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 captain’s hat hard enough that I was almost worried it would get snatched away.I was at the wheel, having taken over from Clive who’d 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 wouldn’t be that much of a leap to imagine that they’d figure out how to stop falling entirely. And if they could stand still in the air, they’d just be a bounce away from flight!I was still daydreaming about being the world’s first flying bun when Clive came to take the wheel. “Smoulderglen’s 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 Walker’s 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 we’re not all that far. We’ll be arriving at Smoulderglen by early evening.”“That’s 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 hadn’t. “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 Clive’s 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.The buildings were built from a warm, red stone, looking like they were kissed by the sun. Many of the structures were round, almost dome-like, and their rooftops gleamed with copper that glowed under the setting sun, appearing like flashes of fire.The illusion was helped by the number of smokestacks and large fires pushing smoke into the air. I caught a whiff of it. Coal smoke? It didn’t smell like woodfire.A river wound its way through the city, its waters shimmering with the reflections of the reddish buildings around it. Then I noticed that the river fed into large pools of faintly steaming water, though I couldn’t tell why they were steaming from all the way up in the Beaver.And the airships! They were everywhere, floating like fat, mechanized whales against the backdrop of the fiery city. Some were large, freight-bearing vessels, while others were sleek, fast-looking airships that cut through the sky like predatory birds. Most of the traffic seemed to be nearer to the south end of the city.Despite the beauty, I felt a shiver of apprehension. The air was different here, heavy with a sense of danger that lurked beneath the city’s beautiful facade. From what I'd heard, Smoulderglen was known for being a city of chaos and intrigue, a haven for those who operated outside the law.As we descended, the chaos of the city became more apparent. The roads were teeming with people, vendors shouting their wares, the clanging of smiths echoing up to us. The airships above bobbed and weaved, some following strict paths while others seemed to wander almost aimlessly.There wasn’t a port in Smoulderglen. There was about fifty of them. Which didn’t make sense with a city that wasn’t all that big. Heck, Smoulderglen occupied an area similar to Inkwren, but much of that area included factories and warehouses, so I think the overall population was lower.So it took a while, and Amaryllis giving up on her sunbathing, for us to find a place to land. We decided on a dock edge of the city, one where a sign was hung that said ‘Vacant!’As we came down, a pair of little figures stepped out of a house next to the dock (which was very low to the ground, little more than some space and a few dozen logs and ramps laid out to accommodate a ship) and ran over to help.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.The air grew hotter as we descended, and the city’s unique scent-a mix of coal, oil, and spiced foods-grew as well.The landing was perfectly smooth, especially with the whole crew working to make sure of it and with Clive at the helm. We were getting good at this! With a slight groan, the Beaver settled onto some logs and we throttled down the engine before shutting it down. The propeller kept spinning, but it was only going along with its momentum now.I glanced over the side, then waved to the two men who’d come to greet us. The two figures-a dwarf and a human, as it turned out-hurriedly began to secure the airship, casting occasional curious glances up at us.They both grabbed a long, ladder and brought it up to the side of the ship where we secured it in place. Then I stepped off the Beaver, testing the ladder by bouncing on it a few times.The human of the pair seemed to be in charge. He was older, with a scruffy white beard that twitched as he spoke, and his eyes were quick, darting over me, and the Beaver with quick little twitches. He seemed like a professional, and his hand felt calloused and tough when I shook it. “Ye be needin' a place to dock, I take it?