Chapter 16 - Your Royal Majesty

The first thing the crew noticed about the approaching Great Circus was its light.

Long before the Murky Prospector cleared past Lilly's Land, specks of the shallow skyline of the conurbations of Lillyvon's Carnival glittered through the dark sky. These tiny sparks of purple, blue, and red light were at the edge of their vision. As the ship climbed in elevation, these sparks became strings, ribbons, and rivers of lanterns strung between towers of stone and steel. Music was faint at that distance, with horns, drums, and cymbals crashing on the crosswind.

Alanea brought the helm to slow, as a fast-moving ship could be a threat, even though they were being escorted. "Home port..." she muttered under he breath with both relief and disdain. "Cowel! Hoist the banner!" Cowel ran out from the galley after struggling for a full bead to remember where they had it stored.

He strung it to the line and pulled it up the midmast. They couldn't fly the carnival colors outside of this territory, as that would get them shot down by every authority ship. Over the carnival, not having them up was suspicious.

The wind tugged at the sails, pulling the ship forward and down, as they cleared the last of Lilly's Land's white rock cliffs. It wasn't long before the skyland of Lillyvon's Carnival was below them. The Great Circus wasn't a single city or town, but was a sprawling sheet of somewhat uniformly spread out shacks and towers. These were small clusters of tents and permanent structures spread out. The towers, which were defensive, each housed a couple of gemite casters which would target incoming threats from the ground.

The Great Circus was this "metropolitan area". The skyland's edges were lined with docks and lookouts. Ladders of rope led up from the low docks, and bridges were used to control land access. The land checkpoints clung to the stony walls like barnacles. Forty redknots from the edge was the center of this skyland. A downtown of sorts, which held the crown royalty of the pirate clan of Lillian Von.

This place was pure turbulence architecturally. Thousands of tents of various colors and makeshift stages were constructed on the street. Single-family homes were painted with murals, many of them depicted street art with both tasteful and untasteful nudity. Pavilions of entertainment were multistory citadels and were the largest structures of the lot.

Violet, red, and gold were the most common colors of all. Since it was night, bursts of light occasionally flared on the skyline as distant fireworks ignited. Chattels of billionaires outlined the downtown area. The cliffs of white stone here floated in massive chunks, and homes were built upon them with private aeroinas. These parked collections of dozens of aeroships belonging to a single estate. These massive chunks of stone hung all across and above he skyland, also with cable-strung, well-maintained bridges between them.

Ships flying through the stones overhead were chaotically ordered into lanes. Smugglers' skips from the clan, large and flat-decked container barges of merchants, and carnival-owned gunships. All of the vessels had long, streaming, rectangular banners that could be entangled into sails. While the circus was a madhouse, it wasn't lawless. Lillian's laws were respected here, as free as they were.

Edven rose out onto the deck, wiping his hands on his grease rag. "No matter how many times I see it, the city dolls herself up prettier than the last." Alanea rolled her eyes, as she already knew what Edven would be doing the moment they landed.

Kuthe had spent most of the overnight hours staring at the escort ship. "You can spray perfume over the rot, and you can throw a blanket over it. Eventually, you'll still have to clean it up. Don't let this place fool you. It is, after all, a place for fools."

Cowel tightened up the banner rope he'd left a little loose. He'd lived here before, after his teenage years, if only in passing. The sprawl below was a sanctuary and a trap. Once they land, the pirates and smugglers had full control over the Prospector. The closer they drifted into the pavilions, the heavier his chest felt. Prism was, of course, restless as if it knew of the skyland's reputation.

"Pier Two!" A booming amplified voice vibrated the deck, coming from the escort ship. Alanea followed the order, and the owl on her shoulder whistled and chirped, upset at the sudden noise. Alanea rested her head up against the plush's wing absently and adjusted the ship's elevation and trim levers.

With a neutral volume, barely audible over the surrounding wind, Alanea gave her final airborne order. "Don't pull any stunts. Keep yourself straight. Everyone is going to disembark." The dockworks rose in tiers, lining up in rough levels to their most reasonable with the floating stone. Carnival banners snapped around every mooring. Dockhands baulked at each other in Coopracian, with voices difficult to discern from the music around them playing in multiple languages.

The Prospector was lowered down into a large shipyard dug into the ground, able to park a ship a hundred times their size. The captain cut the engines and stepped away from the helm wheel. "Alright, everyone, let's go." She looked back at Cowel, who was petting his serval companion. "Cowel, the keygemin are coming too. Edven, that means the stone man also."

"Where to?" Edvan was bringing up the mechanoid from below deck.

