The Lost Star's Sea

by C. Litka

  01

  A hazy patchwork of greens and browns stretched out and faded into blues in the hazy distance below us. The sails had been shifted to wings and we were now gliding above and along the edge of the island, slowly descending in a reassuringly sedate manner.

  'There's Vintra Point,' said SaLin, pointing to a sharp mountain sized outcropping on the edge of the island. 'Devere will be in sight shortly. Perhaps we should cut cards now to set our jumping order.'

  There were no takers. That joke had grown old.

  Our landing was anti-climatic. An hour after sighting Vintra Point, a dun colored smudge came into view, that resolved itself into Devere, a large city that looked like a giant maze from above.

  'The old city is made up of large block sized buildings - six or more stories high - with narrow streets in between,' said Trin. 'The city was built for defense and since walls cannot keep flying attackers at bay, each building is a fortress. They're built of stone, with slits for light, ventilation, and crossbow bolts, but they're too narrow to get through. The narrow streets between the blocks also makes attacking in force difficult. They have one gateway leading to a central courtyard. Shops fill the ground floors, with workshops and residences above them. An overhead grid of beams prevents attackers from gaining easy entry. Many people work and live in the same building. However, in the long peace, the city has expanded outwards with smaller and less fortified factories, shops and residences.'

  The boat and flier port was a wide grassy field at the edge of the city. It was surrounded sheds, hangars, and a line of large godowns lining the city side of it. There wasn't much of a wind, so we spiraled down and skidded to a landing with little more than a lurch and a creak of the boat's light-built frame.

  'Soft! Still lucky,' said DarCe brightly.

  We climbed out eager for the feel of solid, safe, ground beneath our feet. I took a big lungful of the warm, slightly smokey, and cooking-scented air that drifted across the field from Devere, and made a jump or two to get a feel for Windvera's gravity. It seemed much like Daeri's, which is to say, not a lot, but enough. It may've been pulling me towards the center of the continent, but I didn't notice it.

  We all pitched in to unload our various trade goods from the cargo hold, as several carriages and cargo wagons set out from the edge of the field toward us.

  These were versions of Windvera's standard pedal-powered vehicles. They had two large iron wheels in front with rims set with small barbs for traction in the light gravity. In the case of the cargo wagons, four "pedal-men" sat between and behind the front wheels to power them. The carriage had two. The two smaller, narrow set back wheels were steered by the wagon's "captain" standing on a raised platform over them with the tiller. The cargo deck was low and flat, the carriages a bench down the center line with the seats facing out.

  Our fellow passengers hired the carriage and after loading their sample cases aboard, we said our goodbyes and good lucks to them.

  As they drove off, Naylea called my attention to the dragons, who were making a ruckus.

  'This is Siss's first island that is large enough to have a real gravity,' said Naylea, watching them. 'She's not taking to gravity too well.'

  'Nor Hissi's laughter,' I added.

  Hissi had been demonstrating how to walk, skip, and lope along like a giant squirrel, but I'm afraid she found Siss's attempts to copy her rather humorous. So between her barks of laughter and Siss' growls of anger, they had attracted a wide ring of rather wary, but curious onlookers. They now stood hissing at each other, menacingly.

  'You better sort things out, Litang, before they start taking chunks out of each other,' said Naylea.

  'Oh, they'll get over it.'

  'Siss is pretty angry. Talk to her.'

  'Why me? She's your companion.'

  'Because you're a dragon-talker,' she replied with a laugh. 'And Siss is sweet on you. Put your oily charm to work. And you'll need to have a word with Hissi as well. I can't do that.'

  I was certain Naylea could have dealt with the ruckus like she had in the floating jungle, but since they both looked genuinely angry, was better to deal with them with a quiet talk. I wandered over to where Siss was standing on her hind legs, swaying and hissing, at Hissi. I put my arm around her shoulder.

  She turned her head and gave me her one eyed look, still hissing and showing all of her many teeth. I could feel the tension in her shoulders.

  'I know Hissi can be annoying. But then, I suspect that you selected her just for that characteristic?'

