I stepped forward, focused on my two. A swift backhand with my makeshift club, and the brute was out cold. Tall and lanky dropped him to the ground, raising the knife up. “You might need this!” I said, friendly as could be to a third man sneaking up on Volant. I tossed my chair leg high above his head. The man instinctively looked up to catch it.
Abandoning tall and lanky, I took two powerful steps and leaped feet first. I connected beautifully with the man still staring at the sky, sending him into a group of people who had gathered to watch in a corner. As I got to my knees, Volant was in a straight boxing match with the brass knuckled thug.
I crawled behind the man and Volant feinted at him. When he tried to step back, I rolled into his knees. With a surprised yelp, the man tripped over me and clipped his head on a table.
Rook could be seen dodging back and forth in his corner as some poor soul tried to land a punch on him. Guess he wouldn’t be coming to our rescue from tall and lanky and his knife. The man swung his hook about violently. No rhyme or reason. Just wild fury. A terrifyingly fast combo of punches, and Rook had the man seeing stars. He’d probably not be up for a while.
Volant caught an overhanded slash on the wooden leg he’d grabbed. They broke apart both panting a bit. With a magnanimous smile, he gestured quite rudely to the man with the knife. All around us, other patrons were fighting each other in a massive free for all. Seems we had inspired some much-needed release for the room. Fists flew and people groaned. The room had definitely taken an enthusiastic ownership of the fight and its unadulterated energy was palpable. A previously uninvolved patron tackled Volant. This left just me to dance with tall and lanky.
His knife flashed out at my head, and I ducked under it, throwing a quick series of punches into his ribs before a solid open-handed slap into his face. To his credit, he recovered from the whirlwind attack and stabbed out again.
Using Rook’s fist and palm boxing style, I stepped past his thrust and locked onto his wrist with my open hand. With unreserved hostility, I landed punch after punch into the man’s ribs until his knife arm went limp in mine. I barely even noticed the throbbing in my hand I was breathing so hard. However, the burning line from his knife scraping my abdomen definitely hurt like a sea demon.
Rook was suddenly there, pushing me towards the back exit. The rain had stopped, leaving sweet petrichor in the storm’s wake. It was bliss when paired with the fading adrenaline. I touched my side, and came away with blood on my hand. Pain bit into my side with each step and heartbeat. Nothing unbearable, but quite uncomfortable. I followed Rook and Volant, now in front of me as we crossed the squishy earth and entered the barn.
Volant lit the lantern, and we all examined each other. Rook had walked away from the scuffle without a scratch. Volant had some good bruises, but otherwise fine. My cut was long and shallow, and we quickly bandaged it up while Rook found the horses.
“What an excellent night to make a quick getaway and skip sleeping,” Rook said as we mounted up.
“How do you guys feel?” I asked. “Because I’m pretty sure I can ride all night!” I grinned at them both, and they returned it.
Our horses plodded on slowly, not sharing our enthusiasm. The stolen moon reflecting against the wet road and bathing the night in a surreal glow. We carried on into the night, and well into the morning, though the feeling of boundless energy faded far quicker than I’d have expected. As the sun rose, the last of my adrenaline was drained away and I felt ready for a year long nap.
Instead, Rook insisted we eat while riding, continuing to put more distance between us and a rightfully upset innkeeper. We stopped early in the evening at another landing. I was out cold as soon as the horses were rubbed down.
When I woke the next morning after we finally made camp, my side throbbed with such an intense pain I thought I was dying. Despite the rather cool weather, I was covered in sweat. “Volant,” I croaked out.
He sat up and looked at me with sleepy confusion. “What is it Nil?” he half yawned.
I sat up, and pain shot through me. The cut on my side was on fire. Clearing my throat, I tried to speak again. “I think there’s something wrong.” With that, everything went dark, and I spiraled down into feverish dreams.
Thirteen
When I came to, I was no longer on the side of a road. Volant was examining the cut on my side, and there was a weird roof over our heads. An intense, overwhelming thirst hit me as I started to orient myself.
