Not long after, the Headwarden and I rejoined Aleister at the entrance to the skyship paddocks. Scrubbed clean and dressed in loose black breeches, a comfortable-looking slate-grey tunic, and the soft-soled shoes favoured by the Arkaddians, my magister cut a rather handsome figure. Three pouches and a slender dagger hung from a thin braided black belt. Peeking through the tunic’s low cut neck, I could see a jinshin, made of longtooth claws, with one of the long saber teeth of the great Plains kestin as a centrepiece. That explained the scars on his chest. Only Arkaddians who had undergone their Rite of Passage wore the jinshin as a mark of surviving.

“Well, now, don’t you look much better.”

Aleister gave a dry chuckle. “I certainly feel better, that’s for sure.” He paused, a look of longing on his face.

“Milady, if I get my belongings back, does that include the Stymphalian?”

“Stymphalian?”

“My airship. She’s not much- a converted Argosian strike-fighter.”

I turned to the Headwarden, one eyebrow raised in question.

“The airship was confiscated. It was to be turned over to the new Lord Governor after the execution,” he said.

“There will be no execution today. My magister is entitled to have his ship back.”

“Of course, Lady kyl’Solidor.” He bowed slightly, gesturing to the paddocks. “Jeltin will take you to your magister’s ship. May the winds favour you.”

“And you as well, Headwarden.”

He nodded before heading back into the depths of the prison.

“Follow me, please.” Jeltin strode out into the shipyard, pausing beyond the threshold to wait for them.

A brisk wind caught us as we exited into the Inferno’s roof, snapping my robe around my legs. Aleister tipped his head back with a contented sigh, letting the wind ruffle his hair. He favoured me with a grin.

“Figured the next time I felt the wind, it’d be them pitchin’ me over the Wall. Not the way I’d choose to fly.”

I snorted, hiding a chuckle. “Pretty sure that’s called falling.”

Aleister held her gaze, the grin vanishing. “In seriousness, milady, thank you. I’ll do my best to serve you honourably.”

“You’re welcome, Aleister. I don’t know that I could have made them free you otherwise. My services as a truthreader were not requested.”

“I asked, but the request was denied. These folk were determined to make an Arkaddian pay and, well, we just aren’t that common in the skycities.” Aleister twitched a shrug as we followed Jeltin into the paddocks proper.

The ships docked at the Inferno’s paddocks lined the broad rooftop plaza. Most were small personal ships, belonging to guards, or more likely confiscated from inmates. Two larger transports were berthed at the big corner paddocks. Aleister quickened his pace, and his excitement was a tangible thing, singing through our bond.

“There she is,” Jeltin pointed across the plaza. Aleister took off at a trot towards a graceful ship bearing the faint resemblance to an egret with a long neck and tapered bill, wings unfurled. A pair of ion cannon graced the wings. I followed at a more sedate pace, a slight smile creasing my face as I recognised the class of ship. The Stymphalian was a Kruetzet-class strike-fighter. My smile faded, and tears pricked my eyes as a half-forgotten memory swam to the surface.

*

The strike-fighter thrummed as the power grids engaged. It lifted off the decking, hovering slightly. Calloused hands reached around my own small ones to dance over the controls. The ship’s hum grew deeper as it left the Kujata’s docking bay. We left the massive flagship’s shadow, and the roughened hands lifted my own, placing them on the control panel. The ship began to drift.

“Hold her steady, love, “ a deep voice instructed.

I slide chubby fingers down the controls, evening out the ship’s flight, and tapped each gauge as I checked it. I turned to beam up at the face behind me. My father’s eyes sparkled.

“Well done! Now, log our course for Port Derwin.”

I brought up the Kruetzet’s flight display, keying in the destination coordinates. Another check of the gauges showed all was well. Satisfied, I locked the controls.

“Good job.” Melaric stepped back from the Captain’s chair. A wide grin split his face. “Now, little bird, why don’t you hop into the other chair.”

I looked up at him, then to the second chair, puzzlement furrowing my brow. I looked back to my father.

