A break in the clouds
Most airships soared. That’s what they were meant to do, cutting through the waves of the Cloud Sea, mist engine lifting them proud, sail and prop powering forward. But Paradise didn’t soar. Not tonight.
Tonight she skulked, masts down, props on half, the thick surface mist slipping across her deck. Tonight she was on dark business and even the red glow of the setting sun on the lapping air couldn’t call the eyes of her crew away from the edifice ahead.
The Overhang had always been a prison. Ever since the city above had existed, since its founding stone and founding crimes, those unlucky enough to do something bad and be caught were taken here to stand on air.
The cages hung on huge chains. Each one big enough to hold thirty souls, a criss-cross of bars for the floor and solid rows and columns for each of the other sides. There were holes, bars rusted away, bent as the cages clanged together in storms, but it didn’t matter. In fact, that was the worst part. In the Overhang, escape was always an option. All you had to do was fall.
‘How do we know which cage?’ Manganese Crabbit scanned the ponderously swaying prison from his place by the wheel. From this distance, in this light, the hunched forms of the prisoners stood out only as black blots, their dangling limbs trailing in the sunset.
‘We look for the shadow still standing.’ Rath eased Paradise’s wheel to starboard, bringing the ship in line with the prison perimeter. Command had fallen to her, not by rank but by experience. The branding on her neck told the story. She’d hung before.
Barn sat with his back against the starboard rail, mist flowing over his legs. The orc unfastened the sight from his thousand-yard musket and held it to his eye. ‘Maybe she’s already jumped,’ he said, trying to find their errant captain in his crosshairs. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t have come. Maybe this,’ he said, moving his gaze to the next creaking cage, ‘was a bad idea.’
‘I’ll remember that optimistic outlook when you get captured, Barn,’ said Mang, not bothering to look back at his shipmate. ‘And I’ll be sure to tell the captain when we find her.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Barn. ‘Bet she agrees with me.’
‘First time for everything,’ replied Mang.
‘And last,’ said Barn. ‘Which do you think this is?’
‘Quiet.’ Rath turned the ship again, following the edge of the Overhang.
‘Why?’ said Barn. ‘Ain’t no guards. Ain’t anybody watching. That’s the thing about inescapable prisons. Makes people lazy.’
‘They
are watching,’ said Rath, nodding upwards. Each cage was held on four chains that came together into one. That one led into an opening in the underside of the cliff. Each cage could be raised and lowered on a mechanism hidden above. ‘They watch from above. Anyone gets too close: ffffftt. They let off the brakes.’
Barn and Mang thought about that for a moment. Then they stopped.
‘That’s why we stay at the edge, for now, until we’re sure.’
‘Give me Traitor’s Mile any day,’ said Barn eventually. ‘At least you can see the bottom.’
The wind picked up. A gust catching the tops of the red nimbus waves. The nearest cage groaned as it swung on a pendulum path. It clanged into its neighbour and on the return swing a silhouette bundle rolled through a gap in the bars.
It fell free for a second.
Then the mist swallowed it whole. Not even a ripple.
‘It pays to hold on when you sleep,’ said Rath.
‘Could’ve been dead,’ said Mang.
‘Guess he’ll never know,’ said Barn, gaze frozen on the cage’s creaking swing. The dark figures within, arms wrapped tight round their own prison bars. And in the corner, a familiar shadow. Rath was right: the only one standing. ‘Found her,’ he said, and his mouth went dry.
Rath and Mang didn’t shout or celebrate. Their faces hardened. Their gazes narrowed and hands itched.
‘Is this going to work?’ asked Mang, picking out the unmistakable form of the captain, braced in the corner of the cage.
‘Probably not,’ said Rath.
‘Did I tell you about the dream I had last night?’ Barn asked, as Rath turned the ship towards their hanging captain’s cell.
‘Yes,’ said Rath, her hand reaching for the ballast control lever. ‘But I would have preferred that you hadn’t.’
Barn got to his feet and reattached the sight to his weapon. ‘Me too,’ he said, as the mist rose around him.
When it neared his neck, he stole another look at their captive captain. ‘Do you think she’ll be pleased to see us?’
*
The lamps came on and Captain Tattersail ran. She knew they’d come. Even though she’d expressly told them not too. Even thought it was stupid to put the whole crew at risk, and the ship, just to save her sorry ass. Stupid, that’s what it was.
Gods below she loved stupid people.
She reached the hole in the cage and swung herself onto the outside. The change in weight sent the dangling prison cell swaying. The wind caught the side and the cage began to twist on its chain. Below her, deep in the mist, four dim white blooms of light made a square and, she hoped, a target.
A shout from above made her look up.
Another from below made her look down.
The white blooms rose through the mist. Coming up fast like a breaching sky-whale. Tattersail looked back at the four other unfortunate souls who shared her cage. ‘If any of you fine folk have ever considered finding God,’ she called out, ‘now is a good time for a leap of faith.’ Then she let go of the cage and leapt into the air.
The impact was harder than she anticipated. Much harder. Her body coming down hit the ship coming up and even with the sail stretched out to catch her the air was punched from her lungs. She rolled to the side and fell again, but this time landed on hard deck.
‘We got her!’ Mang’s voice cut through the thumping in her ears and chest.
She looked up. Another ragged bundle hit the sail sheet, then another.
‘We good?’ shouted Rath from the wheel.
‘Ye-’
‘No!’ Tattersail staggered to her feet and grabbed the edge of the sail sheet, holding it ready. ‘There’s one more up there.’
‘Are they coming?’ Mang shouted.
Tattersail looked at her fellow escapees. They exchanged glances. One nodded, one shook.
A huge heavy clunk from above. The shadow of the cage swung across the deck. The prisoners re-evaluated: both shook.
Tattersail cupped her hands and yelled. ‘We’re waiting!’
As the words raced up, a sound raced down. The sound of a running of a chain, faster and faster.
The cage began to fall, down, down, the shadow descending on the deck like a net.
‘No, we’re not,’ said Rath.
Paradise lurched to the right, throwing Tattersail, Mang and the other prisoners across the deck. Rath slammed the engines into flank and spun the wheel. The ship roared into a steep bank, cargo and crew sliding across the deck. Above, the sound of the running, rattling chain stopped.
What followed wasn’t a sound as much as a feeling. Like the moment before a wave breaks, the held breath before a dive. Then a flash of black as the massive metal cage ripped a hole in the mist above and tore through the air Paradise had just vacated.
Rath seized the wheel tight as with a terrible smash the loose end of the chain whipped across the stern rail before being violently yanked over the side and into the abyss below.
They heard it fall for a long time. Not one simple crash but a rolling thunder of shattering bangs and sickening thuds, each one slightly more muffled, slightly further down.
Tattersail got to her feet for the second time. She stalked on shaking legs to the wheel. The railing behind Rath was gone. Torn away by the massive chain. A foot closer and…
‘Rath, whose idea was this rescue?’
‘We took a vote, Captain.’
‘So you all agreed to risk your lives and my ship?’
‘Not all,’ said Rath. ‘Two against one.’
‘I wanted to leave you,’ shouted Barn. He was half over the starboard rail, hand reaching down. He heaved the third prisoner onto the deck and left him to cradle a badly separated shoulder. ‘As per orders of course.’
‘And I wanted to do a swap,’ Mang came to join the others by the wheel, throwing an ‘F-U’ smile at Barn. ‘Him for you.’
The Overhang melted into the gloom. Tattersail looked at the wreck of her ship and the resolve of her crew. It was good to be home.
She walked back to where her former cellmates crouched in a huddle. Reaching out to the nearest one she smiled and said, ‘Welcome to Paradise.’
