Something began to nip at her hand. A tiny bundle of black and gray feathers growled at her, and she gently nudged it away. “Easy there, Zephyr,” she said when the kit got a little too close to knocking the sleeping cream-colored hatching out of Athera’s lap.

The little kit just growled again and scampered off.

“You’re going to keep those names then?” Tarquin asked from across the room. He was holding the tawny kit that looked most like his parents.

“I think they suit them,” Athera said. From her lap the cream colored kit, Myrsky, stretched and nuzzled her head into Athera’s hand. Their feathers were starting to come in, leaving tiny pinpricks in the fluffy down. “Besides, I doubt I could convince the pirates to call them anything different.”

Tarquin nodded thoughtfully and reached up to pat Cedar. The griffin churred softly and grabbed a bit of jerky was the troth they had set out for them. Cedar had been doing excellent ever since they had found Tallis. Gone was the rambunctious griffin that lived on in his son and in his place was a regal majestic creature that only sometimes knocked Athera over.

Zephyr nipped at Tallis’s tail and earned a swipe. She was a little rougher with the babies, but that was to be expected as they were nearly old enough to be weaned.

“We should probably start them on meat soon,” she said aloud.

“You could probably get some from the party,” Tarquin said distractedly. Zephyr had seized his boot and was busy seemingly trying to pull it off of his foot.

Athera paused, the constant hum of laughter that had filled the hall had died down, that or she had simply adjusted completely to it. “Sounds like it’s winding down.”

“Do you think they’re all going to spend the night here?” Tarquin asked. They had briefly returned to the shack they had been renting to grab their things and Tarquin’s bird, but had been staying on the ship ever since. It already seemed cramped with everyone gathered in one bunk room, what would it be like with another twenty people?

“I hope not,” Athera grimaced. “They have places they’re staying in in the city.”

“So did we,” Tarquin muttered. In his arms, the kit chirped softly and Tarquin set him down. He scampered immediately for Tallis, headbutting the larger griffin. The kits were probably hungry, it would be best to leave them in peace while they ate.

“Come on,” Athera sighed. “We should head back.”

“For what?” Tarquin snorted. “It’s not like any of the pirates will miss us.” Still he stood.

The sound of the party had died down to a light hum when they exited. Athera spotted a couple of pirates sleeping in the bunk room. It appeared at least a couple were planning on staying after all. Inside the navigation room, a couple of pirates sat around and chatted. One was asleep in the corner with his traveling cloak drawn over him like a blanket.

“I haven’t seen the two of you in a while,” a soft voice said. Elijah had settled himself behind the desk and was looking at Athera and Tarquin expectantly. “Did your stomachs finally call you here?”

“Oh, no, we don’t need--” Tarquin started, but Elijah had already poured each of them a cup.

“Nonsense, everyone is going to bed fat and happy tonight.” He paused and glanced somewhere just behind him. “Have you seen your brother? I haven’t seen him for quite some time. Geralt and Sylvie too.”

Athera grimaced. She had hoped that Nestor would have joined the party after she left. “I spoke to him outside earlier. He may still be out there. I don’t know about the other two.”

“No,” Elijah shook his head. “He was here a couple of hours ago, but he hasn’t been back since. Come to think of it, that was about the time I lost track of Sylvie and Geralt as well.”

Athera had to repress a laugh. “They probably just wandered off together, it was pretty busy here after all.”

Elijah nodded. “Yes, I suppose it was. Geralt has never been a fan of the parties, but it’s getting late. I don’t suppose I could convince the two of you to go find them? After you’ve finished your food of course.”

“We’ll go check, I bet they’re just outside the ship,” Athera siad. She nodded to Tarquin who shrugged.

Athera clamored out of the ship easily. The temperature had dropped since the last time she had been out--something to be expected with the setting sun. Across the clearing, Leather perked up. The hippogriff’s mouth was half full of grass and he went back immediately to tearing it up.

“I wish we could get him inside,” Athera lamented. “It won’t be long before there’s snow.”

“The day you convince that creature to do anything he doesn’t want to do is the day I switch professions to a musician,” Tarquin said.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

“It’s still getting cold,” Athera said. She slid off the side of the ship and to the spot Nestor had been the first time she had gone out. Nothing except the faint indentation in the grass that told her where they had been.

“Catherine had a stable for him, but I’ve only ever seen him in the pasture,” Tarquin said as he jumped down beside Athera. “I don’t think he likes roofs.”

Leather snorted.

Athera just shook her head and glanced around them. “I really thought they’d be out here,” she said at last.

Tarquin laughed. “Like you said, it’s cold. They’re probably just on the ship somewhere.”

“Wouldn’t someone else have seen them if they were? It’s not like there are a ton of places on it to hide.”

Tarquin hesitated. “Well, no, but Nestor and Geralt practically were raised on that thing. I’m sure they know it better than we do.”

