My Writing Blog

Then she remembered seeing the city from the outside, a memory almost from a past life, it stood out from the serenity of the landscape around it like a jagged, blackened shard of bone, torn up through the skin of the world around it. She had stared at it through the dim haze of evening light, confused by its unnatural scale; it was so uniform that only at a greater distance, like the one she had viewed it from, did it look natural. She didn’t know many things, but she did know that the universe didn’t work that way, one could look almost infinitely close and never see the regularity of it all. Then her memory went black.

No. Not black.

Blank.

 On the way back up Deo dismounted from the funicular after only about five hundred metres. Now he was at the sub-street level, above him were more major roads and above them the busy highways that snaked their way through the city like the veins of some great beast. But down here the roads were relatively quiet, only a few vehicles passing by each second.

He only had to wait for a few minutes for his desired transport to arrive, a public vehicle, built like an elegant segmented beast and hanging down from the tracks on the roof above with a series of strong mechanical legs. Waiting at its roadside station he stood back from the edge, not wanting to be caught by the fast moving face of the incoming machine.

Its wide doors opened and he stepped inside, it was nearly five metres wide on the interior, with seats lining the walls and an island of them in the middle, it was meant to seat many more people than it currently held, but being down on the lower streets meant that many of the seats were empty. Compared to the well maintained funiculars, this vehicle was in a much worse state; chewing gum was plastered to the walls and floor, their metal surfaces beginning to display the rusted signs of decay.

In many ways, Madeo preferred this vehicle, to him it felt more homely and, oddly, comfortable.

He sat down in one of the island seats, facing forward to the head of the first car, the viewscreen at the front was a clear sheet of Vitretal, and on it was displayed all of the details of the transport, including a map of the city district and small blips along the lines of the roads that depicted where it would stop. His journey lasted for around ten minutes, heading deeper into the gradually rising walls of the canyon that made up the city, and eventually the tracks they travelled along began to curve around, slowly lifting the train up above it with the mechanical legs rotating on gyroscoped bearings that wrapped around its shell.

As it spun the metal rings quietly shrieked against the hull, the machine, noticing its passengers’ displeasure at the noise, issued an automated reply, though none aboard really paid any attention.

Once they were upright on the track, travelling along the side of the main highways, more people began to embark, they were mostly people heading to work, though a few were more evidently sightseeing around the unique spectacle that was the stacked city. There were even some Kiiri people risking heading into the hostile territory that was a human city after their war, their bluish scaled skin glinting in the lights of the city, and coppery hair shimmering like a mirage.

Unfortunately, the transport had been primarily designed for humans and so the Kiiri had to keep shuffling uncomfortably in their seats as their elegant frames had difficulty staying in one place.

One of the Kiiri, a female by the looks of things, with spiky orange plumage coming from around her head and large dark eyes, cocked her head to one side as she caught him looking at them from the corner of his eye. She had attempted to raise one side of her brow in replication of the human expression of confusion, but instead ended up looking rather scornful. Or perhaps that was the expression she was attempting to achieve. Deo spent the rest of the journey looking out of the window to avoid her confusing glare.

The city seemed to fly past, tall towers filling his view like the bars of an immense prison, all around them the sound of the bustle that came with the inner city was muffled through their carriages thick walls. Eventually they came to a stop next to a building near the bottom of the city, its squat frame overshadowed by the looming giants around it. They were on a long straight section of one of the middle roads and the traffic was noisy now that it was nearing midday. The sun peeked down from high above them, managing to illuminate this small section of the land as it did. Stepping off the vehicle, Madeo held his breath as long as he could, the heavy fumes of the many restaurants and diners around him permeating his nose with odours from so many cultures, the spices of the Oriental Earth, the meats of the West, and the varied fruits found on Kiril.

As his face grew flushed he decided to finally breathe, all of the many scents assaulting him at once, his eyes had even begun to sting from the traces of pepper juices that were sent tumbling through the canyon zephyrs. He was granted a short moments respite as the tram moved on, carrying a draft of wind with it and giving him a clear breath, or at least as clear as it was possible to get down in the guts of the city.

Once the sound of rails creaking had receded Madeo heard the sound of light footsteps approaching behind him, though he ignored it, and began to set off in his intended direction. He had only travelled a short distance when a voice, soft spoken on the wind, called out to him.

“Excuse me.” It said, and he turned to see the woman from earlier, standing taller than him at over six feet.

“Why do you stare at us on the cart?” She continued in broken English. “Are you not in accustom to seeing Kiiri?”

Madeo instantly recognised her accent as belonging to the small subcontinent that they were on now, where he had spent most of his childhood.

And so he replied in the local tongue, “Certainly not in this part of the city, there are many here who dislike the Kiiri.”

The woman looked pleasantly surprised to hear her own language from a human, and seemed to relax as she decided to stop speaking in the difficult alien language. “Are you one of those people?” She enquired, her accent sounding rather formal.

Madeo rolled his shoulders over from the back, the Kiiri way of shaking one’s head, and gave her a smile, thankfully an expression common to both people. “Not at all,” He assured, “I was merely looking since it is so rare to see someone other than a human here. My apologies if I seemed in any way rude.”

Now it was her turn to roll her shoulders, “There is no need for apologies friend, I was just intrigued as to your expression, many humans tend to only look upon us with sneers.”

Madeo sighed, looking forlornly down to the ground, then raising his head again to meet her eyes as he spoke. “Well, I’m afraid that’s the way things are with my kind. The hearts of men are fickle things, they don’t let go of their prejudices with much ease.” He gestured with his head in the direction they were both initially heading, implying that he would rather walk whilst they talked so as not to be late to his work.

She nodded, her longer strides allowing her to catch up with the shorter man almost instantly. “But you do not hold on to them?”

“I do hold on yes, but my prejudices were of another nature. I grew up equally among Humans and Kiiri, so to me both races were equal. They still are now, even though things have happened that would normally make a man lose them; that’s perhaps a topic for another time however. Maybe I’m just stubborn.”

It was Kiiri custom to not pry into one’s past as might a human, and for that Madeo was glad since that always stopped him talking with his own kind.

“Yet with such a calming face? Humans continue to confuse me with their manner.” She looked genuinely puzzled for a minute, whether she was aware of the backhanded compliment she had given, Madeo didn’t know.

“Tell me,” He inquired after they had walked for a few metres in silence, “What brings you down to this part of the city? Sightseeing? Because if so, there isn’t really much around this part of town to look at.”

“Actually, I have some problems with a machine in my house that I am unsure of how to repair, there’s a company nearby that would be able to do it for me. Or so I’m told.” She trailed off at the end, noticing the small smirk on Madeo’s face. “I don’t understand, what is funny?”

Madeo smiled, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the small jacket within; he held it up to show her the logo of an angular wrench inside a globe, the very crude depiction of Kirils geography highlighted in black. “You mean this company by any chance?”

She looked at the fabric for a second, an expression of realisation dawning on her face. Or at least, that’s what Madeo though it was, they had entered into a wide dimly lit pathway, the low levels of the buildings above curving up like a grand arched tunnel, and it was difficult to make out her features properly. The only light around them was coming through sporadic gaps in the building walls above them and the neon shopfronts to either side.

“You work for this company?” She enquired, even though the answer was already very obvious. “That’s excellent; it’s always good to have a friend help you with your problems.”

Madeo pulled off his overcoat and pulled one arm into his thin work jacket, they were nearing the office now and he’d rather not get shouted at again for not wearing the uniform in through the door. “Well, that’s if my boss lets me take the job; he may have other work lined up for me.”

They approached the front door of the building, it’s frame surrounded by a faintly glowing sheet of orange acrylic, the company logo was set in the negative space cutout of a frosted glass window at head height, or at the very least his head height.

Madeo pulled on the door handle, opening it towards them and then waving his new friend inside – she had to stoop so as not to hit her head on the top of the frame – before following her through.

“Lennox, you’re in on time for once.” A voice piped up from one side, behind a nearby corner in the wall. They walked around, Deo now leading the way, to face the receptionist at her desk.

“Hey Jaqui, the boss in?” He replied in English, handing her his coat, which she took and quickly put away in a space below her desk.

“Yeah, he’s not in too good a mood though, Mikey called in sick and Sam didn’t turn up. Again.” She sighed at the last word, rolling her eyes.

“When’d his shift start?” He walked over to the lockers at the back wall, opening his one and pulling out the belt and toolbag from inside.

“Half past eight, so it looks like you’re the only one here today, good job it’s quiet eh?” Then she looked over to the tall woman who stood awkwardly to one side. “Who’s your friend?”

Madeo had just finished attaching the belt to his waist, and made a show of smacking himself on the forehead, “How rude of me!” He exclaimed. “This is uhm… a customer.” He clasped his hands together and looked to the unnamed lady, imploring her to continue his statement.

“Hello,” She started, reverting back to English, “I have to come and ask of a broken television, it produces a smoke whenever I am to use it.”

Jaqline took a second to note down what she had been told, “A smoke? Sounds like that could be a bit of a fire hazard. We’ll need to have someone come round to look soon if that’s alright?”

“That would be good, yes.” She nodded, jerkily bobbing her head forwards.

