115

Valley of Dying Stars

“If I paint the hull blue,” said Ansel, thoughtfully, looking up at the tiny airship bobbing overhead, “the ship would be very hard to spot from the ground.”

“Alright,” said Kjell. The big man set down his hammer. “How do we make blue paint?

“Eggs,” said Ansel. He scratched his chin trying to remember the recipe. “Water, oxides, clay?” His voice went up at the end. He wasn’t sure. “I think. Lapis lazuli. For the blue. That much I know for sure.”

“Do you have any lapis lazuli on you?” shouted Kip, from his seat in the air. “What even is lapis lazuli?”

“A precious stone,” said Ansel grinning. “You grind it down to make the pigment. And no, I don’t have any yet.” He did, however, have some ideas about where he could get some. He just had to persuade the others.

“Eggs we have,” said Jethro, leaning over the edge of the ship to peer down at Ansel and Kjell who were working below. It was true they were eating surprisingly well, after a lean couple of first days. Running away with the cook hadn’t been the worst idea, thought Ansel. Jethro was not great in a fight but he was practical and had a fine eye for edibles, and had already started experimenting with the local vegetation back at the camp. Now that he had an airship to forage in, the amount and quality of food he was able to prepare was quite surprising. Ansel found himself increasingly glad he hadn’t absconded to the wilderness with two inquisitors and a scribe. Jethro and Kip were in charge of gathering food, supplies and cooking. Kjell and Ansel were in charge of building.

Several weeks had gone by since their dramatic escape, and considering they were starting out from almost nothing, they were all pleased with their progress. Of course, it helped tremendously that they had run off with a ship loaded full of tools and cavorite. Trying to build without a saw, or hammer or nails would have gotten old fast. Although they were already running out of nails.

After they had recovered from their initial shock, rested, and got some food, things had rapidly improved. The spot they had chosen was isolated. So far, they had not been bothered by anything worse than the wights. They had not laid eyes on a single human, or seen any evidence of human activity apart from a small savage village far to the south-east, next to the sea.

Their days of sleeping crammed in the tiny airship were also over. They were now the proud owners of …Ansel squinted up at it…of a floating thing. But at least it was big enough that they could all sleep comfortably and they were safe from the monsters that lurked in the twilight. Assuming the dragon stayed away. Ansel tried not to think about the dragon but figured if it showed up they were toast anyway.

Working on Ansel’s idea of a floating house they had started with an ugly, airborne box tethered to the treetops. Now, as time went by, they had developed a comfortable structure, half house, half airship. It was a little unsettling in high winds, and Ansel had nightmares about the lines breaking, but so far everything had held as it should.

It was not a ship; it wasn’t supposed to be a ship, but it would be handy if they could move it around a little. Ansel could easily foresee a time when moving would be essential and he wanted to be prepared. And, yes, if the lines ever broke he wanted to be able to steer, before they ended up blown over the ocean and miles out to sea. They were modified for both practical purpose and aesthetics.

They kept the runes burning permanently but the thing was so light and spacious Ansel only had to repaint them every few days or so. Jethro had made them all woven frond pallets stuffed with dried, fragrant mountain herbs to sleep on. They were a bit itchy but otherwise soft and comfortable. They cooked on the ground but kept their larder and their food in the sky, using the small airships to travel up and down. Ansel had installed a rope ladder for emergencies but they all agreed it was too exhausting regularly. They were too high up.

With Kjell working on the finer details, Ansel worked on making the structure more aerodynamic. Ansel had soon discovered that Kjell was a stickler for quality. Occasionally it was vexing, like when they had spent a rainy night with no roof because the big man had insisted on proper joinery, but it was paying off in the long run.

They were also building more of the little airships, the idea being that eventually everyone would have one of their own. Relying on just one seemed like a recipe for disaster, not to mention that if Kip or Jethro were off scavenging then Kjell and Ansel were stuck on the ground, and worse, defenceless.

Jethro and Kip had quickly taken flying solo, and after a bumpy start everyone was comfortable piloting the small airships alone. Cavorite was plentiful, as was wood. It made sense, Ansel reasoned, and could become the difference in life or death. The second airship was now complete, and the third in progress. Ansel had had plenty of time to daydream about designs, back at the camp. The new craft was light and fast. Designed for one person, it could take two in a pinch, or more easily one person with a small cargo.

