“An airship!” Ryn hadn’t even seen one of those before--though he had heard tales of them--let alone been on one. He could barely believe it.

“It must have had to bank to dodge out of the way of something,” Nuthea continued. “Perhaps another airship, or a passing dragon. That or maybe my people have finally caught up to this ship...”

Ryn stood up and brushed some of the dust from himself, pinched his nose. Their collision hadn’t helped his aching head. “Your people?”

“I’m Manolian royalty,” said Nuthea. “A princess. How did you think I was Crystal-touched? My people will come to rescue me soon.”

Ryn’s mouth hung open. He couldn’t help it: A real princess. He hadn’t thought that he would ever see one of those in his lifetime either, let alone get close enough to meet one.

For the first time he noticed properly what she was wearing--a white dress inlaid with patterned gold thread, which she filled amply in certain places and which was slender in certain others. Woman, definitely woman, not girl.

“It’s rude to stare,” said the Manolian Princess Nuthea. He couldn’t tell if it was pride or irritation that inflected her words this time.

“Can you get us out of this cell?” Ryn said to change the subject. The only thing he was sure of at the moment was that they needed to get out of this cell.

“No,” said the princess. “I told you earlier. I cannot see the way out. Yet. I’ve been locked in here for what must be about a week and I haven’t been able to think of a way out.”

Ryn looked her up and down again. She looked pretty good for someone who had been locked in a cell for seven days. Maybe she was exaggerating.

Nuthea gestured through the dark towards the far wall. “There’s a door over there with a hatch in the bottom. Once a day they open the hatch and kick in a bowl of slop and a bit of bread.” She motioned to another corner. “And there’s a bucket over there for...well, it’s not dignified to speak of. You’ll have to turn around and shut your eyes.” At that she made a brief little sobbing sound, like the thought of peeing in the company of somebody else was too much for her, but she put a hand to her mouth to stifle it.

Ryn shook his head. He still couldn’t believe that any of this had happened.

Another wave of grief rolled through his guts. It was like he was momentarily forgetting that he had seen both his parents die and his town being burned to the ground, but every now and again he remembered it, and the memory sent another tremor of pain through his body.

He should think of something else to ask Nuthea. At least keeping the conversation going with her distracted him a little, for now. If he could keep the conversation going, maybe he could avoid falling down into the huge yawning abyss of despair opening up beneath him; maybe he could avoid paying attention to the horrible, throbbing pain in his head.

Before he could think of what to say next, though, another tremendous boom sounded and the whole cell shook, sending them both onto their backsides again.

That one hadn’t come from above, but from somewhere off to the side of them.

“It’s not just banking coincidentally!” exclaimed Nuthea from her place on the floor, like she was having some kind of epiphany. “That sounded like a blow from a cannonball! Someone’s attacking this ship! But why? Why would my countrywomen do that? They know I’m on board!”

Ryn nearly joked that if she spoke to her ‘countrywomen’ like she spoke to him then they would probably have no hesitancy about blowing her out of the sky, but he thought better of it. His mind always came up with stupid jokes when he was nervous, or scared out of his wits like he was now.

Nuthea didn’t look scared out of her wits, though. In fact, before she had voiced the thought about her countrywomen attacking her she had been smiling.

“Er...why is it a good thing that we’re being attacked?” Ryn asked.

Another booming noise and the whole cell vibrated again, making them wobble. That one had definitely come from underneath them. Whoever was attacking the ship--if indeed that was what was happening--seemed to be aiming at different parts of it.

Nuthea frowned, furrowing her forehead. “Because it might give us a chance to escape, dim-wit! Do try to keep up.”

Another cannon-blow.

Ryn felt that one in his teeth. The vibrations were getting stronger.

“And just how will it do that?” he asked. The threat and curiosity were distracting him from his grief, for the moment. He didn’t mind.

“Don’t you see?” said Nuthea. “So far on this journey I’ve been trapped in this cell behind steel walls, unable to use my gift. But I’m the most precious thing on this vessel. (Well, I suppose you might be of some value, too…) If there’s a sky battle, or this ship goes down, they’re going to want to know where I am and keep hold of me. Come on, come with me.”

Ryn stood and followed Nuthea over towards one side of the cell where she had indicated the door was. The reverberations from another cannonball knocked them from their feet again, so they settled for crawling towards the door.

How can she be so calm about this? Ryn thought as he crawled next to Nuthea.

