly beard and yanked him closer, looking him right in the face.

“You tell me, lard-tub, because I’m asking, and because I just gave you fifty gold pieces to park my ship on this little scrap of dirt.” He let go.

“Alright, alright!” said Roldo, rubbing his chin. He spat again. “Gods, there’s no need to get all whiny about it.” He tapped his lips in thought. “There’s a brilliant young engineer currently working as a freelancer, name of ‘Elrann Luccavich’. In fact, Elrann’s been down here lately servicing some of the ships of the other miserable bastards who’ve landed in Ast.” 

“Where can I find him?”

Roldo grinned. “Now?”

“Now.”

“Usually in the Traveler’s Rest. Like I said, ask for Elrann. Not easy to miss.”

“Why?”

“Elrann has purple hair. Zerlanese.”

“That’s all I needed to know.” As he turned, Sagar flicked another single gold piece spinning into the air. Roldo’s hand shot out and he snatched it, then pocketed it with a lick of his hairy lips.

Sagar climbed back up on board the ship without another word. Ryn waited for Nuthea to go next, then furrowed his brow at her when she didn’t.

“You really can be quite slow-witted, can’t you?” she said. “You go first.” 

“Why?”

“I’m not having you looking up my dress.”

“Oh!” Ryn said, a hot blush rising in his cheeks. “Sorry!” The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, but now it did and he blushed even hotter.

Up on the maindeck Sagar addressed his crew as they stood round him.

“Listen, men,” he bellowed. “I’m worn out from all our plundering so I’m going to go ashore and refresh myself for the evening at an inn.”

“Waheyyyy!” said one of the pirates, and others joined in.

“We all know what that means!”

Some of them made obscene gestures. Ryn grinned, then looked at Nuthea. Her expression could have curdled milk. He dropped his grin and tried to frown disapprovingly.

Sagar held up his hands for quiet. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll also be sure to register our takedown of the Imperial Ship at the local guild tomorrow. Then it’s off to Manolia to collect still more bounty! Arrr!”

“Arrrr!” cheered the crew in unison, jubilant.

“Look after Wanderlust while I’m gone. You can go ashore too, but I want a skeleton crew of at least ten on board at all times, and everyone back by noon tomorrow. Carrick is in charge until I return. Got it?”

“Aye, Captain!” the men chanted.

“Good. Now get lost!”

The crew dispersed, and Sagar watched them go with a satisfied smile on his face.

“Where is this ‘Traveller’s Rest’ then?” said Nuthea.

Sagar blinked, like he’d been yanked out of a daydream. “Why the hell do you need to know?”

“We’re coming with you.”

The pirate shook his head. “No. You bleeding well are not.” 

“Yes we are.”

“Why in the seven hells do you think you need to come?”

“I’m coming to make sure that you hire an engineer as quickly and efficiently as you can without getting...distracted. I told you, I need to make sure that we can make it to Manolia as quickly as possible.”

Sagar closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his forehead. “Rrrr.” But he already had the look of a defeated man. “Fine.” He looked up again, now at Ryn. “But why do you need to come too, pup?Why are you even still sticking around at all? You’re not trying to get back to Manolia, are you? You can get off here. You can go anywhere you want. Why are you still here?”

Ryn opened his mouth and said…

...nothing. He didn’t have a reply to that. In fact, he realised, he hadn’t really thought about why he was still here at all. He had been acting automatically, still too traumatised and dealing with the destruction of his hometown and the death of his mother and father to think much for himself. All he knew was that he wanted to find the Imperial General who had killed his parents and take revenge on him. But he had no idea where to start looking. 

If anyone was going to be able to help him find him, though, it was Nuthea, he realised. She seemed to know a lot about the world, and the Empire. Plus, she had elemental projection powers, like he did. Maybe she would be able to help him in developing his newfound skill so that he could find and kill General Vorr. 

And she was beautiful, even if he did over-use that word...

In the time it took for him to think these things, Sagar and Nuthea had walked off to go and look for an engineer.

“Hey, wait for me!” Ryn called as he ran after them.