Looking back to the monitor to her side, Jaqui checked their listings and called over to Madeo, now in the next room making a small cup of tea for himself, “Hey Lennox, you’ve got two jobs lined up for today, three if you do this one too, though it will put you in overtime. D’ya wanna take it?”

The man let out a deep sigh, scratching his chest as he did so. His unkempt body shivered as the cool air finally reached him. When his eyes began to shut again he had to shake his head to keep awake.

Rolling out of the bed, he wrestled with the blanket as it tried to pull him back, hearing the thin fabric tear in the process. His feat landed on the false wood flooring with a heavy slapping sound, another shiver running up his back as he touched the cold artificial material.

He began the shuffle over to the bathroom, inebriated as he was by tiredness. This morning, as with any other, he decided that a shower would be the perfect thing to wake him, and so he stepped into the cramped chamber, closing the weathered glass shutter behind him.

The water was cold, pouring a rusty brown colour at first but then, thankfully, washing out into a clear liquid. He amused himself by attempting to write in the foggy window, but once again he realised that the fog was not from steam, but rather a permanent part of the old glass. Soon after he left, stepping out of the shower into the bathroom, he grabbed his razor from the sink and, making sure not to cut himself - the mirror on the wall was still relatively usable - removed the last nights growth of dark peach fuzz from his jaw.

Doing his best to see how his hair looked, he tied his long fringe back behind his head in two parts, tucking it under the hair at the very back. He then dressed into the clothes that sat on the top of the cabinet, where he had laid them the night before. In a few hours he would need to be ready to go to work, and so made sure that the only part of his uniform he was not wearing would be his jacket. The long glossy black plastic trousers tucked into his heavy boots looked normal enough for him to wear in public. Finally he pulled on a simple grey shirt, brushing away the small flecks of dirt that sat on one shoulder, it was not a complicated outfit, and that was how he liked it, he was not one to stand out in a crowd.

Glad for even the slightest excuse to leave, he grabbed his tall coat from the hooks by his door, threw it over himself, and stuffed the thin orange jacket his employers made him wear into a pocket.

The entryway was in no better shape than the inside of the building, a long, open sided corridor of concrete and steel; the handrail on the side where one could look out into the city was crumbled, cracking away in some places, completely absent in others and covered in bullet holes in yet more.

Far below the balcony, the bustle of the Everdark kept on going, as ever, throughout the night. The part of the city where the canyon of buildings would stop all light from the sun ever reaching, Madeo looked over the precipice into the darkness beyond, seeing the many bridges and walkways crossing the chasms between the broad flat structures that made up the city’s base tier. Below that were the dim lights of the market streets, the only area of the city to lie on solid ground. Madeo had been down to that part of town only a few times before, and yet still it felt more alive than any other part of the run down gloom they called the city.

He made his way down the balcony, passing all the, mostly empty, apartments as he went. From the odd one or two he could hear the sounds of people waking up; alarms throbbing through walls and showers pouring frozen water over the poor souls needing to wash. Finally he reached the eastern corner block of the building, jutting out from all three of its corners were square pillars, each housing the funicular style transports that crawled their way up and down the side of the structure.

Entering one of the funiculars was like walking into the future, Madeo thought, or more precisely, like stepping into the present. Everything was maintained to the standard that the inhabitants of the upper floors of the tower would expect, comfortable seats lined the wall facing away from the building in two banks, like a miniature cinema. To add to that effect there were even screens, hovering in place in front of the head rest of each seat, waiting for someone to sit and choose their viewing pleasure. It was all lined in deep rouge velvet, with alabaster white walls made from the same tough polymers as the rooms at the top of the building.

He sat down in a seat on the lower row, the only other people in the car were a couple; sat in the back corner, too engrossed in each other’s faces to even notice him enter the vehicle, and a young woman, maybe twenty years old, a few places down from where he sat. She had light brown skin, slowly turning paler in the dim light that her new home provided, and long dark hair tied loosely behind her head. Wrapped around her small frame was a pale coat, made from tough looking fabric, to Madeo it seemed a little too warm to be wearing in the current climate.

She smiled at him as he entered, eyes sparkling gently and rounded features giving a calming appearance, and he nodded politely in return, he sat down on the chair in the nearest corner and pushed the digital screen away, where it hovered behind him to slot into the seats head rest. Leaning one arm against the seats armrest and balancing his head against the thumb and forefinger, he looked out of the window. The city slowly rose up before him, like a water tank filling up, it put the picture in his head of the city spilling over the top of its self-same walls, and flowing into the vast landscapes beyond.

 Her friends had still not returned from the sky and so she sat inside, curled up on the floor of the room next to a large square pillar. The rooms around her were all brightly lit, with glowing ceilings, but she had not figured out how to make hers do the same, no matter how much she willed it.

Now that the sun had hidden itself away again, she had taken the first thing she could see to make herself a coat and keep warm. A strange thick square of material that was lying on top of an even stranger soft platform. The platform was too unusual for her to get comfortable, every time she would sit in a good position it moved beneath her and she sank in to it. So instead she sat on the floor, underneath the thick square she had taken from on top.

 The furnicular was nearing the end of its decent, the great gears tucked away behind him slowly turning, crashing tooth by tooth into the studded runners affixed to the walls of the tower. As the dull thuds slowed, and a slight sense of pressure became apparent from the gradual decrease in speed that they were experiencing.

Funny, thought Madeo, how they seemed to be slowing at a lower pace than usual. The ground of the lower tiers came up towards them faster than they were used to, and the couple at the back, watching a film on the holoscreens, began to cautiously peer around the edge of their screens to the window opposite.

Then they slowed, back to the pace they should’ve been travelling at by now. All of the vehicles occupants wobbled a little, shaking their heads to remove the sense of dizziness that came with such a sudden increase in G-force. All except one, Madeo saw from the corner of his eye that the girl who had smiled to him was unfazed, still gazing listfully into the middle distance of the widening bases of the towers.

Shortly they came to a complete stop, the gears giving one final delayed thud as they were permitted a respite for the passengers to change over. The automated doors opened, sliding up and to one side in a wide arc between the two layers of the side walls.

There was a wide stairwell leading down through the floor of the broad balcony they all now stood upon, and rising up from the bottom was a faint bluish light in the darkness. Madeo, not wanting to delve into the caverns below just yet, decided to walk over to the railing of their balcony. The rail stood at about eight feet tall, and between each of its widely spaced vertical rungs was a faintly checked sheet of Vitretal, a glass like substance that was actually made from solid metal, its atoms composed in a way that made it transparent.

From where he stood, the moonlight from the two glowing celestial orbs was managing to filter through a small gap between the buildings that the outer edges of the city comprised of. He was swathed in the faint glow, and while it felt no different than the light emitted by the neon bulbs surrounding him, to him the fact that it was natural made all of the difference. As the increasing glow of the bulbs began to negate the light from the moons, and their steady orbits took them in trajectories around the blind sides of the buildings around him, he turned away, trying not to accustom himself to the cruel false dawn that surrounded him. The lie that it told felt even more prominent when he looked to his wrist and saw that it was still more than half an hour until the sun crept up above the horizon.

He moved now towards the stairwell, its deep blue glow beginning to fade into a warmer peach, as the bright skylights of the building below simulated the daytime back on Earth. The wide entrance to the space below was constantly teeming with people, either walking in or out, even in this early hour; it would seem homesickness can strike at any moment. Madeo held onto the rail to his side loosely as he made his way down the deep stairs, the very tails of his long coat catching on the steps behind after his feet had left them.

He looked up as he descended the step, keeping an eye on the slowly changing colour of the ceiling above, its expansive surface was covered in small bumps, each one projecting the faint light out of its hemispherical surface. As he descended lower, these lights began to converge, fading into the distance further above him, until the ceiling was perfectly smooth, with no way of telling where it ended and where it began. Still looking  up into the artificial sky, Madeo felt the ground below him level out once he reached the bottom, around him was a crowd of people, each one smiling at the myriad of conversations they were holding. He made his way to the pathway that ran around the wooded areas in the centre of the enclosed world, further along one to the east, only about a mile or so away, was a coffee shop where he would often come on the early mornings like these to get a drink before his day began. The people on the pathways would often mill about, getting in his way, walking slowly, and sometimes stopping completely and nearly making him walk into them. Then they would glare at him as if he was at fault. And so Madeo had taken to the grass, walking across the freshly mown surface and listening to the sounds of the crisp morning dew crunching below his boots. The café was actually a little way off to his east, whilst the path would lead him south, and so he ventured further into the field, the hubbub of the people fading away into the distance, to be replaced by the quiet laughter of couples laying on blankets or walking their pets, many of which were mere machines in disguise. He skirted around the sloping gravelly shores of a small lake, his reflection shimmering back up to him when he looked into its azure depths.

As he walked, the cool breeze from the oxygen fans that pumped air into the chamber threatened to pull his hair out of its neat alignment, forcing him to pop his collar up high to stop it from doing so. Gradually, it carried with it the scents of the drinks from the cafés, as well as the heavy scents of food, and he could pick out the faint individual scent of his favourite drink, a special cider made from the peppery fruit of a plant native to Kiril.