Shouts and the clang of metal came from beyond the cell door. Ryn voiced his question over the noise: “Why are you so relaxed about the possibility that this ship might go down?”

“Shhhh!” Nuthea chastised him in a loud whisper. “Just wait against the wall on that side of the door!”

Too bewildered to protest, Ryn made it to the wall next to the door and used it to push himself up, then flipped himself around so he had his back pressed flat against it. On the other side of the door Nuthea did the same. She held a finger to her lips, then whispered just loud enough to be heard, “When they come through, stay out of my way--let me handle them.”

Ryn gulped, then nodded, bracing himself against the violence of another cannonball-strike.

They didn’t have to wait very long.

Some of the voices beyond the door grew suddenly louder. Then it flew open and three Imperial soldiers in black plate ran into the cell one after the other, going straight past Nuthea and Ryn.

Some of the same soldiers that had burned Ryn’s hometown to the ground.

The soldiers looked left and right. “Where are the prisoners?” one of them said. “We need to secure the prisoners!”

They turned round.

“Only three?” Nuthea said. “You Imperials are getting stupider.”

She put out her hands, palms open, and they glowed white. The glow lit up her face: her eyes had doubled in size and her jaw set solid in a look of cold fury.

Ryn watched in horror as Nuthea screamed, shrill and high, and something that he could only identify as blue lightning lanced out from her hands with a crack, connecting with the soldiers. Three eye-blinks, and the shape of the lightning shifted three times, three different sets of jagged blue bolts linking each of the soldiers and Nuthea’s fingertips.

The soldiers screamed.

The lightning subsided, but the screams didn’t, at least not right away. Each of the soldiers collapsed to the floor, wavy steam hissing up from their armour and bodies. The air smelled of burning. Nuthea had cooked them in their uniforms with…

...lightning?

“I said it’s rude to stare, dim-wit.”

“That was...amazing...” said Ryn.

One side of Nuthea’s mouth curled up ever so slightly. “Come on, let’s get out of this cell.”

Another cannonball hit the ship with an almighty crash.

Rushing air filled Ryn’s ears and he found himself on his back on the floor again. The cell filled with sunlight. Then, almost as quickly as it had come, the sunlight receded into shadow as the whole floor began to move, upwards on one side, downwards behind him.

Oh gods, Ryn thought. They’ve blown a hole in the cell wall.

But there was no time to ponder. The floor was still tilting backwards, and Ryn had started slipping down it.

He flailed about in desperation and reached for the open door that was quickly moving away from him as the floor tilted further.

Nuthea did the same thing and bashed into him, then bounced off. She cried out in panic.

As the airship continued to tilt, Ryn managed to catch hold of the edge of the door-jamb in the wall in front of him--which was now an opening in the ceiling above him.

For a heartbeat his legs dangled by themselves--then something caught on one of them and pulled him down--hard.

Ryn clutched onto the door jamb with all his might. The weight was yanking him downwards, but by clenching his fingers and enduring the pain that lanced along his arms, he managed to stay holding onto the doorframe.

Above him, the door that had been opened earlier swung shut, down onto his fingers.

Ryn cried out as his fingertips flared with pain. But he managed to keep holding on, just.

A noise filled his ears and he realised that he had been temporarily deafened by the last cannonball that had torn into their cell. But the deafness was fading now, replaced by an angry growl, growing in pitch and volume, that must mean that this airship was heading for the ground. Fast.

Ryn risked a look down.

Below him, clutching onto his right boot, was the golden-haired form of Nuthea.

She looked up at him, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead, mouth a rictus of fear. It was the first time Ryn had seen her show fear this whole time.

“Don’t let go!” she called over the sound of the descending airship.

“That’s easy for you to say!” Ryn shot back.

Beyond her was the pale blue of the sky, and wisps of white cloud rapidly hurtling upwards, some of them coming up into the opened cell. A jagged square of splintered metal framed the window of rising sky. Their attackers, whoever they were, had indeed ripped a hole in the wall of the cell with one of their cannonballs.

“Argh!”

One of Ryn’s hands gave way and slipped off the doorframe. He tried to wrench himself up with his remaining arm to find a better purchase to hold onto, but it only quivered in painful protest and refused to move him further than a half-inch.

Ryn sank back down, his arm fully extending, the muscles in it feeling like they were about to snap.

“I don’t think I can hold on much longer!” He called down to Nuthea in panic. “Get ready, we’re going to--argggghh!”

Air and cloud rushed around them.