"We will be going directly to Lilly. She'll have heard we landed already." Alanea was with Cowel, dropping the gangplank. As it thumped down, the owl perched on her shoulder jumped and landed on her head. Alanea would normally wear a tricorn hat when pulling into port, but opted not to when visiting the queen. She figured it made her look less suspicious. Veil sat on her head like a crown with her stuffed legs crossed, patting the top of Alanea's head with its padded wingtips.

The captain, Edven, Cowel and the serval with Prism in his coat pocket, Kuthe, and an eight-foot-high pearlescent stone golem crossed the flat gangplank and stepped to the ground.

The environment around them was populated by jugglers throwing knives into the air, fire twirlers, and mimes. Gema was tossed into and around the hats on the ground near them. Painted women learned from doorways not far from the landing basin, beckoning men, and approaching them with half-lidded eyes; often under the effects of some substance. Gamblers shouted odds from closed tents a few blocks away, as the chiming of cast dice into porcelain bowls echoed into large open ceilings. A high-pitched handbell was rung as a winner snatched up their share, cheering. On a nearby stage, beyond rafters of seated viewers, a troupe of masked actors enacted a play. They clashed their wooden blades, and the crowd laughed in unison.

Edven's eyes were on the women and dancers on the street. "Edven!" Alanea embarrassingly rasped the side of his arm with the hilt of her rapier.

"It's my money, I can spend it however I please." His eyes were locked on a particularly well-endowed woman getting close enough to him to almost stroke his chin as they passed by at a level walking speed. To whom he mouthed the word "later...".

They walked up an incline to the higher ground level. Guards clad in carnival colors patrolled lazily. The handles of their trident-like polearms were polished to an unreasonable sheen. The middle spike of the trident was three times the length of the others, with its far spikes forming a bow shape at the base. All three of its tips were parallel. Hundreds of these could be seen sticking up through the crowd and outside doorways. One nodded to Alanea as they passed, and he smiled beneath his ceramic face mask. Cowel muttered unkind words toward him under his breath.

A grand pavilion stood at the top of the hill. Instead of a single tent, it was the fusion of dozens, stitched together into a ring shape. The cloth of this structure was mostly red. It had accents of purple and was embroidered with gold thread and wire. From up on the hill, the fire-eaters spitting out into the night were especially visible. Acrobats wearing skysurfers flew through the air performing a dance piece. The crowd oohed and ahhed, impressed by the display.

Alanea strode through the beaded curtain without flinching. The owl parted the beads, wiping over with her wings. The rest of the train of crewmen followed suit into the pavilion ring.

The inside was unfathomably opulent.

The ring around them contained many padded surfaces, beds, chairs, and pits sunk into grouted tile filled with hot water. Most of these padded areas were empty. Those that weren't were occupied by some well-kept tables topped with natural intoxicating leaves, processed drugs like and opiates and azora, as well as alcohol and stines. Other occupied beds were adorned with people, mostly women. They were actively having sex in parts, sapphic, tantric, and yogic.

At the center of the ring was a throne hall that stretched across its diameter. Its rafters were strung with spherical paper lanterns with a golden hue. Musicians played soft music from alcoves around the pavilion. On a raised and stepped dias, draped in crimson and gold embroidered silk, lounged Queen Lillian Von. She was smoking from a thin, foot and a half long, ornate chibouk tobacco pipe.

Of the skin she actually had covered, she wore a top tightly concealing her modest chest. At the center was ornate jewelry of ruby and gold. Her long silk skirt was equally gilded with small, fine chains and large rubies. A thick-banded choker collar wrapped her neck, and small gold-plated bells chimed as she shifted even slightly. Some of her hair was pulled up into a bun behind her tiara, threaded with ribbons of red silk. On her feet were high heels, sequined with the smallest of flattened gold coins.

Her lips curled in a wide, coquettish smile as her eyes passed over Alanea's body predatorily. Behind her throne was a strange entity of impossible darkness and size. It was scaled, feathered, plated, and oily. Its head rolled at an angle impossible for natural life. It appeared eyeless but had numerous diamond-toothed mouths. Despite its lack of eyes, it was obvious that its attention was trained on Cowel's coat pocket.

Alanea dropped to one knee, which was more of a bow than she had intended. "Lady Von". The others followed clumsily, presenting some courtesy. Even the keygemin kneeled before the queen, and before Kuthe had.

