"As I understand, my lady, you entered this expedition unofficially?" Axel asked, sitting down at the table. "Let’s say… just for the company?"

  "Something like that," Ashley nodded, watching him closely, surprised at the change in him. The man before her was calm and collected—no trace of obsequiousness, only the faintest hint of irony in his eyes. "Much like Saelin’s son, Hector. We’re merely guests in this merry company, and though we intend to help the expedition with all our strength, we have no more rights than guests. We make no decisions."

  "As do I," Axel nodded. "Well then… I won’t comment further, since any misgivings of mine may have no ground at all. Time will show what comes of this undertaking."

  Ashley held back, letting the pause stretch.

  "Tell me, where did you get that marvelous contraption?"

  "The aerostat?" Axel shrugged. "I invented it, my lady…"

  "Let’s drop the formality. We’ll be spending the next few months packed together in that flying box, in close quarters. So just call me Ashley. Now then—are you saying you yourself drew the plans, made the calculations, built the mechanism?"

  "Of course."

  His bluntness was disarming.

  "But…" Ashley faltered. "Axel, don’t you realize? Hundreds of minds at the Academy of Sciences and the Mages’ Guild have yet to come up with anything like it! And you… Did you study somewhere? Graduate from some university?"

  "Nothing of the sort… Ashley," Axel gave a bitter smile. "Unless you count gnawing the granite of learning for seven years at the monastery school in Vairad. My father, who studied his whole life and never rose above a notary in Arctarium, dreamed of giving me the education he never had himself. He tried long to set me on the proper path, and I’m grateful for it. After all, if not for him, I’d never have created this thing… But I was drawn elsewhere. About five years ago, we had a serious talk. I told him plainly I would no longer sit over manuscripts with him, and that I wanted to move to Aktida. He didn’t try to stop me—he even gave me money. We parted as friends and kept up a correspondence since. My mother stayed with him, they decided to let me try and build a life of my own. And I did—I built it, and I was content. Still am, as you see. Though I do need money now… I met a girl here, fell in love, and thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to marry. But for that, I need a better house and enough means to provide for a family…"

  "And the aerostat?" Ashley broke in again. "Why did you even need it?"

  "In your institutes and academies…" Axel grimaced. "They’ve invented nothing of the sort for the simple reason that… they don’t need it. Understand? There are enough carriages and coachmen, enough horse relays. Life runs at a set pace, and no one cares to speed it up from its turtle crawl. I tried presenting the project to the Mages’ Guild. They laughed in my face, called me a yokel, and advised me to keep leading folks through the pass and leave aeronautics to smarter people. I was furious. I turned instead to blacksmiths, carpenters, joiners—people I’d often ferried across the border. I sketched the project myself and designed the engine. Only one problem remained. Money. But a year ago, that problem was solved—by our mutual acquaintances."

  "Petros and Saelin?"

  "Of course. Only later did I learn they had very little money at the time, yet they seriously drew up a list of candidates for guide, as though they already had the funds secured. They came to the office where my manager takes orders, found me, and demanded a meeting. At first, it was all formal—they wanted a service record, documents, references. Then Saelin happened to notice a sheet with my sketches—the talk was happening right here. You know how he’s obsessed with inventions. He grilled me, I was glad of the interest and told him everything. And then both of them seemed to transform—they promised me a huge investment in the project, and an even greater sum for using the aerostat on the expedition. I had little to lose, so I agreed. By mid-March, the money was in my account, and the work blazed ahead. And now, as you see, the machine is ready. Petros and Saelin believe in it, believe in the success of this venture—and for that alone I am endlessly grateful to them."

  Ashley was silent for a moment.

  "It all just fell on us so suddenly," Axel muttered. "A chain of coincidences that could carry us straight into high society, to wealth and fame… And frankly, it frightens me a little."

  "Nonsense, Axel," Ashley brushed it aside. "It’s wonderful! The world has never seen such a machine, and you are its inventor… Your name will go down in history! Do you realize that? All of us will go down in history. I’m certain Petros and Saelin have an excellent plan, and they’ll carry it through."

