Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Two - He’s a Real Fixer-Upper

My spoonful of oatmeal--or something so close to oatmeal that it might as well have been the same thing--dropped out of my weakened hands and I found myself looking up and across the breakfast table with wide eyes. “Really?” I asked.

Rosaline nodded. “Yup! Most of the problems it had were the kinds of things that normal maintenance would fix. The engine didn’t need replacing, and most of the mechanics inside it still work.”

I nodded along. “I guess it didn’t have any problems caused by wear and tear if it was hardly ever used,” I said.

“That’s pretty much it,” Rosaline agreed. “Most of the problems were straps rotting away and a few things going rusty or drying up, but we have people with skills that can fix that up with a wave of their talons. The sails needed replacing; they were rather moth-eaten. And the balloons were flat for too long. They needed replacing too. I hope you like blue.”

“Blue?” Awen asked. She was sitting next to Rosaline and was poking her way through a breakfast of beans and bacon.

Rosaline smiled just a bit sheepishly. “Yeah. We had some leftover balloons, the sort used by the national mountain patrol for their little patrol ships.”

“Are they a military group?” I asked.

“The guard? Nah, they patrol the passages between cities. The area can be a bit treacherous, especially in winter. Sometimes caravans get stuck in the mountains.”

I nodded. Having military signs on my ship--My ship!--would send the wrong kind of signal. We wanted to befriend people, not conquer them. “So, where’s the Beaver now?” I asked.

Rosaline huffed smugly. “In the backyard.”

I blinked, then jumped to my feet and dashed over to the far end of the dining room where a bay window overlooked the gardens behind.

It didn’t take much searching to find the Beaver Cleaver. The catamaran was hovering some hundred meters away, its keel almost hugging the ground. It was held there by a thicket of ropes all around it that were being tended by harpies in the Albatross Aeronautics uniform.

“Oh, oh gosh this is great!” I said. “We’ll need to repaint him, and maybe buy some furniture and stuff, and... oh, this is going to be fun!”

I turned to the table to see the others sharing in my excitement, or at least enjoying it.

Amaryllis waved a croissant through the air. “I’m certain we have some furniture leftover that we can donate to the cause. Right Gen-Gen?”

The ever-present butler bowed from his spot by the doorway. “Indeed, Miss. I will ask the staff to collect any spare furnishings. We can gather them for your perusal by the sheds near the vessel.”

“Thank you!” I said.

Clementine was the one to answer. “It’s nothing,” she said. And then the end of a scone bounced off her forehead.

“Don’t be so blasé!” Rosaline said. “It’s my company that’s taking the loss you know.”

“You were going to scrap it, it’s hardly a loss. And besides, it’s the clan’s company.”

I left the two to their morning ritual and rushed over to Awen. “Are you done eating?” I asked. “We can start right away!”

“Awa? I, guess?” she said.

I couldn’t help but laugh and grab her hand as soon as she was standing to pull her after me. “Amaryllis, once you’re done bonding with your sisters by arguing, you should join us!” I called back.

Awen and I left the room to the sound of three harpies squawking in protest.

Racing through the mansion with Awen was a lot of fun, but we didn’t have very far to go. Once we burst out the back it was only a few twists and turns before we reached the ship proper.

Seeing the Beaver Cleaver hovering above was way different than seeing it stuck in a mooring only lit by old magical lights. It was far more impressive in the full light of day. And also a lot more rundown.

The flaking paint was already pretty rough, but I’d noticed that last time. Now in the better lighting, I could make out rotting ropes and a few bits that were very much still rusty. “We still have a lot of work to do before he’s ready,” I said.

Awen nodded. “That’s okay. We’ll work on him together, and he’ll be the nicest ship to take to the skies in no time. Like Uncle’s Shady Lady but... ours.”

I grinned down at Awen and placed an arm over her shoulder to pull her closer. “That’s exactly right,” I said. “With your mechanical expertise and my... um, Cleaning expertise, we’ll have the Beaver Cleaver looking like the most formidable ship in the sky! I’m thinking we paint it bright colours.”

“Bright colours?” Awen repeated. “That doesn’t sound very, um, formidable.”

“Shiny colourful things can be very formidable. Formidable yet friendly,” I said.

“Ah, okay.”

I nodded while Awen nestled herself deeper into the hug. I tilted my head down so that my cheek was on her head and my ears could bend down to tickle her. “So, Awen,” I asked carefully. “I’ve seen the way you look at Rose.”

The girl stiffened.

“I think you two would be very cute together,” I said. “Rose needs someone who can love her for who she is, and she’s the kind of girl that would do everything to help someone she loves, I think.”

