The Wind Merchant Page 14

  “I get the picture,” Callie said. “But wouldn’t it be amazing to find a way to fix things?”

  “You think they’d let us land? They probably hate us for leaving them.”

  “Maybe they’ve figured out why the Great Overload happened.” Callie shrugged as she watched Ras step beside her to flick on the engine. It sputtered, then backfired in a concussive blast that belched black smoke into the hold.

  “No!” Ras put the rag over his mouth and ushered Callie up the ladder before flicking the engine off and climbing up after her. The smoke billowed up out of the hold behind him as they reached the deck. “Half a house, up in smoke!” He coughed. “Make that another day to Derailleur.”

  After the smoke cleared, Ras spent the remaining daylight hours tinkering with the engine while Callie steered and kept a watchful eye on the horizon for sky pirates or The Collective.

  “I can barely see where we’re going anymore,” Callie’s muffled voice filtered into the hold from the bridge.

  Ras looked out the porthole to see pitch black and checked his watch to confirm his stomach’s assessment that it was well past dinnertime.

  He lobbed the wrench to the wall, and it stuck against the magnetized strip with a clang. Climbing the ladder to the deck, he looked up to see Callie softly illuminated by the console’s faint blue light.

  “Crescent moon’s out tonight,” she said, pointing to the horizon.

  Ras looked back over his shoulder at the sliver of white barely illuminating the clouds. “We could probably keep flying if the moon was full. But at least we’ll get to see some stars.” He watched Callie crane her neck to stare up at the sparkling sky.

  “Remember when you used to tell me their names?” she asked.

  He did. Reciting incorrect names for constellations to the pretty neighbor girl was the closest his nine-year-old self ever got to flirting. “How old were you when you figured out what they were really called?” Ras asked. Stepping up to the bridge to join her, he gently moved her aside so he could resume command of the vessel.

  “I already knew, but I think I liked your names better.” She looked back down to him and smiled. “Besides, I don’t think anyone owns them, so who’s to say your names weren’t just as good?”

  “Right. Because Megastar was more elegant than Cassius.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Megastar,” she said, laughing. “It’s very descriptive.” She took in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh.

  “You all right?” Ras asked.

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine,” she said, plastering on her best fake smile.

  “C’mon navi, out with it.” Ras meant to sound playful, but his words had more of an edge than he anticipated.

  “I just had a rough headache while you were working on the engine. I’m fine now.”

  Ras nodded. The concept of the trip keeping her constantly away from a physician’s care wasn’t something he had considered. He imagined her falling unconscious onto the wheel, throwing the ship into a dive while he was down in the hold. “Will you promise to tell me when those start?”

  “Yeah,” she said. The usual joy that accompanied most of her facial expressions was now absent for a moment before she changed the subject. “I think I’m going to go see what food Hal gave us. Any requests?” she asked as she began descending the stairs to the deck.

  “I’m not picky, I’ll eat whatever.” Ras smiled. “Fair warning, I only know how to make windcakes.”

  “Dare I ask?”

  Ras laughed. “It’s like a pancake, but the mix is different. Thicker. I think they find whatever grain they use on the mountains. It’s easy for wind merchants to just keep a bag of dry mix next to the stove if they want a hot meal. Just add water.”

  “So I’ll be cooking for the entirety of this trip,” Callie said half to herself before opening the door to the quarters.

  “Unless you want windcakes,” Ras called over the railing.

  She stopped and looked up at him. “Is that all you ate when you were out collecting?”

  “Like I said, not picky.” He watched her disappear into the room beneath him.

  Ras wasn’t entirely certain how they’d be able to afford restocking with what little money they had between them, or even how long the trip would last if more engine difficulties arose. He’d need to be frugal with Flint when it came time to barter for the engines.