I had barely tried to open my mouth before a water skin had been handed off by a plump, grandmotherly woman. I sucked down every drop of liquid before paying attention to anything else. The hammock’s motion was the first sensation to be felt once the thirst was quenched.
“You lazy sack of tree garbage,” Volant said with genuine warmth and tears in his eyes.
Confused, I blinked at him.
He let out a deep sigh of relief. “You had us worried for a bit there, Nil. Johanna said that if you woke up, you would be fine. Otherwise, you were cooked and we might as well toss you off the ship.” He laughed again, and hugged the old woman when she cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m paraphrasing of course. But the important thing is you woke up, so you’ll be alright.”
“Ship?” I asked, my voice still as hoarse as my head was fogged. Everything was made of some pale wood that looked odd for a house. Walls and ceiling came into focus as I looked around. It was curved like a boat. Where the hell had they found a ship on the turtle castle road?
The woman had been busy mixing something in a small cup, and now turned with it in an outstretched hand to me.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, sipping the bitter drink. A fog that seemed to be slowing my thoughts immediately lifted from my mind, hailing a return of rather intense pain and a host of questions. “Where am I? What happened?” When I attempted to turn far enough to see the cut, I nearly fell out of the hammock. Volant gently prevented it.
“That wound you got,” he said slowly, “nearly did you in. Honestly, I didn’t think you would make it. Between some supplies that Johanna had, and some help on Rook’s part, you lived. Actually, Johanna’s expertise contributed quite a lot in keeping you intact, Rook just had some handy tips.” Again, he paused for a moment, looking at a loss of words. “He had glung fruit on his blade. Probably was an addict.”
That made my blood run cold. Glung fruit was a small white plant. Though pretty, it also had the side effect of shattering your mind into a thousand pieces. Some people find it invigorating. Being able to have entire discussions with yourself, or attack a puzzle from multiple angles. It was also enormously addictive on top of everything. In nature’s cruel attempt to make it even more dangerous, the plant tasted incredible, supposedly. Oh, and the withdrawal could actually kill you.
“I didn’t hallucinate?” My mind was racing now.
Johanna spoke up this time. “It’s partly because it hit your bloodstream directly, and partly because the infection was outrageously fast.”
I nodded, filing the fact away. It didn’t help the fear though.
“On the plus side, not ingesting it means you only have a physical withdrawal. Nothing is wrong with your mind.” Volant said. He managed a smile. “And, Johanna has been giving you a special concoction that should lessen the lingering effects. Plus, the infection is practically healed up. You will be good as new in no time!” He gave me an encouraging pat.
While processing this, Johanna handed me a bag. “There are six bottles in there, numbered accordingly. Drink one a day, starting with number one. They’re micro-doses of glung fruit. Small enough that you won’t experience anything more than some light headed side effects, but it’ll keep the withdrawal to manageable levels.” She took in both Volant and I with serious eyes. “Not to be overly dramatic, but you must follow these instructions. Otherwise, the withdrawal could kill you.”
Volant and I exchanged concerned looks, and then nodded to Johanna.
“So, where are we?” I asked. The room see
med to be swaying ever so slightly, though it was hard to tell if this was due to my state or not.
Volant’s look of excitement told me everything. “Wydvis! On one of the airships!” He could barely contain his excitement. It was good to see him so full of warmth after being so dark after Kalaran and the assassin in Tryst.
“And Rook?” I felt myself drifting inexorably back to sleep. Johanna noticed, and bustled over a bowl of soup. I sucked it down quickly.
“He had to leave.” Volant almost looked embarrassed. “Rook seemed to be sure you would recover, and wanted you to know he would be seeing us soon. Once the infection stopped spreading, he headed back out to the west. I think he was going to the Mistlands to investigate the story we heard from those questers.”
