“Is there another bunch of flowering algae?”

  Bladewater looked at where Jonathan pointed. The crew had already found evidence that the wreckage was from Serenia, and now they continued charting the hatching site.

  “Yes, they are quiete…wait.” She took the binoculars and observed the growth. “There is another cocoon ready to hatch. I’ll report the captain.”

  “Are we in danger? Is it about to explode?”

  “Look at the algae. They are in full bloom, and at this time of the year, it is a sure sign of a coming explosion. We must keep our distance.” Bladewater pushed the binoculars to Jonathan and disappeared to the flight deck, where Jonathan was strictly forbidden to enter.

  Soon, Odysseia gained altitude and flew away from the hatching site. DeLangre took his navigator’s warnings seriously and ordered the charting to continue from the safe height of one kilometer. The mapping and measurements proceeded until late afternoon, when steam was noticed rising from the site.

  DeLangre canceled the measurements and ordered all the equipment to be targeted toward the potential hatching. More steam escaped, and rafts of algae loosened from the cocoon under the sea. They floated away, carried by the underwater currents churning the waters around the cocoon.

  Steam and gas blew out like from a geyser; the cocoon splurted them out in irregular gusts that drew the crew to the windows.

  “I’ve seen better fountains,” Jonathan said when the water quieted. He glanced at Bladewater, whose eyes didn’t flinch from the sea.

  The Navigator lifted a finger in a gesture of attention or commanding silence, and the cocoon exploded.

  A massive pillar of water and steam rose to the sky, shedding pieces that looked small from a distance. The pressure and sound from the explosion rumbled over Odysseia, shaking and turning the airship’s hull. Jonathan stared at the sky, his ears ringing. The explosion cloud was climbing over Odysseia’s altitude and hit a jet flow speeding towards the west. The cloud shed debris as it spread, and Jonathan was thankful for the distance that prevented him from smelling or seeing the remains of a well-cooked, giant larvae.

  A little later, the Bladewater was arguing with DeLangre about following the flow. “The jet flow may have blown Serenia’s remains towards the west. That would explain why there is so little debris.”

  “No one would survive that,” the captain said.

  “What if there is a cemetery for the behemoths?” Bladewater asked, invoking an old seafarer’s tale.

  “It’s but a story.”

  “Maybe, but considering the flow patterns…I wouldn’t be surprised to find a place where the remains rain down. It might be worth investigating for the potential reefs.”

  Jonathan listened, hiding his smile; Bladewater knew her captain’s weak points. DeLangre didn’t believe in finding survivors, but he possessed scientific curiosity towards the phenomena of the sky to rival Bladewater’s. He couldn’t resist the temptation to learn something new.

  Eventually, Odysseia followed the path marked in the sky by the explosion. The airship flew in the atmosphere’s safe, lower layers where the temperature was not too cold. The few hours spent in higher altitudes had already lowered the inside temperature to an uncomfortable level.

  ***

  One day was left of the light time, and Odysseia was hovering over a broken island chain close to the perpetual dusk at the edge of Watergate’s hemispheres. To travel further west would mean to see Abyss rising from the horizon in its blood red glory.

  The area below was a treacherous maze of isles, rocks, and ruins of dead technology. The remains of ancient buildings reached the sky like broken fingers, eroded by the erratic winds. Bladewater had gotten only a little sleep while searching for a calm layer of air for the airship.

  The dark circles under the eyes told of Bladewater's lack of sleep when Jonathan arrived at the common room. He loaded his platter with breakfast and sat to eat beside the woman. Voices from the flight deck revealed DeLangre was giving out commands.

  Jonathan scanned the view outside. Fallen and broken buildings covered the natural rocks: thick cables lay dead among shattered walls, a glass-like glimmering spread along random areas, as if they were dipped in molten crystal. In many places, waves were rushing among still-standing towers. Some of them, the huge cylinders, seemed to rotate, but it must have been an illusion created by the interplay of water and shadows. The low murmur trembled in the air, the echoes of wind playing an eternal symphony for a dead world.

  “Serenia’s remains were recognized on the beach,” Bladewater said. “A blanket is hanging from a stone like a flag, like someone is trying to signal their survival.”

  “Will the Captain send someone to check it?”

  “I told him I would go there, and he forbade me.”

  “And I still do. Thomms, it is too dangerous,” Samuel DeLangre said, stepping into the room like Jonathan did not exist. “We don’t know what is down there. It could be sea monsters and ash demons.”

  Bladewater turned her discolored eyes to her Captain, looking at DeLangre steadily. “I have been down there before. There are no demons; the place was empty then.”

  “What do you mean?” DeLangre asked, narrowing his eyes.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “Ninety-eight days before we met for the first time, Samuel. I turned my sails to Abyss and traveled to Haven by the sea. I stopped here on my way.”

  “But it is a cursed place. Even if the ash demons are a myth, the wind and waves will crush the boats.”

  “There is nothing cursed in there. Only some remains of the past. Remains, from which we could learn. But you are correct, Captain. We can’t risk taking Odysseia down there. I’ll take the boat.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Jonathan said automatically. His curiosity was almost as pressing as his urge to keep Bladewater safe.

  ***

  DeLangre was unwilling to let Bladewater go, but the Navigator stood her ground. In the end, four men were assigned to Bladewater. They were lowered to the sea on a boat belonging to the airship’s equipment. The men were volunteers, and none of them originated from Khem, the nation known for the widely spread worship of the Olds and their ways. The boat was freed from its cables, and they rowed to the island following Bladewater’s orders.

