Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Two - Southbound

“Sails are checked, fuel bunker’s at full, the engine’s purring like it’s brand new, and I’ve greased everything that’s supposed to move and bolted down everything that shouldn’t,” Awen said all in one big breath. “We’re fit to fly, Captain Broccoli.”

I nodded, then turned to Clive. “Scallywags and the boys are at their stations, capt’n,” he said before clicking his pipe into place between his lips.

Adjusting my hat, I looked across the Beaver Cleaver’s deck. My friends and crewmates were all assembled at their posts. The Scallywags, Oda, Joe, and Sally, were ready to tug sails into place. Steve was with Gordon by the mooring line. Awen, of course, was nearby, wearing a rather stained set of overalls with some tools looped into her belt.

Calamity stood by as well, willing to help, but clearly not sure how, and Caprica was similarly lost. That was fine, we’d show them how to do a thing or two to keep the ship in tip-top shape.

Our ship's cat, Grand Admiral Orange (Retired), was snoozing on one of the figure heads, as she was wont to do, and Amaryllis...

Amaryllis came out from the lower decks and turned to glance up to me where I stood by the poop deck’s wheel. “Stowaway check complete,” she said. “We’re clear.”

Caprica shot me a look at that, but she didn’t say anything, not before I grinned and started barking orders. “Alright! Let’s go, everybun! Lines away! Engines to quarter speed, Clive. Amaryllis, signal the tower that we’re taking our exit now, please. Keep those sails in tight until we’ve cleared the docks!”

The Beaver’s deck became a hive of chaotic activity for a moment, and I did what I could to help direct it.

Really, I wanted to be down there helping, but Clive had told me that someone keeping others on task was sometimes more important than having one more pair of hands on deck. Plus from up here, I could tell where the help was needed and could keep an eye out for things beyond the ship itself.

The Storm Tower’s massive internal dock was filled with literally hundreds of ships, so there was a lot to keep an eye on as we moved out of our mooring and into the tower’s centre. It was hard to tell who had the right of way at the best of times, but fortunately, the dwarves and elves of the Storm Tower had devised a system using flashing lights and magical holograms to indicate who could move and who had to stay still.

I kept glancing at that until our turn was up.

“Alright, we’re climbing,” I said. “Slow and steady Clive, this isn’t a race.”

“Aye aye, capt’n,” he said as he adjusted another lever with a satisfying clunk.

The Beaver lurched slightly, then started to rise up past the other levels of the dock. We started to spin a little, I noticed, probably because of all the shifting winds within the microclimate of the tower. “Gordon! Deploy the aft sail to half!” I called.

“Aye!” he replied before adjusting the sail. It slowed the spin down considerably, and I gave a satisfied nod.

We crested out of the domed top of the tower, and with a bit of power to the Beaver’s engines, we pushed forwards and out into the open midday sun.

I laughed as a cool wind from the north swept across the deck and took with it the heavy industrial scent that filled the Storm Tower. The crew cheered, but we quickly got back to work. The traffic here was no less busy just because it wasn’t confined within the cramped tower.

“Direction?” Clive asked.

I glanced at the ship compass built into the railing far from anything metallic. “Current heading is east-south-east, take us due south, please,” I said.

Clive nodded, then spun the wheel a little. The rudder creaked and the engine rumbled beneath us, shaking the entire deck with an all too familiar purr.

Speaking of purrs, I glanced down as I felt something around my leg, and noticed Orange had moved from the front of the ship to be closer. Had the cold ruined her nap spot? I scooped her up into my arms and let her tuck herself into my chest for warmth.

The next few minutes were all about adjusting sails and trim, getting the engine going at a nice comfortable thrum, and lowering our altitude a little to something more reasonable to let the high-flying traffic of the Storm Tower by.

Once everything was set up nice and neatly, I charged Calamity with keeping an eye out for approaching ships and left Clive at the wheel. Amaryllis was gesturing me closer and I descended from the poop deck to join her on the main deck where she was holding a folded-up map firmly, so as to not let the wind snatch it away. She held out the map for me to see. "We're here," she said, her talon tapping a little symbol representing the Storm Tower.

"Alright," I nodded.

She traced a line all the way down, along the western edge of the Harpy Mountains, and finally around to Port Royal, at the very south of that mountain range. “That’s our destination. We have at least two, maybe three weeks of travelling ahead of us.”

“We’re going to do it all in one go?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I wish, but no, we don’t have the fuel for that. I think our best bet would be to make our first stop by Codwood. It’s a small settlement, or maybe a colony? It belongs to the Endless Swells. It’s not too far off from here. We can top up on fuel then head to Inkwren, which is an independent city.”

“Alright,” I said as I followed her trajectory. It still brought us in a more or less straight line south. “Why not somewhere closer to the Harpy Mountains?”

