Peter sipped a meat broth thick with dried meat and beaded with fat. It was strange to start the day with meat soup but the Clan needed the calories in this cold land.

He knew now how desperate they were to get better stores, a better range of foods. Many of the clan moved with a weary tread, their skin and hair without gloss or the sheen of health. It had only been a matter of weeks for him and already Peter craved something green to eat, but this white land in the grip of winter had little to eat but the grazing beasts the Clan herded. And the green only the dark, almost black, of the mountain beech forests.

Peter pulled the chocolate bar from his pocket, the urge to eat it strong. But he resisted.

Not the time to eat this. Not yet.

The warmth of the soup, and the air within the quiet rider’s tent, had eased the pains of the past few days on the back of his mount. A night’s sleep had done wonders too and he almost felt content.

Shouts came through the felted layers, then someone ripped open the tent flap and light and the noise of the roused camp burst in.

‘The River Clan. We have found them, but they are under attack.’

Peter followed them outside along with other sleepy riders and instantly regretted it. He had shed his warm layers in the tent now he needed them. Back inside he dressed in a rush while the sound of riders readying to depart swirled around like the snow kicked up by the morning breeze.

‘Come on Girl,’ Peter called to his mount as he pulled his layers around his head. But he struggled with his saddle webbing, trying to get Girl to sit upon the spread out harness. Dusty scrambled to help him.

‘You know your beast, but not all our ways. We do not drop the webbing until we have settled for a long camp. If needs be we depart in a hurry from a night camp.’

Girl stood and Dusty tied off the last ropes just as Varuq'hat bounced up.

‘We must be off. Why do you delay? There is no time.’

The imp scrambled up Girl’s flank and Peter thought he would have ridden off with Girl if she would let him. But his mount cocked her head and looked back at the imp and snorted at him as if to blow him off.

‘Meat eaters smell. Something rotten. Just don’t tell her I said that.’

Dusty’s mount ran passed. Peter had stepped up Girl’s muzzle, she tossed her head a little, sending him into the air, impatient for him to get into the saddle. Peter whirled his arms for balance as Girl rose under him, but he neatly landed on her back at the peak of the toss so he slipped into the saddle with ease.

Facing backwards.

‘Need to work on that Girl. And warn me next time you decide to throw me about.’

The imp chittered in laughter and shoved his chest until he got himself turned about.

The mount trumpeted and drove her legs forward after Dusty and the posse of riders, twenty in all, that raced after the lead scout that had found the River Clan and the skyship in the early dawn light.

The sun had barely risen, and the clouds still had a pink blush that colored the snow a warm shade not matched by the frigid wind that blew across their way. It seemed as if the mounts ran on cloud, leaving no footprints. The wind raised spindrift snow that rolled in small balls. The snow kicked up by the clawed mounts pelted Peter’s face with tiny stings and he pulled a wrap across his face and lowered his wooden visor across this eyes.

‘Go girl. Let’s get them.’

‘Finally. Some enthusiasm and urgency. Well about time.’ The imp had somehow got hold of some Clan clothing.

Probably stole from a child.

But Varuq'hat still pressed his body against Peter’s back, small hands gripped in the fur-feather folds of his cloaked dust jacket.

Girl knew her heading and kept pace with the other riders as the pink dawn light shaded blue as the cloud lifted and the sun shone free.

There ahead Peter saw the dark shape of the skyship tangled in the tops of the forest. Then he heard the baying of the ravening beasts.

‘Varuq'hat? You sure you want to get close to those fiends again?’

‘Like my life depended upon it. Because it does.’

‘They didn’t crash did they?’ The imp warbled over Peter’s shoulder. ‘Looks like they crashed. Why are they stuck in the trees?’

‘Too soon to tell. Maybe they thought the trees were a safe place. An oasis of trees.’

‘Oh very funny,’ said Varuq'hat. ‘You’ve been waiting to say that haven’t you?’

‘You’re not wrong Mr Imp — Tree Oasis — Varuq'hat. Though I’m not sure trees would keep them safe from blackbirders. If they’re anything like manisaurs they can climb.’

‘They’re not like the Eothans. Well they are but not in the ways that make them bad. They’re not god climbers. Few trees on Arth.’

I’m going to have to ask him about Arth sometime.

