She would have a guardian, Stephano thought. A good man who would give his life for her. And so would Miri.
He was behaving like a spoiled brat, wanting the prize only because someone else had won it.
He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and turned, ready to congratulate the happy couple. The happy couple did not emerge. All he saw was Rodrigo, who grabbed hold of his friend’s arm and hustled him down the gangplank.
“We need to talk. Miri asked Dag to marry her,” said Rodrigo in a low tone.
“You were eavesdropping?” Stephano asked, frowning.
“My dear fellow, how do you think I have survived at court all these years? Of course, I was eavesdropping.”
“I don’t want to hear—” Stephano began.
“Dag refused her,” said Rodrigo.
Stephano stared, incredulous. “He did what?”
“He said no. He told her she didn’t love him. She wanted a father. I was shocked. I hardly expected Dag to be that perspicacious.”
“I’ll have a talk with both of them—”
“No, you won’t.” said Rodrigo sternly. “I knew that would be your first impulse and that’s why I came to stop you.”
“But—”
“My dear friend, I allow myself to be guided by you in matters in which you excel. For example, I do not tell you how to load the swirly gun.”
“Swivel gun.”
“Precisely. And you do not tell me how to handle affaires de coeur. You will stay out of this. Dag’s refusal was one of the bravest and most selfless acts I have ever witnessed. Don’t take that away from him.”
“Did he refuse her because of me? Miri and I are just friends—”
“No, not because of you. Haven’t you ever listened to Dag talk about his mother? Her religious views?”
“I guess so, but I don’t see—”
“She taught him that a man’s carnal urges are wicked, sinful. That a woman endures a man’s lust because of the need to procreate. There’s a reason Dag is friends with that couple in Westfirth who own the whorehouse. He won’t inflict his evil urges on any woman he loves.”
“Good God!” Stephano was amazed.
“As for Miri, she is looking for the father she lost when she was a child. She thought at first it was you, but you aren’t the fatherly type. That failing, she turned to Dag. She mistook her need for a father for the need for a husband.”
“How do you know all this?” Stephano felt out of his depth.
“I am a student of human nature, my friend. I find the subject fascinating. Take you, for example.”
“Me?” Stephano was alarmed. “What’s there to study about me? I’m perfectly normal.”
Rodrigo placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder and said gently, “Someday we’ll talk.”
7
The lift tank is starting to supersede the balloon as the primary means of lift on board a ship. Built into the hull at the base of each wing, lift tanks filled with the Breath provide a more stable and better protected means of buoyancy than balloons, of particular importance to the modern warship. Constructs set into the interior of the tank allow for finer control of a ship’s trim and pitch. Many ships now combine lift tanks with a single, primary balloon for both lift and ballast.
—Principles of Modern Ship Design, Master Wilhelm Van Vliet
The night passed quietly. Dag handed off the watch to Stephano, who tried to look as if he were completely unaware of what had happened. He apparently failed, because Dag said to him, “You know about me and Miri, sir.”
“I know,” said Stephano, adding lamely, “I’m sorry.”
Dag nodded. “It’s all for the best. Good night, sir.”
He went off to his bed. Stephano remained on deck, staring out at the stars, thinking about the vagaries of human nature and wondering uneasily what Rodrigo had meant when he’d said We’ll talk.
Stephano rousted everyone out of bed before the dawn. Afraid the Bottom Dwellers might return to finish the job, he decreed that they should leave the island tomorrow at first light. He and Dag undertook the arduous task of dismantling and removing the cannons and the frog. Miri and Gythe were in charge of inflating the balloon, while Rodrigo carried everything deemed nonessential off the Cloud Hopper. He was practically in tears as he bade good-bye to his shoes.
