They didn’t leave within the hour. Though Tsia had said she was ready, when the time came to say goodbye to Rā’imu, it was hard to drag her away. Though they had not known each other that long, for both it was a connection they had longed for all their life - a family member who didn’t reject them and tie to a mother whose shadow loomed large but whose presence was often wanting. Both knew also, that there was a real chance it was the last time they’d see each other. Few traveled in and out of the Harei Millet and, even if by Selene’s grace they met again, it would likely be many years down the road. Thus, despite the clock’s incessant ticking, Jasper couldn’t bring himself to cut their farewell short and waited patiently until the last, tearful goodbye had been said.

It was already mid-day when they finally sallied out of Dūr-Yarha’s gates. The snow that had already impeded their progress when they journeyed north had only continued to pile up. It was the peak of winter for the northern city, and the caravans of merchants from Qarānu and Kibrāti that usually filled the roads were nowhere to be seen. Even the king’s highway had little more than a narrow, trampled-down path running down its middle.

Thus, their progress was slow - and slowed down even further by Tsia and Ihra who, unlike Jasper, had no immunity to the freezing temperatures. After some debate, therefore, the group decided to turn south toward Qarānu in the hopes of catching a boat rather than continuing straight along the highway that led to Nūr-S̆ams̆a.

It took a solid week before they broke free of the snow, the elevation having descended low enough that the warm winds off the southern plains drove back the elements. From there, their progress picked up and the three found themselves back in Qarānu by the end of the second week.

Despite not having Annatta there to bargain for them, chartering a boat proved to be easier than expected. A merchant fleet was already in dock and as soon as Jasper showed them his orders from S̆arrābī, the merchants were more than willing to take them. They set sail the next day, bound for Kibrāti first, and then Nūr-S̆ams̆a. Jasper only hoped they’d make it on time.

Unfortunately, their plans hit a snag when they reached Kibrāti. The merchants were there to pick up a shipment of furs from Kār-Kuppû, but the northern traders had been delayed, and as much as the merchants wished to oblige, they were not willing to depart empty-handed.

“So what are we going to do,” Jasper asked as he paced up and down in their small cabin. The door was bolted firmly shut as the air outside was a bitter cold, a northern wind that swept down from the upper cliffs on which Kibrāti perched. “From what the merchants said, the roads are still mostly covered by snow. If we abandon the ship, there’s no guarantee we’ll make it to Nūr-S̆ams̆a any faster than just waiting it out. But, we don’t even know how long we’ll be waiting. God only knows when those traders will show up.”

“We should just go,” Ihra said with a shrug. “At least then our pace will be in our hands. If we stay the fleet, like you said, who knows when the traders from Kār-Kuppû will show up? They’re not on a timetable like us.”

“There might be another option.” Jasper turned to Tsia in surprise. Though she’d roused herself from her lethargy at the tavern, she’d barely spoken on their trip.

“Another option? Don’t tell me you have jets?” He joked.

“I don’t know what jets are,” she replied wearily, “but there are tsussîm.”

Huh, maybe they do have jets, after a fashion. “You mean the flying horses? That might work.” He paused as a wrinkle presented itself, “But what about our mounts? I'm not willing to leave Dapplegrim behind.”

“Nor I Keresh,” Ihra butted in.

“They have an artifact that could carry them. It’s not cheap though.”

Ihra’s eyes narrowed at the thought of parting with their precious gold. “If the princess thinks it’s expensive, it must really be out of our price range.”

“It is expensive,” Tsia admitted. “I think it was almost 8,000 gold coins. But when Nē-“ her voice cracked slightly. “When we,” she restarted, avoiding saying Nēs̆u’s name, “flew the tsussîm, we didn’t have to pay anything. Just had to do a little favor for the company.”

“Oh, yeah,” the story came flooding back to Jasper. “Didn’t that little favor almost cost your life?”

“I was overconfident and went alone. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Perhaps we should check it out,” Ihra spoke up. “It doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Why not,” Jasper agreed with a shrug. “So where is this guy?”

----------------------------------------

Before they left the ship, Jasper paid the merchants a little extra to keep watch over their mounts. He doubted the merchants would be foolish enough to steal from a member of the royal house, but greed had led many a man down the road to destruction. It was better to be safe than sorry.

It didn’t take them long to make their way through the narrow streets of the lower city. It was only a small portion of land that jutted out into Lake Yarbah, a glorified sand bar that over the years had been expanded and reinforced by retaining walls that pushed the water ever further from the shore. But the vast bulk of Kiribāti was perched on the top of the towering bluffs that overlooked Yarhab.

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Great lifts bridged the space between the two sections. The lumbering wooden platforms were large enough to hold a loaded carriage or two, or a small crowd of people. They moved slowly, jerkily, up the cliff face, and were operated by brawn and gears rather than magic.

But as they waited in line, Jasper noticed there were other platforms as well. Crafted of finely polished stone, the lifts were far larger than the wooden ones. Their bodies melded seamlessly with the towering bluffs, showing no signs of gears or ropes, but they sat unused and neglected. “I wonder why they’re not using those ones,” Jasper whispered to Ihra. “They look a lot nicer.”