  "You know…" Axel hesitated, as though afraid of his own candor, then pressed on: "I’ve always been a skeptic. I trust only what I can touch, see, test with my own hands, and confirm by results. And this whole venture with the crossroads of time… it smells of castles in the air. Your Petros and Saelin are reaching for what has never been in human power—the fabric of time itself. And that may lead to unpredictable consequences. Notice—I don’t say bad. I say only… unpredictable."

  "Axel." Ashley allowed herself to touch his hand. "Calm yourself. In any case, we are merely the executors. Success will belong to all of us, while failure will fall only upon Petros and Saelin… But I don’t believe in failure. Something so grand cannot end in defeat."

  The guide only gave a curt nod.

  But something in his face told Ashley that his concern had much deeper roots than what showed in his words.

  ***

  Days passed.

  The wagons arrived with the last crates. All the gathered equipment had gone through a meticulous inspection, and only the most essential items were chosen. These Axel, Petros, and Saelin loaded onto the airship.

  The weight of the cargo was checked and re-checked. Nubel swore that during their stay in Petista, he had been training hard and even lost a few pounds. One night, Axel tested his machine once again, and in the morning, he announced that the aerostat held up perfectly, and with people aboard, it would be just as steady.

  And then the great day came. The day of departure.

  It was clear, with thin whirls of clouds across a piercingly blue sky and the enormous golden disk of the sun. The warmth of May had arrived, insects hummed in the air, Petista bloomed, and the fields around the city were sprouting green shoots. A train of wagons pulled up to the barn, Axel threw open the wide doors. The airship’s hull, with its folded balloon still hidden inside a special compartment, was dragged out into the sunlight by several dozen hired workers.

  In the sun, it looked like nothing more than a rough wooden monstrosity bound with tarred ropes. Anyone who had not seen the aerostat in flight would never have believed it could rise into the sky. The Nocturn workers seemed not to wonder about it at all; they just hauled the thing through the city streets, ignoring the passersby’s curious calls. Axel walked proudly alongside the horses, giving directions, while Petros and Saelin exchanged quiet remarks. The others kept their thoughts to themselves. Everyone felt that nervous flutter in the stomach.

  The aerostat was hauled through the northern gate, but they didn’t stop there. They pressed on, leaving the road and cutting through tall grass until the city walls fell away into the distance, the people and carriages of Petista no longer distinguishable. In the middle of a wide field, the hull was dragged down from the wagons and set upon the ground. Petros said something to the workers, who wordlessly turned their horses and rode back. Ashley squinted against the wind. Axel opened the hatch and slipped inside the dusky interior.

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  "For now, we wait," Petros warned calmly, tamping down his pipe.

  Then, with a creak, panels opened atop the hull. A low humming began, and something vast, woven of coarse gray canvas, slowly rose into the air, swelling, taking shape. Ashley gasped softly. Hector stared, transfixed, unable to look away. Propellers began to spin, the movable wooden fins shifted into place, and the whole machine filled with rattling, hissing, grinding sound. The balloon, fed with hot air, swelled larger and larger, straining the web of ropes binding it to the hull.

  The last folds smoothed out, the flames roared, the balloon rose high, and Axel appeared above, running to the railing.

  "Quickly inside! Just a few more minutes and she’ll leave the ground!"

  Saelin leaped first, scrambling up the ladder and pulling Hector and then Ashley through the door into the dusty gloom, where sunlight streamed in narrow shafts from small, round windows. A stairway led upward where Axel bustled about, while inside everything groaned and swayed, giving the impression that the whole contraption might collapse mid-flight.

  "Faster!" their guide shouted. "And get to the deck if you don’t want to miss the show!"

  The aerostat trembled, gathering itself as if every plank tightened like a muscle ready to leap. Vergilius clambered inside, Petros vaulted in last, shutting the hatch behind him, while Ashley was already climbing the stairs upward. Axel, his red hair in wild disarray, greeted her.

  "Grab the rail and hold on tight! The start can be rough, but it evens out!"

