Fourteen
We were in the shaded hold with a few cousins, immediately below the main deck, when his mother came in. Taller than anyone else in the family, she had a warm smile but an intimidating bearing. Sinewy muscles showed on her bare arms, and her face was deeply lined from the sun and wind.
“This is the captain, my mother,” Volant said cheerfully.
She stepped forward, arm outstretched to grasp mine. “Welcome aboard, friend of Volant. Just Captain when I’m giving orders. For now, please call me Andreska.” Andreska had been a captain long before Volant was born. His father, Thran, had been her right hand on her first ship, Cloud’s Nest. They had married after years of encouragement from both their families. Shortly after, she became pregnant.
Thran took over a ship run while she was left with a midwife near the end of her pregnancy. While he was out on Cloud’s Nest, a storm hit. It appeared the ship had been struck by lightning, but no one could be positive considering the wreckage was strewn so far and wide. She had raised Volant and ran a newly commissioned ship alone, with the help of a new crew made up almost solely of family.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, after all I have heard.” I shook her hand and was surprised to feel such a strong grip in a woman somewhere in her middle years. Personal paradigm shifts were going to be occurring on a regular basis in Wydvis, it seemed. The introductions continued as more of her crew came in throughout the day, and all the faces began to blur into one mass of smiling people.
We even sat down and played cards for a bit. As the day turned dark, Johanna came to say goodbye. All of our gear had been stowed away on his mother’s ship, so with a final hug, I thanked her profusely, and promised to visit soon. My energy dwindled away and I was led to the main sleeping quarters where a spare hammock waited. Sleep came quickly.
Morning came with loud voices and bright sunlight. The pain was practically gone, and a nice scab was healing over the knife wound. Two bottles left to take and I’d be free of the glung fruit’s hold. Unfortunately, I was drenched in sweat, and couldn’t keep my hands from shaking. I quickly pulled the cork out of number five and swallowed it. A few minutes later, my body calmed and I was ready to find the source of the still shouting voices.
Thran’s leaf, unlike Johanna’s ship, had doors on either end of the stairs to the deck, making it a small hallway. As I opened the second door, I realized why. Wind whipped about, slamming into the first door and rattling its frame. If it wouldn’t have been there, the gust of wind would have cut through the sleeping quarters with furious abandon. Though most ships apparently had the doors facing away from the front end, Thran’s leaf had the larger guest quarters added on years after the ship had been finished and the front was the only place with room.
On deck, it was swarming with people. Men and women were flowing through the sky pirate flow Volant had tried to teach me. Others were gambling, and generally everyone was having a great time.
Giant, wing shaped oars stuck out the sides, flapping in rhythm to the shouting voice and drums I’d heard from the bunk. Six on each side. The rhythm was staggered, with the front two wings going up and then being followed by the second pair as the first reached their zenith. With each peak, another pair would go up, until the last oars were beginning to dip as the first again rose. It looked like an eel slithering through the air.
Hypnotized, I watched the graceful movement of oar-wings as we flew through the air. “Glide!” A voice shouted out from below, the drums immediately silenced. Oars were locked into place, making a single, angled wing on each side to complement the sails all over the ship. Those who had been lounging about packed up what items they had and hustled down stairs.
Out from the ship’s sides came up another group of people, all heavily muscled and sweating profusely. Curiously, they also looked excited. I wandered the deck, feeling the thick ropes lining the side rails, absorbing how the sails were used to steer making minor adjustments all from a central command deck.
Andreska stood on the deck, watching the horizon and consulting a complicated looking instrument made of metal discs and loops. I found Volant on the far back end of the same raised deck, chatting with a man dressed in impractical, flashy clothes. His hair was slicked to the side of his sharply featured face. Paired with an enormous hooked nose and oddly large eyes, he looked like a vulture.
“Good morning, tree lover!” Volant said.