He looked over it with some satisfaction. Sleek and narrow he had built a scouting ship that could (he hoped) outrun the Sky Lion. He had named it the Sky Cub. At night he dreamed about stealing the Lion out from under Ezra’s nose, even though he knew three men and a boy would not be enough to crew her. Leaving her behind made him bitter but he tried not to think about it.

The ‘old’ airship, the prototype they had escaped in, had somehow become known as the Sugar Bun, after Jethro had spent a particularly rough day lamenting the lack of sweet things in his new life. They were missing many things, not just sugar and lapis lazuli. Ansel had a plan, he waiting for the right moment to propose it.

It was ironic really, Ansel thought idly as he carefully dipped his brush to refresh the runes on the little airship. He had fled Lochlanoch fearing the wrath of the inquisition, hoping for a fresh start, hoping to earn a place in the fleet as a normal, fine upstanding citizen. Hoping one day that he could return to Stonehaven and make a life for himself away from the ashes. He smiled a wry smile, and carefully cleaned off the excess cavorite. Here he was, a hardened criminal, harbouring murderous thoughts about Lochlanoch’s arbiters of justice and embracing his witchcraft. He turned his palm over and summoned a brief flame. It flickered and went out as he squeezed it into a fist. So fragile and so destructive.

“What’s that?” said Kip, jolting Ansel out of his thoughts

“What’s what?” he asked, looking up.

Kip pointed, up and over the neighbouring mountain. Ansel turned to look. A great soot cloud hung ominously in the sky.

“Where’s it coming from?” asked Kjell, putting down his tools.

“Hard to judge,” said Jethro, his expression stony. The cook did not take his eyes off the smoke, his knuckles whitening against the railing of the little airship.

Ansel went up in the Sugar Bun to take a look for himself. Kjell refused to come.

“I’ve gazed at enough madness for a lifetime,” the big man said. He pulled over a fresh piece of wood and stared at it resolutely. “I don’t need more fuel for my nightmares. Just tell me if I have to start running.”

“There’s no need,” said Ansel, as the Sugar Bun bobbed upwards. He stared out over the purple mountain peaks. “At least not just yet. Whatever is happening it looks like it’s a very long way away.”

“A very long way,” said Jethro. “It’s very big. Whatever it is.”

Ansel nodded grimly. They were far enough away that the fire was just a black column, flowering upwards to mushroom into spreading darkness. The ash cloud was turning the winter sunshine to shades of demonic orange, lending a red tint to the landscape. Whatever it was that was burning was substantial. Another village? A town he had not seen? Ezra’s doing, he had no doubt.

Curiosity warred with caution and for once caution won out. Ansel pressed his lips together in a thin line and went back to working on the house. They were safer well away. Whatever had happened had already happened, and they were barely in a position to help themselves, let alone others. He scowled up at the floating structure, his good mood vanishing like a mote of ash in the wind.

Ansel had camouflaged it as well as he could but there was only so much he could do. Wights might not care but anyone who wandered into this valley would have to be blind not to see the bobbing structure. He was experimenting with foliage and grey paint (made from slate grey ochre) in an attempt to make it less obvious. Kjell said he had just succeeded in making it ugly and he begrudgingly conceded that the big man might be right.

Jethro came down from the ship, and Kip announced that he was going scavenging. He flew off in the airship, waving away Kjell entreaties to be careful. The three men watched him go. They were all keeping a close eye on the youngest member of their party. Kip’s behaviour had been erratic, and his rest often violently disturbed. He had taken to sleeping with a rope belted around his middle after he had nearly walked off the edge of the platform seemingly in a sleep haze on the first night they had slept in it.

“Help me with the sails?” said Ansel, and the two men nodded. Ansel strapped his feet to the floating board he used to work on the undersides and belly of the house. It was more than a floating board but not quite a ship, an air canoe was just big enough for himself and his tools. It was too small to accommodate a sail. He kept racking his brains trying to think how he could make a power source, but so far, he had come up with nothing.

He eased into position, Jethro waiting by the ropes on the ground, Kjell inside the house.

