Chapter 15 - By Order of the Queen

The owl-doll on her shoulder kindly waved goodbye to the black-cloaked man in front of them, before ejecting a narrow cone of high-pressure water at his face. The resulting force blew him backward from the flight of stairs, giving him two stories of height before gravity took over, and his back hit the steps.

Edven and the captain hoofed down the stairs as fast as physically possible. Alanea, who was more capable than Edven, skipped multiple stairs while descending in a manner that could only be described as "parkour". With the barrel of rice wine abandoned, her owl-doll flew back to pick it up and carried it on her head, compressing its head stuffing.

Kuthe used his orange gemstone to clear space ahead, forming a wedge of orange colored force-field-like energy, pushing between the living bodies of Radiants to approach the Prospector. In very little time, Alanea had arrived to be behind Kuthe, followed by Edven and the stuffed owl within the same bead.

Cowel on the deck was trying to prevent the mechanoid from descending to "Assist." He grabbed the automation to pull him back, knowing that forcing it to move would be impossible, but maybe it would obey the intention. Kuthe, Alanea, Edven, and a straining owl passed across the plank onto the deck of the ship and crouched through the space between the golem's arms and the rail. The automaton lifted the gangplank with no effort and pulled it back onto the flight deck to cut off access.

Alanea scrambled up the cabin deck stairs and threw the nacelle lever to open the shutters and lift the ship. On the pier, the cult was being eviscerated. The last of the Umbrals screamed and flailed as the white-cloaked zealots dragged him to the plinth, placed his amulet upon it, and shattered its stones with a two-handed steel warhammer. The shards of the gemin within were scattered across the air, showing their voracious teeth.

The pendants of the Radiant monks shone out spheres of white light into an aura that rendered the black gemin fragments clear and inert. The crowd of monks roared in triumph as they returned to their prior formations and circles of chanting without even a breath or pause. A few were throwing a body of their fallen comrade off the cliff face edge into the torrent. They said a prayer and wrote down the details of the individual, then moved on to the next corpse. A couple of monks passed through the crowd, tending to injuries ranging from mortal stab wounds to small slashes.

As the ship rose above the masts of the ships above and behind them, Edven leaned up against the dockside rail. His face was pale beneath sooty grease smears. "They just--- they killed them all... just like that." He shook his head in disbelief.

Kuthe approached the rail and stood up on the low bar that blocked items from rolling off the deck. His tail jerked, and he clicked his teeth. "For Radiants, worship is war. They are no different from the cult they despise. Only they are painted white instead of black. People see them as a force of good because the powers they use give life, but as you see, they will not hesitate to take life away."

Alanea boasted from the deck above. "Those monks do everything in plain sight, and everyone smiles..." She looked down intensely at the Carnival guards lounging. "Lillian allows it and delights in it. That's why they're here... their birdshit is tolerated anywhere else." She batted her hand against the helm wheel rhythmically. "They saved our lives, but they would have taken the stone if they knew it was here."

Kuthe turned around and rested his back against the rail with his tail poking through the banister. "I'm sure the clergy are well aware of the stone's location. They are happy to let us attract the cultists with it. As long as the Umbrals don't have the stone, they won't bother. Any number of them could have prevented us from boarding the ship. The Radiants only care about gemin that are white, and white gemin don't force their will on others."

Cowel collapsed against the mast and slid his back down it to the deck. Prism still remained hot against his abdomen. Its colors swirled vividly and spilled through the cloth. He took the folded silk outside of his coat and pressed it up to his forehead, and whispered. "You're safe now. You're safe."

The words penetrated through the front of his skull. He would have started weeping if he didn't hold it back, keeping a harsh, burning feeling in his throat. Wringing the silk of the covering between his fingers tightly, they constricted until his hand hurt.

Alanea spared herself and him from eye contact. Her eyes returned forward to the land in front of them, and she pulled the engine thrust lever. "We should leave so we don't end up in their crusade."

Edven crouched near the mechanoid and ran his hand over its pearlescent stone arm to steady his balance as the ship jolted forward. "I also wouldn't mind being outside of their crusading distance."

Kuthe knelt down, crossing his legs on the deck floor, looking back at the aeroina being hidden by the white stone cliff behind them. "Remember this, how willing people are to die in claiming or protecting the stone. It is a warning, and Prism knows it too."