Lillian laughed, high and delighted. "Lady Von, she calls me! She forgets I am a queen." She rose with a sweeping leg and her bells jingling. She sauntered slackly down the steps. "Your... Royal... Majesty..." She paused threateningly. "Captain Alanea Sulhoat, boldest and coldest prospector under my crown. Strutting into my home with your crew, straining like actors who forgot their lines. I do cherish you all."

She mitted her hand with a tightly fitting silk anti-foul glove, then traced a line down Alanea's cheek with her index finger. "You have a story for me. Mmm, tell me captain. Are you here to flatter me with a gift?" She kneeled down to Alanea, who was still on one knee, at eye level. "Do I have to chase you for it? It's not often I have to work to get what I want."

Alanea straightened up to stand, which was a defiant and dangerous maneuver. The monstrosity lurking behind the throne took a step, if you could call it that, forward. "I do have a report for you... your royal majesty."

"ooooh---" Lillian twirled slowly in a complete circle, with her skirt flaring upward in a way that was incompatible with natural law, and the effect of some magical force. "Do tell. I want to see this pretty little thing everyone is talking about." The monstrosity behind her throne blinked the entire room into perfect darkness for the length of one of Cowel's erratic heartbeats. The darkness collected around the queen's neck and chest.

She took confident steps toward Cowel, who was still kneeling, and squatted down to his level. With a single gloved finger, she pointed toward his coat pocket. "The Prism, let me see it."

Edven froze. His eyes flicked toward Alanea. Alanea's shoulders squared. "The stone is not set, so displaying it in its raw state is unsafe. We need to set it before we can evaluate it fully." She looked toward Kuthe and spoke on his behalf. "Kuthe is one of the most talented gemer's on this side of the world."

The entire hall hushed. Even the pleasured moans of women who made most of the ambient noise up to this point. Lillian's smile did not flounder even a little, but her head cocked to the side and the bells from her neck chimed. "Unsafe. Unsafe?... Unsafe for me?" She tilted her head back to the extremely powerful keygemin behind her throne.

Kuthe spoke softly. "I apologize for speaking out of turn, your majesty. The stone is unsafe for everyone until it is set. When it is set, you will be the first to see it."

Silenced stretched for a couple of shallow breaths. Lillian laughed and split the tension by gently slapping her thigh. "Perfect! She makes me wait. She makes me hunger for a feast soon to come... I'm hungry." She snapped toward one of the young adult women servants who was more scantily clad than even her, with her ungloved hand. "Get me something."

The musicians crashed into discordant cheer and returned to playing their ambient music. Another servant was replacing the copious amounts of smoke-generating incense next to the dias. Other enveloping sounds soon resumed. Alanea returned to a kneeling position with every one of her muscles stiff.

Lillian lay back on her bed throne with her legs dangling over one side of its cushioned surface. Bells on the chains around her wrists pinged as she waved her hand. "That's enough for one night. You've bored me, and boredom makes me insensitive." Her eyes darted over to Alanea, which remained acute despite her constant sociopathic smile.

"Pretend you are free tonight. Drink, celebrate, gamble, and please yourselves. I will be watching." She lay back into the velvety comfort of her seat. "A queen needs a lot of beauty sleep." She motioned with the back of her hand to invite one of her attractive young retainers into bed with her. Then, with a similar wave of her hand, she indicated that it was time for the crew to leave.

Alanea turned on her heels before anything else could be demanded from them. They had arrived at a good time. The queen was tired and would be resting until midday. Edven followed, stumbling slightly as the courtiers were gratifying each other around them. Their occasional laughter sought embarrassment from the group, who were wise to this.

A man in a restrictive black leather harness pushed a crystal glass containing bourbon into Edven's hands. Kuthe snarled lowly in his throat as the man grinned while backing off. The bourbon was nutty and of high quality, and Edven knew it would be before putting it to his lips. There was a small chance it was spiked, but at that moment, he didn't care.

They walked at a pace just slightly faster than normal, and made their way out the bead curtain at the front of the pavilion. As they descended the hill, the tent fell behind them. All of the guards around were attentive to their presence. As they descended, a few of the guards glanced toward Cowel's coat pocket. It was clear that they were informed of its existence. Only their loyalty to the queen would keep an individual soldier from defecting to obtain it.

Cowel muttered. "Don't like the way they're looking."

A spritely doe-eyed girl quickly dashed up to Edven. She was short and leaned down, grasping her thighs to intentionally expose her cleavage and pop her rear end out. "Try your luck, sailor! Three cups, one stone! Find the prize, and win me!" She winked toward him flirtatiously.

Edven half-reached out before Alanea's hand clamped down on his arm. "Not tonight."

He winced. "I wasn't going to---". The captain's glare silenced any further protest.