Knock, knock, knock, went Adeena’s fingers against the thick oak door. She waited for a moment, before trying again: knock, knock, knock.

  “I know you’re in there, your squire said you were!” called Adeena.

  There was the sound of angry footsteps, and the door opened to reveal a puffy eyed, clearly distraught looking Ser Samara. Her hair was a mess, she had only around half her armour on. As she pulled the door back Adeena could see that her room had been trashed: tables were upturned, the stuffing had been clawed out of an armchair, and her claymore was stuck halfway through the wall up near the ceiling.

  “Have you come to gloat, Captain?” hissed the woman. “Taunt me for my powerlessness in the face of your infernal trickery, perhaps?”

  “We’re coming,” said Adeena.

  The feyleen woman paused. “What?” she said.

  “We’re coming,” said Adeena.

  Ser Samara stared at her for a moment, before she rushed forward and wrapped her in a crushing hug.

  “Thank-you,” she whispered. “Thank-you.”

  Then the feyleen seemed to realised what she was doing and pulled back, schooling her features into their normal, put-together mask.

  “Excellent,” she said. “Although, I am confused-”

  “We’ll need a new contract,” said Adeena, speaking over her. “And, going forward, we have new ground rules. No more using me as a catspaw. You let me know what the risks are to me and my people, as far as you can tell. I don’t care if it ‘sabotages’ your plots. Understood?”

  “You have my word-”

  “No,” said Adeena, pulling out a contract she’d prepared a few minutes earlier. “I’ll have your signature.”

  The feyleen chittered with laughter. “You know,” she said, accepting it. “I never even suspected. Have you considered a career in the Imperial Bureaucracy? Unbreakable contracts would be useful.”

  Adeena didn’t say anything, waiting as the feyleen carefully read through the as straightforward as she could manage low elvish legalese that Adeena had written it in.

  “I have no objections,” said Ser Samara after a moment, pulling her fountain pen from her pocket. “Although I do note you’ve doubled your fee.”

  "Adjusted for the increased risk,” said Adeena.

  The feyleen snickered as she signed and dated it with a flourish, handing it back to Adeena, who did the same.

  She duplicated the contract and offered one to Ser Samara. “For your records,” she said.

  “Excellent,” said Ser Samara, visibly relaxing. “In that case, I will see you next period – I require sleep. We can discuss contingencies and how we might mitigate the risks posed by Melicende and her cronies.”

  “Until then,” said Adeena.

  “Sleep well, my friend,” said Ser Samara, squeezing Adeena’s arm. “And again, thank-you. I will remember this.”

  “Uh, you too,” said Adeena awkwardly.

  ***

  Clawdia turned up literally minutes before they were set to leave for Aeviexistrixia’s manor. She simply sauntered into the room, and without so much as a ‘sorry for disappearing Captain,’ flopped onto the bed as they were packing their bags and making all the final preparations to leave.

  In their last period before the expedition they’d managed to do a bit more shopping, and, when Heidi had refused to shut up about it, visited the public part of the Imperium Academy of the Arcane’s library. Despite the supposed pledge for Melicende to not try to kill them anymore, they had worn their armour, and stayed on guard. Nothing had happened though, indicating that if Melicende was going to try something, it was going to be on the expedition.

  “Hmm… not very comfortable,” complained Clawdia, rolling over onto her front.

  “Where have you been?” said Adeena, grabbing the truculent Grimalkin by the scruff of her neck and hauling her into the air. “I didn’t know if you were dead or not!”

  “Meow! Let us go!” yowled Clawdia, taking a swipe at Adeena. “Let us go!”

  Adeena dropped her and put her hands on her hips. “Since when does it take you an entire phase to find a feyroad to where you want to go?” she said. “Do you know how badly I could have used a sorceress the past few periods?”

  Feyroads were paths between the Real and the Feywilde that Grimalkin were experts at finding and navigating. It was possible to take other people with them, but those people weren’t natives of the Feywild, and might accidentally step off the narrow path and find themselves lost forever in a stretch of woods, or else cursed by gazing into the wrong pond. Adeena had walked the paths once, and she had no intention of ever repeating the experience.