  The shoreline had a ramp, a broken plate of partly molten material from the past. They latched the boat to a stone and investigated the material that sea and wind, or maybe human hands, had gathered on the shoreline. There was a hat, a wet pillow, and pieces of furniture. Some of the items were spread on the rocks to dry.

  “Is this the place you told me about?” Jonathan asked.

  “I’ve told you about many places.”

  “But there is nothing in the sky,” the man said, scanning the horizon. He was too excited to twist the words for Bladewater.

  “The cable is not visible from here. It reflects the light most curiously. I didn’t want Odysseia to fly over this place.” Bladewater glanced towards the airship, ensuring it was where it was supposed to be. It was waiting for them over a kilometer from the shoreline, at a height of two hundred meters. “That hill-like structure on top of us, the machinery is in there.” Bladewater led them uphill. The Navigator walked with bare hands, but the crew was armed. All the men except one were scanning their surroundings for danger. One of them seemed to be stricken by a sense of wonder.

  They circulated the structure and found a fire someone had built, but it failed to ignite. On top of the fireplace, a white curtain was hanging from a ruined wall, hopelessly stuck to rusted metal wires sprouting from the structure.

  “The doorway is here,” Bladewater guided and pointed towards a road, almost covered in dirt. A corroded set of rails was still visible on its surface. Jonathan imagined the road surrounded by walls, maybe built in a tunnel when it was in use. The end of the world had broken and changed everything, baring the hidden places to the open air.

  “What caused all this destruction?” Jonathan muttered.

  “According to the histories, the lift system had three cables. Only one remains. Maybe something fell and crushed this place,” the Navigator answered quietly.

  Jonathan nodded. It was difficult to imagine an orbital city or a spaceship or even a behemoth falling from the skies, even when he stood in the middle of the evidence.

  They followed the rails to an opening that resembled more a broken rock than anything human hands had crafted. Jonathan went in first, faking a relaxed gait; he didn’t want Bladewater to step into the darkness where the monsters from the past might lurk. If there were monsters to fight, he was the most qualified to do it. Jonathan’s conscience reminded him that he had set one ancient monster free and run from it. Jenet of cursed Ardara, wherever it had been.

  The room was huge. Its floor was covered in wreckage, but most of the rubbish was piled along the walls in a futile attempt at cleaning. There were sand and stones, but also tangled wires, rusted pipes, and pieces of broken machines. Sickly plants were clinging to life among the wreckage, their roots sucking the meager sustenance from the thin soil.

  Someone had built a rickety shelter on one wall. Jonathan hardly noticed it at first, for the room was dominated by an illuminated circle on the floor. It was like bright sunlight flowing from no obvious source. Jonathan approached the light cautiously and was on the circle’s perimeter when the source appeared. A transparent cable was hanging from the sky, and the circle of light spread from where it connected to a pedestal.

  “Please, be quiet. He is asleep,” a voice said from the middle of the light. “Please, don’t wake him up or he goes on a rampage again.” Someone was leaning on the pedestal. It was a young man, on the verge of adulthood, his clothing shredded and his head bandaged with a dirty rag.

  “Did you survive Serenia’s wreck? We are here to save you.” Bladewater said. The youngster blinked his eyes, understanding the visitors were real.

  “Yes. There was an explosion. I woke up here, and Miss Jakob thought I was dead.”

  Bladewater walked to the young man and touched his arm. “Hush, don’t worry. I am Bladewater Thomms, the navigator to the airship Odysseia. Is Miss Jakob asleep?”

  “No, Navigator, Miss Jakob is gone. She was crushed as the light fell on her.” The youngster held Bladewater’s hand like he was drowning, and his words dried in his mouth. Bladewater gave him some time to gather himself.

  Jonathan checked the perimeter. Someone was snoring in the hut. He was a man with long black hair, wearing the whitest shirt Jonathan had ever seen, black trousers, and shoes so thin they were like socks. Jonathan pointed him to Bladewater, who shook her head, forbidding Jonathan to wake him.

  “What's your name?” Bladewater asked the youngster.

  “Jiir Gattesund, Navigator.”

  “And what position did you hold in Serenia?”

  “Junior engineman, Navigator.”

  “Very good, Jiir, who is the man over there?”

  “183-Anteron.”

  Bladewater raised her eyebrows. “A peculiar name. Was he a passenger?”

  “It reads in his shirt, Navigator.” Jiir pointed to the left side of his shirt, showing the place for a label. “No Navigator, he was not on Serenia.”

  “Where did he come from?”

  “Along the light, Navigator. In the box that crushed Miss Jacob.”

  “Tell me everything, Jiir,” Bladewater said.

  “Miss Jakob and I were the only survivors after the explosion. We made a shelter in here. I was on the beach when I saw a flash of light and heard a crash. That box,” Jiir pointed at a deformed shape among the rubbish, “Had fallen among the light. Miss Jacob is under it. I couldn’t move it. You can see her legs if you…” Jiir’s voice wavered.

  “And that man appeared from the box?”

  “Affirmative, Navigator. There was a voice like the wind on the reeds and like people muttering, and it opened, and he was there.”

  Kvenrei noticed that the rubbish had more than one such box, all in different states of disrepair.

  “Thank you, Jiir, you have been helpful.” Bladewater smiled and waved one of his men to take care of the youngster. The Navigator started to approach the hut, but Jonathan stopped her.

  “Let me do it. He may be dangerous.” The sleeping man was an otherworldly creature. His skin was faultless, his hair thick and glossy, and his body looked almost too slender to be true. Jonathan circled to where the man’s legs lay and kicked them, grinning. “Wake up time! The rescue party is here!”