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. He eyed the Beaver appraisingly, a hand reaching up to stroke his beard."We do," I responded, stepping forward to meet him. "We're just here for the night. We'll be off by sunup. And we need a bit of fuel. I don’t know if you sell any, but I guess it can’t be too hard to find some. There’s a lot of ships around."He grunted in response, running his hand along the side of the Beaver, before turning to face me. "Well, this here's my dock. I'm Farrell, Farrell the Fixer they call me. I can give ye a place to stay for the night, but it'll cost ye."I nodded, expecting as much. "How much would that cost?" I asked.Farrell looked at me, then at the Beaver, then back at me. "Five gold pieces. That'll cover the dockin', and if ye need any repairs or supplies, we can discuss a fair price for those too."Five gold seemed like a lot. Like, way more than what a dock for a night was worth. “I’ll have my first mate do the negotiating, if you don’t mind,” I said. “She’s way better at it than I am.”“Ye, that’s fair ‘nough,” Farrell said. Just as I was about to turn back to the ship and fetch Amaryllis, Farrell suddenly cleared his throat. "There’s something else ye might want to know." He glanced around as if expecting to find eavesdroppers, then leaned in closer. "If ye are here for more than just a night, ye might want to watch your back."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! “What’s wrong with the crews?” I asked."The gangs," Farrell clarified. "There are two main ones in Smoulderglen, The Red Wings and The Ember Hounds. They’ve always had a sort of rivalry, but it heats up around the time of the Fireship Race. Causes all sort of trouble. They’ve both got airships in the race, and neither likes to lose."“Got good money on the Hounds this year,” Farrell’s 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."There’s no way the Beaver could participate in any sort of race. I love him, he’s the best ship ever. But he wasn’t 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 Beaver’s 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 weren’t 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 it’s 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. There’s a few things you could do. But that’s... 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.I’m not sure if she believed me.
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Chapter Four Hundred and Thirteen — Captain's Duty
Chapter Four Hundred and Thirteen — Captain's Duty “That sounds like a terrible idea,” Caprica said when I first hinted at the race.“I think it sounds fun,” Calamity said. “But it’s also not my kind of thing. Sorry Bunch.” He shrugged, then went back to resting his feet on the table.We were in the Beaver’s dining room, having a quick lunch. Amaryllis was finishing up negotiations with Farrell and his dwarven friend, and we were waiting for the fuel to arrive. It would be awhile, so we had nothing better to do than wait.At the rate things were going at, it was unlikely that we’d be leaving until sometime in the morning. Not unless we planned on flying out of the city at night, which was probably a terrible idea.Visibility around an airship, especially above and below, wasn’t great at the best of times. Airships were amazing, but they didn't have the tools that plans had on Earth. No radar, GPS, or altitude metres to make night flying even a little safe. Flying low at night was extremely risky, and Smoulderglen's busy skies made it even worse.I crossed my arms and allowed myself to pout a little. “But it sounds so fun,” I complained.“Yes, but it’s a needless risk, will slow us down while we participate, and judging by the reputation this city has, it might end up giving us enemies that we don’t need,” Caprica said. “And all that for what? Some prize money? It’s not worth it, Broccoli.”She was probably right. But I wasn’t thinking so much about the prize money as I was about the fun we’d have. Heck, with so little time to prepare, I doubted we could win.Caprica might have caught on to my mood, because she pushed an open box my way. It was filled with little hard candies packed full of sugar. Mostly as a way to supplement her sylph diet, but they did taste very good.I took one and popped it into my mouth. Well, if we couldn’t race, we couldn’t race, it wasn’t that big of a deal.That’s about when Awen stepped into the room, hands rubbing together with a damp cloth between them to get rid of a grease stain. “Hey, Broc, can you...”“Oh? Yeah, sure,” I said as I let some Cleaning magic fly her way, scouring off the grease and oil and whatever else she had sticking to her hands.Awen sighed and nodded to me in thanks before sitting down hard. “Thanks,” she said. “What’s everyone talking about?”