Attracted by the smell, he picked up the pace, his body feeling lighter as he drew nearer. It wasn’t long before he was opening the gate at the entrance to the courtyard in the front of the café and stepping between the circular wooden tables. It was quiet here, the owner of the shop had only just opened for the day, and the few customers that stood around were the regulars, who Madeo mostly knew by name. There was a man named Mitchell, who spent almost all of his time down here, he was always sitting at the same bench in the morning, working away on a small device – He still used a physical keypad for typing on, despite them becoming almost completely obsolete almost a century before – and again, when Madeo returned occasionally in the evenings Mitchell would be there surrounded by empty flasks of coffee, still clicking away at the keys. Madeo nodded to him as he went past and, in his usual manner, Mitchell lifted one hand away from the keys for less than a second to give what Madeo had come to assume was a wave. Then there was a group of girls over at the back corner who would stop here in the middle of a jog a few times a week; they quietly giggled away, sipping their coffees. Madeo never really talked to them, and so, he thought regretfully, he didn’t know their names.

Yet amongst all of the familiar faces, was one he hadn’t seen before, stood behind the counter was a teenage boy. His uniform was a little too big for him and he had a fresh bout of acne covering his chin; he shifted around awkwardly, unsure of what to do whilst he waited for customers to make their orders, as he saw Madeo approaching however he straightened, obviously into a rehearsed position.

“Good morning, what can I get for you today sir?” He asked, once he’d reached the counter.

“Morning.” The man replied, leaning against the counter with one hand, “Can I get a pint of Kiiri Anova Whiskey please?”

The youth once again looked uncomfortable, “Are… Are you sure sir? That’s toxic to humans isn’t it?” He had a confused expression on his face, and his voice trailed off towards the end as he looked down to the menu they kept behind the counter to check.

“It’s alright, I’m immune to it.” He assured the young boy.

“I’ll have to check with the manager, if that’s alright?” He said, unsure of himself.

Madeo made a gesture to say ‘go ahead’, and once the boy turned away he quickly called out after him; “Tell him it’s for Deo!”

The barista then disappeared through a side door, leaving it to swing shut behind him on its two way hinges. A few moments later, a head popped out of the same door, quickly followed by the rest of the man it was attached to. Jhonath was in his late forties, with a receding hairline and a small pot belly that threatened to jump out over his belt at any moment. He smiled as he saw Madeo at the counter, “Our new employee giving you trouble Deo?” He chortled, waving the teenager through so that he could get to making the drink.

“Not at all Jo, he was just trying not to accidentally kill a valued customer.” Feigning seriousness, he sat down in one of the barstools nearby, “If anything, I’d say he’s a model employee.”

The boy was busying himself with preparing the brew and as Madeo looked over he almost seemed to duck under the compliment, tucking his head down to his shoulders as much as his long neck would allow.

“If a little socially awkward.” He added, with a half-smile.

Then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye, a white coated figure was skirting around the edge of the lake, and on closer inspection he noticed that it was the girl from the funicular earlier, she was carrying a large briefcase that Madeo hadn’t seen before. She walked with a forceful air that seemed a little unnerving, like someone trying to disguise a limp.

He turned his head to watch her walk on by, inclining it towards his friend at the same time, “Hey Jo, any idea who that is?”

As Jo turned to look, he nodded into the direction of the girl.

“Not really, she’s been coming down here for about a week now, but this is the first time she’s been this early. Always carries that briefcase too, I think she might be some kinda scientist ‘cos it’s got the CrysCorp logo on the side.”

Madeo squinted, to try and look a little closer at the white markings on the case. “Know her name by any chance?”

Jo shook his a little, “’Fraid she’s never come down to the bar, just heads straight over to the access tunnels. The ‘off limits’ ones I think.” Then he gave a laugh, more of a smile and a short exhale from his nose, “You fancying yourself as a bit of a ladies man again Deo? You know you’re getting a little too old for that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Jo.” He faked innocence, looking around him as if the other man’s statement was directed at someone else. The boy then made his way over to the counter, gently placing the spherical ceramic flask in front of Deo.

“Here you go, one Anova Whiskey.” He was still looking at the bottle with a confused expression on his face.

Madeo then pulled the correct change out of his coat pocket, briefly looking over his shoulder to see where the girl was going. “Thank you my young friend.” He then tossed another coin in the form of a tip to him, watching as the boy quickly fumbled it in his hands. Finally, he grabbed his drink and stepped off the barstool, giving a quick salute to Jo as he left, who then returned it.

The boy turned to look at Jo, “If I can ask, how can he be immune?”

Jo was busy watching him vault over the courtyard fence and set of jogging down the path after the girl. “Oh he uh… He hatched. From an egg.” This statement of course just raising more questions in the boys mind than it answered.

 Madeo kept his pace up as he drew out of sight of the bar, waiting until he’d passed the nearby treeline before he slowed down. The girl was about five hundred metres away, still walking in that same purposeful manner towards the edge of the dome, where the artificial blue sky sloped down to meet the floor. He followed her slowly, making sure not to be seen.

There was something odd about her, something that worried Madeo, and finding out that she was working for CrysCorp made that feeling even worse, he had some unfortunate reasons for disliking the people who worked for that company.

She disappeared over the edge of a hill, and he quickly caught up, waiting at its crest beneath the shade of a large tree. There were no people around in this part of the park – after all it was empty here with nothing to entertain them – save for the few workers milling about by the large steel catwalks that lined the floors of the edges of the room. Below their large steel meshes were the fans that pumped the fresh oxygen into the park from outside, and took away the older air for recycling.

The girl had unbuttoned her coat as she reached the edge of the hill, nodding to a small window booth by a huge closed door. Madeo imagined the worker inside nodding in return as the doors slid open, revealing the light of the true sunrise.

A rush of air blew in through them, threatening to throw her coat away from her. He saw, as it was lifted away around her shoulders, that underneath she wore a tight fitting black bodysuit, padded in most places but with the joints freely moveable.

Madeo Lennox lifted his face, feeling the deep red warmth on his face as it shone faintly through his eyelids. Around him, the bright neon lights of the city were shining, keeping the dimly lit place bright, even during the sunny moments of midday, but these lights were always missing the warmth of the sun; they were harsh and bright, and to look at one would give the impression that they were hot to the touch. Yet they glowed cold, standing out in the darkness but blending in with it at the same time.

 Far above him, on one of the upper balconies of the same tower, was a girl. She had come to the city from her old home for many the same reasons as the rest of its inhabitants, but also completely different ones. She looked like any other girl in the city, but didn’t fit in. She even thought in the same way as the others, but at the same time uniquely. Such an oxymoronic way of being she had, so special was she.

None of her neighbours knew her name, and neither did she. None of her friends knew why she was there, and in truth, neither did she. She looked to them, in their ruffled feather coats, scrabbling at the smooth metal of the structure with wiry legs. In their lack of knowing she was much like them, just going along with her life as it went on. She tried to talk to them as they danced around one another, but she did not know how, and neither did they. Instead their relationship built around her watching them, and them letting her.

She thought it was a special way of talking, albeit a bit of a dead end conversation. Listening to the sounds of the city she thought that no-one around her could talk like this with their friends. Her neighbours would gossip away, constant drones of speech, muffled through dense walls.

A door opened on a neighbouring tower, and a man stepped out. He was tall, with dark plumage on his head and a thick coat to keep off the cold.

It wasn’t that cold, she thought.

Her friends continued the fussed dancing regardless, and she knew they would wait for her return. So she turned her attention to the new man. But he hadn’t seen her; the tower she stood in was in shade, waiting for the sun to peak above the jittered horizon of spires. Instead he too talked with her friends, speaking with his eyes. Their response of continuation of their lives much the same as they had given her.

He stood for some time, crossed arms leaning on the railing, speaking to her friends. She watched him, her youthful face contorting in ways she knew not the meaning of. Brow furrowed and eyes shut tight, water trickling down her cheeks.

The man coughed once, to clear his throat. She snapped her eyes open at the sound, and watched as her friends left. Tumbling off the tower, up t

o the deep blue sky behind.

The man, now bored from the lack of conversation, left. Shutting his door behind him.

He’d told her friends to leave; he interrupted her conversation and then cut it short. Why could he talk to them too? Was she not so special as she had thought?

All of a sudden she felt like the man may have been right to wear that coat.

She was cold.

As such, he made sure to remember the direction they travelled in, and how all the landmarks looked from the back in case he should need to find his way back to the caravan.

In front of him, the boy and girl – and their mounts – picked their way along the barren rocks with ease. Like children at play they seemed joyous in their careful movements.

 Myrtri had finally managed to leave the steep sides of the glacial valley. He had dismounted from Voruga’s back, and now stretched his aching legs along the top of the sheer sided ridge.

Upon occasion his feet would cause the rock to crumble away, clattering down the wall to a noisy rest in the boughs of some dense shrubbery, clinging to the bare walls.

Each time he would back away quickly, avoiding the steep plummet to his death, but always he found out that he had returned, balancing like a circus performer with a deathwish.

Voruga on the other hand was as far from the edge as possible, she was about five hundred metres up the steep sided mountain, her dextrous paws overturning rocks and digging away at little mounds of dirt to find her prey.

He watched as she bounded after a jackalope, its powerful hind legs sending it across the hillside like an arrow. But in turning away he noticed something he hadn’t seen before, ahead of him, about a mile up the valley there was a patch of darker ground.

