Chapter Four Hundred and Twelve - Sunset Over Smoulderglen

Chapter Four Hundred and Twelve - Sunset Over Smoulderglen

Chapter Four Hundred and Twelve - Sunset Over Smoulderglen

I could feel the wind rushing across my bunny ears (having extra bundles of nerves on top of my head still managed to be thrilling, even after all these adventures) and tugging at my captains hat hard enough that I was almost worried it would get snatched away.

I was at the wheel, having taken over from Clive whod taken his turn this morning already. We were two days out from Inkwren, and more or less on course to reach Smoulderglen sometime that evening, at least according to Amaryllis.

The crew was mostly resting. Awen was tinkering with her turret, Calamity was on the deck showing Caprica how to fire trickshots with a bow, and Amaryllis was sunbathing.

My attention wavered over to the Scallywags, however. The three of them were sitting right on the deck, shielded from the wind by the ramps near the front, and they were playing cards together. Sally was smiling.

There were a thousand things to worry about as captain, but if I could make my crew feel valued and understood, then at least I was doing something right.

Clusters of cotton-ball clouds hung around, sailing alongside us, as if racing to see who could reach Smoulderglen first. I saw birds--hawks, maybe?--soaring beneath us, their cries swallowed by the distance and the thump of our propeller. There was a certain kind of beauty in flying. The wind was not just a sensation--it was freedom, it was adventure.

I really had to learn some sort of flight magic. It had to exist, right? I knew that Feather Fall was a spell. If a mage could make themselves fall slower, then it wouldnt be that much of a leap to imagine that theyd figure out how to stop falling entirely. And if they could stand still in the air, theyd just be a bounce away from flight!

I was still daydreaming about being the worlds first flying bun when Clive came to take the wheel. Smoulderglens not far, he said before using the stem of his pipe to point to the east. See that river there? That one starts right by Walkers Rest.

So it starts at the Harpy Mountains and leads all the way to here? I asked.

Mhm. Keeps going for quite a ways. And has three or four names besides. But I recognize it. So were not all that far. Well be arriving at Smoulderglen by early evening.

Thats fantastic, I said.

Clive nodded, but then he frowned a bit, bushy eyebrows meeting. Lots of traffic in the sky today. Did you notice?

I blinked, mostly because I really hadnt. Other airships? I asked.

Aye. I spotted a few. Always far off and in the clouds, often quite high up. I wouldn't say anything of it, except ... this is Smoulderglen.

Ah, I said. Amaryllis had mentioned that Smoulderglen was something of a hive of villainy.

I looked up again at Clives words. My eyes squinted as they searched for any moving dots in the sky. There, far to the east, a small speck that might have been an airship or just a rogue cloud. Clive was right. We'd have to be careful as we got closer.

As we began to draw nearer, the first sign of Smoulderglen appeared on the horizon - a thin wisp of smoke rising up into the sky, dancing and twirling as if bidding us welcome. It was soon followed by the flickering lights of the city - countless embers spilled across the landscape like glimmering coals.

Smoulderglen was a city seemingly carved from flame itself.

I felt my eyebrows shooting up and my ears perking. Why? What is it? Is Smoulderglen that dangerous, or, uh, is that a threat? Threatening someone you just met, especially a new client, seemed somewhat rude to me.

"A bit of both, I reckon," Farrell replied, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "Smoulderglen's always been a bit...turbulent. But things are a mite more disordered of late."

I tilted my head. "Why's that?"

"The Fireship Race," Farrell answered, his eyes gleaming with a strange mix of apprehension and excitement. "Annual event here in Smoulderglen. Draw in airships from far and wide, competing for a grand prize. But it ain't just the race. It's the crews."

I resisted the urge to clap my hands. An airship race! That sounded awesome! Whats wrong with the crews? I asked.

"The gangs," Farrell clarified. "There are two main ones in Smoulderglen, The Red Wings and The Ember Hounds. Theyve always had a sort of rivalry, but it heats up around the time of the Fireship Race. Causes all sort of trouble. Theyve both got airships in the race, and neither likes to lose."

Got good money on the Hounds this year, Farrells dwarven friend said with a chuckle.

I glanced back at the Beaver, then at the bustling city of Smoulderglen. The Fireship Race. That could be interesting. "Thanks for the heads up, Farrell."

Theres no way the Beaver could participate in any sort of race. I love him, hes the best ship ever. But he wasnt the fastest ship ever. Not by... a long, long shot.

The Redemption on the other hand... well now, she was a fine, and very speedy, little airship.

I could feel the cogs clacking in my head as I raced up the ladder. It only took a moment to tell Amaryllis about Farrell, and the price he wanted to charge us, and that was enough to have her flapping over the edge of the ship to go negotiate.

Now that she couldn't tell me this was a bad idea, I glanced at the skiff tied up in between the Beavers twin hulls. A nice, sleek Snowlander design, with an oversized engine and in tip-top condition now that Awen had a look at it. Still... we were on a schedule.

It would be a shame if we missed the wedding because of a race.

On the other hand, we werent late to the wedding or anything. And we had a gift already. And we could use some prize money. Or just the experience of participating in an airship race.

I held back giggles as I sidled up to Awen. Hey, Awen, I said. Do you think you could make an airship go way faster than its supposed to? Hypothetically?

Awen blinked at me, then I idly reached over and smushed off some grease that was staining her cheek. Ah, uh, yes? I guess. Change the fuel mixture, tweak the timing on the engine, remove some parts of the exhaust. Theres a few things you could do. But thats... not a good idea? Engines are designed to last, pushing them to go faster usually means shortening their lifespan. Or it might mean that you have to spend a lot more time on maintenance. She squinted her eyes a little. Why are you asking?

I shrugged. Just a little curious, I said.

Im not sure if she believed me.

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