  Looking over the horizon, not a single mountaintop peaked through the cloud floor. Ras hoped to anchor down to a mountain for the night, but wasn’t finding any prospects. He didn’t want to risk setting down somewhere with wind potent enough to overwhelm Callie’s Energy threshold, but he also didn’t want to let The Brass Fox drift aimlessly into the clutches of a band of nocturnal sky pirates.

  At the pull of a lever, the collection tube lowered into the clouds. The dash beeped. Level 1. They would be suitably safe for the night.

  Ras pushed the wheel forward, dipping the nose forward until clouds spilled over the deck. A clanging noise from the quarters and a shout of surprise reminded Ras to ease the descent. “Sorry!”

  Callie exited the quarters and began to inquire what was going on until she saw the clouds quickly engulf her. “Why are we going below cloud cover again?” she asked before disappearing in the fog.

  “We’re going to have to lay down anchor soon.”

  “But, the Energy—” she began.

  “We’re in Level 1 territory. It’ll be like walking around on Verdant,” Ras said, just as The Brass Fox exited the clouds to the dark world below. What little light escaped through the clouds allowed Ras to barely make out some of the topography. It didn’t shimmer, so he at least knew they weren’t over a body of water.

  “Do you think anyone is down there?” Callie asked.

  “Maybe. I doubt a Remnant would climb up our anchor if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I hadn’t considered that,” Callie said, becoming lost in thought. A long moment passed before she snapped herself out of it. “Dinner should be ready soon,” she said before disappearing once more into the room.

  Once The Brass Fox descended low enough, Ras abandoned his position at the helm to work the anchor’s crank, lowering the hunk of metal until the chain went slack. He looked over the side to see it resting in what appeared to be a grown-over field of some crop long since allowed to run wild.

  He shut down the remaining engine, its drone giving way to the teeming sounds of nature so unfamiliar to his ears. He heard a low roar from somewhere in the distance but couldn’t discern its origin. It didn’t sound like an animal or an airship, so he let the mystery rest until morning and made his way to the Captain’s quarters for the first time since his ship had been called The Copper Fox.

  It took Ras a moment to recognize the usually disheveled room. For once, it was spotless, something he attributed more to Callie than Tibbs. From the makeshift mini-galley to his left he smelled something savory cooking.

  Ahead, Callie faced the door, occupying one of the four chairs circling the table in the center of the room. She stood, carefully removing the typewriter from the table, and placed it atop a set of maps on the rolltop desk behind her.

  The flimsy bed Ras avoided sleeping on whenever he could afford to sat in the back corner to his right. He wished Callie had something more substantial to rest on for their voyage.

  He walked over to the old wardrobe he had long ago bolted to the wall, desperately needing a towel to wipe off the grime of the day. He wondered if his mother had brought his clothes aboard. Opening the double doors, it took Ras a moment to realize he was staring at some of Callie’s more delicate clothing items hanging in place of his.

  “Hey!” she shouted. “Your stuff is in the drawers,” she said, flustered.

  Ras quickly shut the doors. “Sorry. Won’t happen again,” he said as he crossed the room to grab a dishrag from the galley. He scrubbed at his face in an attempt to hide the blush.

  The whole room g
lowed warmly under the Energy lamps that hung from the ceiling. By nature they glowed green, but Tibbs’ orange fixtures over them cast a more natural hue.

  “Thanks for cleaning the place up.”

  “Had to. I can’t concentrate on writing if there is clutter.”

  “I’ll remember that,” said Ras, lifting the lid to reveal red soup with steam rolling from the surface.

  “I hope you’re a fan of the world famous Tourbillon tomato soup,” she said as she stood. She walked to the galley and grabbed two mismatched bowls and a ladle from the pantry.

  “Who wouldn’t be?” he asked genuinely. He spotted himself in the mirror. He was a complete wreck. Mostly dry clothes hung off of him, his left pant leg was ripped from snagging it on the engine earlier in the day, and he was certain Callie was being polite and not mentioning the smell of smoke from the repeated attempts at starting the failed engine.