  The Feyroads led, theoretically, to just about anywhere there was at least some kind of nature. It was far from an exact science, and they shifted constantly, but Clawdia had never needed more than a handful of periods to find her way between two places in the Real. And that was taking into account her tendency to get distracted and wander off.

  “Trouble in the ‘Wilde,” muttered Clawdia, sitting on the bed, taking a boot off, and scratching her chin with her clawed foot. “We couldn’t take the fast way.”

  “Trouble?” said Adeena, frowning. “What kind of trouble?”

  The Feywilde was a realm of chaos. The denizens operated by strange, unintelligible logics and bizarre codes of conducts; there was constant battle between the Night and Dreaming courts; and the fundamental rules of reality could switch at a moment’s notice. Wasn’t there always trouble in the Feywilde?

  “Big breach with the Shadowmeere,” sniffed Clawdia. “Even the courts stopped fighting for a while.”

  A breach? Into the Feywilde? Adeena hadn’t thought that kind of thing was possible. Breaches happened into the Real from the other planes, but not between the other planes. Or at least, that wasn’t something she’d ever heard of – and she had a better understanding of the planes than most. Planar travel was always difficult, and never on such a large scale as the breaches that had come in the wake of the Wyrd. Even Pandemonium, the masters of inter-planar travel, had never been able to launch a proper invasion of their hated enemies, the Gods and Godlings of Elysium.

  “Alright, well, you’re here now,” said Adeena. “Good to see you, glad you’re OK.”

  Clawdia made a vaguely affirmative noise and continued to scratch and bathe herself as the others finished their preparations.

  They needed special passes to get onto the twelfth tier, and another to approach Aeviexistrixia’s manor, which was checked over with excruciating detail, even though Adeena was sure she recognised one of the household guard from her first visit.

  The manor was abuzz with activity, with workers loading masses of supplies onto the Firestorm, which had landed on the lawn. The silver hull of the ship gleamed in the orange light of the Dawning which shone down from the lightning sky visible overhead. Now that it was out of the cliffside dock, Adeena could see just how different it was from a normal sky-ship.

  Although there were side-masts, there was nothing but a large flat deck divided into three tiers, on top. The bridge, too, was not in the traditional place at the upper back of the ship. Instead it seemed to be worked into the prow at the front, which, now that she saw it, she found it hard to believe no one had ever thought of before.

  Worked into the stern and set off to either side were two massive horizontal cylinders. Open at the back, and with a crystalline section near the front, through which the flickering orange light of bound fire-elementals could be seen. The ‘afterburners’ that Ser Samara had mentioned. It looked patently unsafe, but, apparently, it wasn’t.

  The sides of the craft had been opened onto the lower cargo deck, and there were gangplanks to the middle decks that seemed to be where the quarters were located. Adeena spied Aeviexistrixia on the deck, walking around with Melicende in tow, the sea elf ticking things off on a checklist as the dragon talked and gesticulated wildly.

  There was also a familiar goblin standing on the grass near the gangplank, directing cargo and supplies.

  “Captain Bloodmoon?” said Adeena.

  “Ah, Captain Yassin,” said the small woman, offering her hand. “Good to see you again.”

  “What are you doing here?” said Adeena.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Asking myself the same thing,” said Bloodmoon. “Got the letter just a trance ago, giving me the offer. I can hardly believe it – they don’t normally give new commands when you lose a ship, least of all less than a cycle later. Apparently, the Captain they had lined up for the expedition got arrested for embezzlement? All the officers too? It’s going to be a real scandal when it hits the papers.”

  Adeena frowned and looked up onto the deck, where Ser Samara was standing and watching the proceedings. The feyleen woman spotted her, and gave a cheery wave.

  ‘Embezzelment,’ huh? More like Ser Samara found a Captain who she could count on to side with her over Melicende, and decided to make a whole host of probably innocent people’s lives very difficult to get what she wanted.