He pulled out his spyglass to confirm what he thought it might be, and sure enough saw that it was an opening into another valley. His eyes followed it down to where it bisected the cliff wall and saw that there was a tributary, maybe two thirds the width of the river below. With any luck it would be wide enough for them to pass through.

“Voruga, heel!” He called, the gryphon reluctantly abandoning her chase and slowly pacing down the cliff towards him.

Up above, the Jackalope poked its horned head out from the damaged burrow entrance, watching with curious eyes as the man mounted the back of its tormentor and set off upriver.

 Aveline led the way down the bluffs, several times having to dismount from his gryphon – whom Baethiah still hadn’t learned the name of – and half slide, half climb down on his own. The two gryphons made their way down to the ground, easily jumping from boulder to boulder, causing a small cascade of rubble to tumble down the cliff.

Finally Baethiah clambered down, sometimes feeling like she was losing her footing on the rough surface, the pale rocks here were heavy and sturdy, but a foot in the wrong place could get her stuck below one.

She made it past the steepest part of the cliff and, like Aveline, slid down to the bottom on the loose gravelly surface. Once she stood up she could hear her heart thrumming in her chest heavily. Or was it the sound of wingbeats? She looked up into the clearing sky for a moment and saw nothing above, deciding that she was right the first time.

Once more the two mounted up and begun their trek to the encampment.

“How much further away is it?” Baethiah inquired, her voice rhythmically jolting with the movement of Daneizal as his massive forelegs pulled them along the ground.

“We’re nearly halfway there I think, though going this route we won’t see it until we’re already there. Which means that they won’t see us coming either.”

They’d been travelling now for at least six hours, and the sun was starting its descent to the south east. Twice they’d had to ford narrow streams, and five times they’d climbed down the leading edge of an escarpment. Baethiah’s knees were aching and her palms were sore from the rough leather reins attached to Dane’s headcollar.

She sat down in the saddle as the ground levelled out, allowing her legs to rest. They were in a westbound valley now, the mountain a long way to their left standing between them and the open forestland they’d spent the last few months camped in.

The river before them was wide, almost worryingly so Baethiah noticed, though she couldn’t quite tell why. It was Aveline who first noticed what was wrong, pointing down to the trees, the trunks below their boughs submerged in water.

“Has the flooding started already? Perhaps the rain hit here earlier than the valleys to the north.” He asked, looking to Baethiah who bore a dubious expression.

“No, this isn’t a flash flood, it’s too high up the mountain for starters, that and the ground is too dry around it. This was caused by a blockage further down the river I think.”

Aveline looked down the valley, shielding the now beating sun from his eyes with one hand. “This is the river that leads near to the encampment. If this is a blockage then chances are it’s been dammed up.”

They began a steady walk down to the river bank, the gryphons tentatively pawing at the water with their big clumsy limbs. In the ripples, Baethiah saw that the water was almost completely clear, and below its surface the starving brown grass dislodged from the ground as it swayed in the current.

Aveline stooped to pick up the dead plant from the shore and looked at it closely.

“It’s been dead for a while, this lake must’ve been here for at least a few months.”

“Then it’s definitely a dam that’s stopping it. C’mon, let’s keep moving.” Baethiah kicked her heels in to Dane’s flank, urging him forwards gently. His lolloping gate rapidly turning to an uneven canter as they splashed along the shallows.

Already she was musing over an idea of how to complete their job, though she didn’t share it with her partner just yet.

 Voruga was assisting Myrtri with fording the wide river, he clung on to her broad shoulders and kicked as she paddled them along, steering with paws twice the size of his head. Ever since he was little Myrtri had never learnt to swim, deeming it a useless ability to have when your whole life was spent in a caravan.

However now he was beginning to regret that youthful stubbornness. Constantly having to cough and splutter the murky water from his mouth, blinking his dark eyes as they were stung by the floating sediment.

With Myrtri acting as a dead weight it was slow progress, but they made it to the other side after a few minutes, though the rapidly flowing current had dragged them down by another half mile. When he finally stood up and coughed out the water he’d inadvertently drank with a throaty burp, he looked across the river to where they had come from. Indeed they were further down than where they had come from initially, he could see the long dark scuff mark on the cliff face from where they had tumbled down in their clumsy descent.

Dripping wet and freezing cold, Myrtri stumbled across to Voruga, who was busy shaking her body to remove the water trapped below her shaggy fur. Once she stopped he rested a hand on her head, gasping out a quick “Thank you,” before sitting on the bank and looking out onto the water. From the outside it would always look so enticing, but under the waves it was cold and pressuring, like a continuous hail of ice.

The gryphon nudged his back with her broad, flat nose, urging him to get up so they could continue. Gradually he got to his feet, hauling himself up into the saddle, the uncomfortable stirrups making a welcome change to the icy river.

Unlike her rider, Voruga had enjoyed the refreshing swim, it made a nice change from spending time in a paddock with the rest of her herd. And so she was nice and eager to carry on moving, bounding ahead with Myrtri having to hold on or get thrown off. Which he nearly did – twice.

It only took ten minutes or so for them to reach the intercutting valley. Its wide, shallow slopes perfect for their caravan to travel up.

Before they entered this new terrain however, Myrtri decided to pull out his spyglass and check further upstream of the river they had just crossed. Unable to see any more suitable offcuts he reckoned that his current find would be the best way for the caravan to leave.

With a newfound spring in his proverbial step, he urged Voruga up the slopes, now heading north out of the valley.

 Beth and Aveline were now making their way along the river, the hillside to the east being one of the few remaining things that stood between them and the encampment.

From where he was, above the two, he was able to see the primitive stone arc that blocked the southwestern part of the river. He made doubly sure to keep his eye on Baethiah, who had almost seen him several times on the way through the hills.

Often he began to feel tired, as he did now, forcing him to go to ground a short way ahead of the others and wait for their arrival. Having to physically hide from sight whilst he let his mind recover.

Now he was dropping to the ground near the top of the dam, his wide wings acting like a parachute for his light figure to glide down safely.

He saw the many people below, milling about in their tents. There were some carrying tools, obviously designed for some degree of construction, whilst others were dressed in crisp black uniforms, their aprons often dusted with coats of fine white powders and stains of varying colours. The aromas of whatever food it was these black robed men were cooking wafted up to him.

It made him feel slightly nauseous as he recognised what the red stains were, but after nearly eighteen years amongst the people of this strange culture and countless more before then, he was used to that strange idea of eating meat. Still he decided it best to move from his current standing point, walking down to the edge of the artificial stone bank.

His boots made a soft tap against the surface, their synthetic soles cushioning his feet from the irregular bumps that jutted from the rock. Only he could hear the sound though, that was something he always made sure to take care of.

The people below were looking into all different directions, though none up to where he was standing. He decided to reveal himself, now fully visible to those around him, and immediately felt a pressure ease from his mind.

Tilting his head back, he rolled it around on his slender neck, looking up to the sky above. It was nearing night now, and the first of many stars would soon make themselves seen much like himself. That was one thing that he had always found enticing about these other worlds, their night time skies were brilliant walls of colour, shining with the glow of the many distant suns.

Here they were all tinged with purples on the fringes of their glow, the chemically rich atmosphere high above dying them beautifully.

And to think, the locals thought it was solid. That the intense black vacuum was an object they could touch if only they built high enough. And all the little pinpricks of light were just that, holes in the revolving blanket that wrapped around their home.

He breathed in the unpolluted air, flexing his muscles to let his, still ruffled, feathers settle. Finally he looked down, watching the starlight shimmer on the deep water to one side of the dam. The setting sun just began to catch on the edges of a distant mountain, its reflection a shimmering halo around a great black arrowhead. How he would love to see a world like this in all its true beauty, to see every sunset, breathe the crisp airs from the tallest mountains and shower in the rains of the densest forests.

He heard a noise behind him, faint on the same gentle wind that carried the fumes of the meals from the camp. Looking around and down he saw that he had amassed a small crowd in his musings. They gathered at the base of the dam, looking up with faces fearful of the winged man’s silhouette that paced around atop their construction like the king who owned it.

Unseen by those who stared at him, a moment of terror flashed across his face. He had been seen. After eighteen years of hiding here, he had just jeopardized everything in a single, crucial moment.

Quickly he thrust his wings to the side, the people below stepping back at the movement, and with a single powerful beat launched himself skyward, allowing the wind to spin his narrow body as he went up. Then he disappeared.

 They were ascending a hill southeast of the lake, already they knew for certain that there were dams in the river as they had crossed over one along the northern edge. From the direction of the dried up riverbed it looked as if it flowed into the original wide valley they had traversed earlier. Beth looked as far down its course as she could when they crossed, hoping to spot her brother making his way towards them, but alas, she was disappointed.

If Aveline was correct in his tracking then the encampment should be very close by. Behind the hill they saw the sun dipping low towards the horizon, and as Baethiah gazed at it she swore that she could see a flash of movement shoot up across its smooth amber surface.

She blinked and the image was gone, perhaps she was just tired. They had been travelling away from the camp for over ten hours, and it would likely be a while longer yet before the two had a chance to rest up.

The crest of the hill came up to meet them, and as they reached the summit they slowed their ascent. The reservoir to their left dipped out of view where a low rise got in the way, but it reappeared again in time for them to see the structure that blocked the rivers exit. The dam spanned between two sheer sided cliffs, the one on the far side looking very fresh as if it were recently carved. Down in the dried up river bed to the south were the tents and carts of the encampment. More than one of them bore the markings of the Divine Thurro, the religious group that intertwined with the political influences of the south.

