The Keystone Staff Read online

  "And your job is?"

  "That," she said, "you'll have to ask Jorthen. May I please be excused?"

  Fitch nodded and Kera took her cue to walk out of the cabin. Vessa sat on the edge of his desk and crossed her arms, looking down on Fitch.

  "You're quiet," he said.

  "She's still hiding something from us."

  "She's hiding something from us, he's hiding something from her, we're hiding something from him. I'm liking this flight less and less." Fitch ran his fingers through his black hair and then stroked his beard.

  "She could still tell Jorthen about me."

  "They still need us to smuggle them into Qattan. We're hired to get them into the city but a whisper in the right ear and they may never leave."

  Or she could stumble off the flight deck and a thousand feet to the ground, he thought. Fitch wasn't sure he would be able to convince Jorthen of that accident happening and he hoped that Kera would keep her word. He would rather not murder someone if he could avoid it.

  "Vessa, one other thing," he said. "We've both seen Jorthen in action, did he seem slow to show up to the fight?"

  "His cabin is in the lower decks so he did have a way to travel."

  "Maybe. But the Aramkeen rarely enlist the Witchwarriors unless they know they'll be encountering a Warden. Usually one witch per Warden."

  "So what are you saying?"

  "I'm saying that someone knew we had a Warden of Aeon aboard this ship," said Fitch. "Someone knew Jorthen was here."

  Chapter Six: Kera

  The mess deck's benches were partly full with rowdy skymen as Kera walked in. With one of her books tucked under her arm, she poured herself a cup of grog and scanned the room for a seat.

  In Valtan, whenever she walked through the streets, she was treated with a fair amount of courtesy. Even in Jin's martial arts training center, the other pupils distanced themselves from her.

  But the crew of the Silent Star treated her no differently than they did each other after the Aramkeen attack. They seemed to have accepted her as an equal after suffering a 'war wound,' as slight as it was.

  She could have asked Jorthen to heal it for her with a Medijewel but she was hesitant to bring up any mention of a Lenstone. It may lead to questions of her now shattered Luminstone. Luindre's warning to not trust Jorthen also rang through her mind.

  The power she was able to channel through it was immense and unlike anything she had experienced before. It was said some of the most powerful Wardens in the Citadel's history had been able to focus so much energy into a stone in extreme situations that it would crack but she'd never heard of one shattering into a thousand pieces.

  Her mind raced with possibilities but without access to the athenaeum she couldn't look into it further. Instead, she had spent the last few days aboard trying to understand the airship and her crew. The ship itself was a technological wonder from the far west Freehold continent. Its hull was constructed from balsa, formerly indigenous to the Freehold rain forests. A hundred years ago, an enterprising merchant prince shipped a few of the trees east, past the Disc Sea, and broke the monopoly on building airship frames. The only place outside of the Freehold that balsa thrives is in the rainforests of the Aess continent, west of the Dragonlands. While the Dragon Lords rarely attack far away from their volcanic empire, the balsa forest had grown deeper inland over the years and the attacks became more frequent. The Silent Star was an older vessel from the Freehold. It was built to endure.

  The gas bags are made of goldbeater skin from the mammoths that the Freehold hunted to extinction on their continent. The Empire of Shintah to the far east had bred the animals for centuries and the grasslands are now swarming with the large beasts. There is even a myth that the Oracle herself walked the entire Crimson Road to protect the mammoths from being hunted there too.

  But the Freehold is still the only supplier of the spirit of flight, an invisible gas that provides lift. The only place outside of the Freehold that are supplied with reserve spirit is the neutral Gateway Cities of Arynhaar on the far side of the Disc Sea. Kera learned that crew members of the Silent Star referred to it as 'funny-air' because of its peculiar ability to change the pitch of one's voice.

  "Lass," said Rogo. "Come sit over here!"

  Rogo was the first crew member she spoke to when she boarded the airship. Whatever hair he lacked on his head, he made up for with his black burly moustache. The whiskers grew away from his face, past his ears, which he molded into points. It covered both his nostrils and upper lip. Kera wondered if he had issues breathing. Despite towering over the entire crew and having a body shaped like a wine barrel, Rogo spoke with a soft voice. Kera sat down next to him and three other crew members.

  "And what are we studying tonight, Lass?" he asked.

  "Same as always, Rogo," she said. "Books about the place we're heading towards."

  "Aye. I saw it from the lower bridge this morning. We'll be there soon. I'll miss ya when you're gone."

  "Rogo, that's sweet. But there's still the trip back home so you won't be rid of me yet."

  "Aye, so I won't!"

  Kera raised her cup. "To a good crew and the only home away from home I've ever known," she said. Rogo and the other three crewmen followed suit. Vessa was right, Kera thought. You get used to it.

  As she put her drink down, Jorthen walked in, making his way to their table. Rogo stiffened his back when the Warden reached the table. "You're drinking?" he frowned.

  "It's, uh, only to stave off the scurvy, Master."

  "Hmm. Gather your belongings and meet me down in the cargo hold. We need to prepare for descent."

  Without another word, he walked off. Kera glanced at Rogo, who shrugged and raised his cup to her as she got up from the table.

