“Possibly.”
Night had fallen by the time we’d cut away the basket and crafted torches. I’d known how to build them since I was about five.
“I hope the town of Valyar Bay is illuminated at night,” said Sephi. “It would be bothersome if we missed it and ended up over the sea.”
“Agreed.” I glanced at the refilled balloon. The burner and remains of the fuel tank now served to support our limited supply of torches, and when they were gone, as a focal point for some fire magic.
I cut the mooring line.
We drifted into the night sky.
The torches burned longer than expected, with Sephi taking the first turn supplementing them with magic heat as they began to dim.
“I hope all the energy I have dedicated to theoretical studies has not come at the expense of casting,” she said.
“Same here. I don’t know how much heat we have to generate to keep this thing aloft, but…” I sighed. “Eh, worst case, we come back down again.”
“That is far from the worst case.”
Minutes turned to… hours? I honestly didn’t know how long it had been. The clock was destroyed in the fire.
My hands and forearms ached from gripping the rigging, ropes cut into my thighs. We’d tied little loops into the rigging to wrap arms and legs through, but my contorted posture strained every joint.
Moonlight highlighted only treetops and upper boughs. The forest floor hundreds of meters below was naught but shadows, where monsters lurked. The only bright spot to our plan? It was cold, but with little wind chill: our balloon traveledwiththe wind.
I looped an elbow through the rigging so that I could rest my other hand. I clenched and relaxed my fist.
“Your worst case may come to pass sooner rather than later.” Her enunciation was clear as always, yet the tone was strained. “I do not know how much longer I can channel this much power.”
“Let me take over.” I focused on the glowing burner, channeling energy into heat. It wasn’t hard to do for a few seconds; to light a candle or a campfire. But hour after hour? My core tingled, my limbs ached, and my head felt like someone had taken a club to it.
She rubbed her temples. “Mister…Theo,if we don’t make it, I—”
“We’ll make it. We’ll set back down and spend the night in a tree if we have to.”
“Please.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “I need to trust someone with this. It has been… gnawing at me.”
I closed my eyes.
As my concentration waned, I could feel the metallic glow fading.
I had questions. This wasn’t how I wanted to find answers. Yet if it would comfort her.
I clapped a hand atop hers and squeezed. “I’m all ears.”
“You are hilarious, Mister Thistlewood.”
I should have felt some sort of anticipation, eagerness to finally have answers. But the situation jumbled my emotions.
She squeezed my shoulder. “I did not know the man we found dead in the hold, I was truthful about that. Yet it was not our first encounter. We spoke a few times during the voyage. And that very day, I discovered that he had given me something.”
“Uh-huh.” My vision swam as I fought to maintain the flow of energy.
“It was a journal. An old one. From the time of the Empire.”
I groaned. The connection faltered.
“Let me take over.”