  He slumped into the chair facing the galley so he could see Callie. For a moment he wondered if this was what it would look like if they were married, or if this was what it looked like on those few voyages where Emma went out on runs with Elias during their first years together.

  “You’re staring,” Callie said, teasing.

  “Sorry. Long day,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Thanks for dinner.”

  Callie brought the bowls to the table before she sat. “At least we’re on our way.” She held up her spoon ceremoniously. “To seeing the world.”

  It took a moment for Ras to realize she wanted him to clink his spoon the way two would toast a happy occasion.

  “Hear, hear.” Ras tapped his spoon against hers and dug in.

  “Did it turn out ok?” she asked as soon as Ras had his first taste. “Sorry, I always ask when the other person’s mouth is full.”

  Ras swallowed eagerly to answer, then winced as the heat of the soup burned its way down to his stomach. “It’s great, really.”

  A couple minutes passed with nothing but the clanks of spoons on bowls before Callie broke the silence. “Have you ever been to Derailleur?” she asked.

  “My dad took me once when I was eight. It’s a least ten times the size of Verdant. I once heard that almost a quarter of all the refined fuel from The Winnower goes to feed its Helios engines.”

  “No!” she said in disbelief. “Do you think we’ll see The Winnower?”

  “Maybe,” Ras said, scraping the last of the soup from the bowl, its warmth having escaped. “Since it covers The Origin, I doubt the Energy will be terribly thick around it. We might be able to dip down and see it.”

  “Would you like some more?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Need to save what we can when we can. Thank you, though.” He stood and brought his bowl to the galley to clean. “Nobody’s going to climb the anchor.”

  “What?”

  “The chain is too long for anyone sane to climb,” Ras said.

  “Oh, yeah, of course it is,” she said. “I knew that.”

  He walked to the door. “Goodnight, and thanks again for dinner.”

  “Wait, where are you going to sleep?”

  “I’ll figure something out,” he said before ducking out the door and into the night.

  Outside was peaceful. The cloud cover kept the stars from peeking through, but at least sky pirates and The Collective wouldn’t be searching for them this low.

  After one more cursory check of the rigging and the anchor, Ras descended into the hold and grabbed a tangled bit of rope netting he once used as a hammock on a particularly slow collection day. He untangled the mess, securing it between the engines. Satisfied, he balled up his jacket as a pillow and eased his way into the makeshift bed.

  Ras drifted off, wondering if Hal would be able to keep Bravo Company from attacking again.

  The dreamless sleep ended after an indeterminate amount of time as Ras bolted awake to Callie shoving him. “Ras! Ras! Fire!”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Clockwork Metropolis

  Ras would have flipped out of the hammock entirely if it weren’t for his leg tangling in the netting. A dull roar filled the area from every direction. “Where?” he shouted as he slipped out of one of his boots to expedite his extraction.

  As the world came into focus he spotted Callie sitting on the floor hugging her legs. She pointed up. “I don’t want to blow up!”

  Blow up?

  Ras scrambled up the ladder to get above deck and squinted at the sudden rush of light as the sound grew louder. His eyes adjusted to the daylight, allowing him to notice the small green tongues of flame showering down around the ship. They sizzled when intercepted by falling drops of water. As best Ras could tell, the ship wasn’t on fire. Ras leaned over the edge to spot the source.

  A Convergence drifted high above the ship.

  Rain pattered on Ras’ face and one of the green tongues of flame dissipated as it almost came into contact with him. “Are you watching over us?” Ras asked, half to himself.

  Peeling his attention from the burning sky, Ras looked out and spotted a cascade of water pouring down into a larger pool. That explains the sound from last night. He wished he was more cognizant of his surroundings to appreciate them, then remembered the terrified Callie below deck.

  Sticking his head down into the hold, Ras said, “It’s all right. We’re all right.” Not garnering a response, he climbed down to meet her. “Hey, it’s just a Convergence.” Ras was fairly certain that phrase had never been uttered before. He kneeled down next to her huddled form.