Something glinted in the grass and Athera bent down to inspect it. A solitary bronze gear. Not one big enough that a ship would use, but smaller, meant for projects that could fit in one's hand. The kind that she had seen Sylvie work with. “No, they’ve definitely been out here.” She held the gear up to Tarquin who took it from her.

He glanced at the pathway that had become worn between the trees from so many pirates traveling and from Skystead. “They wouldn’t be that stupid, surely,” he said slowly.

A tight ball of unease had formed in Athera’s stomach. For a split second she found herself scanning the ground for exact footsteps, but the layer of trampled grass made that impossible, besides, she didn’t know what the underside of any of their boots looked like. She groaned. “Do we tell Elijah?”

Tarquin paused, then nodded. “They might just be off for a walk,” he tried, but it was half hearted.

Elijah’s expression was nearly unreadable when they told him in hushed tones that Nestor, Geralt, and SYlvie were nowhere to be found.

“Escaped again,” one man Athera didn’t recognize grinned. Hadn’t he been sleeping in the corner earlier? “I’ll go get them.”

“No, Samuel, you need to sleep off your drink,” Elijah said firmly. “You’re not going back to the city till dawn.”

Samuel glared at him and wandered over to a woman that was calling him over.

“Listen,” Elijah said in a low voice. “Normally I would send one of the crew to go get them, but well, look at them. Everyone here is staying for the night and the sharper ones have already gone back to Skystead.”

“You want us to go get them?” Tarquin asked with a little too much enthusiasm.

“If you wouldn’t mind. You’ll have to be more careful than you used to, but the city guard has been lazy with the crew. I doubt you’ll have any trouble so long as you avoid the alchemy guild…you should probably stick to public areas just in case.”

“We’ll do it,” Tarquin said.

“Good,” Elijah sighed. “When you find Geralt, tell him he’s asking for it.”

“Done.” Tarquin grinned and Athera elbowed him lightly.

The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon by the time Athera and Tarquin made it to Skystead’s gates. The usual line to enter the city was nearly nonexistent and only one agent at the gate was there to usher them into the city.

Athera frowned as the guard nodded at them after barely glancing over at their papers. “Where is everyone?” she murmured to Tarquin as they stepped into the city.

The blacksmith frowned. The ground level of the city had a couple of people wandering about, but nowhere near the amount they were accustomed to. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “It is later in the evening, people might just be in their homes.”

Athera nodded. Tarquin was right. There was a chill in the air that not even Skystead’s heating element could fully ward off, of course people were reluctant to stay outside.

No trace of Nestor was immediately evident as they began to climb up the stairs, but then, what had Athera expected? Nestor standing right at the gates ready to greet her?

“Let’s try the automaton shop,” Geralt suggested after they had been wandering for a while. Now that they weren’t on the ground levels, a few more people wandered the streets, mostly engaged with window whopping. Just above them Athera could spot more people on the skyways.

“Why would they go there?” she asked. “It’s been locked down, hasn’t it?”

Geralt shrugged. “It’s also where they were hiding before we ever found them.”

Athera relented. It was as good a starting place as any and they were close. However, when they got there, the windows were still boarded up just as before and she couldn’t see any lights inside the building. Everything was exactly the way they had seen it the last time they had been, down to the shattered automaton in the doorway.

“This is impossible,” Athera said softly. There weren’t many people out to hear them, but she worried without the sound of a crowd to cover them. “They could be anywhere.”

Tarquin, however, wasn’t looking at the shop. Instead, he had his gaze fixed on the corner of the shop. “Do you see that?”

Athera followed his gaze. The usual red brick was there, yes, but a faint, almost spider web like design ran through it. She frowned and reached out to it. The lighter section gave easily under her fingertips, quickly crumbling to dust. It had been transmuted, “What are the chances that we just missed this earlier?”

Tarquin set his stance and glanced around them. “On the front of a shop and not in an alleyway? Low, I think.”

Athera frowned and reached for a sample bottle in her pocket. She, of course, found nothing. She hadn’t been carrying them ever since their move to the ship.

“Come on,” Tarquin said. He took her by the shoulder and pulled her away. “We can’t do anything about it.”

He was right, but Athera still had a hard time tearing her gaze away. Every other bit of transmuted stone they had found had been at the lower levels of the city, and it had almost always been in back alleys. What was this doing on a mid level shop? And why was it there?

They skyways felt relatively normal as they made their way through them. Children darted around, engrossed in games of tag while adults chatted quietly nearby. They were just walking past one group of women enjoying their afternoon tea when an excited cheer arose from somewhere above them.

“My,” one of the women sighed as they walked past. “I wish they would keep it down.”

“It’s been an hour,” her friend agreed. “I don’t know what can be so exciting about some little alchemy demonstration.”

Athera glanced at Tarquin and they both hurried for the stairs. A demonstration could only mean one thing.

Alaric was ready to go public.