Cowel shut his eyes, and Prism's heat radiated against his head. A song of nature was playing deep within his ears, overlapped by screams of animals, people, and something he could not determine. He couldn't tell where his own fear ended and Prism's began.

The Prospector climbed until the violet banners of the port of Whitestone could no longer be seen. In the distance ahead, new violet banners marked out the territory controlled by the Carnival every redknot or so along the ground. As they rose, the horizon ahead widened and the tree line expanded into a forest below them.

Cowel stood and leaned against the mast and bowed his head to it, returning Prism to the safety of his buttoned coat pocket. The stone was no longer warm. He had nothing to say, but still heard echoes of the chanting monks in his head. He didn't understand the words they spoke, but had taken the chant inside of him and repeated it under his breath.

Alanea remained standing tall on the cabin deck with both hands on the wheel. She did not look down, and only ahead into the distance. The sails rippled, but weren't doing much work, given they were running with the engines again at full tilt. Red gemin engines weren't designed to run all the time due to the heat they generated, but these were brand new and quality-built. Also, could easily be cooled by the owl when they needed to be.

The bay below narrowed, and the white cliffs disappeared as they flew past the demarked border over Lilly's Land. It was one of the longest skylands in all of Una, but had a rather narrow waist. Crossing it to the Great Circus was a rather short trip. The Prospector passed its way over the beautiful forest below, which at this time of year contained all of the colors of leafall.

Wind was channeled in sudden gusts, and the owl-doll warned in whistles, beat the air with its cloth wing paddles before resigning to using its ability to float to land on Alanea's shoulder.

Traffic thickened the further they flew inward. First spotted were a pair of traders painted with gaudy stripes of the carnival colors, and a cluster of barges chained together like a line of prisoners. They were under the escort of a brig with its sails dyed blood red. Once or twice, banners of independent pirate clans showed among them, but they were always being pushed to the edge of the skyway. Everyone was watched by small Carnival gunships at a higher altitude.

Edven hawked and spat over the rail. "We're sailing into a net."

"They don't strike if you don't bite." Kuthe hung over the dockside rail with his mouth open like a dog. "Usually."

Prism had gone quiet in the short time since they left the Radiants behind. It still pulsed now and then, and when it did, he pressed his hand to his pocket. Each of the pulses felt like having an erratic heartbeat. Prism's thoughts felt to Cowel like those of a sleeper still dreaming. "We're not at her court yet."

The serval padded up beside him and stretched its whole body out lengthwise. "You feel it too, huh, Spri?" Cowel spoke softly in a near whisper, stroking the greening wood fiber fur between her ears. He was still getting used to the name and tried it out again under his breath. "Spri." The animal flicked its ear and shook its head from being petted.

Midflight, as the Prospector cleared another span of forested cliff, Edven shouted from out an engine room porthole. "We got canvas cloudside! Low and slow!" A small aeroship in bright red Carnival paint was struggling to close the distance between them. A checkerboard of red and violet was stitched into its sails, indicating that it was a patrol ship. Its hull was lacquered with a dark resin and was pinstriped with a gilded stylized acrobat scene. There were a handful of crewmen on its deck, but they all had crossbows to their sides.

Alanea's hands gripped the throttle lever and slowed the ship down. "Alright, guys! I'm slowing her down! Don't twitch!"

The little sloop swung in close and rose up to get just below the Prospector. This was a matter of courtesy and meant that they didn't intend any harm. It was a third of the Prospector's size and slower, but made agile turns. With a few small maneuvers, it rose a little higher to a man's height below their flight deck. In this position, the Prospector's crew could board them, but not the other way around.

Its crew stared at them with weapons down across the narrow gap. One figure standing on the prow was a few feet higher than the rest. He held a silvered cone to his mouth, and his words carried easily despite their speed.

"Captain Alanea Sulhoat, First Mate Cowel Dorne, Engineer Edven Raive, and Gemer Archivist Kuthe of the Clan of Eliprast; of the Murky Prospector, are summoned by order of our Lady Lillian Von, Queen of the Great Circus." The last syllable lingered, as the sound waves were amplified by the yellow gemstone embedded in the horn.

No threats were spoken, but they had no choices left. Alanea kept her gaze ahead, rigid. "Acknowledged!"

The horn-bearer lowered his device, and his ship fell back just enough to settle astern cloudside. They did not depart. It was now an escort.

Edven groaned, looking back at them. "Ahh, great! We're on a leash."

