’Will we follow Qhawadha all the way south?’ Jupiter looked to port — to his left. The pylons and its ropeway tracked across the rolling landscape of hills and mountains. He wanted to follow it, but not so close they could be seen from the vessels pulled along the route.

But with manisaur eyesight perhaps we’ve been tracked from the beginning.

‘No.’ Tamm said. ‘There is a mountain ridge that intersects the cable. Quedhari - two paths on a saddle low on the mountain. We will follow this less travelled route across the continent.’

‘There is a poem…’ Pariqhamtu began.

‘Of course there is.’ Jupiter groaned.

Pariqhamtu paused to gather breath and then sang. It was as if a songbird sang a final aria celebrating the end of day. The Thaluk sprang into his mind from the twitters and warbles of the soaring quevantaqi song.

Qhanata'nakhe jhavara,

Thalan shaquroa sha'vhaqara.

Thiraqarun thunavasha,

Pajaqami vu'qan thaqarasha.

Rathasha Qhayuhanpathi,

Naru zharaqami thirasha.

Aqaqa'qi hana'qi,

Pajaqami thaqarun shaqarasha.

Aqaqa'qi hana'qi,

Qhayuhanpathi thunava.

Qhavara zharaqami thirasha,

Naru zhavaqikun sha'vhaqara.

Jupiter puzzled that out for a while, he got the gist of a fork in a path as a metaphor for decisions in life… but then Maggie sang in English -

‘I swing along

And come upon

A branch a fork a break

my way is stopped

And forced to opt

for change renew I wake

My route goes left

My heart goes right

A single life I lead

My hope is forward

My reach is onward

I swing, my path, succeed’

‘And Quedhari is this branching fork?’ Jupiter said once he had thought about that for a time.

‘Yes.’ Tamm pointed out the direction for Jupiter. ‘Along the ridge There is no great cable powered by wind and water and beast. So upon the ridge is a lesser Way — dhavara for gharumal to pace and tow skyships. And there is a small wayhouse. We can take refuge there tonight. It is best to be away from the main Qhawadha. If we keep to our southern heading we can fly further from The Way. We will soon intersect the forked path.’

Jupiter eased forward even as he pulled the tiller and steering vanes to him. The outrigger banked, he leaned out and The Jupiter slid off towards the right. Happy to be away from the view of any skyships drawn along Qhawadha, he looked to what lay ahead.

The Air Lord hunted him. And he really did not want to be caught. That was a path — dhavara he was very keen to turn from.

A great spreading forest lay in the shadow of the falling sun between the hills and mountains, and where the trees crested the ridges they shone with a golden green hue. A mist rose in the cooling humid air and flowed like spun gold lace as it shifted and flowed in the gentle winds between the taller trees.

The Jupiter flew on, even in the light breeze, in part because the slightest wind gave enough forward motion to start the increasing apparent wind that caused them to outrace the wind. But Jupiter also used the shape of the land to surf the air. He would dive down a hillside and, in the increased wind speed, rise on updraft to crest the next slope.

The fork off Qhawadha stretched along a ridge cleared of trees. A flat almost manicured cut, fringed with low lying plants, topped the ridge line. The sun highlighted the path as it stretched towards the west.

The varunaraqayu - wayhouse, not one building but several, spread along the road and down the side of the steep hillside to either side. The area around the expansive structure had been cleared of trees and terraced for gardens and open work spaces. Several huge gharumal were hobbled in a stockade next to a huge barn. The buildings all had steeply pitched shake roofs and wooden boarded upper storeys. A cross-timbered pylon — a skyship mooring rose next to the barn but there were no skyships tethered there that afternoon.

Jupiter brought the outrigger down next to the pylon where a wide space seemed best suited for landing. Breeze slowed the kheel to a stop as they bumped to the packed earth. The crew rolled off the platforms and helped lower the sail. Jupiter spun up the kheel a little, to reduce weight, and they manoeuvred The Jupiter to the side of the barn to a more sheltered position. Tamm went in search of the varaqayumi - wayhouse keeper.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The base level of each building had been constructed of massive stones infilled with smaller boulders fitted so close there only the narrowest gap remained between. But Jupiter could see no mortar. The outermost structures stepped down the hill and seemed almost hewn from the rock of the mountain. A basement and several lean-tos were set up around the base of the barn which had a strong animal smell.