“Alright,” he shouted, leaning back on his heels. “Haul them in!”

Jethro unlooped the ropes and Kjell pulled it into the house. The house was now free floating. It bobbed gently and started to drift, ever so slowly sideways. Ansel had deliberately waited till the wind was low, but still his palms started to sweat. It was a long way down.

“Ready!” Kjell sang out.

“Ready,” said Ansel. He murmured a prayer under his breath and pulled the lever he had just finished installing. A boom shot out of the underneath of the house, extending in two directions, like skeletal wings. He pulled another rough handle and sails unfurled with a snap. They billowed out, and the house jolted forwards.

Ansel let out a whoop. It was moving! Not fast…but it was moving. Like a lumbering sky whale. He took careful note of the sail movement, jotting down a few adjustments to make later.

“This is great,” said Kjell, his eyes bright. “But err… how do we avoid smashing into the side of the mountain?”

Ansel swore and cranked the sails in once more.

“Toss the rope,” he cried. “Quickly.”

Jethro caught it, digging his heels into the loam to try. Ansel and Kjell fended the cliff off with rough poles and then breathed a little easier as the house touched the rock gently.

“It works,” said Ansel, with a smile of satisfaction. “Now…I just need to figure out how to steer it.” Kjell rolled his eyes.

“And that’s the last of the sail cloth,” added Ansel. “So we can’t build too much bigger than this, until we manage to get some more sail.” There was quiet as they all thought about this. “I think we should visit a native village.” He looked down into the silence. Jethro’s mouth was open. “Perhaps we can barter for the things we need?”

More silence.

“They’ll shoot us,” said Kjell, uncertainly.

“They don’t have guns,” said Ansel.

“Don’t need guns to make us bleed,” said Jethro.

“I mean, none of the savages we have met were hostile,” said Ansel.

“You mean none of them were hostile before we killed everyone,” said Kjell. “I’m sure word travels. And that smoke the other day…”

“I think it’s worth a try,” said Ansel. “We have to be practical about this. We either try to go home-”

“No,” said the other two, together.

Ansel nodded to himself. Even if they could build a ship big enough it would take ages to get the supplies ready, and they would most likely get torn to shreds in the first storm. Assuming they actually survived the journey, none of them would be welcome back in Stonehaven, as magic practitioners. He had not yet got everyone’s story out of them but if it was anything like his own… their odds of happiness were higher in this distant wilderness surrounded by vicious monsters.

“Or,” Ansel continued, “we live out the rest of our lives, the four of us. Here. It's not all bad. You are all nice.” He waved a hand at the rugged horizon. “Good view. But we shall be hermits, till we die of old age. Kip will have to look after the rest of us when we get too old to work.”

Silence.

None of them had thought about the long term, thought Ansel, sliding along the plank to start working on a new section. Not that he blamed them.

“If we talk to the savages…start a dialogue. Form relationships, learn some of their words, get them to trade for some of the things we can’t make.” He turned to look down at Jethro and smiled. “I bet they have sugar.”

“That’s low,” said Kjell as Jethro’s lips pursed in speculation.

“You know I’m right,” said Ansel.

“What would we trade?” said Jethro.

“Um… I don’t know,” said Ansel, frowning. “But I’m sure we can think of something.” He cast around, waving his hands. “We could teach them how to make airships. We know they don’t use cavorite like we do. We have skills they don’t have. And they have skills we could learn. I mean if we could only talk to them…”

“I think Ansel is right,” said Jethro.

Kjell looked at him with a sour expression. “Of course you do.”

“No, I’m serious!” said Jethro. “Ansel makes good points. We need… other humans.” He blushed, the roots of his hair turning bright red. “And we need to make sure Kip is alright. The other day I had to stop him from burning his hand on the fire, did I tell you that?”

“No,” said Ansel. This sobered them all.

“We need to learn everything we can,” said Ansel.

“For the record,” said Kjell. “I think this is a terrible idea.”

He heaved a great sigh, eyes turning to follow the distant tiny airship. Ansel could just make out Kip’s upright figure, collecting eggs from the cliffs. “I agree, but only because of Kip.”

“Tomorrow, then?” said Ansel.

They nodded, and set about their chores.