The Snow Clan riders came together in a flying wedge with Thorn in the lead. Girl pulled up alongside Vale in the rear.

‘Go right at them,’ said Vale. ‘Before they know we’re here.’

‘They’ll know it,’ said Varuq'hat. ‘But I don’t disagree with the strategy. As long as we’re not at the pointy-end of their bravery.’

‘You chicken?’ said Peter.

‘No. From Aeth.’

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But Peter didn’t hear because the first riders had met the blackbirders and a great trumpeting cry came from the mounts.

‘Crazy crazy crazy,’ said Varuq'hat. ‘I like these Clan humans.’ And the imp hooted as Girl rushed in on the fighting.

Peter had no lance and so Girl did all the work, but Peter had time to see what had happened.

‘No River Clan. Just the skyship. That’s a good thing, I think. Otherwise the blackbirders would be attacking them too.

Peter saw something else at the same time as Varuq'hat.

‘The ravening beasts. They’re fighting the blackbirders too.’

‘Why is that?’

‘I don’t know. Something has changed, confused the imprinting.’

Girl rushed through the trees at a group of blackbirders from behind and swept two away, and bit another one. Instantly a thraqanonkra fell on a wounded blackbirder and tore them apart.

‘Girl,’ Peter shouted out. ‘Leave the beasts. Fight the blackbirder aliens.’

He did not how Girl understood him, but her focus now centred on a group of remaining blackbirders running in retreat. Shouts from the Clan had changed to enthusiasm as they routed the remaining blackbirders.

Dusty’s mount jumped from behind a group of trees but pulled up short at the sight of Girl. Red dripped from the old mount’s muzzle and Girl swung her head low and purred to ease the tension of the surprise encounter. Then the two butted head together and sidled away.

‘Damn its good to have the upper hand on these monsters for a change,’ said Dusty. ‘Though I have no idea why we have such success.’

The riders formed a line and advanced on a pack of thraqanonkra who gyred about in a knot of thirty or more snapping and calling to each other in bone chilling screeches. They ignored the Clan riders.

The Snows stared at the black spiraling mass of creatures. None stood still enough to single out for attack. None broke formation to make it easy to spear or run through with a lance. But the weight of them would be too many for a mount to take on. The snow and mud churned to a red brown muck.

‘There’s something, or someone in the middle of all that,’ said Vale. ‘Ask the imp. Has he seen the like?’

Varuq'hat twittered confusion. Peter took that as a no.

‘What’s happening to them?’

‘I don’t know. But it is important. Something has broken their imprint. I believe they turned on their master. It’s possible the pheromones I used before catalyzed this at first. But it has progressed in a way I would never have imagined. This is something new to me.’

Peter stared at the imp in surprise.

‘That’s almost a speech Varuq'hat. What’s got into you?’

‘It is rare I am taken by surprise. But the Snow Clan are right. Surprise serves us well in our fight with the Arthan blackbirders. And this is a good surprise indeed.’

Without warning the thraqanonkra pack broke away and like a stream they flowed across the undulating ground, between the black trunked trees, and away. Some of the mounts turned to follow but Thorn called them back.

‘Let the evil beasts go,’ said Thorn. ‘They hate the invading aliens as we do.’

‘They do not love us well,’ said another Rider. ‘We will regret not chasing them down.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Thorn. ‘But we have found the skyship.’

‘We need to learn more of this.’ Dusty’s mount rear up on two legs as if they were in moot. ‘why they are not with the River Clan as they are meant to be.’

Other mounts reared up as the riders came to quick agreement.

‘Now. How do we get to the skyship. It is but a shadow above the trees. I wish to see my daughter. I hear Grey made her captain.’

The riders laughed, part in relief after the easy battle, but also at the banter in Thorn’s voice.

All eyes turned to Peter.

‘Hey. Don’t look at me. Look for the ropes that tie the skyship to the ground.’

‘And we must find out what occurred here. How is it that these Arthans one moment attacked the skyship, and then next had to fight off those who should be closest to them.’

‘The thraqanonkra?’

‘The same. But first aid the Clan.’ Varuq'hat slipped to the ground and disappeared even as Peter helped look for a way to get to the skyship.

I am not going to climb a tree. No way. I’m just not.

‘No way. No Way.’