Awen looked up to me, bright blue eyes shining with uncertainty. “Awa. I... girls can’t--” she began.

“Girls can do whatever they want.”

Awen’s face went red, then white, then back to red in the time it took to blink twice. “I... I don’t know,” she said at last.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I tightened my hug so that I could squeeze the sad out of her. “That’s okay too,” I said. “Take your time, okay? You’re one of the smartest girls I know.” I planted a big smooch on her forehead before letting go. “Alright! Let’s start by cleaning this ship up! And then we can paint him!”

Bouncing off to the side, I waved to some of the workers. It only took a bit of asking around to find the one in charge of the whole lot and then it was only a bit of work to ask him for a lot of paint and some brushes and such to paint with.

While the workers went off to gather stuff, I bunched my legs under me, then shot up into the air to land on the Beaver’s deck. There were a few things on-deck that looked new. Some of the hoops that had ropes through them, and some of the posts for tying the ship down had been replaced, but for the most part it was as I remembered.

A look over the edge showed Awen still rooted on the spot as if she’d turned into some sort of statue. I figured it would take a bit for her to get back into motion. It was time that she deserved, though, so I left her to her thoughts. If she looked sad later then I’d do my best to cheer her up, but that was a later problem.

I eyed the scuffed and weather-stained planks that made up the deck. That could be a nice place to start.

A wave of Cleaning magic wiped away the grime and dirt and dust, then the flaky paint came off the deck like dust being blown off by the wind. It left me with a big round-ish patch a pace across that looked sparkly-clean next to the rest of the deck.

“Well then,” I muttered. That made my life easy.

I started to circle the deck while laying down a constant wave of Cleaning magic. Every step forward left a swatch of shiny deck behind me. Once the deck was done, I skipped to the second deck and repeated the process. Some magic applied to the rails left them looking fresh and new as well.

The cabin at the back was a bit trickier, there were parts I couldn’t reach from the ground, but a few Cleanballs took care of them in a jiffy.

I dipped into the cabins next. The starboard side cabin’s interior was super utilitarian. There was a big engine, with belts running off to the side, and rails all around to keep people from bumping into things.

I pushed out a big wave of cleaning magic and was quite satisfied when it left the motor looking sparkly and new. It even cleared the dust out of the air. Next, I moved towards the front of the ship--the prow?--and into a series of smallish rooms. There was a pantry with an icebox covered in runes that was filled with lukewarm water, and plenty of shelves. Next to it was a little kitchen, and past that a cargo room with a mechanism built into the ceiling to push it open.

That had to be the cargo access then. It was pretty much empty save for some broken boxes and bits of detritus left around. More cleaning magic cleared a lot of it out, but I would have to carry the boxes out myself.

The next room over were the crew quarters. One small room, probably for the first mate or captain, a little office with a fold-out bed that I guessed belonged to the quartermaster, and then a room filled with hammocks that lead to a very uncomfortable looking washroom that had to be right under the figureheads at the front. The rooms were all very tight, with ceilings so low that my ears brushed them if I didn’t crouch a bit.

Cleaning magic left the rooms clear and clean, but we’d still need to spruce it up a bunch.

I left the port hull and climbed back on deck. Awen was gone by then, but I could hear bings and bangs from the workshops. I hoped she was having fun and not just burning off frustrations.

Finding the middle ground with Awen was... hard. She was a friend, and I loved her that way. I wanted her to be as happy as she could be. But she was young. I was young too. My mom told me that you were supposed to try all sorts of things when you were young in order to find yourself, but I was pretty happy with the bun I was.

I didn’t know if I should have gone to bother her or not, so I decided to be productive and hopped over to the next hull. The starboard cabin was a bit wider, with a balcony built onto the back and windows all over that let in sunlight.

A bit of cleaning left the rooms much brighter as the grime on the windows faded away.

A level down and I was touring a series of big rooms. There were six in all, each one with a double bed in dire need of fluffing, a little dresser, and a port window looking out the side. They weren’t big rooms, only about as big as the cheapest inn rooms I’d ever visited, but space was at a premium on an airship.

The room near the prow was a teeny tiny ballroom, with wider windows than in the bedrooms and a floor that looked like it was meant to be danced on. I couldn’t think of a use for that kind of thing for our little crew, but it was a nice big area. We could turn it into a dining room, or a living area, or a training spot for non-Fireball magics.

At the very very end was a little room with a stand-up shower and the other sorts of necessities needed to keep clean and such. All of it was much nicer than on the port side.

The Beaver Cleaver was a strange little ship, but it was comfortable too. I was sure we could make it our own in time.

A little home for a little family of friends. That sounded nice.

***