“Interesting.” My eyes were already shut, the warm soup bringing me even closer to fuzzy unconsciousness. Rook definitely marched to a different drum. Of course he left. And then before I could think of anything else, everything went black and I was asleep again.
I stayed with Johanna for another two days, suffering through the worst parts of the addictive glung fruit working its way out of my system. On the third day, I swallowed my first bite of solid food without getting sick. “This is delicious!” I said enthusiastically, with Johanna smiling proudly across from me. The pie looking dish was made of some large bird that was considered a specialty of Wydvis.
“It’s call mooshi. We steam it by wrapping the whole thing in sweet leaves like a sack, and then filling it with all kinds of spices, and then hanging it over one of the many hot springs that hide about the mountain range. The ‘pie’ bit is actually just a thin layer of sweet bread. Once the mooshi was steamed long enough, it would be dropped onto a sheet of dough, and folded in. Then the whole pie would be baked and eaten.” Johanna smiled, eating a bit herself.
I smiled back. “This is probably my new favorite food.”
Johanna ate with me, the pie being quite large. The sweet old woman had earned a place in my heart for just the meal. She had made that spot permanent with the unwavering care given over the past few days.
She told stories and found me books to read, and made the most delicious variety of soups. Volant was there most days, but he was far too full of life to be stuck with his bedridden friend at all hours of the day when he was home for the first time in so long. Suffice to say, Johanna was an amazing woman. A better grandma than any real grandmother could ever be.
“I’m ready to try going outside,” I said. We had tried the night before after I’d taken my third micro-dose. I’d barely taken two steps before Volant had to help me back to the hammock. But today would be different. I felt much better, and I had a weeks’ worth of rest asking to be spent, plus some solid and seriously delicious food in me.
Johanna looked thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded towards the bag. Four of the bottles were left. “First your medicine, and then we can try to head out.”
I took the bottle out with the four on it, struck with the fact that if it wasn’t for some seriously good math on her part, I’d probably be dead or addicted to that evil fruit. As I realized that, I was suddenly ashamed.
I’d always assumed an above average intelligence meant a certain lack of kindness in a person. Empathy and erudition seemed incompatible in most of the academics I’d met. If a person was truly kind, they were also usually dumb I’d assumed. But here was proof that someone was both. Johanna had offered her residence to house me, in secret, while helping heal me up. Along with it, she had proven herself to be uncommonly clever.
She spoke a language she made up herself and had taught me some basics, a feat in itself. Her medicine was on par with anything you’d find anywhere, and the math to get a gradually lessening dose like she had was way beyond me. She was also the nicest person I’d ever met. All in all, the woman had changed my perspective drastically, and in less than a week. It was a shift I certainly needed.
I walked to the door, feeling my confidence return after each step. “After you, Johanna,” I said happily.
She smiled as I opened the door, and hobbled up the stairs onto the ships deck.
Morning sun beamed down on my face. Wood creaked as we walked across the specially woven lattice work that made airships incredibly light. A few people moved about around us on gangways. They were all tan with the stark white hair Volant himself had. A cool breeze wafted about, though no one seemed to mind the chill.
Johanna stopped and touched my elbow. “Would you like to meet Volant’s family? They got back just today.” Without waiting for an answer, she began walking.
Ships bobbed about in every direction, each covered in as much rope as they were in wood. As we headed down a wooden ramp that led to another ship that was floating a little way away from the one Johanna called home, I saw clouds gently moving below and experienced an acute moment of vertigo. We were up high.
The top of a mast appeared briefly, moving south. It dipped back down before I could see the rest of the ship. Ropes entrapped dozens of balloons per craft. The balloon skins were a patch work of thick, heavy handed stitches. The secret of what kept these ships aloft was well guarded, even from most of the Wydvis’ population. Many assumed dozens of wind Naturals were kept in the bowels of each ship to maintain their flight.