An old man waiting behind them had been listening to their conversation and butted in with a polite nod of his head. “Ah, my lord, when I was a lad those lifts ran as regular as clockwork. Back then, the city had an agreement with a S̆addu’â lord to hire stone mages to operate them. But now,” the man shrugged, “we have only two stone mages in the city, and Lord Nūrdapīn requires their services for his troops. We have to make do with these now, but they’re really not as bad as they look,” he added with a shrug.

Jasper eyed the wooden lifts dubiously, watching as they jerkily lifted two wagons piled high with grain up the side of the cliff. About halfway to the top, a gust of wind sent the platform smashing into the rock. The wooden rails splintered beneath the force of the blow and one of the carts rolled toward the ledge. The operators, no doubt possessed of far more than Earthly strength, managed to stop the cart from plunging over and, once it was repositioned, the lift ascended the rest of the way to the top, where it began to unload. Another, its burden already freed, began to make its way down, but Jasper saw that it, too, had a damaged rail. Yikes, talk about an OSHA nightmare. A second gust of wind battered the lift and its progress stopped as they waited it out. Screw this.

He tapped Ihra and Tsia on the shoulders. “So, which one of you wants to be Supergirl and which one wants to be Lois?”

“Huh?”

Jasper pointed at the lifts. “I’m tired of waiting on them and, frankly, they don’t seem that safe. I can cast Spectral Wings on myself and one of the two of you, so which one wants to fly and which one wants to get carried?”

“I can fly myself,” Tsia protested.

“But you’re terrible at it, aren’t you?”

Her jaw set. “Ihra can have your spell. I’ll fly on my own.”

Jasper’s hand brushed Ihra’s back, releasing the essence into her, and her back spasmed as a pair of ethereal black wings blossomed behind her. His hands twisted a second time, and a second pair of wings sprouted from him. Tsia began to rise jerkily in the air, the wind swirling around her with a good deal of power but little finesse, but shrieked as a pair of arms wrapped around her.

“Alright, Lois, let’s go.”

Leaving the line behind, Jasper shot into the air, tailed closely by Ihra. It took a few minutes of steady flying to reach the top, the journey made more difficult both by the opposing gusts of wind from both the north and south and the squirming burden he was carrying.

“I can fly myself,” Tsia protested.

“Didn’t you tell me you faceplanted into a cliff,” he asked.

“I don’t recall that at all,” she glibly denied.

“I guess that blow to the head was worse than you realized; you really should see a doctor,” he jibed back.

Tsia rolled her eyes but stopped struggling. As they landed on the top safely, he let her go. “Alright, so where’s this Nekelmû fellow?”

The girl scanned their surroundings with a frown. “You know, I’ve only been here once. I’m not seeing anything that looks familiar- ah!” She pointed excitedly to a two-story wooden building whose plain facade was decorated by a bright red and green sign advertising the services of a tailor. “I remember that place. They had a lovely dress in the window that…he talked me out of buying.”

“I’m sorry,” Jasper offered, patting her awkwardly on the back.

“There’s no need,” the girl said, as she brushed away a tear. “Now where was that in relation to the company.” She looked right and left. “I think we passed this building on the way to the stables, so we need to keep going in that direction.”

Trusting in her memory, Jasper and Ihra followed behind her, fighting their way through the wet and muddy streets. It soon became clear that they were headed in the right direction when Tsussîm flew low overhead, dipping and bobbing through the sky like a duck diving in a pond. The crowds thinned out as they reached the outer edges of the city and then the expansive meadows the Tsussîm inhabited, dotted with small pillars of rocks on which the beasts slept, loomed ahead. They only had to follow the fenced-in meadows for a short distance before their headquarters loomed into view, marked by a yellow sign with a horseshoe that swayed violently in the wind.

Two soldiers adorned in a garish pink and green garb guarded the entry, huddled against the building’s overhang for what little protection from the wind it offered. One, though, perked up as Tsia approached.

“Lady Tsia, have you returned for another ride?”

She blinked uncertainly. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”

The Djinn nodded vigorously. “I was one of the guards on your caravan. That trick you pulled with the lightning was really something. I told all the boys, didn’t I,” he said nudging the other guard, “that if we had a mage like you, we’d never have to worry about storms.”

“Oh, well,” Tsia’s cheeks blushed with the praise. “Thanks. I was hoping to see Nekelmû. My friend here needs to catch up with the army that’s supposed to be at Nūr-S̆ams̆a.”

The guard turned a curious eye on Jasper. “You’re one of the men being sent to help the empire?” Noticing Jasper’s red skin, he hastily tacked on, “my lord?”

“I’m supposed to be,” he replied. “Unfortunately, the messenger with my orders was delayed and now I’m struggling to catch up with the army. We were hoping we might be able to rent some Tsussîm.”

“We don’t normally head that way, my lord, but perhaps they’ll make an exception.” Unlatching the gate, the man shoved it open and stepped aside to let them pass. “Nekelmû should be in today. If anyone can help you, he can.”

Thanking them, the three pressed on and stopped at the steward’s office. The door was closed but judging from the loud voices echoing within, a rather heated discussion was in progress. Tsia, though, was unfazed and rapped on the door promptly.