“Go on. It’s about time you learned. You’ll know your way all around this ship by the time you start the Academy.”

I scrambled out of the Captain’s chair, and into the one to its left. My hand went to a switch, then froze above it. I glanced at my father, eyebrows raised in question, and he nodded. Giddy, I flicked the switch. The gunner’s scope descended, and I swung it down before me, absorbing Melaric’s instruction.

*

I shook away the memory. That had been one of the last times I’d seen my father. There was no Fleet Academy in my future. My magick had Sparked, and I’d chosen the Kanlon over becoming a Technomancer. Mercurius’ disciples frightened me, with their monstrous alter-forms. But when children blessed with magick were taken to the Kanlon, they lost all family ties. Not that being claimed by the Technomancers would have been much better. They spent the first few years sequestered, the time spent training. A year after I’d gone to the Kanlon, I learned that my father had disappeared while on a mission, caught in a storm. Neither ship nor captain had ever been found.

Aleister was grumbling to himself as I approached. He fiddled with the hatch panel a bit more and the door hissed open, a thin set of stairs unfolding to allow entry. The Fox flashed me a mischievous grin and started up the stairs.

“HEY! What do you think you’re doing. That’s mine!” A curly-haired teen was running towards us across the plaza. I snorted. From the teen’s angry voice and the commotion now commencing at the paddock entrance, I could only assume that Lord Tysin had arrived for the execution only to discover that the Fox had slipped his trap. As the youth skidded to a stop before the Stymphalian, the crowd by the doors started towards them. The boy, face flushed crimson, opened his mouth. I narrowed my eyes.

“The airship belongs to me now. I’m afraid that’s something you’re going to have to deal with, young man, unless you care to challenge the

Sin’ of Cryshal.”

“But it’s MINE! Even the magi can’t just take stuff!”

“No, but a magister’s belongings go with him. The Stymphalian belongs to Aleister Balflear and Aleister is my magister now,” I growled. Before the boy could argue further, his father arrived, huffing and puffing.

“This is an OUTRAGE! I demand that you turn this assassin back over to me for execution. He killed our Lord Governor,” Tysin raged. I favoured him with a hard smile.

“I’m sure the Headwarden here has already explained things. You captured and tortured the wrong Arkaddian. This one is nothing more than a thief. Your assassin is still free.

Magi have the right to claim any criminal on a death-ward as their magister if they are in need. I was in need. Balflear is now my magister. No amount of outrage is going to change that.” My voice was low, dangerous.

Tysin started blustering again, but his complaints were cut off by an unearthly wail that rose abruptly, before tapering off. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, and I looked around, searching for the source. Aleister stepped closer to me, peering up at the skies. The wailing came again, joined by the Inferno’s air raid sirens. Tysin’s eyes widened. He spun around, heading back to the Inferno. His son shot me a dirty look before taking off after Tysin. The eerie cry came a third time, sounding louder, closer. A deep boom shook the paddock and I stumbled a few steps before a hand caught my elbow, steadying me. More booms rang out, shivering the plaza as the Inferno’s anti-aircraft cannon fired. Deeper explosions answered as Sevfahl’s Rim Wall cannons joined in.

“Fine time for someone to attack.” Aleister bustled me up the stairs. He slapped a panel, and the door hissed shut, muting some of the cannon blasts “I really hope they aren’t Jerachi. I don’t know if I can outrun those ships.”

“You’re worried about the Jerachi, but not the Argosians?” I asked as Aleister flung himself into the captain’s chair. I took the gunner’s place.

“The Fleet has no reason to attack a small skycity.” He glanced at me, eyebrows drawing together. “Does it?”

“No-” Words died in my throat as the paddock plaza erupted in flames. Several of the airships were struck by fireballs. Debris clattered along the Stymphalian’s hull.

“What the hells is going on?” Aleister’s voice was tight. The engines hummed to life as his fingers flew over the controls. The hum deepened as the ship lifted off. Aleister pushed a few more controls and the ship’s shields snapped into place. The Stymphalian rocked with the impact of a fireball that struck the nose of the ship. Aleister grunted as he fought to keep control.

