by Kate Diamond
That sounded incredibly harsh to Miris’s ears, but ney did not protest Daslin’s decision. It was not nir place, and ney knew he would not listen if ney did.
“Come,” he commanded nem. Ney did not need to ask where they were going.
The ritual site looked so different in daylight, more different than Miris had expected. Seres greeted them when they emerged into the open air. Greeted Miris, at least. The spirit was still somewhat wary of Daslin.
Daslin approached the pillars and again shouted something into the sky before beginning his song. This song, though, was nothing like the Calling. Harsh and pleading by turns, it told a story Miris could not follow and begged for something ney could not give. And then it was over. Daslin stepped back, turned to Miris, gave a single nod. It was time.
Miris took a breath, closed nir eyes, and turned all nir focus to the Windscript glyphs on nir arms, hoping the spirit would understand nir meaning, and that the other Winds would listen. Seres floated in the air before nem for a long while, then drifted away down the mountain, giving Miris no signal as to the spirit’s intent.
Ney waited, and waited. Daslin said nothing, gave no sign of impatience or doubt or trust. And then the sign for storm heated almost to burning on nir shoulder and what seemed like all the Winds of the sky descended on them in one massive tempest. For a long, long time, the world narrowed to only the roaring in nir ears. The air blurred - ney could not tell one Wind from another, nor hope to find Seres in the storm.
With a tremendous sound like the world coming apart, the stone pillars toppled one by one and shattered against each other until all that remained were ruins, fragments of Starscript that could never be repaired. The Winds gusted away as quickly as they’d come, leaving silence in their wake, until only Seres remained. It was done. No Callings would be ever sung here again, and no Stars would be captured. The clan would endure Harsa’s betrayal alone.
Daslin bowed to Miris and waved nem towards the entranceway. Ney turned back a few paces down the corridor when ney realized Daslin wasn’t following. A moment’s glance, and then ney continued on alone, while behind nem the old priest knelt before the shattered monuments and wept.
Ney rejoined Belest and Vessirn in the hearth-chamber. Nir solemn nod told them everything they needed to know. As much as ney would have wanted to see this through to the end, it was no longer nir place to do so. Vessirn and Daslin and their allies could track down the last parts of Harsa’s trail far easier than ney could. It was only right that they resolved it, for it was their ritual and their clan that had been harmed. But there was something left for nem, a duty to both the clan and the Stars. And that was to go to Hart’s Peak and tell all the fliers of the land of the trade in captured Stars that Harsa had created. Ney need not speak of the ritual, or of Harsa himself, only tell nir fellows what they needed to know to recognize and free the Stars. And Seres could tell the Winds, those with cloudships and those who roamed the wilds. The traders could not hope to hide with watchful spirits searching every corner of the world.
But first, they needed the Dragonfly.
Vessirn sent a carpenter to accompany them back around the mountain and assist in mending the cloudship. Miris never worked out exactly what power she held within the clan, only that when she commanded, she was obeyed. Their companion, a pale-furred young man named Breyes, was a quiet and stern sort, who spoke little and smiled less, though he never gave Miris cause to suspect he found the work tiresome. Nir impression was far more that he found it very important indeed, something to treat with respect and severity. Miris wondered guiltily if the former was how ney had appeared to Belest those first few days. Days that seemed so long ago now.
After all they had endured, the two-day journey back should have been easy, even relaxing. Yet Miris found it tedious, and aggravating, and despite Seres’s reassurances ney feared every minute that they would arrive to find the Dragonfly ravaged by curious beasts or opportunistic travelers or angry spirits. That fear melted away as soon as they came within sight of the valley. The Dragonfly lay where it had fallen, mercifully undisturbed. A light dusting of snow covered the deck and gathered in the swell of the sail; Seres brushed it away with a single gust. The inside of the ship was no less of a mess, and not so easily cleaned. The water barrel had frozen and burst its bands, spilling its contents across the floor in a pool that had rapidly frozen into a slick of ice. Most of the trade goods had survived unscathed, at least. Miris surprised nemself with how little that meant to nem. After all they had seen, all ney wanted now was for nir ship to be whole again, to fly with Seres, to know the Stars were safe.