‘Dhomqari,’ said Pariqhamtu as Jupiter wrinkled his nose. ‘This raqayu is a staging post. Travellers hire fresh draft animals as they pass along the path.’

‘There are no other travellers at present.’ Tamm said as he joined them. ‘The varaqayumi will join us shortly.’

’There is a least one Gharumal caravan hauling two skyships some distance along The Way. They will come with the setting of the sun.’ Pariqhamtu pointed towards to the east.

‘I can’t see anything.’ Jupiter squinted.

‘I noted their passage some time ago. They come from Qhayuvakham. But we fast outpaced them so there is no chance it would be warned of our presence.’

‘Imperial?’

‘It is possible.’ Tamm said thoughtfully. ‘We will know soon enough, or can ask the varaqayumi. Here he is.’

Jupiter was surprised to see a tall human male approach. At his side was an old bent manisaur in deep conversation with him. They paused talking when they reached the group.

‘Tell Sukhiaraq to prepare two rooms,’ the human said to the manisaur.

‘Which ones? High or low?’ The manisaur had a deep warbling timbre to their voice in contrast to their small size. ‘They have no reservation, sent no warning.’

‘Friends.’ The man nodded up to Jupiter’s crew with almost a manisaur-like bobble of this head. ‘Well met. You are not expected. We have…’

‘Only high rooms.’ The manisaur interrupted with a slight stomp of their feet. The old one’s tail flicked to balance the sudden movement but Jupiter sensed a note of frustration in the motion.

Tamm bowed to the manisaur first, and then to the human. ‘If I may inspect the rooms, and discuss the price… but I see no fellow travellers stabled here yet.’

‘They’re coming,’ the old manisaur said. ‘We have bookings…’

‘We can accommodate you, certainly.’ The human smiled, and then looked to the humans in the group. ‘But how many rooms? I note you are male and female, manisaur and human… and aramqhami.’ The human nodded towards where The Jupiter had landed.

Jupiter smiled at the reference to Breeze as aramqhami - agent of fate. That was true enough, and this human seemed to mean it kindly rather than with the usual fear and distrust.

‘The imp… aramqhami, will bunk with me.’ Jupiter returned the man’s smile. His wrinkled, and brown face showed his advanced years, but a straight body had a strength that told of regular hard work. His full head of hair bloomed white in a halo that stirred in the wind, while his beard, peppered with grey, orange, and black had been cropped short. The man’s eyes reminded him of Qhawana, but his longer face and light brown skin told of a different ancestry.

‘But you require a room I think,’ the man said to Maggie.

‘No, That’s alright. And I can share with them both,’ she said. ‘We’re used to that, aren’t we Jupiter?’

‘Uparikami?’ The man heard the word Jupiter in the Thaluk language. ‘A remarkable name.’

‘My vessel of course.’

‘A captain? And one so young?’ The man glanced over at The Jupiter in the shadows of the barn. The mast stretched only a little higher than the dusty base of stone. He wanted to hide the outrigger. To have reached so far meant they had to have flown on the wind. But no reason to flaunt the outrigger.

‘A strange craft. Small for a skyship…’

We will have to hide it, Jupiter thought. It will attract attention to us.

‘He and the girl are from the far reaches of Empire,’ Pariqhamtu stepped out next to Maggie and bumped her shoulder gently against the girl’s side as if to suggest they let her do the talking.

‘But you are not?’

‘Indeed no.’ Pariqhamtu said no more as the human and ancient manisaur looked from one traveller to another.

They must have looked a strange combination.

The two human teens, with the imp perched on the outrigger’s side. An Imperial officer in a battered and torn uniform lacking some insignia. And a trader in sailing garb, but with a faded officer’s sash. Jupiter realised they had not really put together any explanation about how they came to be travelling The Way.