  “I’d have liked to be able to do a shakedown cruise,” muttered Bloodmoon. “New crew, new officers, new ship, but the silver Lady says we’re going, so, I guess we’re going.” The Goblin smiled. “Glad to have you along though Captain, never got to thank-you for saving me, the other survivors.”

  “You fought, you saved yourselves,” said Adeena.

  “You got us the rifles, and charged a horde of Vodyanoy,” said the woman. “Can’t believe you survived that explosion spell of yours. I’ve got a lot of work to do, but once we’re out of the Seatstorm I should have a bit of time – let’s have a drink? Lady has the Captain’s cabin, of course, but I’m in the first officer’s – right opposite yours, what’s normally the Quartermaster’s. Ser Samara must hold you in high regard, it’s a better one than the Lady’s Seneschal, that Melicende, gets.”

  “Or maybe Samara holds the seneschal in low regard?” said Adeena.

  Bloodmoon glanced around and nodded slightly. “Indeed,” she said softly.

  They made their way up the gangplank, passing the more utilitarian parts of the ship, up into the crew section, through the rather impressive mess-hall, and then into what was clearly the officer’s area. There were only three suites in total, the Captain’s – or, in this case, Aeviexistrixia’s cabin; the First Officer’s, which was Bloodmoon’s; and then the Quartermaster’s Cabin, which was theirs.

  It was obvious that they had been given it because Ser Samara wanted to have her ‘troops’ close – she seemed to be staying in the Captain’s cabin with the little dragon, but there was no way that anyone would miss the massive snub that it was to put a bureaucrat as senior as Melicende down in the non-officer’s section.

  The cabin was on the starboard side, and spacious even for four people, with a common room that had clearly had four beds added to it, and a small bedroom that, as per Captain’s prerogative, Adeena claimed as her own. It had its own bathroom, its own kitchenette, a lounge, a table, and a writing desk, as well as wide windows that were currently looking out over the manor’s lake. It was nicer than her Captain cabin back when she’d commanded a galleon.

  “Well, this is nice!” said Heidi, bouncing on her bed. “And a big table!”

  “Please don’t cover this one in grease,” groaned Xavier, shoving his bag underneath his chosen bed.

  “Don’t need to – did you see, this ship has a workshop,” said Heidi. “Its own forge! Talk about swish!”

  “Remember, this isn’t a holiday,” said Adeena. “We need to be on guard at all times. Clawdia, I want you on watch when we’re asleep. Also, put up some wards on the room.”

  “But what about our sleep?” complained Clawdia, sprawling on one of the couches. “The Captain Adeena Yassin never thinks of us!”

  “You don’t actually need it,” said Adeena. “And you can nap when we’re awake. I also want everyone in at least breastplates whenever they leave the cabin. And armed, that goes without saying.”

  “You really think that Melicende will try something?” said Heidi.

  “Samara does,” said Adeena.

  “What could she actually try, though?” said Xavier. “What is there to do out in the Wyrdwastes? I mean, assume she kills Ser Samara and gets away with it – the dragons will just put in some other crazy with a sword to be the dragon’s bodyguard. Hardly seems worth all the risk of these plots and such.”

  “No idea,” said Adeena. “Maybe Samara’s just being paranoid over nothing, maybe this whole thing is resolved, maybe we go, do the job, and then come back with a few bags of gold. But let’s not bank on it, OK?”

  ***

  Passage back through Seatstorm was smoother in the Firestorm, and she solved the Clawdia yowling problem by kicking her out of the cabin. Well, it didn’t solve the problem, but it made it someone else’s.

  She emerged with the others, apart from Clawdia, who was sulking, onto the deck after they passed through the perpetual thunderstorm and into the brilliant sunlight of the Dawning. The great arc of the Allfather shone orange and pink. The air was still bitingly cold, but the sunlight was warm.