I offered a bow in return, trying not to smile. “And this tree lover’s name is Nil,” I said, turning and offering a hand to the man.
He took my hand delicately. “It’s truly a pleasure!” he said in a raspy voice. “Volant here has told me much about your time at school together. I myself am heading there to speak with some colleagues about rather urgent matters.” He paused, a worried look clouding his face. “Ah, my sincerest apologies, I did not tell you my name, did I?”
I shook my head, amused at the way his hands constantly wrung while he spoke.
“It’s Cralil. At your service,” the man said bowing slightly.
Volant took the chance to jump in. “Don’t let Cralil’s humble attitude fool you, Nil. He’s one of the wealthiest men in all of Balteris. He’s also probably one of the only ones who would actually charter a dozen of the fastest ships in Wydvis to speed him all the way to Kalaran.”
Cralil shrugged, as if unimpressed by himself, and pulled out a small knife. The blade was an exquisite piece of metal attached to an intricately carved bone handle. From another pocket in his cloak, he pulled out a block of wood that looked like a half-finished pipe. He began whittling away at it, his hands finally occupied.
“Are we going all the way back to Kalaran?” I asked, alarm filling my chest.
Volant shot a quick glance at the man. “No, we’re just the first leg of his journey. There’s a much sleeker ship coming up shortly. He’ll board with them, and then we head back to Wydvis.” When Cralil said nothing and continued carving at the pipe, Volant seemed to relax along with me. “Honestly, I didn’t think you would be up in time to meet him. We should find the rendezvous any minute now, hence the glide.”
Cralil looked up from his carving. “True, though if I’d have had my way, this ship would have taken me the full distance. Alas, your mother can’t make it quite quick enough, and I’m terribly pressed for time.”
“Where are you coming from?” I asked.
He made an odd sound, then looked up. “Mmmm, the Western Coast, some call it the Mistlands, though that name is far too misleading for the amazing things going on. Simply amazing. The people working there will be changing the way the world works. Quite soon.” With that, he went silent, focused on the knife as it peeled away small strips of wood from pipe’s bowl.
We left the man, though I was filled with questions. Volant practically skipped down the ship, chatting with everyone who we ran into. It struck me that there was barely a hint of the sadness he’d been carrying since the assassination attempt. Otherwise he was his same old self, full of energy and quick to laugh. Maybe just a little less enthusiastically.
We climbed over ropes, down the sides of the ship, and explored every nook and cranny, until we ended up at a hidden room in the cargo area. Volant said his mom installed it herself, with his help, as a “just in case” precaution. Mostly, he used it as his own personal studio when he was still harboring dreams of being an artist.
As promised, we came to a stop shortly, anchoring to the much smaller ship that would take Cralil onward. We waved to him as he boarded the other vessel with extreme caution. With the wind blowing towards Wydvis, the rowers barely had to work, and we were back in sight of the airborne city before dinner.
“Captain!” Volant yelled up to his mother.
“Yes?” She was up a deck higher than us, wearing only the one sword today. Many of the sailors had small axes tucked into their belts, but only she carried a true sword while they were airborne.
“I am going to take Nil to one of the springs. He smells
like a ten-year-old pile of dung.” He nudged me, and I rolled my eyes. It had been quite a while since I last was thoroughly clean. “Also,” he said, “I was hoping to teach him how to dive, with your permission?”
This, she rolled her eyes at, but nodded. “He’s your friend. You get him killed, it’s your problem.” She turned back to the wheel, dismissing us.
My adrenaline craving friend clapped his hands together excitedly. “You’re going to love this!” He rushed us off down into the hold again, going to a metal cage in a dark corner. Within it, much smaller versions of the balloons holding the ship up floated against the ceiling. They were tied off in pairs and triplets, attached to odd looking harnesses. He grabbed one of the sets. Beckoning me into the cage with him, I realized what we were about to do.
“You’re mad!” I did not like the knot of fear twisting itself up in my stomach. Not one bit.