  ***

  Jorthen stood in the cargo hold speaking with Captain Fitch and Vessa as Kera approached. Most of the crew were now working the bellows, filling the ballonets with air to bring the ship down.

  Fitch and Vessa pulled on a few planks of wood from the wall revealing a tight space between the inner and outer hull. There was no room for their legs to bend so they would have to stand. Being this near the bottom of the ship, however, put the wall at a 45 degree slant so it would be nearer to lying down than to standing. This was the part of the plan Kera was dreading.

  "This may be uncomfortable but it's the only way we can get you into Qattan," Fitch said. "My crew has been in and out of the city several times and are vouched for with travel stones. The only way for non-Elderlandians to enter is to be given one half of a stone that has been broken in two. The two halves must match perfectly and they keep a portrait of the holder on file. When we land, it will be a slow process to match all the stones and portraits so be as quiet as possible."

  Jorthen and Fitch clasped arms and the Warden slid into the crawl space. Kera placed her bag inside and crawled in after him, feeling like she was about to be entombed. Vessa nodded to her and she returned a small smile. The planks were placed over them, locking them away in darkness.

  A few moments passed before Jorthen spoke. "Have you narrowed our search for the staff yet?" he asked.

  "There are two books I've been poring through again and again: Gornen's account of the final stand in the War of the Heavens and a guide to Old Qattan," she said. "If Luindre's notes are correct, then the last mention of the staff was in Leonii's care just before the final assault on the airship armada. Qattan was the staging area for the Wardens in that battle, most of whom possessed an Aerostone to fly."

  "Which is why Aerostones are so rare, most of them were lost in the battle," Jorthen interjected impatiently. "I know all this from the historical accounts."

  "I'm far more interested in what is missing from the texts. The account of the battle makes no mention of Leonii."


  "So Leonii may not have been part of it at all?"

  "That's what Luindre's notes in Gornen's account seem to imply. Leonii never left Qattan. In the guide to Qattan, Luindre noted a necropolis existed before the sinkhole swallowed part of the city on the surface. I believe that if Leonii lived out his days in the city then-"

  "Then the Keystone Staff would be buried with him! The question now is whether the necropolis fell into the sinkhole or not."

  "It didn't. When the city fell, neighboring nations attacked. The remaining citizens ended up in the only defendable site they could find, the necropolis. This became the first tower in the protective walls that surround the current city."

  "Then we must somehow steal inside the wall and locate the proper tomb," Jorthen said.

  Getting in and out will be difficult but I know exactly where he Keystone Staff is, Kera thought. And once we reach Leonii's tomb, this farce will be over. The Silent Star began its decent into Qattan.

  Chapter Seven: Fitch

  Fitch stood at the brig door with a rapier at the ready and peered inside through the wicket. The Witchwarrior sat crosslegged on the floor with her long black hair framing her pale face. Her red eyes shot up to meet Fitch's.

  The captain had her locked up in the Silent Star's brig since the attack by the Aramkeen, trying to avoid this conversation. The Witchwarriors of Nor are from the northern lands along the Crimson Road. Traders who travel from the Empire of Shintah to the Protectorates have spoken of them stealing men from the caravans as breeding stock. Once they outlived their usefulness... well, meat was scarce up north.

  "What's your name, witch?" Fitch asked.

  "Yominai," she responded.

  The witches seem to give birth to women but some tales say that on rare occasion they do give birth to boys. Those are considered a delicacy. Fitch didn't know the truth of those stories. What he knew is that anyone captured by a witch would be given the choice of becoming property or death. He hoped this applied to the Witchwarriors themselves.

  "Yominai, there's no easy way to say this," Fitch said. "I have to know if I open this cage whether you'll murder me."

  The witch uncrossed her legs and stood up in one fluid motion. She walked towards the brig door window and smiled -- it was a garish grin of sharp teeth, filed into points. "If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't be standing here now."

  Jorthen believed her, she became docile as soon as she surrendered. "I have a problem, the Qattanians loathe magick users and will put you to the sword as soon as they find you. Then they'll put me to the sword. So the simplest solution is to just slit your throat and toss you overboard."

  Yominai bowed her head. "I understand."

  Fitch paused. "Or I've heard that the Witchwarriors can make themselves invisible, is that true?"

  She raised her head to meet Fitch's dark brown eyes and nodded.

  "Well, which is it? Should I slit your throat or get your potions?"

  "You do not seem to understand," she said. "I am your property until you decide you no longer want me. I will do whatever you say, when you want me to do it."

  "What happens if I decide to set you free?"

  "Then," she said, "I will murder you."

  Fitch stared into her blood red eyes for a moment. "Fair enough," he replied and slid the key into the lock. His left hand on his sword, ready to strike.

  "One other thing," Fitch said. "Murder none of my crew or passengers or try to take them as property. Treat them as your allies."

  "Clever boy. As you wish."

  Fitch turned the key, unlocking the brig door, and Yominai glided out. She was tall -- a full head taller than Fitch -- and extremely slender. He led her into the hoist where they ascended to the upper-decks. The few crew members they encountered seemed to find alternate routes to wherever they were going. The pair approached the captain's cabin.