“Racing,” Calamity said. He’d pulled out a book. An atlas, from the captain’s quarters. It was a book I’d only briefly glanced through, but Calamity had been reading it for a little bit. I think he was mostly just interested in the accounts of foreign food.Awen blinked. Then she looked down at the table for a moment before glancing at me. “Broccoli, can we talk?”“Of course,” I said. “Um, you mean in private?”She nodded, then left the room.“You’re in trouble,” Calamity said in a low, sing-song murmur.I doubted I was in trouble. But maybe Awen was? Did something bad happen? If so, then maybe it was best that I didn’t mess around too much and went to help Awen. I jumped to my feet and followed her into the corridor. “I’ll be right back,” I told the others. “Then maybe we can start on lunch?”I found Awen waiting by the door to her room, she stepped back so that I could follow her in, then she stood there, looking like she didn’t know what to do with her hands and just... didn’t say anything for a while.So I gave her a hug, because hugs could help sometimes. “What did you want to tell me?” I asked while tilting my head to press into hers.“Ah,” Awen said. “I don’t want to make you angry.”I gave her an extra nice squeeze. “Don’t be silly. There’s not much you could tell me that would ever make me angry. Especially not at you. Is something wrong with the Beaver? Do we need to fix something?”Awen shook her head, and carefully, and maybe a little reluctantly, pulled out of the hug. “No, nothing’s wrong with the ship. I’m making sure of that. And, I guess that’s the problem?”“I... don’t understand,” I said. “Can you explain?”Awen nodded, then she went back to her cot and sat hard on the edge of it.Her room was... a bit of a huge mess. There were tools all over, and some spare parts, and lots of books about this and that. Mostly mechanics related stuff. She’d been picking up a book on the subject up here and there, and now she had a tidy... or untidy, little collection.My Cleaning magic kept the rooms dust and stain free, and no one seemed to mind not having to clean as much, but it didn’t do anything for organising. That was all on Awen in here. Which was ironic, since she was the one who warned us most often about not leaving leaving loose things around where they could be thrown about by a hard maneuver.“It’s my work,” Awen said. “Fixing things? I love it. It’s literally what I dreamed of. More than what I dreamed of, really. I often wondered what it would be like to sneak off and join some cargo ship’s crew, maybe pretend I was a boy and definitely not nobility, then just... work until I was respected.”“Okay,” I said. She was clearly building up to something, and I wanted her to know that I was listening with all four ears.“And... yeah. But it’s a lot of work.”She paused for a long time, and I decided to fill the silence in, just a little. “Is it too much?” I asked. “Did you need a break?”Awen shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s... earlier, you asked about turning the Redemption into something faster, right?”“Uh-huh,” I said. “There’s a big race here, in Smoulderglen. But the others talked me out of it.”“Oh,” she said, and I could almost see the wind deflating out of her sails. “I’m sorry. Nevermind then. I’m just wasting your time. Sorry.”I went and sat next to her, then gave her a side hug, which was also very nice because it put my arm in the optimal position for back rubs. The trick was big, slow circles. “Don’t say sorry. I don’t even know what you’re saying sorry for. What is it? I promise I won’t be mad.”Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.Awen chewed on her lip for a moment, then she continued. “I do a lot of work on the Beaver. There’s daily maintenance, then the bigger things that need to be looked after. The engines, the sails, all the rigging, the rudder and its mechanisms. It’s a lot. A ship of this size should have a crew about twice as big as what we have, you know? When we left, with just you, me, Amaryllis, and Clive and the two boys, that was the bare, bare minimum. One mechanic can keep the Beaver flying forever, but it’s a full time job.”I nodded. “Have we been unfair to you?” I asked.A full time job, for a full time mechanic, and that was probably a full time mechanic with years of experience. Awen didn’t have that, not yet. And while I firmly believed that she was special, and incredible-she was my friend, so of course she was-that didn’t mean that she had so much talent that it trumped years of experience.“We’ve been giving you a lot of work, haven’t we?” I said, my voice a lot lower and less happy than usual, because it was true. I’d kind of just... assumed that Awen would take care of all the problems on the Beaver the same way that I assumed that Amaryllis would take care of the money stuff and that I’d take care of the cleaning.But we’d never really sat down and discussed who would do what. We’d never even tried to reward anyone for their work. Not just pay, but... more than that.I felt my ears wilting and I let out a long sigh. “We haven’t been good friends. I haven’t been a good friend.”