In truth, Volant had said once that there was a gas, but wouldn’t say anything further. Each ship, when not moving, had an anchor hanging off of either end, or so I’d read once. When I looked down, a strange feeling of freedom blossomed deep within me. I was scared, but exhilarated.
After a walk that felt like a hundred ships later, we stopped at the local marketplace. Birds squawked in cages, vegetables hung from every imaginable surface, a baker sat back eating his own wares, and people tried on every piece of clothing imaginable at a row of merchant shops. There was even a man selling a variety of blades and bows.
The market thrummed with palpable energy, and I was taken in by the smell of freshly baked bread, my stomach still determined to make up for the recent soup diet. The entire platform was held aloft by clusters of the balloon like sacks of gas. Unnerving, to say the least. Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder and whipped me around. I’m going to die, I thought to myself.
Instead of death incarnate, it was Volant’s contagious grin. He then crushed me in a bear hug that caused pain to shoot across my side. A groan escaped me. He immediately let go, a stricken look on his face. “Sorry Nil, I was just so excited to see you up and about.”
Johanna made an odd clucking sound at Volant. She lifted up my shirt to see if the cut had reopened. “No damage here,” she said. “Someone was just being dramatic I think.”
I grinned in embarrassment. “Thank you both again, for taking care of me. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you guys.” I hugged them both, feeling stronger than I had in days.
Behind them, a tallish girl with short, fiery red hair and purple eyes claiming her Brod ancestry strode by. She carried herself with more confidence than any one person had a right to. A long scabbard hung at the side of her hip, slung low with its tip barely riding above the heel of her extravagant boots. Said boots reached up to her knees, followed by black, tight fitting pants. A black shirt followed, sans sleeves.
She was radiant. All my attention was pulled in her wake till she disappeared into the weapon dealer’s stall. I tore my attention back to the moment and focused on my friends.
Volant kept up a steady stream of conversation as he talked about his family excitedly. Johanna was full of gossip herself, having not left Wydvis in quite a while. I listened as closely as possible, but my attention strayed back to the girl with as she came back out of the stall. She waved about the hilt of a broken sword in front of the merchant.
I couldn’t hear what she said, but her face was a thunderstorm of rage. That poor man was in for a rough day. I followed Volant and Johanna over to another ship, losing sight of the girl, and I immediately wished I’d have gone and talked to her. Nothing like the poison
of regret.
Just when I didn’t think my weak legs could take me any further in the unending maze of bobbing airships, we finally arrived. Thran’s leaf was emblazoned on the side of the ship in electric blue and white paint. It was a massive structure, one of the largest ones I had seen so far.
“Here’s my actual home,” Volant said with a broad gesture.
I took in the sight. “Wow,” was the only reply I could muster. I was beyond impressed. The ship had the same lattice work as the others, but designs were engraved in every inch of the thicker pieces of wood that made up the sturdy frame work that all the lattice work attached to.
Unlike a seaworthy ship, the underside was completely flat. Small wings covered the outer surface of the woven together wood frame. Windows were everywhere. The captain’s deck was center stage, raised a fair bit up, and looked like a miniature of the ship’s bow but with an unobstructed view. More ropes than I’d assume possible raised high into the sky, connecting to the network of balloons. Overall, it looked like an artist and a pirate had come together and created the most beautiful and dangerous contraption to exist, with no compromises given in either field.
We took a brief rest and some lunch before actually heading up to the ship. Volant seemed content to sip on some chai and just drink the airship in. I’d rarely seen him this enamored with something that wasn’t a girl or a plant.
Once I’d had my rest well enough to not be an embarrassment on the ship, we went aboard. The rest of the day was a blur of long haired cloudlings, all happily introducing themselves. Nearly all of them carried a large knife or axe. Some of them were Volant’s relatives. Others just friends of the family. Generally, they were some of the nicest people I’d ever met.
Though Volant was an only child, he had dozens of cousins, aunts and uncles, and more family than any one ship could manage. His father had died shortly after Volant was born, leaving him to be raised by his mother and the extended family.
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