He said nothing in return, knowing I was going to do whatever he did. Straps were tied across my legs and chest, tightly, thank the gods. He strapped himself into a different harness and grinned. Dangling off the side of each leg was a long piece of rope with a little weight at the end. I eyed it, but my mouth was too dry to ask any questions.
We were back on the deck before I knew it, and the knot was hard and tight by now. Andreska called out to Volant, stopping his onward rush to the unprotected backside of the ship. “While you are down there, we are low on supplies.” She tossed a paper wrapped rock to him. “Pick up what you can before you come back.”
He shoved the rock in his pocket, and winked at me. “You ready for the time of your life, Nil?” Without a backwards glance, he began to bound forward. Each step defied gravity, taking an eternity to come back down with the harness giving him buoyancy. And then, with a heart stopping leap, he floated through the air before disappearing overboard.
Having no choice, I followed after him, feeling the weightlessness the harness gave me with each step. I jumped and shut my eyes, ready to die. Wind rushed past my face, and an old saying came to mind. Your death will only ever belong to you. Greet it with your eyes open and your heart ready.
When I opened my eyes, Thran’s leaf floated high above me, but I wasn’t actually falling too fast. Below, Volant’s balloons could be seen floating down toward the ground. We were unbelievably high up, and a slight sense of vertigo hit me. Oddly enough, the knot in my stomach had unwound itself at the rush of adrenaline so it was a mixed bag of feelings.
The ground still seemed to approach rather quickly. I doubted it would be the softest of landings. What had looked like small clouds below turned out to be the hot springs covered in layers of steam as we approached. Various colors flashed in between patches of the steam. Milky blues, reds, yellows, and oranges, plus mixes of each dotted the mountain side. Each hot spring seemed to be different in some way or another. Some were quite large I realized as we came closer. Surrounding each spring were vibrant swaths of vegetation.
Volant landed on the top of a tree like a god spawned ninja, momentarily disappearing from view in drifting steam.
That’s when I realized I was a short distance away from a less graceful but similar landing, and had no way to steer. The knot of fear came back with a vengeance as pointy branches reached up towards me.
A gust of wind blew the steam away. Defying nature and gravity, Volant was balancing on the tree top. When he saw me, he waved and then jumped off, floating towards the ground, kicking off of the various limbs until he landed. Again, he disappeared into the steam and I was left to my impending impalement on the mountain’s forestry.
I hit the tree, though the impact was incredibly lessened by the balloon contraption. Not seeing much else to do, I kicked off the branch toward the water. The jump only took me over a few trees till I landed in another. Again, I jumped, and floated down, bouncing bodily off each tree in turn until it seemed I’d bruised every bit of me.
Volant was watching in amusement as I stumbled clumsily down to the ground. As I was in mid jump, I felt the unmistakable push of Volant’s Talent. Wind moved me up and out, and I practically glided over the remaining shrubbery until I was above a large hot spring. It looked far too warm to be landing in.
I twisted and kicked, but to no avail. Before I splashed into the red and yellow boiling water, a spiral of wind punched me in the chest. I was flung backwards and away from the water. My toes drew twin waves in the steam as I flew backwards. Water became earth, and my feet skidded against the ground. The wind died away, and I sat down on the flat rock with a relieved groan.
“And he survives!” Volant’s laughter escaping uncontrollably. He reached out an arm, helping me up.
“That was a rush,” I replied, heart beating a hundred times faster than normal. I looked around, and saw that the area around the spring had been cleared of trees, and instead had a variety of wooden walkways bordered with stone going in every direction. Benches surrounded the beautiful pools, spaced discretely about the clearing. A single ring of painted red stones went around a few of the edges. An obvious warning against entering some of the too warm hot springs.
Volant took in an enormous breath, and then let out an even bigger sigh.. “That’s the smell of relaxation,” he said. Eyes closed, he took in another deep inhale, and breathed out blissfully.