“News and fuel prices, mostly. And the mountains might be a slightly straighter path, but they’re harder to navigate. The winds are treacherous, and we’ve had pirate problems on the Harpy Mountain borders before.”

“Ah, we wouldn’t want that,” I said.

She looked at me. “No, we would not, Broccoli.”

I cleared my throat and abandoned my dreams of aerial battles... for the moment. “Anyway, after Inkwren, we make for Port Royal?”

“If fuel allows. We could stop by the capital. I think you’d enjoy that. Or keep south and refuel at Cherryhold, though the fuel prices there are obscene.”

I nodded along. “We’ll figure that out once we’re closer. It’ll depend on how much time we have until Booksie and Rhawrexdee’s wedding, too.”

“I plan on learning that as we travel further south. You can bet that kind of news will be travelling north as well,” Amaryllis said. “We just have to hope that we’re going to get there on time. If we heard about it here, then the news has been out for a while. Weeks, at least.”

“And Booksie is moving fast with her wedding plans,” I agreed. How long had she been dating Rhawrexdee for? Two, three months? Maybe a little more? That was almost scandalous! My mom told me that I could only marry someone if I had her and my dad’s approval, and we had dated for at least five years! And even then, nothing more exciting than hand-holding could happen.

Which was weird, because my mom and dad were both hippies, and I thought that meant they were a lot more open about that kind of thing.

“I think the closer we come, the more accurate the news. Let’s focus on getting to Codwood first. It’s a small settlement next to the unimaginatively named Blue Lake. Shouldn’t be hard to find, the lake’s quite large.”

I looked at the map again and spotted Codwood. It was a bit east and lots south of us, but there were a few rivers coming out of the lake, or heading into it? In any case, if we went eastward and found one of those, we could follow it to Codwood and not risk getting lost as much. “Alright, I’ll get us heading in the right direction,” I said. “Can you replace Calamity on watch in about an hour?”

“I can, you need him for something?”

“I’ll be too busy to cook,” I said. Calamity was actually a surprisingly good chef when he felt like it. Years of making grub at different hunter camps, or so he said, made him something of an expert when it came to making simple, hearty meals.

He was better than most of us at cooking, at any rate. Maybe he had a general skill for it? I’d have to ask.

“Fine,” Amaryllis said. Her own cooking skill--or lack thereof--was a smidge of a sour point for her. “Call me if you need help charting our course again.”

“Will do,” I said.

I returned to the wheel, taking over from Clive so that he could refill his pipe and take a bit of a break while I navigated us away from the Storm Tower. The further we went, the fewer ships were in the air. It was very apparent once we flew past the limits of the city and its many suburbs and little farming communities. The air traffic went from bustling and kind of scary to only a few scarce ships dotting the sky to the east and south.

The eastward traffic was probably from Sissifin, the Snowland’s second largest city, and the rest probably came from Stormshark, though that city was coastal, so I imagined more freight was probably moved over water instead of through the air?

Of course, I was just speculating. However, that sounded about right. I knew air travel was faster, but it also came with hard limits on weight and a higher cost overall for fuel and crew and ship maintenance.

A sea-going ship in poor repair wasn’t great, but it would probably not sink. An airship in poor repair was a disaster.

Fortunately, the Beaver Cleaver was not only the nicest ship in the sky, he was also in good shape, what with Awen always being hard at work fixing all the little bits and bobs that wore out and broke.

I had to think of a cute gift to give her for all her hard work. Maybe some tools or something?

No, it wasn’t usually a good idea to get someone a hobby-related gift, not unless you also know a lot about the hobby and what that person in particular needed.

Maybe we’d see what they had in Codwood! I was looking forward to seeing another new town! One from a nation whose towns and cities I’d never even visited before.

“Hey, Clive,” I said.

“Hmm?” he asked.

“Ever been to Codwood?”

He nodded. “Small place. Or was, about six... seven years back. Growing at the time, though. Lots of trouble with the cervid, I think.”

“Oh?” I asked, ears perking at the sound of potential trouble.

“Tensions, ya know?”

I bet I could help with that! Plus it would be nice to practice with some of my new skills. I’d just unlocked Social Butterfly by merging a bunch of skills, and I’d barely used it yet. So hopping my way into a heap of social trouble seemed like a great way to grind the skill.

“You’re having what lady Albatross would call ‘ideas’ again, aren’t ya capt’n?” Clive asked.

“Huh? Oh, no, just planning ahead is all!” I said. Fortunately, Cleaning magic was great at wicking away sweat.

I refocused on flying the Beaver straight and true and keeping an eye out on the skies for any signs of trouble.

It would take a day or two to reach Codwood, so maybe I could use that time productively. I wasn’t grinding my skills as much as I could recently, and with all the adventures we were having, well, it would make sense to make sure I was at the top of my game!

No more lazy buns! It was time to get to work!

... But maybe only after supper.

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