There was no sign of anybody down in the camp however, and as they made their slow approach they could see a light, rising up from the base of the dam.

Carefully, the two dismounted and told their mounts to wait in a nearby copse. Baethiah’s legs burned with the effort of standing, the aching knees locked into the position of their stirrups. Then they walked, half stealthily, down the side of the hill towards the top of the dam. As they drew nearer they were able to make out a slight flicker in the light below the lip, evident now that it was the light of a flame or torch.

“They must be right up against the wall of the dam,” Whispered Aveline, “Let’s get a closer look, but be careful.”

Crouching now, they crept along to the very edge of the dam, Baethiah lay down on her stomach and peered over the edge. At the bottom of the steep stone wall there were nearly a hundred people clustered around, holding torches and squabbling incessantly. From her high vantage point she could see that some of them were frantic, as if spooked by something. Whilst others seemed rather like they were tired of standing around, “…sure it was, I believe you.” She overheard, detecting a small hint of sarcasm in the tone. “When Dorian gets back from the top we’ll know what it was, alright?”

She kept looking around for sign of anyone giving orders to the group, but was unable to see an authority figure in the bustle of the crowd. If this place had one, they were likely to be elsewhere. Then a thought struck her, that man below had said the top, which was currently where they were hiding.

Baethiah turned her head over her shoulder to tell Aveline that they would need to move, but stopped when she saw the silhouette of a man sneaking up behind him.

“Aveline! Look out!” She called out, her voice causing the others to look up from below. Thankfully he was already on edge, and so dodged immediately out of the way when he saw her look of surprise, even before she spoke.

The man behind, presumably the Dorian mentioned earlier, made a grab for him, his thick fingers closing around the collar of Aveline’s shirt in mid jump. The sudden lack of momentum caused his legs to swing forwards from under him, out over the edge of the dam. Then there came a tearing sound as Aveline’s thin shirt ripped in the man’s hand, Baethiah quickly reached out and, very nearly missing, managed to grab hold of Aveline’s wrist. He now hung over the edge of the dam, the top edge just out of his grasp. Glancing down in fear, the boy quickly swung his free arm up to try and grab the edge, but couldn’t get his fingers to grip the smooth cobbles.

Myrtri sat in the front, his eyes never wavering from the ground in front as he picked his way across the terrain, making sure to keep the lumbering beasts around him in his peripherals, not wanting to draw too close.

Daneizal was absentmindedly pulling them forward, occasionally slowing down to sniff at a spot of ground, ripe with the scent of jackalope urine. Once or twice he picked up a large rock, hoping to unearth the entrance to a burrow and find a snack waiting inside, however he was oft disappointed, many of the burrows abandoned and collapsed from the earlier rainfall.

On either side of them now were the great mountains, and they currently travelled in a deep gorge, its sheer walls carved out by a combination of foul weather, long frozen winters, and travellers wanting to shorten their journey by a few days.

As they passed a large boulder (Dane edging closer to it when his keen eyes noticed a dark gap below its driest face,) someone called from in front. Looking up, Myrtri soon found the source of the voice, it was Michel’s gondola, his wife waving to them from the back.

“Myrtri! Lord Riejou wishes to speak with you at the front of the caravan, she claims it’s urgent so you’d best not keep her waiting.”

Freya, for that was the name of Michel’s wife, had helped to raise the twins as an adoptive mother, and he feared her wrath much more than that of his lord, she had beaten him several times before when he was caught stealing fruit from the farmyards they stopped near. And so it was by her request, and not Lord Riejou’s that he set off for the front of the caravan. “Aye Ma’am, we’ll make our way over now.”

 Lord Riejou’s wagon had slowed its pace, waiting for their small cart to catch up. The lady was stood in the open doorway of their wagon, which was large enough for them to be able to fit their own miniature vehicle inside. Her thin arms holding on to the doors with surprising strength.

“Pull your cart inside Myr, it’ll be easier to talk if we’re in the same wagon.” She called over the howl of the wind, letting it carry her voice over to them.

He nodded in response, knowing there was no way she would hear him if he spoke. Quickly he opened up the tent behind and called his sister out to the front, where he moved over to let her sit next to him in the seat. Then, with a few quick shakes of the reins, he urged Daneizal towards the open doorway before them.

Effortlessly the gryphon managed to leap inside, past Riejou, who moved to the side, one arm holding open the heavy wooden door. Then the twins leapt into the wagon and, with the help of their elder and Daneizal, hauled the cart up the ledge and inside.

The great door swung shut behind them, and Lord Riejou pulled a catch down to keep it shut before going to relight the torches than had been extinguished by the rush of air, pulled from the wagon when the doors were opened.

Once the cart was securely in place, Baethiah immediately set to unharnessing Daneizal, allowing him to somewhat stretch his legs in the little clear space they had. The beast grew restless in confined spaces, and would no doubt be unappreciative of being kept harnessed on top.

The gryphon immediately went over to his older brothers in one side of the wagon, dancing their muscular heads around and hissing their tongues in their strange language.

“What’s happening milord? Are we stopping for camp soon?” Asked Baethiah as they walked through to the far end of the cart, where the gangway to the gondola was tethered.

“Not quite, I wasn’t expecting the storm to be this thick you see. Looking through the mountain pass it seemed much smaller.” She stopped and climbed up onto a box, sitting on the edge and lighting the last torch in the wagon.

Myr noticed the increase of light catch the silvery black shine of the markings on her scalp, and as her body turned, the myriad of small markings that outlined her spine shimmered on her bare back. It gave the impression of the flash of light on a flowing river at sunrise, or perhaps the motion of a shoal of fish, darting in accordance to some unknown dance.

“The problem,” She continued, breaking Myrtri out of his enrapture, “Is that with such intense rainfall there is a danger of a flash flood. And with our party caught in the middle of the valley we’ll get swept away.”

“Then what are we doing here? Shouldn’t we head away from the valley?” Myrtri added, his tone short.

Baethiah subtly kicked him in the heel, reprimanding him. To which Riejou, who’s ever keen eyes noticed the movement, smiled slightly. “I’m afraid that we don’t know if we can, this is a valley that isn’t mapped very well on Cartographer Paein’s charts. What we need is someone to go ahead and scout for an exit. Another valley, preferably an ascending one, or a shallow mountain slope will do.”

Myrtri glanced at his sister quickly. “I presume you mean for Baethiah to do that then?”

Riejou laughed, “Hah, you’re always trying to escape work Myr. Actually, I have another task for your sister, so you’ll go to do this, I trust you to be mindful of the land, and avoid any areas that seem like they may flood soon.”

She led the way back to the other gryphons, picking out the strongest, a female with a shimmering black mane and lurid green eyes.

“We need you to go immediately, I’ve prepared a pack for you to take along and Voruga here,” She gestured to the gryphon, “Is saddled and ready.”

Myrtri, taken aback by the very rushed introduction of his task took a moment to register what she was talking about. “This is all a bit sudden isn’t it?”

Baethiah, seeing the gravity of the situation, snapped at him, “Not as sudden as the flood will be if we don’t find a way out of this valley. You need to start pulling your own weight around here, and if that means going off on your own for a bit then so be it.”

Riejou shot the girl a knowing glance before handing him the pack and continuing. “Now, a flood will likely happen within the next three days, and so if you haven’t returned to us by sunset tomorrow then we’ll be travelling back the way we came and you’ll need to catch up. If you cannot find us, then there is a small town called Tolica, about a day’s ride southeast of here along the old trade routes where you can restock and come to meet us in Vortith. I’ve packed as much money as possible.”

Uncertainly, Myrtri held his hand out to Voruga, who nudged it gently with her broad wet nose and bowed her head to one side, requesting for him to climb into the saddle.

Then, as Riejou went over to the door, he mounted up. Voruga’s wide frame was difficult for him to perch on comfortably, but the stirrups were at about the right for him to rest in the knee guards above her wings.

Once in, Baethiah and Riejou pushed open the door and Voruga, smelling the outside air, bounded for it. She rushed past them both, stopping herself at the edge and holding on with her broad paws. Again, the torches by the door went out, plunging them into darkness, only Myrtri’s face visible by the narrow gleam of sunlight.

“Be swift young Myr. And take care, it will be difficult for us to find you should something happen.”

He quickly nodded, wobbling slightly as Voruga prepared to lurch forwards.

Baethiah added, “And try not to get too daunted by the exercise, it’s not as bad as you think really.” To which she received a foul glare, only moments before Voruga, bored of the pleasantries, jumped for the open world beyond.

Outside, the caravan had ceased its movement, turning sideways into the valley in preparation for a possible change of course. Whilst they’d been down in the wagon Paein, as Lord Riejou’s second in command, issued the orders to do so.          

They watched the two head west, towards where the rapidly proceeding tail end of the storm advanced. Baethiah felt an ache in her stomach as she looked, a slight feeling of sickness that passed almost as soon as it had come. Once they were out of sight, the door was again shut, and they walked through the dark wooden space to the other end, wherein the hatch to the gondola was stood shut.