No one spoke of the affair de coeur, but everyone could feel the tension in the air. Miri was curt and businesslike, and her eyes were red from crying. Gythe simply looked unhappy, her gaze often going from Dag to Miri. Dag was stoically silent, while Stephano talked too much. Only Rodrigo was himself, deploring the loss of his wardrobe—especially the lavender coat and the Estaran boots—and getting in everyone’s way. Doctor Ellington, rousted from his usual place beneath the cannon, departed in high dudgeon, heading into the woods.
No one mentioned the fact that tomorrow morning they would find out if the Cloud Hopper was capable of flying or if they would be stranded on this island. At which point, Stephano had decided he would turn to the dragons for help. He didn’t mention this to Miri.
Each of the Cloud Hopper’s four-pound cannons weighed a shade over a thousand pounds. The short barreled frog weighed about eight hundred pounds. Stephano and Dag suspended the block and tackle from a support spar on the main mast with another set on a nearby tree. The two men hoisted each cannon with the first set of tackle, shifting the weight to the ropes hanging from the tree. Four grueling hours later, the cannons were lying under the tree, covered by spare sail canvas.
Miri and Gythe inflated and secured the balloon. Miri connected a hose from the last remaining tank to the balloon, then carefully opened the valve, allowing just enough precious gas into the balloon so that the amount of lift equaled the weight of the balloon. Once the balloon was inflated, Gythe began connecting the mainstays—the heavy ropes that secured the balloon to the hull of the ship. Miri added more lift gas, to again equalize the balloon’s weight.
Gythe climbed up into the rigging to maneuver the balloon into its mooring position between the lower support spar and the top gallant support spar. She connected the top stays to the main mast and the mizzen mast. Finally, she connected ropes known as braces, which controlled the side-to-side movement of the balloon, preventing it from fouling the sails.
Miri attached the braided leather control cables that carried the magical energy from the helm to the balloon, allowing the helmsman to adjust the amount of lift in each of the balloon’s chambers. Tomorrow, Miri would finish filling the balloon, using all the gas they had left.
While they worked, they kept watch for bat riders. When Gythe, up in the rigging, put her fingers to her mouth and gave an earsplitting whistle and pointed to the sky, everyone dropped what they were doing. Dag grabbed his blunderbuss. Stephano drew his pistol.
“Not bat riders,” Miri reported, relieved. “It’s Petard.”
“Put the guns down,” Stephano ordered.
The wild dragons had occasionally flown over the campsite, appearing more curious than threatening, circling a few times, peering down at the humans and their wrecked boat, then flying off. Generally the three came together. Today there was only Petard.
“He might be here to see if Miri and Gythe are safe,” said Stephano. “Wave to him, everyone. Show him we are grateful.”
Rodrigo brandished a shirt he happened to be carrying. Miri called out to the dragon to let him know she and Gythe were well and to ask after the dragon’s health. Petard circled lower, seemingly interested. Stephano stepped into the center of the clearing.
“We are leaving the island tomorrow morning, Petard,” he shouted. “We have enjoyed knowing you and your friends. We will always be grateful to you for saving Gythe’s life. We are forever in your debt.”
Petard flew over the camp several times, once swooping so low that they could feel the rush of wind from his passing and see the wounds he had sustained in the fight with the demons. The dragon stayed with them only a few moments, then fle
w off toward the mountain.
“That was odd,” Rodrigo remarked.
“He’s a dragon,” Miri said, as if that explained everything.
They went back to work.
By evening, the work was finished, the balloon ready to be completely filled in the morning.
The cannons were hidden away, and the deck cleared of everything except the small table, where they ate their meals, and the stools on which they sat.
Rodrigo had found time to whisper a few words of comfort to Miri. Stephano did not know what his friend said, but Miri let Rodrigo keep his Estaran leather boots. Rodrigo must have spoken to Dag, as well, for Stephano saw Dag shake Rodrigo’s hand, something that had never happened in all the years they’d known each other.