  “You shouldn’t be near me!” she said, tears forming.

  “What’s going on—” Ras began, not moving.

  “I’m a Knack, Ras! I’m a Knack and I’m going to blow up!”

  “You can’t be,” said Ras.

  “Yes, I can! That’s why I have my headaches! That’s why my parents put me in the basement! The doctors say I’m so sensitive to Energy that I could go at any minute, and a Convergence is right above us!” She sobbed, her body heaving with each gasp of air.

  Suddenly the basement prison made so much more sense. She was Mr. Tourbillon’s supposed time-bomb baby. Ras wrapped his arms around her instinctively. “Hey, hey, it’s all right. You’re not a Knack, trust me.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?” she asked.

  “Because you’re closer to a Convergence than anyone has a right to be, and you haven’t blown up,” Ras said. “Look at yourself, you don’t even have Energy poisoning.” He unwrapped one of her arms from her legs and brought her hand up in front of her. “Your skin turns gray before you blow up. What color do you see?”

  Callie took a deep, shuddering breath. “Not gray.”

  “Not gray.”

  She smiled sweetly and tears began forming in her eyes again. She wiped one away, laughing. “For the longest time I wouldn’t let myself really believe I was a Knack, but until you know for sure, there’s still a little part of you that wonders if the next moment will be your last…I guess that settles that.”

  “I’d say it does. Breathe deep, Callie. There’s a new, old world out there with nothing to be afraid of. Well, at least not from the wind,” Ras amended, releasing the embrace and patting her on the shoulder. “C’mon, the fire is really pretty if you don’t think it’ll kill you.”

  He stood and offered his hand. She looked up and suppressed a laugh as she noticed Ras’ wild hair.

  His morning bed-head was something Emma teased him about relentlessly, and having Callie see him like this was its own special brand of mortifying. He quickly tried to tame it by licking a palm and running it over the hair that couldn’t pick a direction. “I call it windswept. All the wind merchants are doing it.”

  “Uh-huh.” She giggled as she accepted his hand and stood.

  Above deck, Callie gave names to everything, pointing out the waterfall pouring into the river. “Is there a chance we could ever go down to the ground?”

  “Let’s save Verdant from sinking first,” Ras said, �
�But how about you find where we are on the map, and I promise I’ll take you here after everything’s finished.”

  “A fourth promise?”

  “As long as you don’t tell anyone about…this,” he said, circling a finger around his hair.

  “Deal.”

  They stared at the waterfall through the tongues of flame for another minute before Ras asked, “So, the headaches don’t mean you’re a Knack.”

  She nodded. “Maybe someday I’ll figure out what’s wrong with me.”

  “I’m not seeing anything,” Ras said before leaving to clean up and prep The Fox for the flight to Derailleur.

  After a quick breakfast and raising the anchor, they returned to their positions on the bridge. With a sub-cloud course plotted, Ras propped the wheel and took a brief walk to stretch his legs to pass the time and gaze at the lush world below.

  Clouds were simple in their grayscale palette until the sun set them ablaze, but having stared at them his entire life, the changing vista of the ground was a feast for the eyes.

  Ras felt much safer flying where few dared to tread, bolstering his hopes that as long as he could continue to stay beneath the clouds, their trip might be healthily uninteresting.

  Callie used the next five hours to display her knowledge of the world below, educating Ras on what everything they could see was called, and even tossed in some animal names.

  “Honestly, I always wondered what a fox was,” Ras said.

  “They’re cute,” Callie said. “With their little paws and white snouts.”

  “Cute, huh?”

  “And cunning,” Callie said, attempting to dissuade any thought of renaming the vessel. “People used to think of them as sly.”

  “I guess that makes it better.”

  They watched the landscapes change from lush to arid, noting the occasional shadow cast on the clouds above, and even the rare wind merchant collection tube trolling through.