Contributor: E.S. Wynn


“The men who have been there say that most of our moons are made of helium.” Helia said, half watching Lavera as she took a slow pull from a leather mug. “You hear the airship captains swapping stories about them sometimes, talking about the clockwork wonders of the rich who suspend their castles high above the earth on islands of helium and aluminum.”

“Not that you’ll ever see the likes of them.” An older serving maid shook her head as she passed, pushed a grimy rag into Helia’s hands. “Your life won’t be a far stone’s throw from mine, serving pirates and the like from cradle to grave. Just the way things are.”

“Maybe.” Lavera grinned as the old serving maid grimaced. “But I think as likely not.”

“Where are you off to from here?” Helia asked.

“Dyalla.” Lavera drained the mug, snapped it onto a loop of steel on her belt. “I hired up for a few short runs with a captain who needs an engineer with aether experience. It’s a little vacuum-and-phlogiston tug, but it’s work until I find a bigger boat to sign on with.”

“Sounds exciting.” Helia’s smile dropped at one end.

“You could come with me.” Lavera reached out, caught one of Helia’s hands. The other woman looked at her, fixed her with a stare that was half considering, half doubting. “Come on, it’ll be fun! Better than picking up after this lot.”

“What would I do, Lavera?” Helia shook her head. “I haven’t got any real experience with anything that would be useful on an airship.”

“Galley hand.” Lavera shrugged. “Or maybe you could study under me, learn a few things about clockwork and the flow of the aethers.”

Helia watched the other woman’s eyes for a moment.

“When do you leave?”

“Tonight, sundown.” Lavera grinned again. “North pier, dock nine.”