  The flat borderlands beneath were blanketed in glittering drifts of snow from eastern to western horizon, broken only by the massive, now snow-covered fortresses that like the rest of Ruvera had endured the freezing long night, and from which plumes of smoke wafted as the last of the nightfires that had kept their inhabitants alive burned down.

  There was, however, one feature of the landscape that bore no signs of the long night. Standing like black monoliths in the stark landscapes, the unimaginably tall Wardstones scraped the sky, reaching high enough that even the high-flying Seat of the Stars could have crashed into them. They were kilometres wide and deep, with even symmetrical sides.

  Blazing with a million runes, and drawing energy directly from the ground beneath in massive arcs of lightning, the Wardstones were capped in immense crystalline orbs, connected to one another by beams of light, and which, together, created whatever magic held back the Wyrd. There were a hundred and twenty seven of them, spaced evenly across the peninsula’s ‘neck,’ and they were, bar none, the single largest feat of construction that had ever been accomplished on Ruvera, and were said to have taken over thirty cycles of the dragons who would go on to form the Imperium working together virtually non-stop. A feat of magi-tek engineering so vast and powerful in scope that it had saved the world from destruction. Or at least, a bit of it.

  Compared to them, the Firestorm was a tiny, inconsequential spec, and although Bloodmoon kept them well away from the immense spires, they still made Adeena feel even smaller than when she had been talking to Lord Adamantius.

  “How do they work?” asked Xavier, taking a sip from a hip flask before offering it to Adeena. She accepted, and took a swig: it wasn’t bad, rice-wine mixed with some kind of berry. Sweet.

  “No one knows!” said Heidi. “Lots of people at the university have written papers, some think that it might be creating an immense shield array that’s just too big for us to properly see!”

  There was a chortle of laughter behind them, and Adeena looked back to see the small, kimono wrapped form of Lady Aeviexistrixia’s elven guise and, looming at her shoulder, Ser Samara.

  “No,” said the small dragon. “That’s silly!”

  “Oh,” said Heidi in a dejected voice. “Is it?”

  “Of course!” said Lady Aeviexistrixia, gesturing to the massive monoliths. “Just look, isn’t it obvious?”

  Heidi stared at them for a moment. “Um, it’s not, sorry,” she said, a little bit crestfallen.

  “Obviously it’s strengthening Ontological Constant in the local area,” said Lady Aeviexistrixia.

  “I’ve… never heard of that,” said Heidi.

  “Really? Haven’t you?” said the dragon child, before her face reddened. “Oh, um, sorry… we haven’t told mortals about that yet, have we? Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be mature enough to learn about it soon!”

  “‘Mature enough?’” said Xavier. “I’d wager I’m a lot older than you, kid.”

  There a was a low, warbling growl from Ser Samara, whose glare was almost physical in its intensity.

  “I mean… your dragoniness,” added Xavier. The growl stopped.

  “Oh yes, yes,” said Lady Aeviexisitrixia, waving a hand airily. “Not you specifically, Mr. Xavier. But mortals generally. Mother has a timetable for your development; you’re doing quite well! She actually sped things up recently: soon you’ll be learning about the Principle of Synchronicity!”

  “The what?” said Heidi, her ears perking up.

  “Oh, um…” said Aeviexistrixia. “Well, it’s something you’ll learn about soon!”

  Adeena frowned. “So you have knowledge you don’t share about magic? Even with Althaea?” she said. “I thought you were allies?”

  “Well, of course we don’t share everything,” said Aeviexistrixia. “It can be disastrous when advanced magical knowledge is given to primitive mortals, you know?” She sobered. “Um, no offence – you’re doing really well!”

  “As a representative of primitive mortals, some taken,” said Xavier.

  “But you can’t be that far ahead,” said Heidi. “Althaea is starting to build our own sky-ships. They’re not as good as yours… but we’re not that far behind.”

  “That’s only because we limit-” began Aeviexistrixia.

  “My Lady, do you remember the discussion you had with your mother,” said Ser Samara, cutting in delicately. “About the need to not reveal the extent of your people’s knowledge? I think you’ve given the good Ms. Hammerschmidt quite enough breadcrumbs for a thesis or two.”