  Once inside the cramped room, he pointed to his desk were the witch's potions lay. She rifled through a dozen small vials before settling on a black liquid and something that resembled a sugar cube she produced from a small pouch.

  "This will render me invisible for the better part of a day. Shall I begin?" she asked.

  Fitch nodded as the witch prepared her potion. "Why did the Aramkeen hire you? Or were you their property as well?"

  "I was hired. Our mission was to subdue and retrieve a female Warden of Aeon."

  Fitch's jaw slackened. "You came to kidnap Kera? Why her?"

  She shrugged. "I wasn't told why they wanted her. All I know is that she was to be unharmed."

  Yomanai chanted under her breath and poured the black liquid onto the white cube. The entire volume of liquid from the flask seeped into the tiny cube. She placed it under her tongue and closed her eyes. Fitch didn't see her fade away, but rather lost track of where she was in the room.

  "Did it work?" he asked.

  Fitch felt her breath on the back of his neck. "Can you see me?" she responded.

  A shiver ran down his spine as he turned around but still saw no trace of her. "No," he said.

  "Well then," was all she answered.

  ***

  Fitch walked into the lower bridge and looked over Qattan. The city looked as if the gods gouged a chunk out of the world -- a massive crater with sheer vertical walls that descended into the semi arid rock. Homes and shops were built into the walls along the spiral roads that wound from the top of the sinkhole to the bottom. It was along these roads where the affluent lived while the poor lived and worked farther inside the rock through a series of passages.

  At the bottom of the sinkhole was a giant freshwater lake that was worth more to the people of Qattan than the gold and iron they mined. The city's circumference was surrounded by a wall with eight watchtowers at ground level. Two of the towers that stood opposite each other were connected via the Wharf Bridge, spanning the diameter of the city where airships could moor.

  Rogo was at the helm and docked the Silent Star into a spot on the Wharf Bridge. As the ship made its descent, Fitch felt uneasy. There were no other airships berthed in Qattan and as they got closer to the bridge, he noticed a company of soldiers standing at the dock.

  "I'm going down to the cargo hold, something's wrong," Fitch said.

  He ran down to the cargo hold where Vessa was waiting to greet the customs officer as she lined up the crew for processing. When he saw her, he grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her to the false wall where he hid Jorthen and Kera.

  "Something is going on, Jorthen. Qattan is brimming with soldiers and there are no airships docked in the city," said Fitch, leaning close to the wall. "It looks like the place is in lockdown. We might need to fight our way out. I'll let you know more when I know what's happened."

  Vessa and Fitch walked away from the false wall to the lowering cargo hold ramp. Waiting on the other side were soldiers led by a customs officer, who briskly walked aboard the Silent Star. He was a short man with large sideburns and a crooked nose.

  "Who are you and what is your business in the city of Qattan?" he asked.

  "I'm Captain Fitch of the Silent Star and this is my first mate Vessa," Fitch said. "We're just traders coming in from the Empire of Shintah with silks and spices."

  "Ah. Unfortunately, the timing to peddle your wares couldn't be any worse. The Elderlands have placed Qattan under a strict travel policy. Your ship will have to stay moored until further notice and your crew confined to the ship. Do you have anyone onboard who has never been to Qattan?"

  "Maybe the mice?" Vessa said.

  The customs officer ignored her, "We'll go through all the normal procedures to verify your crew. But anyone who takes a step off the ship will be executed on site. Clear?"

  "Perfectly. How long will we be confined to Qattan?" Fitc
h asked.

  "Until we let you leave."

  The customs officer walked off and started his inspection of the ship. The soldiers asked for papers and travel stones as Fitch relaxed.

  "Looks like whatever they're on standby for, it's not us," Vessa said.

  "It's the only bit of luck we've had on this expedition," Fitch murmured.

  Before Fitch could breathe a sigh of relief, his heart sank. Jorthen emerged between several crates with his staff at the ready. Kera followed him to the customs officer with terror in her eyes. The Qattanian soldiers hollered and drew their swords as the short customs officer turned around to face the Warden.

  "I am Jorthen of the Wardens of Aeon, along with my companion Kera," he said. "I request to speak with the Prefect of Qattan. I believe we're expected."

  The customs officer looked towards Fitch. "You have no one onboard who has never been to Qattan, hmm?"

  A guard grabbed Fitch and placed his hands behind his back. Another did the same to Vessa, who reluctantly stopped struggling when Fitch shot her a sharp look.

  "Jorthen of the Wardens of Aeon," the customs officer said. "I would be delighted to introduce you to our Prefect if you would but hand over your staff."

  Fitch watched in horror as the Warden handed over his staff to the customs officer. Qattan, like all the Elderland city-states, has a kill-on-sight policy regarding the Wardens. Rather than taking Jorthen's head off right there, however, he told his soldier to round up the crew of the Silent Star and place them in the ship's brig.

  "Bring the captain with us," the customs officer said. "Jorthen, we've been expecting you."

  Jorthen, Kera and Fitch were escorted into Qattan City.