Breyes grunted something, pulled his bag from his back, and set to work. While Miris and Belest cleaned the hold and repaired snapped cables, he replaced the water barrel, patched the hull, and with Seres’s help, splinted and bound the mast. It was ugly and would not hold for more than a few days, but it was the most they could do, and it would keep the cloudship stable long enough to get them to Kassi Waypoint. After that, the shipwrights could finish the job.
Somewhere in between checking ropes and tidying all the things that had been thrown from their places, ney found a perfect gift for Breyes: a finely-crafted knife, beautiful and useful both, with a strong, sharp blade and a handle set with angular designs in red, dark, and pale wood. He accepted it with a polite bow and a rare smile, along with the cup of tea Belest offered.
Breyes packed away his tools and departed soon after, leaving them with a few words of thanks. Miris ran nir hand down the mast. If ney did not look up, ney could pretend the cracks were not there, but ney didn’t want to. A good flier needed to keep their ship in mind at all times, or risk unnoticed damage growing into something far more serious.
That had been more than enough waiting. Miris signaled to Seres to take them aloft, and held nir breath as the Wind blew the stitched sail taut. By some miracle, it held. They lifted into the air, carefully, cautiously. Miris thought ney could feel all the myriad instabilities in the ship, each threatening to drag them from the sky, but those fears proved unfounded.
Ney stood on the deck and watched the clouds drift past. Seres danced through the air around them, glad to fly again at last. Ney felt the same. Nir heart lightened at every ship-length they put between themselves and the cold peak where Harsa had hunted Stars. Safe at last, they flew onwards, onwards towards Kassi Waypoint and familiar lands.
A Ship Towards Home
The air grew steadily warmer as they descended from the mountain heights, until at last Miris was able to shed nir heavy coat and once again feel the sun on nir skin. There was so much to do: ney needed to update the ledgers, plan for what markets to visit now ney was so far from nir original course. But that could wait. They would have time aplenty at Kassi while they waited for the many repairs the cloudship needed.
They flew all the rest of that day and stayed aloft for the night. Seres did not try to push them onwards, for which Miris was grateful, despite the delay. Most of the food they had taken on at Vanna had survived, and once thawed, was entirely serviceable. And if the bread they wrapped their pickled vegetables and meat in was a little tough, neither complained. Things would be normal again before long. Miris thought ahead to days of quiet, peaceful flight, free of the fears and clamor they had endured chasing Harsa’s trail.
Ney rose the next morning to warm air and bright sun. Spring as Miris knew it, not the wan and cold thing they had trudged through in the mountains. Ney stood at the rail with nir tea and watched the green land pass below. Belest joined nem after rinsing the breakfast dishes.
“I think you’ll like Kassi,” Miris told him. “The architecture is incredible. It’s designed for cloudships and Winds. All open spaces and bridges and towers. I’m sure there’s all sorts of clever things in the construction.”
“That sounds like Tilsa,” Belest mused.
“No, it’s nothing like that. Tilsa is too crowded and tight. Kassi… it’s beautiful. Well, I think it’s beautiful. My fri
end Arani once told me she thinks it looks like a termite mound. She’s Forish, so I suppose next to that next to Vanna’s spire it might look rough, but…” Ney shrugged.
“There’s so many incredible places in the world that I’ve never even heard of,” Belest said. “It’s like Kirental said. There’s far too much in the world for one person to know it all. I like that.”
“So do I.”
They reached Kassi shortly after noon. A handful of cloudships awaited them at the waypoint’s docks, three Arlanan and two Forish. Ney recognized the names. Friends, all of them.
This was one of the oldest waypoints in the land, and possibly in the world. Some claimed that it was indeed the oldest, and had been built by the apprentices of Kinit fin-Linra himself. Despite fliers’ well-earned reputation for meticulous record-keeping, over the centuries many of those histories had been lost to time.