  She growled softly. Her glittering black eye bored into mine. She wasn't in the mood for kidding.

  'Well, be that as it may, I'm sure she just got a little carried away with her critiques. However, you're a smart dragon, you'll get the hang of it by the time we reach those godowns ahead. I assure you, no one will notice if you're a little awkward at first. You needn't be embarrassed?'

  Another growl.

  'Hissi has hundreds of rounds of dealing with gravity. You've had only a few minutes. You'll be larking with Hissi within no time. So just relax. I'm going to have a word with Hissi and I'm sure she'll apologize.'

  A deeper growl, but I could feel her shoulders relaxing. 'Right,' I said, and releasing her shoulder, ducked under her head and started for Hissi, who was watching me warily.

  She tried to pull away when I reached for her shoulder, but I was having none of that. I put my arm around her and pulled her close. 'Hissi,' I said softly. 'Don't be like that. I know that you don't have a mean bone in your body?'

  A deep growl to dispute that.

  'No you don't. I raised you from an egg. You can't fool me. You just got a little carried away with having your fun, that's all. No malice intended. And now you find yourself in an awkward position. I know you don't think you did anything wrong - nothing for Siss to get so angry about. But she is. I think you owe her a word of apology. Only Siss will hear it. All these strangers will never know the difference. You know you'll eventually make up, why prolong the unpleasantness?'

  She growled again. These Simla dragons have an ego.

  'You're a smart dragon. You're not only a card shark and a chess master, but you're a follower of the Way. You still have the yellow scarf they gave you. Don't disappoint Py. You know, as well as I do, that the Way can be summed up in one word - kindness. In your delight in your prowess in gravity, you didn't realize that you were being unkind. That can't be undone. But you can make me, and Py, proud by showing that you are a true follower of the Way by acknowledging your error and apologizing to Siss.'

  She watched me silently.

  'You're my daughter, Hissi. I'm proud of you. I'm certain you will apologize eventually, but if you do it now, you'll save yourself and Siss a lot of unpleasantness and you'll show Py and everyone who knows you, just how grown up you are.'

  She considered that for a moment, and then gave me a kiss on my nose with her long tongue.

  I gave her a shoulders a squeeze. 'That's my girl.' And walked away.

  She hopped tentatively over to Siss. They stared at each other for a second or two. And that was it.

  'You are indeed, a dragon-talker,' said Trin with a shake of her head.

  'He's an oily snake-in-the-grass,' said Naylea with a laugh. 'Trust me, it's not dragons he charms with his oily earnestness, it's females.'

  'But only the most dangerous of females,' I replied, which earned me a brief but tender look and a fleeting smile from Naylea.

 

  02

  After we loaded the wagon with our cargo we started off for the godowns at the edge of the field.

  Around us, anchored to the ground or housed in hangars, were some of the strangest airships I've ever seen. No two were alike, differing in size, color, shape and position of their wings and rudders - each a colorful creation in bamboo and fabric of adventurous inventor. All looked rather frail, constructed from canvas stretched over a light frame of bamboo. Most had propellers in the nose, powered by either
the pilot, or a pedal-man crew. Still, in the light gravity, even a single pilot could keep his craft airborne, as several of these bamboo birds soaring silently overhead attested to.

  'Do you think there are any fliers large enough to carry our party?' I asked Trin as we rode along with our trade goods.

  'Perhaps. But I wouldn't advise it. They may look safe enough. (They didn't.) But that's because the wind is slight. It's when they get caught in a storm, things get ugly. They either break apart in midair, get smashed into the ground, or carried off into the wide-sky, never to be seen again. The government uses them as fast couriers, but I suppose, if you join the royal air-courier service, you can expect to die sooner or later. Trust me, we don't want to fly. An experienced wagon crew will likely outrace a flier over the distances we need to travel and get you there alive.'