Dinner was made up of all the food they couldn’t pack. Miri’s frugal nature could not bear to see it go to waste. She talked about the morning, speaking cheerfully, assuming they were going to be leaving. No one mentioned the possibility that they might not. Dag was so tired he fell asleep sitting at the table with the cat curled up in his lap. Stephano woke him to send him and the Doctor to bed, saying he would take first watch. Gythe brought out her harp, but no one was in the mood for music, and they made an early night of it.
Stephano was alone on deck, letting himself wallow in homesickness. He missed the noise of carriages rattling past at all hours, the cries of children playing stickball in the street, the shouts of the vendors; all the sights and sounds and smells of humanity. Lost in his memories, he was jolted back to the island when he saw the wings of a dragon blot out the stars.
Stephano thought at first this dragon was Petard. He soon realized he was wrong. This dragon was a stranger, one he had never before seen. The moon shed light enough so that he could see that the dragon’s scales glittered green, but not an emerald shade of green like Verdi’s scales. This dragon was the dark green of the forest. Larger than the other three, the dragon had an unusually long spike on top of the head.
An elder, he realized, watching with interest.
He had long guessed that a dragon clan or “gathering” was living in the mountain. A gathering was a large group of dragons, perhaps several families, who lived in close proximity to each other. He had kept a watch for other dragons, perhaps out hunting or cooling off in the lake. He had not seen the others in the gathering, and he guessed that after the arrival of the humans, they had confined their hunting to the opposite side of the island.
Stephano was careful not to move, for dragons had excellent eyesight. He kept beneath the balloon, hoping the dragon couldn’t see him. He wanted to see what the elder dragon was going to do.
The dragon circled the boat a few times, appearing to study it, though to what end Stephano could not decide. Perhaps nothing more than the chance to view the humans and their contrivance that had so fascinated the dragon young.
The elder dragon made several passes, then winged back toward the mountain.
When the dragon was gone, Stephano shrugged. “As Rigo would say, ‘Very odd.’”
He decided not to mention the visit to the others. They had enough to worry about.
* * *
At first light, Miri announced she was ready to finish filling the balloon. She slowly added more lift gas, expanding the balloon and allowing Gythe time to make adjustments to the ropes. During the process, Gythe kept an ear cocked, listening for any leaks. Stephano and Dag checked the mooring points where the ropes were tied to the hull. When Miri was satisfied that everything was secure, she completed filling the balloon using the last of the gas.
Rodrigo checked the bridging constructs one last time, and then Miri took her place at the helm and began channeling magical energy through the constructs set in the brass panel. The magic traveled along the cables of braided leather to the constructs inside the balloon. The energy arced through the gas, increasing its natural buoyancy. They all held their breath. The magic flowed unimpeded to the balloon.
Slowly, faltering, with a few wobbles and one heart-stopping dip, the Cloud Hopper rose into the air.
No one cheered. They were far too busy. Miri was at the helm, Rodrigo and Gythe were watching the magical constructs, making certain the bridges were working. When Rodrigo rushed over to a cable and began to rapidly draw sigils, Stephano asked tensely what was wrong. Rodrigo only shook his head, too intent upon what he was doing to reply.
As they were drifting up among the trees, the Cloud Hopper began to list. Miri sent Dag and Stephano below to shift the water barrels until the boat was once more sailing on an even keel. They came back on deck, just as the Cloud Hopper cleared the treetops.
“I think we might make it,” said Stephano.
Miri glared at him. “Say your name ten times and then touch wood!”
“Oh, come now—” Stephano began.
“Your full name,” said Miri.
Stephano sighed and recited his full name, Stephano Guilluame de Guichen, ten times and then touched his fingers on the railing.
Miri nodded, satisfied, and went back to keeping an eye on the helm.
Stephano gazed down at the island that had been their enforced home for so many long weeks. The green of the forest contrasted with the gray rock of the mountain. The Breath was orangish pink this morning, twining about the island’s base so that the island seemed to be floating on a sea of roiling mist.