The interior had been all but rebuilt many times, to suit changing eras and senses of style, but the essential structure remained the same. From the top of a plateau rose five towers of tan stone, spiraling shortest to tallest. Bridges linked the levels, stone arches on the lower levels, rope and wood on the upper. Privately, ney could admit that Arani might be right in her comparison. But ney liked Kassi, liked the swaying bridges and the great windows open to the Winds.
Seres eased the damaged cloudship into a dock on the middle tower. Once they were settled, a servant came out to take their report and lead them to the fliers’ quarters. That had startled Miris, back when ney had first visited the waypoint with Pira, years ago. Unlike most of the rest of the continent, Trineta did not hold with the keeping of servants, believing instead that one’s life and possessions should not extend beyond their ability to manage them.
“Oh! What’s happened?” the young woman exclaimed, scrambling down a ladder to get a better look at the gash in the Dragonfly’s side, heedless of the fact that she dangled over open space and her kerchief nearly fluttered away in the wind. Her name was Rina, Miris thought, or Rilla. Arden would have known instantly.
“Too long a story to tell now,” ney said. “We were in the mountains, and the Winds there…”
“Objected.” Rina or Rilla nodded, a sage expression on her face that Miris thought more suited to a much older person. “I’ve seen it before. Well!” She looked to where Seres wheeled in the sky over the dock, greeting the other Winds. “You did a good job of keeping nem safe, I’ll give you that!” she called into the sky. Seres breezed past her in response, pulling the kerchief from her head and ruffling her golden hair.
“Give me that!” she scolded, snatching the cloth back. She pulled herself back up to the deck. “I’d say that’s at least a week of repairs, but I might be able to get Tobin on it if he’s done with-”
“Rilla!” a voice called from a window above them. A woman with wild red hair stuck her head out to look at them. “Is that Miris?”
“Ziya!” Miris waved up to her and got a huge grin in response.
“Wait, I’ll come down there.”
Barely a minute later, Ziya leapt down the steps and onto the deck, her shawl flying behind her.
“Your sail!” she cried, looking at the tears, still painfully obvious even after all the care Miris and Breyes had taken in patching them. “You have to tell me everything!” she insisted. She turned to Belest. “And this is-”
“Belest. A friend,” Miris said, forestalling any theorizing. Ziyaset was an irrepressible gossip, and if she got the idea that Miris had taken an apprentice, it would be all over Kassi by nightfall.
“I’m having dinner with Tad and Wiras tonight,” Ziya said. “You should join us. Bring Belest. And you too, Rilla! At sunset in the northwest dining room. I’ve asked Soran to make those potato puff things, the ones with the green sauce.”
Rilla laughed. “Hold on a minute, Ziya. I need to get nem in a room first!”
“Don’t worry, I can take it from here, Rilla. The one that Ayen was in?”
“Yes, that’ll be perfect.”
“Good. And I’ll stop by Halasi’s office to get it all logged too, so you don’t need to trouble with that either. I know how he gets when things aren’t all in order.” She motioned to the Dragonfly. “You spend your time on getting that fixed. How did you manage to do all that, Miris?”
“We were chasing smugglers, and-”
“Smugglers! What a story that must be. You’ll have to tell us all tonight.”
As much as Ziya had a flair for the dramatic and delighted in exciting tales, she felt deeply, and Miris regretted already how the story of the Stars’ betrayal and imprisonment would distress her. It could wait. In any case, Ziya didn’t give Miris much space to talk as she led them over the bridges to their room.
Like all the fliers’ quarters at Kassi, this was a suite of bright and airy rooms, the central space edged by a wide balcony open to the air, allowing the Winds to share the space. A staircase spiraled up a central pillar to a half-floor loft above and a well-appointed bedroom.
“I’ll leave you to get settled,” Ziya said. She stuck her head back through the doorway only a moment later. “Tonight, remember!”
“I will, don’t worry!” Miris called, laughing.
Seres drifted in through the open window, setting the curtains fluttering. Miris stepped out onto the balcony and into the sunlight. Belest followed, looking curiously around him.