  And at that moment, the flying ship tore free from the ground.

  Ashley screamed a sharp, thin cry. Hector shouted too, just as he stumbled onto the "deck." Nubel bellowed, stuck below, Saelin shouted from fear for both of them, Vergilius hollered in sympathy, and only Axel and Petros kept silent: the first because he had already experienced this, the second because he had bitten his tongue in surprise.

  Above them loomed the swollen globe of the balloon, pulled taut by dozens of ropes, flames from the metal burner licking upward into its mouth. The roar was deafening. The floor shifted and quaked beneath them; had she not clutched the rail, Ashley would have fallen. The aerostat rose steadily, groaning and swaying, but slowly leveling out. Ashley dared to look down, and her breath caught.

  She saw the trampled grass, receding far below, the city shrinking beneath them, and then she dared lift her gaze higher and was overwhelmed with awe. The endless sky moved toward her, dazzling white clouds shining against the deep blue. The wind roared past, whipping the windvane at the stern. The horizon spread wider and wider until her head spun from the height. She rose above the last balcony of her tower in Estogil, then higher still, above the tallest tower of the Mainor Institute, where students watched the stars. It was terrifying. And it was beautiful beyond words. Her hair whipped in the wind, whether from fear or rapture, she did not know. The aerostat did not slow its climb.

  Axel too released the rail, moving toward the prow where a wheel and several levers controlled their course. The others crowded along the railing, staring in speechless wonder.

  The earth below had become a patchwork of green and brown with a thin gray road cutting through it. Petista itself was nothing but a rough circle dotted with tiny houses no larger than matchboxes. At its center, the governor’s palace rose on its hill, but even its spires and banners were already far beneath them. The walls and towers dividing the districts could still be traced, the widest streets like arteries through which the city’s lifeblood flowed—people, horses, carriages, wagons.

  Did any of them down there see? Did they lift their eyes from their daily drudgery, or glance upward by chance to catch sight of a ship flying northward, toward the Olmaer mountains veiled in cloud?

  Or was the ship already beyond the reach of any gaze from below?

  Axel stood at the wheel for a long time, adjusting levers, then went back to the burner, lowering the flames as he checked the instruments. At last, he wiped sweat from his red brow, caught his breath, and sat down upon the "deck," as he liked to call the roof of the hull, seafarer that he was.

  "We’ve reached a fine height, no need to climb further. Now we’ll move level, straight across. Well, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to relax and enjoy the view. We’ll fly northwest for two days without stopping before we reach Derelzfjord. Right, Petros?"

  The mage slowly released his grip on the rail, as though waking from a trance.

  "Yes," he murmured. "Yes, Axel. Our next stop is the Temple of Tornir, and the long-awaited meeting with your future father-in-law, Konrad. Much has piled up during our preparations that must be discussed."

  "Excellent," Axel nodded. "He must be eager. Great times are upon him, after all…"

  Ashley stepped to the prow, no longer clinging to the railing, gazing ahead boldly. The wind rushed to meet her, tugging at her hair, caressing her sun-weary skin. The sun blazed at her right hand, immense and shining, seeming almost closer, brighter, as though it rose just for her. Ahead, the shadowy bulk of mountains was already in sight, almost within reach, and beyond them lay the border of Vaimar.

  The aerostat drifted gently, wooden fins creaking as they caught the currents, the propellers humming, the burner roaring with flame. The Western province passed far below.

  They were flying.

  ***

  A couple of hours later, when the sun broke its way through the clouds to the very middle of the sky, the mountains had drawn so close that it became clear: the aerostat’s altitude was not enough to overcome them. A mighty, sharp-peaked Rokastr rose directly ahead, wrapping its snowcapped summit in cumulus clouds. The gray mass of its steep slope, slashed by dozens of ravines and paths, strewn with crags and thickly overgrown with shrubs and grasses at the base, loomed larger and larger, no longer possible to take in at a glance. Behind it, little by little, more peaks emerged, showing their dark flanks—Arrox, Legorus, Makshell. Below, green alpine meadows stretched in their shadows, the dark, jagged maws of gorges opened, and one could make out the winding thread of the Folkar’s Pass leading far north.