Fortunately the old manisaur seemed only interested in their coin, so when Tamm revealed his money pouch they grew less suspicious. The manisaur gave a human-like nod, turned, and strode slowly towards the varunaraqayu. The man gave a wry smile as if they had all come to understand some shared secret.

‘Come then. You have no beasts?’ The man paused as if to remark more on that. Likely few came along the spur without a draft animal. ‘I will arrange for Sukhiaraq, our housekeeper, to get you settled. I am Vilakmat, vaka to this sentinel. Though in these days we watch only the weather and for our guests. My house is yours.’

He strode away and Jupiter felt drawn after him, but he let Tamm and Pariqhamtu lead, then followed with Maggie.

‘Well that was strange.’ Maggie said as she bumped shoulders with him. ‘Hard to tell who was in charge. The human or the manisaur.’

‘Yeah.’ Jupiter said in a hushed voice close to her ear. ‘Not a lot of humans around anywhere. The hunt and the blackbirders… the exile.’

‘The manisaurs don’t mention it,’ said Maggie. ‘But they’re obviously used to humans. The exile of humans is a recent thing though. Even Qhawana did not know of it, or he would have told us.’

‘We have to get to the bottom of that…’

‘No. We just have to get home.’

Maggie and Jupiter walked around the corner onto a wide paved terrace. The chill air spoke of their height in the mountains, but the low lying sun shone bright on the north face of the building and they were warmed.

They entered a mud room, a kind of entry space with places for outdoor clothing to be hung. Jupiter was still in his wetsuit but had worn his felted jacket over it to look more like a local. Maggie wore the cut down clothing she had been given by Red-Back as they had headed south to colder lands. She doffed he felted coat and hung it in the cupboard provided. Her boots were more of Red-Back’s cast-offs, but as they were oversized she wore felted moccasins inside. For her it was easy enough to slip the large boots off, and pad into the varunaraqayu in what were effectively thick socks.

Jupiter had to make do with bare feet when he took off his neoprene and rubber sailing boots. His wetsuit had become ripped, and worn, and since he was hardly ever wet it really needed a wash. He was surprised that no one had commented on his smell. Not even Maggie.

It was time to have a bath. His dunking in the harbor the day before did not count. As Tamm and the old manisaur negotiated their rooms he looked around the varunaraqayu.

The wayhouse’s ground floor had a large communal space lit by high windows on the north, east, and west. A fire pit lay in the middle of the room, with a kitchen around one third, and sitting and dining tables clustered around it all. Around thirty guests could seat he reckoned, but no one sat there now. A fire burned in the pit while human and manisaur staff did preparation for an evening meal. The expected arrival of a gharumal skyship caravan proved no idle bluff.

Thick wooden columns circled the fire pit and supported the high beamed ceiling. A serving bar lay on the southern side, near the kitchen. Tamm stood at another counter next to the mud room entry hall as if he surveyed a battleground. Stairs next to the counter likely led up to the rooms above the common hall.

Tamm turned to him now. ‘Come, Dhakara. We have rooms, and I’ve ordered a meal.’

’I want to get The Jupiter into the barn.’

Tamm paused, but continued. ‘You are right. This is not something we can leave to the staff as we would hired post gharumal, or docking of a skyship to the pylon.’

So while Maggie, Pariqhamtu, and Breeze went upstairs, Tamm and Jupiter dropped the mast, rolled the sail, and got The Jupiter under cover.

Away from where the animals stabled in the barn they found a storage area filled with spars, and sails, and ropes. All things to repair a damaged skyship. There at least the Jupiter did not look out of place.

Jupiter remained proud of the battered craft, but he did admit that it still looked a lash-up made from found materials on a remote island. It could not compare to the craftsmanship of a skyship. But that counted in her favour. No one could guess to her true abilities. He threw a cloth over the kheel. The true heart of The Jupiter might draw curious eyes if the blue glow was spotted, even if when not spinning the glow dropped almost to nothing.

Maybe I should sleep here tonight?

But he had not eaten properly in over a day, and his mouth watered at the thought of food.

The Jupiter will be safe here.