“What? No,” Awen said.I shook my head. “No, it’s true. I’m the captain, so it’s my job to make sure that things are going right, and I’ve let you down in a big, yucky way. I’m sorry, Awen,” I said. “But... yeah, let’s make things better? I don’t want you to feel underappreciated. You’re the best, and one day you’ll be the greatest mechanic ever, and people will sing songs about you and you’ll have invented the coolest stuff. So... tell me what I can do to help? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ I know I could have helped more than I have.”Awen leaned back for a moment, then she glanced down, but she was smiling a little, and her cheeks were rosy at the compliments. “I don’t want to cause a fuss,” she said. “I don’t want it to be a big thing.”“It is a big thing. Your feelings and your happiness is a big thing to me. Always.”Awen’s little smile got a bit bigger, and she leaned in closer to me, so I wrapped my other arm around her in a two-armed side-hug, which was a very advanced sort of hug.“I just, awa, I just want you to understand that sometimes, things aren’t as easy as they look, I guess. Fixing things is hard. Maintaining them is easier, but not all of the time. And when I do everything just right, it looks like nothing happened at all. When you asked to turn the Redemption into something faster, that’s a lot of work. Like, a lot a lot.”“Oh,” I said. I squeezed her a bit tighter so that maybe the pit in my stomach would go away. “I’m sorry. Do you still want to continue? We can hire someone, maybe. Or get you some help. Or train one of the Scallywags to be your assistant, or maybe we can each do some of the maintenance?”Awen shook her head. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with the Beaver’s maintenance,” she said. “And I still love what I do. I just... I don’t know.”"I think I get it," I said. "My guess is that you're feeling underappreciated. Does that sound about right?""Awa, um, I don't really think ... well ..." Awen hedged, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine."Then, can you describe what you are feeling?" I asked."Uh ..." she looked lost for a moment. "Awa ... okay. As I said, the Beaver takes a lot of work. Which I do. And I ... suppose the rest of the crew doesn't really seem to notice? Except for Clive, I think."Clive had served on airships a long time, so he probably had a rough idea of how much effort Awen needed to put in. That made sense."And, well, I guess that ... not acknowledging my work is ... underappreciation," she decided.It hurt to have her say it like that. But I think it was the kind of hurt I needed.The silence stretched on for a minute. "Awen," I finally said, "I don't know how we'll learn to appreciate you more but I’ll be sure to do it. We’ll be appreciating you so much, you won’t know where to put all the appreciation you’re getting.”Awen giggled as I started swaying from side to side, turning the hug into a rocking hug. “Thanks, Broc, I appreciate that.”I giggled right back, then dropped my head onto her shoulder. I’d been a less-than-great friend, but I was sure that I could do better. Maybe I could set something up so that everyone pulled their weight, and saw how hard Awen was working too.Just as I was about to consider ending the hug, the door to Awen’s room opened up a smidge, Amaryllis popped her head in. “Broccoli, Awen, there you are.”“Hey,” I said. “Is something up?”Amaryllis nodded. “Yes, something very much is. You’ve heard of that ridiculous race?” The last was aimed squarely at me.“Yup. But we’re not participating. It’s not a good idea, and Awen’s working hard to keep the Beaver in one piece, I don’t think we could ask her to help us with racing anything.”“Of course we’re not participating, are you mad? The prize is a pittance and the race is only popular to a select few outside of the region. But I did get a list of participating ships from Ferrell.”“He gave you a list?” I asked.She glanced away. “He might have had it in his office, and I might have temporarily requisitioned it. It doesn’t matter, look at this.”She handed something over, a page, with the name of the race, a small map of the circuit, and at the bottom, a list of the airships participating in it.One immediately caught my eye. The Shady Lady.“Wait! Awen, that’s...”“That’s Uncle’s ship!” Awen shouted.
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