“What are you singing?” she asked, looking back at him.
Gerith looked up with a crooked smile. “Just an old song.”
“What is it about?” she asked.
Gerith paused in his scrubbing and tilted his head. “I don’t think you’re old enough,” he said with a chuckle. “Let’s just say it’s a song from my homeland, the song of an explorer, er, yearning for the comforts of home. We’ll leave it at that.”
“Fair enough,” Seren said. “So where is the rest of the crew?”
“Rest?” Gerith asked, peering up at her again. “Well, you’ve met Dalan, though he isn’t really crew, since he really doesn’t do anything to help keep the ship going other than pay the bills. Then there’s the captain, Tristam, Omax, me, and … and, well that’s pretty much it.”
“Doesn’t a ship this size need a bigger crew than four people?” Seren asked.
“Usually, yes,” Gerith said. “Throw magic in the mix and things get a bit odd, and airships are things of magic. Think of it this way: The wizards and artificers are already there binding the elemental and enchanting the ship so that she’ll take to the wind. They may as well add in a few extra spells so that the ship can function a bit more efficiently, right? Karia Naille has it better than most. One of the finest ships it’s been my pleasure to crew on. She has a few special features.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“I’m not giving away her secrets,” Gerith said with a laugh. “Wait till you’re with us for a bit. Maybe you’ll find out.”
Seren nodded and let the subject slide, though the idea of more secrets didn’t sit well with her. She looked past Gerith, at the creature perched behind him. “What sort of animal is that? I’ve never seen a lizard so big before.”
The creature glared at her with angry black eyes. The leathery crest behind his cheeks flared.
“Careful,” Gerith said. “Blizzard’s sensitive. He’s not a lizard. He’s a glidewing with a proud pedigree. Only the finest warriors in my tribe can ride them. They’re the most glorious creatures in all of the Talenta Plains, the rulers of the sky. And he’s my friend. The two of us have seen the whole world together.”
Blizzard gave an irritated flap of his leathery wings and let out a quick shriek.
“And he gets irritated when we do not finish our song,” Gerith explained, turning and flicking his towel at the creature. The glidewing blinked, snorted, and shook off the soapy water. Preening one wing, he huddled on its perch and waited patiently for Gerith to continue.
The cabin hatch beside Dalan’s opened just as the halfling resumed his song. A tiny old man, only slightly taller than the diminutive Gerith, strode out onto the deck. He was dressed in an immaculately pressed black uniform, a tight leather cap, and a pair of frosted goggles. Seren recognized him as a gnome, though she had met only a handful of them during her time in Wroat. Jamus had always instructed her to avoid gnomes. Not only did their sharp, inquisitive nature make them difficult to rob, but you generally didn’t want to know what they had in their pockets.
“Good afternoon,” the little man said, bowing toward Seren.
“Hello,” she said.
“You are Miss Morisse, the thief Master d’Cannith invited onto my ship?” he asked in a pert voice.
“I am Seren Morisse,” she said, taken aback by the abrupt greeting.
“Excellent!” the gnome said. “I am Captain Pherris Gerriman, of the Zilargo Gerrimans, of whom I am almost entirely certain you’ve never heard and likely couldn’t care less. That makes us even, for the details that would lead Master d’Cannith to invite a known thief onboard my vessel would most likely only raise my lather and induce another in the chain of many headaches that have plagued my days of late. Therefore I prefer my ignorance. More importantly, now you are acquainted with me and I am acquainted with you. Most importantly, I see that you are now acquainted with the rail, and that pleases me a great deal.”
“Why is that?” Seren asked.
“Because if you steal anything on my ship, Miss Morisse, or if you steal and draw trouble back to my ship because of it, then you will be going over that rail,” the gnome said in the same cheerful tone. “Until then, we have no problems with one another, and I will show you the same loyalty I show all my crew. Your past means nothing to me so long as you obey my orders. You are one of us now. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” she said, somewhat stunned.
The gnome clicked his boots pertly and turned away from her. “Master Snowshale! Where in Khyber are my artificer and his bodyguard?”
“Tristam and Omax are still in the city, I suppose,” Gerith said, not looking up from his scrubbing.
“Blast,” Pherris said. Grumbling under his breath, the gnome climbed onto the railing beside Seren and stared at the skyline. “I should have sent the dog for supplies. At least he always comes back for dinner. We should have left Wroat hours ago.”
“Do you want me to look for them?” Seren offered. “I know the city.”
“Excellent idea, Miss Morisse,” Pherris said, rolling his eyes. “There’s nothing I’d like better than to waste time looking for you as well. No, my dear, that shan’t be necessary. Master Xain is a magnet for trouble, but I’ve no doubt he’ll find an opportunity to … ah.” The captain pointed at the southern skyline. “There. That’s their signal.”
Seren looked in that direction to see a streak of red light dropping from the sky, leaving a trail of thick purple smoke.
Pherris stomped back to the middle of the deck, climbing a short ladder to reach the ship’s helm. Sensing what was to come, Gunther rose, trotted across the deck, and pawed impatiently at his master’s hatch. “Prepare for takeoff, Master Snowshale,” Pherris said in a grim voice.
“Aye, Captain,” the halfling said, already hopping to his feet. “Seren, lend a hand.”
“What do I do?” she asked.
“Just follow me and do what I do,” the halfling said, busily beginning to untie the mooring ropes that secured the ship to the tower. Seren helped as best she could, though the halfling’s deft fingers undid the knots more quickly than she could.
“Is there trouble, Captain?” Dalan asked, opening his cabin hatch and peering out. Gunther shoved past his master and disappeared into the shadows beyond, obviously eager to flee the deck before takeoff.
“Tristam and Omax have been gone too long,” the gnome said. “They sent up a flare.” He pointed in the relevant direction, though he did not take his eyes from the ship’s controls.
“Those fools had best not be drawing attention,” Dalan said angrily. “They’ve caused enough trouble.”
“Time enough to cast blame when they’re back onboard, Master d’Cannith,” the captain said. “Ready for launch!”
Dalan stepped back with a sigh and closed his cabin hatch. Gerith nudged Seren. She looked down to see he was now holding a thick rope, one of many tied securely to the rail at regular intervals. She seized one as well, and Gerith gave a whistle. Pherris nodded and spun the wheel with both hands. Above the deck, the glowing blue ring seethed with red energy and sang with a steady, high-pitched hum. A vibration passed through the deck and the ship lurched away from the tower. Blizzard released a sharp cry and dropped off the rail, only to appear again on the other side of the ship, wings spread wide to catch the wind. Captain Gerriman pulled sharply at a lever beside the wheel and the ship righted herself, falling even and roaring off over the river. Seren saw the streets of Wroat pull away beneath them, people dwindling into dots and buildings shrinking. It was an odd, detached feeling, as if she were falling away from the world. It was strangely thrilling.
“First flight?” Gerith asked with a wide grin.
She nodded, unable to find any words.