Riejou stepped through first, holding it open for Baethiah, who passed her and led the way up the narrow gangway to the gondola ahead.

In reality, the gangway was no more than a strung together set of ropes making a crude, narrow, bridge that ran along the side of the leviathans flank.

At the top however, the crude handiwork was no longer apparent. With the gondola entrance decorated vividly in deep red paint and golden patterns. Behind the door, Baethiah could see a beaded curtain in a variety of colours which, as she stepped through it, rattled a gentle rhythm and stroked across her close cropped hair. Once inside, she greeted Paein, his wide eyes in stark contrast to the old, withered face that bore them, and the lady who had taken Lord Riejou’s place in the driving seat earlier.

That lady, as it turned out, was in fact Aveline Riejou, the son of and next in line to Lord Riejou unless she were to bear a daughter. He was only a few years older than Baethiah, and had spent time as friends when they were children. And indeed, during their teenage years, the two had been romantically entangled for some time. Although now, as they grew older, it was much less frequent that they saw each other.

“Good afternoon Beth.” Greeted her old friend. “And I might add that I do envy your brother right now. I’d much rather do his job than what we have in store.”

His voice was quiet, the sounds of the rain outside forcing Baethiah to strain to hear the words. It suited his face very well, with polite, kind-to-the-eye features and a slim structure.

Before Beth could reply to anything more than the greeting, Aveline’s mother quickly scolded him with a short cuff to the back of the head, sending locks of long strawberry blonde hair jumping forwards.

“Enough of that talk young man, we don’t need to scare her.” Then she set off immediately for the private room at the back of the gondola, muttering under her breath. “There’ll be plenty of that to come later.”

Once in the doorway, she beckoned for Baethiah to come inside the room, and nodded for her son to do the same. There was a table positioned in the centre of the room with heavy wooden slats crossing its surface. The top was thickly laden with maps and writing equipment. Thick woollen blankets, tucked into a compartment below, told Beth that it also doubled as a bed, logically since it was the only piece of furniture in the room bar the storage chests at the back.

Aveline shut the door as his mother sat on the floor at the head of the low table, her legs crossed and elbows resting upon its surface.

Baethiah nervously kneeled down, looking to Lord Riejou to start the conversation. But it was Aveline who spoke first instead. “Before my mother tells you anything, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, I had no idea that this could put you at risk.”

Beth was a little confused for a moment, asking her friend what he meant. But Aveline couldn’t reply as his mother had now started speaking, her penchant for storytelling making her point incredibly vague to begin with.

“In years to come, when I am too old to continue with my work as Lord of this caravan, Aveline will likely be the one to take my place. If ever I had any doubts as to his ability to do so, they are now gone.” As she said this introduction she looked fondly to her child, a kindness in her eyes that Baethiah had never really seen before, but she knew it to be motherly love. Now she turned to Baethiah, once again resuming her business-like attitude. “Over the past half a century, the state of DoQuvori in the south has slowly been expanding its territory into the north, buying areas of land from our government with promises of trade. It is their belief, or at least that of their leaders, that all the world rightfully belongs to them, and they wish to claim it. Of course, these foolish notions are not something that concerns me, what does concern me is this; this group has been constructing trade routes and highways between the cities in the south, in the tracts of land they have purchased, which may seem like something that benefits us at first. After all, it will make travel between cities much easier and our trade should bloom.” Aveline nodded along with every word, seeming like he’d heard it all before and was anticipating the next part of the story.

“However, as has been evidenced by their early actions in the south, these trade routes also serve as toll collectors. Any people travelling would need to pay them money for the upkeep of the highway. On top of that, they also use it for their own trading, they’ve almost set up their own empire in the south. Before the century is through they will likely control nearly all trading across the continent.”

Baethiah interjected, “Meaning that people like us won’t be able to continue with our lives. They intend to drown out our own trades, forcing a takeover of the land by giving us no alternative to turn to them.”

“Exactly, which is why my son here came up with a plan to solve this problem. At least temporarily.”

Now Aveline spoke, nervously bowing his head upon occasion as if he was ashamed. “Along our normal travelling route there is an outpost, we’ve heard reports of convoys of carts bringing resources from the south and the trade route has been closed off. It would seem they are beginning to construct one of their highways across this very mountain range, it’s why we went this way to begin with. But if your brother cannot find us safe passage further up, we will have to go down through their encampment. From here it is only two days away for our caravan, and if we are leaving without Myrtri then that only gives us until this time on Highest Star to clear the pass.”

“Clear the pass?” Baethiah asked, beginning to understand Aveline’s plan. “Do you intend to drive them out by force?”

“No, that would only start a war with their empire and caravans like ours. What I intend is to give them no option but to give up on their intention. We’ve seen these people around when we spend the winters in their lands so we know just how faithful their leaders are. And if we can make them believe that their deity doesn’t want them to construct this highway, the pious fools will hopefully give in. If not, then we’d need to destroy it without their knowing it was us.”

Lord Riejou was looking intensely at Baethiah, seemingly scheming something in her mind. “In order for this to work we need to send no more than two people in. They would have to do something to make them leave but not be seen doing it.”

After the earlier conversation involving her brother Beth realised the intention of her Lord. “You want me to go?”

“Yes, Aveline can guide you there and help you complete the task since he knows the camps whereabouts as well as the rest of us. But once it is done you cannot wait for, nor return to us. If you are seen and tailed, we need them to think that you are mere barbarians. There would be no time for you to lose them between here and there, and if they are led to us then a war would surely break out.”

Beth nodded, a few questions still on her mind. “Then where are we to go after?” She looked to Aveline, who opened his mouth to speak.

“We are to do as your brother is doing, if we reconvene in Vortith then it will give us over a week of travelling to lose anyone who is following us. There are plenty of open plains before the city, and if we are being tailed, then they will find it nearly impossible to stay out of sight.”

“This doesn’t sound too dangerous, difficult maybe, but certainly nothing to worry about. So what was with the pre-emptive apology?”

Lord Riejou gave a solemn nod, “There’s more to tell you. I believe that both you and your brother are in danger from this cult; they were heard to be lurking around Vortith recently, asking questions about a relic dating back to the Bawrough dynasty. Now, the only time I’ve ever heard of such a thing turning up in Vortith was when your mother dug one up.

She looked off to her side, as if she was thinking. “So if they found out that it was your mother who found it, then they would likely be aware of you two not being found amongst those who died in the fire.” Baethiah nodded, eager to learn more about her mother “When you were younger,” Riejou continued, “it wasn’t so much of a problem, but now that you are older and look so much like that dear mother of yours they could realise the truth if you are caught.”

“But surely they wouldn’t know from looks alone.” Interrupted Baethiah once more.

“Normally not no, but you share something more in common with your mother than just looks. I cannot tell for certain what it is, though I know it is definitely there, I remember when I first saw it in your mother, perhaps four years or so before you were born. I was barely your age at the time, and she was friends with my own mother, then I started to notice a change, almost like the sense of falling that one gets just from looking over a precipice. Whatever it is, your brother has it too, but not as strongly. If they can see what I see, they’ll surely know.”

Baethiah sat in silence, unsure of how to answer. She tilted her head with the lightly swaying motions of the beast above them. Looking to Aveline, she saw the boys gaze focussed on the maps below, flickering this way and that between the sketched in valleys and peaks to try and come up with something new that didn’t mean going into danger. Once or twice his eyes lit up at the thought of a new idea, but the silence in the room was so clear that Baethiah could almost hear the inner monologue telling him all the ways it wouldn’t work when his face fell.

She looked over to the left as well, opposite Aveline, not wanting to look at Lord Riejou just yet. But she had to turn her head away quickly, as the motion made her feel sick when she looked to that side, much the same as she had done in the wagon earlier.

Finally, Lord Riejou broke the silence. “I understand the implications of this, and believe me, I don’t want to send either of you into danger. But it is the only way that we can see out of this situation, the two of you are the only ones in our caravan who can get rid of those men without being noticed.”

Baethiah looked back up to her, a heavy weight at the bottom of her chest, “I understand milord. And I shall do my best to help.” Though she put on a brave attitude, she knew she was scared inside. Never before had she parted from the caravan for more than a day. And never had her brother not been by her side. To be told now that she must venture through unknown lands was a daunting prospect. The only solace she could find came in that Aveline would accompany her, and that he knew the way to both this encampment, and then on to Vortith.

“Then there is no time to lose.” Aveline took control of the conversation, as his mother nodded and went to re-join the caravan. “We have two gryphons saddled and ready, and a bag of supplies available in the wagon.”

Baethiah nodded, and followed as they stood up from the table. But she stopped before they reached the door, “Actually, would it be possible to have my saddle moved to Daneizal? I feel like I’d need him there with me is all.”

Aveline paused, looking down again as he thought. After a moment he answered, “Yes. I suppose it shouldn’t be a problem, but we will need to leave immediately after.”

Baethiah nodded and the two continued through, back past Paein who slowly walked into the makeshift conference room to collect his precious maps, and out to the door at the side of the gondola.

Lord Riejou was setting to unharnessing the leviathan from their wagon, and currently the rope walkway was detached and trailing loose upon the ground. Once free, the creature settled onto its belly, collapsing onto its heavy knees. Riejou then ascended the rope mesh that stretched over its thick hide and began to undo the huge buckles and straps that held up her gondola.