  “Oh, right…” said Aeviexistrixia. “Um, sorry Sammy.”

  “It’s alright, my Lady, just remember you need to be responsible with what you know,” said Ser Samara, squeezing the little dragon’s shoulder. “Now, I heard that the chef was making Moon-cakes – shall we go and see if they’re ready?”

  “Oooh! Moon-cakes!” said the young dragon, leaving so quickly that her feet literally left the ground, Samara striding quickly in tow.

  “Wonderful,” said Xavier, lightning a cigarette. “So the lizards are holding back? Just wonderful.”

  “I mean… I’ve heard rumours,” said Heidi. “You don’t think she was just messing with us?”

  “I don’t think Aeviexistrixia knows how to mess with people,” said Adeena. “She’s a child. A smart child, but still a child.”

  Heidi seemed to slump.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Adeena.

  “It’s nothing,” said Heidi, leaning against the gunwale and staring ahead to the southern horizon, where the first visible signs of the Wyrd could be seen.

  Ahead of the ship the white, snowy plains slowly gave way to a kaleidoscope of different landscapes: in one place to a verdant green and blue and pink forest, in another, a shattered red hellscape, and elsewhere, a twisted, gloomy mire. The sky above the areas, up to around a thousand or so feet – far below them – was cracked and shattered, with great cracks and rips through which could be seen, more distant, alien landscapes – mountain-ranges, oceans of lava, endless caverns.

  The different dimensions pushed and pulled at each other across the face of Ruvera, and even as she watched she was another crack open up within a shadowy plain, through which poured white light that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

  “So… that’s the Wyrd?” said Adeena.

  She’d never seen it firsthand. She’d fled the continent long before the dimension shattering wave of the Wyrd had hit, aboard her first ship – the Azure Pearl. It had been tiny cutter that was armed with a pair of ballistas on the decking: cutting edge, for the day, since cannons hadn’t even been invented. It had been crushed by the tentacles of a juvenile Kraken some hundred cycles later, but she had loved that ship.

  No, her familiarity with the Wyrd had been the wave of refugees fleeing it, and the desperate bands of ragged survivors, the proto-states, the banditry and all the brutality of desperate people struggling to survive in the remnants of a dead world. Over the cycles it had gotten marginally better, but the whole world still dwelt in the long shadow of the Calamity, of the coming of the Wyrd, when the Continent had been destroyed and turned into a vast uninhabitable wasteland. Yes, she knew the shadow the Wyrd had cast, but not the thing itself.

  “Looks like,” said Xavier darkly. “Feywilde, Shadowmeer, and…”

  He glanced around, making sure they were alone.

  “And home sweet home, Captain.”

  “Huh?” said Heidi.

  “Xavier,” said Adeena sharply. “You mind?”

  “What are you…?” said Heidi, before her eyes widened. “Of course, you’re a Cam- well, you’re… you know. Oh, wow! You grew up in Pandemonium!?”

  “Heidi… can you please go and ask Aeviexistrixia for a dictionary,” said Adeena.

  “What? Um, I mean, I can-”

  “So you can look up the word ‘discretion,’” said Adeena, lowering her voice. “Telling people I grew up in… that place is worse than telling them what I am.”

  “You- you really grew up in P- in that place?” said Heidi. “Wow!”

  “No, not ‘wow.’ It fucking sucks,” said Adeena. “And, if we’re very lucky, we will manage to stay out of any of it for this entire expedition.”

  “We’re not that lucky, Captain,” said Xavier. “But, hey, maybe you’ll get to see your brother again?”

  Adeena glared at him and snatched the hip flask from his hand. “I hate you."

  A.N. As always, my is two chapters ahead.

  called '' which is available to read as a free member. Future parts will also be free, but with chapters available two weeks ahead for supporters. I do plan on putting it up here on Royal Road, but I need to sort out getting some cover art for it first.