Kuthe's thick tail curled upward to adjust his hat from behind his head. "This is a better outcome than I had expected. That was very formal of them. They know who I am." He grinned, pleased with how far his name had gone.

Alanea turned the wheel in a better direct bearing toward the Great Circus. "No sudden moves, we'll make them think we're grateful for the escort and fly straight there. Cowel! Go below deck with Edven. Make sure the machine and the cat stay down there."

The Carnival escort rode close enough to them that its crew could be seen shifting about, laughing, even waving mockingly. Once, a man lifted a tankard in salute.

Kuth crouched on the cabin deck rail and tapped his cigar case rhythmically against it. "The queen respects anyone who does something... anything more than beg. It's better for us to walk into this and keep your eyes wide open."

Cowel listened to the captain's orders. Prism was stirring again at the word "summoned", something it thought about frequently. Cowel bit his lip and hid with Edven down in the hot engine room. The serval at first seemed to enjoy the sauna down there, until its leaves started to curl. She promptly lay outside the door, pouting.

The owl-doll fluttered from one of Alanea's shoulders to the other. For once, it didn't perch upright. Instead, it tugged at the edge of its stitched dress's sheer layer of fabric from the back, pulling it overhead. The gauzy cloth draped down, veiling its eyes.

"What are you doing?" Alanea turned over toward the doll, and a dry laugh managed to make it out of her throat.

"It's hiding. Apparently, or miming it. Drawing a veil over itself. She's asking you if you want her to hide too, I think." The kobald lit up a cigar from the case with his red gemstone.

The captain chuckled. "No, but that's not a bad name for you... Veil is pretty... Right?" The owl familiar gave a hoot, which she had only done about a dozen times since being summoned. This was to Alanea a clear and textbook hoot of agreement.

Kuthe tilted his head. "This is an omen. Keygemin naming themselves rarely happens by chance."

Alanea settled her grip on the wheel. "It's not omen... It's practical. I've been looking for an excuse to name her for a while. I'm tired of calling her 'owl'." She tilted her head to rub against the doll. "Besides. Even toys know when they need to cover their eyes."

Time stretched while they were under the escort. The Carnival ship didn't serpentine behind them; it mirrored every bend of the gorge, and every small turn they made in the open span of sky. The Prospector's crew forced themselves to look busy doing idle tasks. Edven tinkered with a perfect working shutter valve. Cowel did the only thing he could, which was to cook a small meal. In between checking and stirring, he brushed and preened Spri's bristly fur. However, every so often their eyes would return again and again to the violet sail that sided them.

Cowel found himself whispering more than once to Prism. "We'll be fine. Just don't show yourself until you're ready." The stone's chaotic flickers of color were cold responses that were absent of the kind of communication he wanted.

Kuthe prowled the cabin deck rail and leaned close enough to the captain so that his voice could reach Alanea without being overheard. "You do know what this means."

She nodded but kept her eyes forward. "That she believes the stone is worth seeing for herself." She tapped her foot nervously against the floorboards. "We had better convince her otherwise." Alanea was not as quiet as Kuthe.

Edven yelled up through the deck floor. "Convince Lillyvon? We'll be lucky if she doesn't hang us, and keep Prism on her bedroom nightst---" The mechanoid took two large steps forward and bumped Edven's side. This caused him to look at the machine with dumbfounded confusion.

At a low volume, the machine spoke. "Stealth is critical to the mission." Then, it pointed a large stone arm in the direction of the craft next to them. Edven had not forgotten the ship, but the fact that there was a crew on its deck.

Alanea was at the helm until Edven insisted on relieving her so that she could eat the warbird and dumpling meal Cowel had prepared. Veil perched on her shoulder as she descended the cloudside ladder down into the galley. The doll still had the cloth drawn over her face, and the captain could not tell if she was being mocked.

Evening came as suddenly as always. This time, they could hear sirens from other places around the sky. Encampments below sounded as they spotted flashing signals in the sky going from ship to ship. Lanterns sparked to life along the many Carnival crafts across the sky. Many preferred lamp oil fires created by red gemin as their light source, which allowed many more small lights on deck. Others had their own lighting schemes, and the skyline lit up a variety of colors.

The Prospector's own harsh white gem lanterns were opened. Their escort had similar lights on board for practical reasons, and additionally a large mirrored spotlight which they pointed toward the Prospector.