I sniffed the air, and was struck with a strong sulfuric smell. Though not quite rotten eggs, it was certainly close. “Warning rocks?” I asked instead of commenting on his broken sense of smell.
“Those are indeed! That’s the boil-you-alive water.” He grinned wider when I took a further step back. “Follow me! And don’t take your fallpack off until I show you how” he said gesturing at the balloon harness.
With that, we headed down what could loosely be construed as a path winding its way through hot springs and trees alike. We bounced along with fallpack assistance, making a leisurely walk impossible. Slowly, I acclimated to the rotten egg smell of the hot springs to the point I didn’t notice it anymore.
Steam could be seen rising off in different directions from the path, as if we were still up in the clouds. Dozens of new pathways would split off in different directions, all blocked from view by trees or steam, and I wondered how much effort had gone into making and maintaining the place. We ended up in an enormous clearing ringed by trees. Directly opposite of us, a massive hole in sheer black stone spewed forth steam and water.
Between the mountain face and us, a series of individual rings cascaded down from the spewing cave like a giant stair shaped amphitheater. Each of the pools stepped a few paces down from each other, separated by slanted stone troughs that fed water to the next level. Based on that, these were not natural, but handmade pools. Water trickled over the gravity fed channels, creating a light, bubbling sound that played against the roar of the steaming waterfall. All around us, light dappled in and out of steam and trees, giving an ethereal light to the place.
The clearing stretched out to either side in a sloping curve much like a water basin. Open sided wooden huts clumped together in squares, marking the boundaries of a small market near the edges of the outer pools. People lounged and talked while soaking away the day’s stress all over the place.
The strangest thing though, stranger than the naked men and women leaving the pools, and even stranger than the small shops in the middle of a hidden refuge beneath the Wydvis sky city, were the thick ropes that stretched up high into the clouds and tied to anchor like weights resting on the ground. Flags waved from some of the thicker ones. There were couplets of flags, and others in triplet, and even a few had four or more. A moment, and I realized these were the airships anchors, keeping them in place and designating who’s ship the anchor belonged to.
“First things first,” Volant said with a mischievous grin. “Let’s get naked.”
He laughed when I stared in shock at him. He turned and bounded towards a tree with a bucket hanging off it. I followed, deeply concerned. At a tree just to the side of our path, mercifully still hidd
en away from everyone, he took the long piece of weighted rope and tied it to a metal hook embedded in the trunk. Once tied down, he shrugged off the harness and stretched out like a cat waking up from a nap. I followed suit, knotting my packs rope onto another one of the hooks. The straps untied and no longer supporting me, I felt fully one with the earth again.
“So, this may be a little awkward for you. But, Wydvis and its inhabitants don’t share you leafer’s fear of nudity. So, just try and not stare at every naked person we come across.” With that, he stripped down to nothing, grabbed the bucket, and turned back to me. I hadn’t moved.
“Are you serious?” I asked, my heart still beating just a bit too fast.
He nodded.
“This day cannot get any weirder,” I said, taking off the few layers of clothing I had, hanging them onto the fallpack that was bobbing against the tree now. At the nearest pool, I tried not to act too self-conscious. These ones were the furthest from the waterfall, and therefore the coolest it appeared. They were also rather small and quite shallow.
Volant crouched at the pool’s edge, and dipped the bucket in. He stood back up, and poured the whole thing over himself. He let out a wild whoop, and went back to the water to do it again.
We both poured multiple buckets of water over ourselves without actually getting into the springs. We went back to the tree to return the buckets to their respectful place. “Is that it?” I asked, confused.
“Not even close,” he replied happily. “Because the pools are public, you have to get the initial cleaning done before entering the pool. People get a little upset if your dirty self just jumps into the water with them without washing off a majority of your filth first.”
I nodded in understanding. “I feel like an idiot, standing out in the open with nothing on.”
A Leaf and Pebble Page 13