Pirin, Myraden, and Nomad were the last to return to the Featherflight, but they had found and bought a detailed map of the eastern mainland, as requested.

Once they were all aboard (and had passed the map to Alyus), they set off.

There was no point in facing overnight cargo fees and having to deal with cargo inspectors in Port Masyne. Even if the inspectors found nothing, it would be a waste of time, and they were in short supply of that.

They unfurled the airship’s sails and unhooked it from the docks, then rose up above the cliff face and sailed over the city-covered plains beyond.

Port Masyne sprawled beneath them, scrolling by for another hour. No matter where Pirin looked, there were always green and white flags and the silver glint of Dominion armour. They were in enemy territory now, and there were soldiers everywhere. Even if they weren’t wizards, he had to be concerned.

When the city ended, it revealed hilly plains and sparse trees. Some of them were fruit trees; they still had a few blue spring blossoms clinging to their branches. In the distance, a few snow-capped mountains peered up on the horizon.

It might have been a peninsula—and he didn’t doubt what he saw on the maps—but Seisse was still wide enough that it was impossible to tell even when flying above it.

“So, cat-man,” Alyus said to Nomad. “To Plainspar, yeah?”

“Cat-man?”

“Yeah, it’s not a great one.” Alyus scratched his chin and his thin beard. “I’ll come up with a better nickname for you at some point…Pirin’s called ‘elfy’, and Myraden’s ‘antlers’.”

Nomad inhaled sharply, as if about to rebuke the ostal captain, but he only said, “Yes, we are going to Plainspar. I’ll mark the location of the estate on the map, so you have a precise target to aim for.” Then, he took a few steps back to stand beside Pirin and gaze out one of the gondola’s side windows. He whispered, “These were the best crewmen you could find?”

“Well…I didn’t have a ton of options,” Pirin whispered back. “But they’re good people.”

Alyus turned the Featherflight southeast, veering away from the mountains and turning further away from the hilly plains. But by the time the sun set, the land below was still choppy and hilly. Nomad had promised that the nations and cities of the Mainland were less spread-out than Pirin was used to, but for now, he only saw a different city’s light glimmering on the northern horizon. They’d pass it by.

But he couldn’t expect an instant journey.

With five crew members now, it was easy enough to sail through the night. Pirin wasn’t tired, so he kept the first watch while Alyus held the ship’s wheels in place.

First, Pirin deposited the crystal fox in the crew quarters—he left it curled up on the lower cot—then said, “Goodnight!” to Myraden. She mumbled something in response and flopped down on the top cot. Then he walked to the cargo hold, where Kythen and Gray slept. He didn’t have his Reyad active, so Gray could sleep and so his Essence channels could rest. But he still made sure the Familiars were comfortable in their nests of twigs and straw bedding.

Then he climbed up through the envelope and gasbags until he reached the upper viewing platform. He could watch for threats the best up top.

There was no snow on the ground anymore, and most of the trees had deployed summer leaves. The winds didn’t make him shiver, and for the most part, they carried a natural, flowery scent. But every so often, a whiff of smog and city pollution caught up to him.

He resorted to cycling, practicing the Gap Millstone Cycle. He held it for five minutes, then six, then five, and five again, then seven, and so on. He slowly pushed his limit up as the magenta moons rose up into the sky.

A few hours before midnight, when his watch was almost over, wingbeats fluttered amidst the rushing wind. He tilted his head into the wind and his pointed ears perked up. Those were birds’ wings—almost like gnatsnappers, except stronger and deeper.

Pirin spun in a circle, looking for the birds. He nudged his glasses higher up on his nose, but he was farsighted; it wouldn’t help.

After a few seconds, a squadron of black specks passed in front of a wispy, moonlit cloud. There were ten birds, and all of them had a lightly armoured ride atop them. Rather than gnatsnappers, these birds more closely resembled magpies—but with pure brown.

One rider carried a banner with a white and green flag. Dominion patrol.

Pirin knelt and crept to the edge of the platform, then leaned out toward the birds. The squadron veered toward the Featherflight.

Not good.

Pirin jumped back to his feet and threw open the hatch, then slid down the ladder to the crew hold. He landed with a thud, and Nomad, Brealtod, and Myraden sprang upright.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Dominion patrol,” Pirin said. “They’re coming toward us.”

He slid down to the gondola and told Alyus the same thing.

The captain turned and asked, “Rockwings, then? Brown feathers, long beaks, soulless eyes?”

“If that’s what they’re called…yes, I saw those.”

“It’s the Dominion’s main service bird. Doesn’t have as long of range as a gnatsnapper, so they must have launched from a nearby airfield.” Alyus turned around and ran back to the ladder. “I’ll get Brealtod to man the wheels, then I’ll negotiate with the riders.”

“What do they want?”

“Probably looking for a cargo pass and registration.”

“We don’t have that, do we?”

“This is the first time I’ve been to the mainland in a decade,” said Alyus. “If I could find any registration, it’d be extremely out of date.”

Pirin held the wheel until Brealtod descended the ladder. As soon as the dragonfolk man grabbed the wheel, Pirin stepped back and pulled his mask from his haversack, ready to don it at any moment. He knew exactly how well Alyus’ negotiating would go.