  "Attention, everyone, hold tight—or better yet, get below!" barked Axel. Hector and his father hurried off; after them, reluctantly, followed Vergilius and Nubel. Left on deck were the unflappable Petros and Ashley, still in a state of light euphoria.

  "Ashley, for Aktos’ sake, you’ve no business here either! It’s going to get really rough!"

  "So what!" the sorceress shouted back cheerfully. "I’m not afraid! I want to see how we fly over Olmaer!"

  "What does it matter whether you’re afraid or not!" Their guide was still peering tensely ahead, cautiously turning the wheel and steering the aerostat in a wide arc left of Rokastr. Then suddenly he sprang from his spot and dashed to the burner, sharply increasing the flame. Orange tongues roared, the balloon jerked and crawled upward, nearly toppling everyone on deck. "Don’t you understand? It’s simply dangerous! This might be the first real danger of the entire expedition!"

  Ashley ignored him and only gripped the railing tighter, her eyes fixed on the scene opening before her.

  Rokastr seemed to shift, slowly sliding rightward. The raging high-altitude wind tore at the ropes and shook the gondola, but the balloon kept climbing higher and higher, gliding into the space between two gigantic peaks that stabbed at the clouds. Suddenly, a chilling cold swept over them, the aerostat shuddered so violently that both Ashley and Petros were thrown to the wooden floor, barely clinging to the guardrails, while Axel all but hung off the wheel, fighting to change course. The burner was set to full blast, the fire roared, the aerostat rose higher still. Before them yawned the dizzying abyss of a mountain valley, and directly overhead loomed an unimaginably close ceiling of clouds.

  "Attention!" Axel roared over the wind. "Cutting flame and fuel! No more climbing, heading north-northwest!"

  The gondola rocked again from side to side. Ashley let out a muffled cry and fell to the deck. The wind shrieked without pause, and the cold up top raised goosebumps on their arms and froze the blood in their veins. The sun had slipped behind the clouds and now barely touched them with its vital rays. All around drifted the mountain giants. Below lay a valley trapped between immense gray stone monoliths, whose summits forever gleamed with snow in daylight.

  "We can be proud of ourselves," Axel muttered, glancing upward. The crown of the balloon dissolved into the milky swirls of cloud, a light damp mist seemed to hang around them. They were flying almost right beneath the clouds, but kept a little lower, constantly adjusting altitude, just enough to follow the route and avoid smashing into a peak that suddenly appeared in their path. The guide held the wheel firmly, steering the balloon in broad arcs around the mountain slopes; their snowy caps remained far above, as unattainable as they had seemed from below. But to see them from this angle was still unimaginably beautiful. "Few mortals have ever risen to the height of the King of Olmaer… Rokastr…"

  "True enough," Petros nodded, still too shaken to get up from the floor, trembling all over. "We’re the first lunatics to attempt such a feat… Don’t take it personally, Axel. You’re handling this thing superbly. No one could do better. With every passing minute I’m more confident in the flight’s success."

  The guide only smirked, carefully turning the wheel. And the balloon drifted onward. Deeper into the majestic kingdom of mountains. By now, Rokastr’s bulk had faded into a gray shadow far behind, with other peaks shouldering up beside it, blocking the foothills. Everything visible beyond the gondola was Olmaer ridge, the endless stone spine of Laugdeil. Snowcaps gleamed and mountain passes shone beneath the sun, dark scars of crags and jagged spurs bristled, bottomless ravines and wide gorges led down into unreachable depths.

  And all of it could be taken in with a single glance.

  The wind whistled and tore at the ropes, the balloon swayed side to side. Ashley at last pulled herself from the railings and, shivering, moved toward the ladder. She cast one last look outside, straining her eyes toward the horizon. It seemed to her that from here, at a height where only mountain eagles soared, one might see even the ocean… But the mountains were everywhere. To the very edge of the earth, where their snowy caps merged with the milky swirls of clouds.