Down below, the two slipped under the rail and stepped down the, now very short, drop to the earth below. The rear door to the wagon stood open and they went into the dark space, Beth going over to her cart and gathering anything she thought might be essential. She took her clothing sack, waterskin and a tinderbox filled with her tools. Most of the contents of the box she was sure would be duplicated inside the pack that was already prepared, but inside it was a small knife that she had had since she was a very young child. It was made from a shard of Umberstone, a rare volcanic metal, which she had found whilst wandering in the mountains as a girl. Despite its age the blade had never dulled, and she always made sure to keep it available when travelling away from the caravan.

She left the tent, donning her leather and fur jacket and picking up the Merma-skin coat. Aveline was setting up the saddle onto Daneizal, who nudged Baethiah affectionately when she drew close.

Aveline nodded to the packs by the crates next to him when he saw Baethiah carrying her belongings, who then went to tuck them into the tight spaces of the canvas bags.

They then carried the bags over to their mounts, attaching them to the riding harnesses below their wings. The mighty beasts both turned their heads to nudge at the peculiar objects, but barely felt the weight themselves. They mounted up onto the creatures, Baethiah taking a minute to adjust her saddle, and left the caravan for the shallow slopes to the south.

The tents and pavilions that, the previous day, had dotted the landscape like a patchwork sheet of canvas were now moving along, slowly packing up and filing out to work their way towards the next towns. The roving band of merchants would soon make their way south, into the warmer climates near the equator, whilst the cold chill of the three year winter pushed its way down behind them, like the fine teeth of a frosted comb, picking around the trees and buildings.

Always the last tent to pack up was the smallest, it sold no wares and was too small to hold any stock, instead it housed a pair of orphaned twins, the eldest was a girl named Baethiah, frail looking with cropped ginger hair. Her job in the caravan was to look after their animals, most of whom being hulking goliaths that could squash her flat by accident. And yet still they thought of her almost as a leader, like she was the master of their herd.

She had a round, delicate face, but her eyes were harsh, constantly staring into the middle distance and thinking about everything that crossed her mind. Her wide forehead was contrasted by the slightly gaunt cheeks and narrow chin. The wide, rectangular nose pointed down to a narrow mouth, lips almost constantly pursed in thought.

Her brother Myrtri, younger by only a few minutes, had slightly darker hair and a more youthful appearance. He was slightly chubbier than his sibling and far lazier, almost always being seen sitting or lying down somewhere and certainly never helping run the market stalls. They both bore similar markings on their faces, a dark pattern of disfigured skin where they had been scolded by a fire at a young age, and had the same dark eyes, the deep brown coronas almost blending with their star shaped pupils.

Baethiah was packing the last of her belongings into a travel bag, her jacket slung over the folding chair at the entrance to their cramped sleeping quarters. Meanwhile her brother was fast asleep outside, not seeming to mind the water that soaked in through his clothes.

She looked over to him as she tossed her bag into their cart and shook her head, he was drooling out of the corner of his mouth and snoring loudly. She sighed and walked over to him, giving him a firm kick in the side of the stomach with the pointed toe of her boot.

“Wake up you lazy ass. Time to get moving.” She then walked past him to where the pack animal was tied to its hitching post. “Pack up the tent,” She called over her shoulder, “The others have left and I want to catch up as soon as possible.”

She pulled the hitching post out of the ground with a few struggled twists, almost knocking her teeth out with it in doing so. Once freed, their animal trotted over to the cart, its pawed legs padding across the ground. “Good boy Dane,” Baethiah encouraged, “Why can’t my brother be as useful as you huh?” In response the creature snorted, blowing a short jet of steam from each of its large nostrils on either side of its head. Following it over, she picked up its harness from the ground beside the tent, which now had Myrtri clumsily pulling the legs out from the dirt. She slipped the thick leather frame over its massive shoulders before unravelling the straps from the sides and passing them under its vestigial wings, strapping up below its stomach. The whole process only took about a minute, and was done before Myrtri had even begun to drag the tent over.

Once he’d finally managed to do so, Baethiah grabbed the legs of the tent and slotted them into their respective sockets at the corners of the cart, effectively assembling a smaller version of the rectangular structure on top. The entranceway now leaned out over the front like an awning, covering the mighty beast that stood waiting, ever proud. At last, she took the ropes that normally held up the door flaps of the structure and attached them to the loops of the harness, tying a tight knot in each one and doing the same with the ropes on the front of the cart.

Myrtri then took the first opportunity to lie down in the cart at the back, surrounded by their bags whilst his sister picked up the hitching post and chair and threw them into the cart, making sure to aim as close to him as possible.

Then, nearly two hours after the last of the other caravans had gone, they finally set off, their beast pulling the laden cart effortlessly.

Far off into the distance, silhouetted against the rising red sun, they could see the rest of the merchants that they had come to call their family. The monstrous beasts that pulled the largest of the many tents were lumbering slowly into the distance, their crowns of horns towering up into the sky above them like masts on distant sailing boats.

 It took them only a few hours to close the gap, and now they picked their way between the larger caravans. Baethiah had returned to the back of the wagon, raiding through their supply bags to find what food they could use to make a lunch. As it was, they only had a few slices of slightly stale bread, a ripe tomato, and a tin containing a small amount of cooked meat. The meat had started to smell a little sour – perhaps not so good for them to eat, she thought – and so she flung it out the front of the wagon, and as it fell gracefully to the floor, their gryphon shot out its long forked tongue, coiling its barbed end around the morsel and swallowing it whole.

She cut the tomato in half and placed each piece on either of the two slices of bread, before passing one forward to Myrtri, who was now steering them along.

“Such culinary skills you have Beth.” He remarked, taking the food from her and examining it.

“It’s not exactly like I had much to work with, you seem to have eaten everything else.” She moved over to the rear of the cart, resting her back in the corner while she ate.

Myrtri looked around in mock offense, putting his splayed hand on his chest and widening his eyes. “Me, eat all the food? How could you make such a hurtful accusation my dear sibling?”

She swallowed her mouthful, a difficult task given how tough the bread was to chew. “Because I’ve lived with you for nearly two decades perhaps?”

He shook his head and faced out of the cart again, pulling at the reins to get the gryphon to move a little faster. “Well you know what I think? I think you’re just trying to pass the blame on.”

“Hmm, whatever you say.” She took another bite, and settled into her usual silence, pulling her hat down over her eyes.

They were travelling through a large clearing between the tall pointed trees in a great forest, spire like shadows would flash in the gaps between those of the leviathans that enclosed them. There was a constant rumble reverberating through the wooden vehicle, shaking their belongings around under the tarpaulins they covered them with. Baethiah was trying to sleep, knowing that it would soon be her turn to drive the cart and she didn’t want to have to do it half-awake. This task was proving to be considerably difficult, not least from the loud voice that now spoke from somewhere outside the wagon.

“Ho down there, is that the young Myr?”

Myrtri leaned his head out from under the awning, shielding his eyes with one hand, “Aye, it is. How are you doing Michel?”

A large man with long brown hair and a scruffy dark stubble was driving the wagon of one of the leviathans, his gondola carried between its massive forelegs like a cradle.

“Not too bad,” The old man called down over his shoulder, “And your sister, is she with you, or did you finally manage to leave the grouch behind?”

“I heard that!” She called, sitting up and shooting an unseen scowl through the walls of the wagon at where she presumed Michel to be, which was in fact the location of the leviathans rear end.

“No, unfortunately she’s still here.” Myrtri sighed, rolling his eyes in mock tiredness.

Michel laughed, a deep bellow from the pits of his large stomach, “Such a shame that is. Well, we’ve a few stops before we reach the next town, so there’s alwa…”

He was cut short by a low growl from Daneizal, baring his bladed teeth and keeping his narrow eyes focussed on Michel. In turn, Michel’s leviathan swayed its colossal head, lightly tossing the basket from side to side. Neither of them appreciated the foul talk against the woman they saw as their matriarch.

After regaining some semblance of balance and control, Michel looked down to Myrtri, a guilty look and a smirk in his eyes.

Myr leant forwards and patted Dane’s flank to calm him down. “Easy boy, we’re only joking.”

“Too damn right you are,” Baethiah leaned back against the wall of the tent, closing her eyes again. “Dane makes a much better brother than you, and you really don’t want him to prove it do you?”

Daneizal bristled with pride, his muscles tensing for a few moments and his golden mane lifting up on the back of his head. Gryphons would often fight amongst their siblings to compete for the attention of their matriarch, usually leading to the weaker sibling’s death.

Myrtri swallowed, picturing the sharp teeth at the other end of the creature in front of him, teeth that he’d almost been on the receiving end of several times before.

After a moment and a shake of his head to get rid of the horrifying image he called out to Michel again, craning his head around the edge of the awning, “Any idea what town we’re going to next?”

Michel shrugged, “’Fraid not, though from the direction we’re going I presume it’d be Vortith.”

“Vortith?” Inquired Myrtri, “I don’t remember us ever going there before.”

“You wouldn’t, the last winter they turned us away at the gates, blaming us for that fire that happened eighteen years ago. The one that, um…” He stopped talking, realising that the conversation may be dangerous territory.

“The one that took our parents.” Myrtri finished. “And gave us these burns.”