Then he climbed the ladder. Myraden knelt in the center of the crew quarters, unwinding her spear and strapping on her armour. “Need a hand?” he whispered.

“I will be fine,” she said, tightening the strap of her single shoulder pauldron.

Talons clattered on the wooden platform high above. Pirin shut his eyes, imagining the Dominion rockwing riders landing on top of the platform. There would only be room for one or two of the birds to cling, and that was if they could slow themselves down enough. He couldn’t see the riders, but their mounts’ wingbeats fluttered. He guessed they were circling around.

He climbed the ladder from the crew quarters to the axial catwalk. He could hear Alyus’ voice now—seeping through the viewing platform up above.

“Just a quick hop between cities, that’s all,” Alyus said. “Carrying some express mail from Port Masyne to Kyemo Castle.”

“What’s an ostal captain doing serving mail for the eastmen?” came a voice that Pirin didn’t recognize. It must have been one of the pilots. “Be proud of your horns; you are above this by birth!”

“We’ve all gotta pay the bills,” Alyus countered.

Footsteps rattled down the axial catwalk beside Pirin. Nomad ran over, keeping his steps soft. Pirin whispered, “They aren’t going to accept it…”

“Of course not,” Alyus replied. “They would arrest an ostal for captaining a ship as small as this, as it smears the honour of their empire. They’d say that’s a job for a man or an elf, not an ostal.”

Pirin rubbed his forehead. Alyus should’ve known.

Or maybe he did know, and was just unwilling to behave anything like his Mainland brethren.

Either way, he would get them in trouble.

“Get Gray,” Nomad said. “We’ll hold them off from the ship, but you’re the only one who can face them in the air. Easily. I reckon I could fly if I wanted to, but only if it’s absolutely necessary..”

Pirin nodded, then sprinted down the axial catwalk. When he reached the ladder to the cargo hold, he dropped down. He landed in a crouch on the lattice walkway that ran around the edge of the hold. A cargo elevator waited in the middle of the hold, and that was where Gray had built her nest.

She was awake, and she was looking around, her eyes wide. Pirin slipped his mask onto his face and fuelled the runes, activating his Reyad. The weight and shock of the bond blasted through his veins, but he stayed standing. He shook out his arms for a few seconds, letting the tingle faded, then pulled a lever on the wall.

The fabric floor beneath the cargo elevator dropped open, and outside air rushed in. There was a gap between the lattice walkway and the cargo platform, and it would be big enough for Gray to fly out of.

What’s going on? Gray asked. Kythen perked up beside her, looking around inquisitively. But he wouldn’t be much good in this fight.

“Dominion bird-riders found us,” Pirin said, passing the message through their Reyad with intent. “A patrol or inspection of some kind. We can’t talk them off.” He placed a hand on his sword, then jumped across from the walkway to the cargo elevator.

Ah. Fun nighttime surprise. It’s not midnight yet, is it?

“It’s close. But we’ll still get some sleep, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Look, I’ll be grouchy if I don’t.

Climbing into Gray’s saddle, he patted her neck. “There aren’t any wizards with them. We’ll make it quick.”

He tightened his legs on the side of the saddle—the signal to hop forward—and placed his hands on her nape. “Ready to fly?”

Gotta stretch my wings at some point, right?

“That’s the spirit.”

They leapt off the cargo platform and dove straight towards the hilly fields below. When the wind whipped so fast that it pulled Pirin’s hair straight back, they were going fast enough. He leaned back and pulled up on Gray’s nape, and she arced out of the dive. With a flutter, she looped back up.

To get a good view of their surroundings, Pirin and Gray rolled. He barely had to give the command; she already knew what he wanted through their link.

Nomad stood on the stern balcony of the Featherflight’s gondola, an orb of air swirling above one of his hands. Blue claws of manifested Essence hovered in the air behind him. He held his flute-staff in his other hand, and his Familiar perched on his shoulder.

Alyus stood on the top platform, his hands raised. Two of the riders had landed on the upper platform and dismounted, and now, they pointed swords at Alyus—standard silver Dominion longstings. The other eight riders circled above, holding longbows. Every single rider was an ostal.

Pirin narrowed his eyes and drew his sword. Faintly, he registered the other pilots shouting at him, but Pirin aimed only for the soldiers around Alyus. He activated his pseudo-fortification technique, surrounding his arm with whooshing wind. It crept out along the blade of the sword.

He leaned out to the side of the saddle and swooped down at the two pilots. He held his sword steady until the last minute and slashed through the two dismounted pilots in a single swipe. His enhanced sword, with a shield of air around it, hacked straight through the riders’ light armour.

Pirin passed in a blur, and the Dominion pilots collapsed. Their mounts took off in fright.

“Defend the ship!” Pirin yelled to Alyus.

He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. There were still eight more pilots to deal with, and they weren’t as vulnerable. “Let’s go hunting, Gray.”

You don’t have to ask me twice! Well, yes, you kinda did, but look, I’m trying these idiom things, and…no, that’s not an idiom, is it. She paused. Right. Yes. Going hunting!