“A beautiful place,” Dag remarked.
“And one I hope I never see again,” Stephano said.
“Except to retrieve the cannons,” said Dag. He suddenly stiffened. “You see that, sir?”
Stephano grabbed the spyglass from the helm.
“What is it?” Miri called nervously. “What’s out there?”
“Dragons,” said Stephano. “Three dragons. Looks like our three dragons.”
“Are they going to attack us?” Dag asked.
“I don’t think so,” said Stephano. “They appear to be keeping their distance.”
“Maybe they’re here to make certain we’re leaving their island,” said Dag.
“Maybe,” said Stephano, unconvinced. “Although that must be obvious by now.”
As the Cloud Hopper sailed deeper into the Breath, the mists swirled and they lost sight of the island and the dragons. The day passed, hot and tense. Miri told them to pray for a favorable breeze, to help push the boat toward Rosia. God must not have been listening, for a breeze did not come. The sails flapped uselessly.
Miri stayed at the helm, nursing the boat along. When she needed to rest, Gythe replaced her. When Rodrigo needed Gythe to help with the magic, which was working in fits and starts, Dag replaced Gythe at the helm. Miri set the boat on a course that would take them in a south-southeasterly direction toward Rosia. She had figured from her calculations that they were about five days away from the continent, taking into account that they were sailing into a headwind. Five long, long days and longer nights for they would be forced to sail after dark.
Night sailing was treacherous. Large chunks of rock that broke off from the islands or the continents drifted about the Breath posing a hazard to ships. Crashing into one of those during the night could end their voyage in a hurry.
The twilight mists were a glorious red color, deepening to purple. The Cloud Hopper was sailing over the last of the islands known as the Chain of Pearls. Once they left those behind, they would be entering the vast empty expanse of the Breath.
Gythe took over the helm while Miri prepared the meager meal. Rodrigo sat in a chair, yawning. Dag played with the Doctor to prevent him from going to the galley to pester Miri for food.
Stephano was keeping watch, and just before the sun sank, the mists cleared and again he saw the three dragons.
He blinked, startled, and rubbed his eyes that ached from the long day spent scanning the skies through the spyglass. He thought perhaps he was seeing things, but when he looked back, the dragons were still there. Viola flew in front, taking the lead, the two males flanking her. He watched the d
ragons for long moments, not saying anything. Then he snapped the spyglass shut, and took his seat at the table.
Miri came on deck carrying a loaf of bread, a round of cheese, and dried rabbit. She set the food on the table. Telling Gythe to eat, Miri took over the helm.
“The dragons are back,” Stephano announced, tearing off a hunk of bread.
The others stared at him in astonishment.
“What are they doing?” Miri asked.
Stephano shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I think they may be following us.”
“Like a stray dog?” Rodrigo suggested. “Three dragons tied up in the backyard. Going to be hard to explain to the neighbors.”
Stephano smiled at the thought. They ate in strained silence. Dag fed the Doctor a portion of his rabbit. Gythe took her sister some food. Miri shook her head.
“I’m not hungry.”
The Cloud Hopper sailed over the islands, indistinguishable one from another. They flew over thick forests, low hills, open fields, and meadows. As darkness closed in around them, Gythe lit the lantern that hung over the helm. The moon was half full, sailing on a sea of silvery mist. Stephano watched an island slip away beneath the boat and when the island had disappeared, he could see nothing except darkness.
“We are sailing into the Breath,” said Miri. “Five days…”
Everyone looked up at the balloon tinged with moonlight.
God’s Breath, carrying them home.
8
Constructs designed to have a healing effect on the human body have always had limited success. Despite years of intense study by devoted church scholars, crafters have been unable to replicate the medicines used by Trundler healers. It is therefore unfortunate, in my opinion, that some of my fellow practitioners continue in the outmoded view that Trundler medicines are heathen witchcraft.
—Dr. Martine Juvalanet, Physician to the King
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