“Yeah, that one. Sorry for bringing it up.” Michel looked down at the ground, ashamed at himself.

“Don’t worry, it’s hard to miss someone that you don’t even remember.”

They carried on walking in an awkward silence, and after a few minutes Myrtri bade farewell to his friend and urged Daneizal forwards, pushing further ahead through the caravan until they neared the front. The front vehicle was captained by the caravan’s leader, Lord Riejou was a middle aged woman, lithe shaped and heavy eyed, much like Baethiah. Her head was always kept clean shaven, exposing the tattoos that ran along from her forehead, through her neck and to the base of her spine.

Next to her in their large gondola was the navigator, a short, aged man named Paein, who constantly kept a tray on his lap to hold the detailed maps of the region. The quill and ink pot, whilst almost completely full, was balanced so perfectly on his lap that none of it ever spilled over. He turned to look down at their wagon as they pulled up alongside, the magnifying lens he had hanging over one eye gave that side of his face a comically out of proportion appearance.

He nudged the woman on the shoulder with a fragile looking hand and, when she leaned close to hear, he spoke into her ear.

She then looked over to the twins down below and a smile flashed across her narrow cheeks before she disappeared again. Myrtri heard her calling something out and looked up to see what was going on. A few seconds later they saw someone walk through from the back of the gondola and she stood up to let them sit in her place.

The tall woman stepped out onto the small balcony that grew out from the side of her gondola and leaned over the railing to talk to the twins below. “Ah, just the two people I wanted to see. What brings you up to this end of the caravan?”

Baethiah was now at the front of the wagon, sat on the side of the cushioned platform with her legs hanging down by the front wheel. “We were wondering where we were next headed to milord, Michel seems to think it might be Vortith.”

Riejou made a quick, formal nod, “Aye that is the plan. Whether or not that’s possible I don’t know, since we don’t exactly have good relations with them.”

“Because of the fire I presume?” Both of the twins were now looking up with expectant faces, wanting to hear more of the event that was kept secret from them their whole lives.

“Ah, that’s what you were talking to Michel about. Well you’d have seen it yourselves soon enough I suppose.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I do understand their trepidation, regardless of whether it was a deliberate attack, or whomever it was that lit the flame, there is no doubt that the fire was started in our camp. However, that was eighteen years ago, many of those who remember it are long since passed and the prejudice should’ve waned.”

“They never found out who did it then?” Asked Myrtri, looking past his sister.

Riejou shook her head slowly, a sombre expression coming across her face. “It was never possible, the fire blazed for days and they couldn’t put it out, it was like no wildfire any of us had ever seen. Even now the land is still black, no plants will grow and no animals go near. I’ve heard that not even insects crawl over those desiccated lands.

“The flames even managed to get into the buildings, the bricks themselves began to shatter from the heat. When it did die out we sent a wagon back to look, see if any that were caught in the blaze were still alive. All they found was the two of you, locked in your mother’s safebox to stay safe from the flames and crying your eyes out.”

She looked across to the golden week-star in the south, nestled deeply in the crook of the distant mountains. “When we took you back to the city, they refused to take you in. They already had so many to rehome and rumours were beginning to spread that we’d started the fire. So we had to take you in ourselves.”

“Why take us to the city? Do we have relatives there?” Baethiah gave a questioning look to the older woman.

“I don’t know about that, but it was where your parents lived, they only joined our caravan for the short time that we were in the south, the rest of the time they would live in Vortith, working on various archaeological projects.”

Myrtri looked around in surprise, “Then were we born in Vortith?”

“Oh no, you two were born in a small village a long way south of here, I never did learn the name of it, and we’ve never even been back since it was so out of our usual path.”

They all noticed the light around them fading away and, when they looked to the mountains in the west, they saw the rising sun slowly become camouflaged behind a series of rolling grey clouds.

Baethiah turned her head back to the gondola next to them. “Anyway, you said you wanted to see us? What can we help you with?”

Once more Lord Riejou shook her head, “It can wait ‘til later. We’ll make camp once we’ve passed through that storm, come and find me then and I’ll let you know. For now, get yourselves prepared, your wagon isn’t exactly the best for that kind of weather.”

The twins nodded in unison as she headed back into the gondola, shutting the hatch behind her and walking past the others inside to the back.

Once she was gone, Baethiah returned to the tent and lifted up one of the tarpaulins, below was a pair of sacks containing their clothes. She reached inside and fished out two Merma-skin coats, the thick waterproof hides good for keeping warm in bad weather. Then she reached further under, almost having to climb into the sheet, and pulled out the heavy coat for Daneizal to wear.

As she passed her brother on her way out of the tent, she dropped their coats on the seat beside him. Then, hauling the hooded sheet on her shoulder, she walked out along the ropes from the side of the tent to hold on to Daneizal’s harness. The mighty creature didn’t even seem to be affected by her weight, partly because he was so strong and partly because she was so light. She sat astride his back, covering his broad head with the hood of the coat and reaching around his chest to affix the cover to his harness. Finally she made her way back across to the wagon, pulling the tail end of the sheet with her as she did to let it cover him completely.

She picked up her own coat, pulling it over her shoulders, and fastening the buckle across the chest. Myrtri handed the reins over to her and reached across for his coat, repeating much the same procedure as her before taking the reins back.

Beth stepped into the wagon once more, going around the edge and tightening the straps that held down the sides of the canvas to the wooden cart.

Once everything was in place she sat back at the rear of the tent once more and closed her eyes.

 No more than an hour had passed before the first of the rains hit, the gentle patter against the canvas rapidly turning into a thunderous round of applause, Myrtri slowed his pace to drop back into the group of leviathans, whose thick hide kept them warm and safe, sheltering behind the largest of which to avoid most of the rain as it sliced its way across the caravan. Though it wasn’t even midday, the sky had dimmed to a bleak grey, casting a gloomy shadow across the landscape.

The party had entered the foothills of the mountains, pushing their way across the trodden ground in the wide glacial valleys that get filled up with ice every passing cycle of the seasons.

Baethiah was awoken by the steady rumbling of the wagons wheels as they trundled over the large sediment deposits at the old glacial heads. Knowing that it would be impossible to rest with the sound of the rain hitting the tent, she got to her feet and, crouching under the low ceiling, made her way to the entrance. Stepping through she felt a brisk spray of water sting her face and scalp, quickly she pulled up the hood and raised her scarf to mask her face. Then she fastened down the tent behind her, protecting their belongings from the worst of the weather.

Ahead of them, the mountains were looming, the grey stone almost indistinguishable from the dim horizon. On the lowest peaks, she could see the snow being turned to a pale slush by the falling water. And even higher up, above the reach of the rain clouds, it sat still atop the ridges like soft, white pointed clouds, showing them the way ahead.

She sat next to her brother on the, now sodden, seat. The salty smell of his soaked coat blowing in the short sharp gusts of wind. It only took her one look to see that Myrtri was too busy concentrating on the lay of the land to engage in idle chatter. They sat in silence, gazing ahead to the distant valleys and hillsides that they saw jutting into the one they were in. Through the sound of the falling rain they could just make out the sound of the nearby river, a steady flowing sound like a bath that never stopped filling up.

After a few minutes Baethiah once again felt herself tiring, so she rested her head on Myrtri’s shoulder, allowing her eyelids to slowly descend. She pulled herself away from the brink of sleep once she felt the ground smoothing out, they’d left the glacier head now and the ground was smoother, with a short crop of grass flourishing across the wet earth. “Myr?”

“Yeah?” He half looked towards her, still paying attention to the way ahead.

“What Lord Riejou said earlier about Vortith, if our parents had a house there, do you think we’ve got any relatives there too?”

He took a moment to think, “Perhaps, no idea how we’d find them though. Besides, the last time any of them saw us would’ve been eighteen years ago, and they probably think we perished in the fire along with everyone else.”

“Hmm.” Beth once again fell into silence, watching the steady rise and fall of Dane’s shoulders as he pulled them along. The hypnotic rhythm gradually pulling her away from her lucidity, and into a calm slumber wherein she dreamed of a ship, rocking on the stormy seas.

It was nearly half an hour later when Myrtri spoke again, waking her up from her sleep. “Why d’you think they never told us any of it?”

Now Beth took some time to ponder the question. “We never really asked about it recently, and I guess the last time we did we were too young for them to say it. I mean, no kid wants to know all the details of something like that, just knowing how it happened is enough.”

“Maybe you’re right. Still, it just seems like…” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish his sentence.

“Seems like there’s maybe something else to it? I know what you mean, maybe we can ask Lord Riejou when we next see her after the storm.”

Myrtri looked a little conflicted for a moment. “That’s it though, I’m not entirely sure I trust her all that much. She’s been in charge here ever since we were little kids, so if anything was kept from us, it would have been her call.”

“Maybe you’re just scared of authority figures. Nearly every time you talk to them they’re telling you off for something or other.” Beth laughed, but they both knew how inside she agreed with him.

Myrtri elbowed her for the comment, looking up at the gondola of the leviathan next to them. It belonged to a man named Keif, someone whom neither of them ever really spent all that much time with. In their peculiar family of people who weren’t related to them, he was their boring, distant uncle. The motion of it swaying around below the beast made him feel lightheaded and nauseous, and so he had to look away.