“What do you do when it rains?” he asked, peering up to the balcony above them, jutting off the tower in a different direction so that it didn’t shade theirs.
“They can pull canopies over the balconies and bridges, but usually the Winds will keep the rain off. And there’s enough sun here that it dries fairly quickly if it does get wet.”
One of the cook’s servants came by to ask what Belest wanted for dinner. Tobin arrived a few hours later with a report on the Dragonfly’s condition. The cloudship needed perhaps a week of repairs, more if other ships arrived in the meantime. Miris accepted it without protest. The damage could have easily been much worse. Ney trusted Tobin to do what was needed as quickly and as well as he could.
Dinner at Kassi was, as it ever had been, a splendid thing. Bits of colored glass hung from the dining room’s arched ceiling on strings, catching the lamplight and throwing it across the room in glittering fragments of color.
The other fliers were waiting for them when they entered. Rilla hurried in a few minutes later, having exchanged her work outfit for a blue and white dress. Miris introduced them all to Belest: there was Wiras, a quiet Forish man with a great mane of dark hair and horns tipped with gold ornaments, and Tad, a young human third from the eastern shore, jeweled pins in nir hair drawing attention away from one clouded blind eye.
The waypoint’s cooks knew every flier’s favorite foods and always prepared them perfectly. For Wiras, a dish of roasted squash and nuts. Tad, stuffed sausages and long green beans. Ziya, the potato puffs she had mentioned, and a whole fried fish almost invisible under a blanket of spicy sauce and garlic. Miris’s plate was also fish - large flaky chunks of it cooked in a sweet sauce. Rilla had some sort of thick noodles, and Belest roast meat and potatoes speckled with pepper.
All of them had stories to tell. Wiras, a scholar of the natural world, had just returned from the Brothers Islands, the only points of land between the east coast of Arlana and Irenset’s western shore. In a few months, he planned to fly to the Broken Lands past the northern mountains.
“The last Forish writings I’ve seen on the matter mention the strange structures there, but go no further,” he said. “And those are near fifty years old. I want to see for myself.”
“And return with a dozen journals’ worth of research to publish, making some typesetter very unhappy,” Tad teased.
“And some researchers very happy indeed,” Wiras defended himself, gesturing with his fork.
Tad, like Arden, was a healer. Ney told them of a midwife ney had met who took her talent from town to town, charging nothing a
nd supplying her patients with medicines better than those the local herbalists could provide. Ziya, an author, spoke of a weaving festival in Gashen, and of how her Wind had danced through the quilts and ribbons, frightening the sheep but delighting the artists.
In light of all that cheer, Miris did not want to tell them what ney had seen, but ney could not shy away from the necessity of it. Ney kept the tale short and did not speak Harsa’s name. He did not deserve fame for what he had done.
“And Seres recognized the Stars?” Ziya asked. “I think my Shiele would too.”
“I will watch with all my effort,” Wiras promised. “It is a terrible thing.”
The meal ended quieter than it had begun, but even Miris’s dark news could not completely dampen their spirits. Ziya led them in a night of games, and soon enough all six of them were laughing again. It was well after midnight when they returned to their rooms, but the company had been well worth the lost sleep.
The next morning, Miris was surprised to find a mail-carrier’s assistant at nir door, holding out a letter marked with Pirren’s seal. And beside it, the personal crest of the Rebas family.
“From Governor Dalen?”
The assistant nodded. “He told us to deliver it personally.”
And there was no doubt what this letter was about. Miris had not expected to hear word on Belest’s situation. Fliers typically kept themselves out of politics, and this was a matter than the Ansets were no doubt working to keep quiet.
As Belest watched, Miris broke the seal and unfolded the slightly-smudged paper. This was no secretary’s hand - this was from Dalen’s own desk. Ney scanned the words in disbelief.
“It’s an apology.”
“What? How?”
“He says he heard from Tiran two days after we left. And-” Ney read the next passage three times over, trying to find where ney was mistaken.