‘Rock, Pet-ah,’ Thorn said. ‘You know the skyship. You are the best person to climb to it.’

‘Someone else can clim the tree, then let down a rope.’

‘You are young, strong, fit.’ Thorn crossed his arms. A no nonsense stare began to worry Peter. ‘I have seen your strength, your bravery. You are best to do this.’

Dusty sidled up to Peter and drew him aside. ‘I know your destiny. It is to do this. You know it is too.’

‘This part was not in my dream.’

‘In your heart you know this.’ Dusty slapped him on the shoulder. ‘You want me to climb with you? I will too, if only to shame you into succeeding.’

‘Yeah. You would wouldn’t you.’ Peter sighed. ‘Where’s the imp? I bet he could climb better than me.’

The skyship loomed a dark shadow above the trees. He could see no movement, but they only saw the underside.

I should have shown them how to open the bomb bay doors.

‘Half the problem is going to be getting up to the ship from the tree tops.’

‘We have seen ropes tangled in the branches,’ said Thorn. ‘You can climb those.’

Peter shook his head. ‘There’s no way to know if those ropes are tied securely.’

‘There is,’ said Vale. ‘Climb the tree. Get on with it. The more you delay the more you will think of reasons not to do it.’

‘I don’t need more reasons,’ said Peter. ‘I love my life. That’s reason enough.’

He sighed and walked along the trees looked for one that might be easier to climb. The trunks had a covering of pitch black fungus over it. Powdery to the touch, but beneath it grew thicker and stronger until it reached the wood. Small white hairs extended from the fungus with a drop of clear liquid on it.

‘I’ve seen this before. In the mountains to the north of here. But also home on Earth. These must be beech trees.’ He collected some of the liquid and tasted the familiar sweetness.

‘Enough delay,’ said Thorn. ‘You can gather dew when you have brought the skyship down.’

Peter nodded. He chose a tall tree with a thick trunk that had a vine wrapped around the base. About the thickness of his arm the vine wound up and gave him the step he needed to get into the branches. He worked his way with care, always looking up at the skyship imagining the surprise of the captain.

‘Hope has turned out to be a good name,’ Peter said as he reached a large branch. Thick epiphytes filled the space between branch and trunk and he worked his way around them. They would not be strongly connected to the tree.

Besides. This vine is almost a tree.’

More of the vines came together around the host tree and if anything the higher he climbed up the vines the easier it got. And then he reached the canopy. Through a gap in the branches most of the forest lay below him like a carpet that he could imagine walking across. He had chosen his tree well. As one of the tallest the skyship had caught amongst its topmost branches, along with several neighboring trees.

‘But where’s this rope that Thorn promised?’

He clambered higher. But still no rope. So he shouted.

‘Ahoy there.’ He instantly felt stupid. ‘It’s not talk like a pirate day.’

So he just shouted out the names of random Rivers. ‘Sarah, Grey, Turq, anyone there? In case you’ve not noticed we ran the blackbirders off. Though I guess since it’s almost impossible to get up there you were pretty safe. Hey there. Ship of Hope. Anyone…’

Then a head craned out from a port, and another person swung out on a rope.

‘Who’s that?’

Peter recognized the voice.

‘Sarah!. It’s Peter.’

‘Can’t be. You’re talking Clan.’

‘For goodness sake Sarah. It’s me. Peter.’

‘What are you doing down there?’

‘I’m trying to rescue you, but really I could do with some help. Can you send down a rope? Or maybe a ladder.’

In answer a plank tied to a rope dropped down. It took several throws but he got hold of it and taking a deep breath swung off from the his grip on the tree.

His hands had got sticky from the sugar dew and he licked the sweet stuff from his fingers. He thought of the chocolate candy bar in his pocket.

This might be just the time to eat it.

He scrambled up the side and swung onto deck, but his heroic arrival got spoiled when he sprawled flat on his chest.

‘So,’ said Grey. ‘Another to go down in this sinking ship.’

‘What do you mean? Sinking?’ said Peter.

‘The flight engine thing. It’s failing. We’re dropping deeper into the trees.’

‘The zharaqsa?’ Peter gaped at her. ‘This is not good. The flight catalyst. It’s not fully lit. This is really really not good. We could fall at any moment.’