  The godowns, long, six story stone warehouses, stretched in a row along the main road known as Long Street. It linked Devere to the kingdom's capital city of Taravere. There was a lively produce market between the wide street and the godowns. Our wagon's captain had to carefully navigate through the stalls to reach the tunnel-like entryway of the godown. The entryway opened onto a long, narrow, and dim-lit courtyard, that bustled with noisy activity. Five lamp-soot blackened stone ledges circled the courtyard. In the shadows behind the railings were the storerooms and offices of the godown's tenants. Wagons were loading or unloading goods that moved up or down from the surrounding storerooms in large cargo nets. Long shafts of light filtered down from the grid overhead - white with lantern smoke, dancing dust motes, and the thick aroma of spices, hides, foods, aromatic wood, and working humans. We offloaded our crates of brandy below the distillery's upper level storeroom and let down a cargo net that had been hanging from the rafters..

  'If you'll pile the crates onto the net, I'll go up and rouse out GrenDar, our agent, if he's about,' said Trin. 'After we get the brandy stored away, we can get your coins exchanged for the local currency.'

  'Right,' I said.

  She briskly set out for the steep ramps at the far end of the courtyard that zigzag up through the five levels.

  We had the cases stacked in the net by the time Trin had roused out GrenDar and opened a gate in the handrail far above. Equipped with a pulley system, lifting the crates in the light gravity proved to be an easy task, and on reaching the fifth level where the Cimmadar's Finest Daffa Brandy Company had its office and storeroom, Trin and GrenDar hooked the cargo net and dragged it onto the landing.

  The Cimmadar's Finest Daffa Brandy Co. on Windvera consisted of a small office, lit by oil lamps, with a back storeroom with less than a dozen crates in it. The Windvera business was a new, small scale operation, but GrenDar was delighted with the new supply, since, he assured Trin, business was steadily increasing. He said he'd just sent a letter asking for more product.

  After stowing the brandy, Trin took us around the upper level's narrow walkway to the tiny office of a money-changer. Here, under her eagle-eye, I exchanged half of my Saraime coins for the local equivalent in silver, copper and elaborately engraved paper notes that would be good in the Kingdom of Taravin and, at a slight discount, in the Empire of Dajara, where Marsh Waters is to be found.

  'You know how to find Orchard Hill Community?' asked Trin, for the second or third time as we stood on the edge of the market and Long Street.

  'Aye. We head that way, ' I pointed in the direction that I'll call "west," 'Once we reach the hills - three or four hours away - at the first village we come to, we are to take the road to the right, and walk another half an hour or so. Can't miss it. Right?'

  'What's the name of the village?'

  'Kandiher,' I replied promptly. 'Trust me, we won't get lost.'

  She gave me a look that expressed her misgivings, though I don't know why. 'I'll be along in three or four rounds, once I see to the business here.'

  I nodded. 'Yes. Got that too.'

  She seemed to be doubtful, but that may've simply reflected some misgivings about her decision to accompany us. 'Right. Let's buy some dust scarves and you can be on your way.'

  'Dust scarves?'

  'The road gets dusty beyond the city. Just look,' she said, pointing to the steady stream of pedestrians, wagons and lopemounted riders coming in from the countryside.

  They had slipped their dust scarves down around their necks and wore them like bandanas, but the upper halves of their faces showed a thin mask of white dust, which not only covered their faces, but their clothes as well. They left a little cloud of dust with every step.

  'Will the whole road be like that?'

  'Only near the city, where the traffic is heavy.'

  We found a vendor in the market and we each bought one - silk strips with adjustable straps in the back for a snug fit.

  'You know the way, don't you?' she asked me yet again after we had donned and adjusted our dust scarves. I caught Naylea laughing behind her.

  'Yes, my dear, Trin,' I sighed, and repeated her directions, yet again. 'We won't get lost.'

  'And the name of the village?

  'It's still, Kandiher. First village at the foot of the hills.'

  Trin nodded, trying to look hopeful. 'Right. I'll see you in three or four rounds.'

  We said our goodbyes, slipped on our backpacks, and entered the thick flow of traffic rumbling over the plank road. Looking back, I could see her watching us, no doubt to make sure that we were following the right road and going in the right direction - even though there was only one to follow.