We both screamed as the smoke cleared, revealing the source of the destruction. A nightmare visage of fangs and glittering orange scales greeted us as the giant creature filled its chest for another assault.

“Fire wyvern,” I breathed. It had been years since I’d had seen one. They were normally shy beasts, but now the skies was filled with the slender, serpentine creatures. Their tapered muzzles were graced with sensitive barbels and a sharp spike tipped the tail. Stubby horns framed the head, terminating in small spikes along the jaw line. Unlike dragons, wyvern lacked forelimbs, having only hindfeet and an expansive set of wings.

Aleister cursed as he deftly avoided another fireblast. The wyvern’s bellowed rage reverberated through the ship. The Sky Fox was living up to his name, but it was all he could do to avoid the beast’s attacks. I pulled the gunner’s scope down. My hands danced along the controls, activating the strike-fighter’s cannon. I slid the scope onto my head and it was like I hadn’t been away from an airship for decades.

“What are you doing?” Aleister’s voice was clipped. Tension radiated through our shared link, threaded through with alarm.

“Just fly!” I tracked her target, then fired the cannon, one after the other. Both ion blasts slammed into the scaly creature, knocking it from the sky. I glanced at Aleister. My magister flashed me a grin, admiration replacing alarm as I swiftly took down two more flame-scaled wyvern.

“Hold on:!” Aleister banked the ship in a sharp turn, and into a steep dive, narrowly avoiding another attack. The shrill cry of the proximity alarm was the only warning we had before a heavy weight slammed into us from above. More alarms shrieked as the Stymphalian spun out of control, a wyvern clinging to the top. The ship’s shields were keeping us intact, but the weight and scrabbling claws were draining the power fast.

I stifled a shriek as the wyvern launched off, sending the ship careening in the opposite direction. Sevfahl’s Rim Wall loomed large. Aleister cursed in Arkaddian, hands flying over the controls. I could feel his fear, bubbling over. I lowered my mental barriers and siphoned it away. I felt his mind sharpen. I closed my eyes, heart racing with the fear of two. I threw personal shields around Aleister and myself, bracing for impact. The ship pulled into a tight turn, belly scraping the Wall. Aleister leveled out the ship, taking them away from the skycity.

“You okay?”

I flinched at Aleister’s quiet question, turning wild eyes on him. I let out a slow breath, unclenching my fingers from the cannon controls.

“I’m fine.” I grimaced at the shakiness in my voice, and drew in a deep breath. Let it out slow. I brought my mental shields back up, and dropped the ones protecting our bodies as Aleister banked back towards Sevfahl.

By this time, the full artillery of the Inferno’s towers, and Rim Wall were at work, the giant anti-airship guns felling wyvern after wyvern. Two of the beasts broke away, turning their attention to the strike-fighter as we drew closer. My focus narrowed on the gunner’s scope. I winced inside as two more broken bodies went tumbling to the ocean far below. Between the city’s cannon, and Aleister’s fancy flying, the battle was soon over.

As he turned the ship back to the paddocks, he let out a shaky sigh of relief and looked over at me.

“Where’d you learn to shoot one of these?” he asked.

“My father was a Fleet Captain. His ship was the original Kreutzet, same class as this one. I spent my childhood on the flagship Kujata.” My eyes pricked with tears, and I scrubbed my face, shoving unwanted memory away. “Where’d you learn to fly one, Arkaddian?”

“Ran away from the Plainslands when I was young. Took up with an elderly Argosian who had turned to the life of a thief. He left me this ship.” Aleister flashed me a mischievous grin, one that faded as we beheld the destruction below. The Inferno’s paddocks were littered with bodies, both human and wyvern, and crews ran over the grounds, trying to get the fires under control. Aleister banked the ship and circled again, seeking a safe place to la

nd. He found one along the outer edge and brought the ship to ground.