Crow

The wind was bitingly cold that morning as Cara stared miserably into the maelstrom below. Of course it was safer to fly above lightning storms, but that didn’t seem to matter so much after six hours on shift. Not when you were in the Crows, anyway. She thought of the others who got to work in the belly of the ship. Sure, maybe they were only stacking barrels and monitoring equipment but at least they were warm. She knew most of them envied her this position. Being able to see the sky, both the storms below and the mists above, but they hadn’t done a stint up here so their opinion was essentially worthless.

Cara sighed as the edges of her goggles began to ice over again. If she let it continue, she’d be blind in a matter of minutes. But taking them off to clean would mean getting a battering from the gale that was howling about her head. She made the decision to leave them until it was dire and focus on keeping her breathing steady.

There had been an issue with the hull-rock that morning, the Engineers were examining it but nobody knew the problem yet. In the night, when the Mappers were at the least accurate, they’d somehow managed to end up several leagues higher than they intended. It was worrying. They’d only left port a few days ago; they didn’t have any cargo yet. These ships were crafted around the hull-rock, the timbers sunk deep into the stone.

Everything revolved around the rocks, you see. Cara had heard tales of rocks that plummeted to the ground, ones heavier than water or even worked-metal. But she’d never seen anything like that. For her and hers, rocks were buoyant, and the best resource they had. If it wasn’t for the power of flight this enabled, they would have had to live on the ground of the planet below. If there even was a ground, nobody had even seen one through the storms so if it was there, it must be a wretched place.

But now the hull-rock was failing them? If not properly maintained, they’d float off into uncharted sky and be lost among the stars. They’d have to stock up on cargo as soon as possible. They were heading to a nearby island to farm trees. Good. Wood was heavy; they wouldn’t leave the levels any time soon.

Between that and the appearance of a storm in their area of sky, there had been no doubt that they’d be in the ice today. And that’s why Cara had been volunteered to man the Crows. Her post swayed dangerously in the wind as she looked out over the ship and the various rocks positioned to allow manoeuvrability, some pinned to the sides of the ship and spun to turn them, some floating on strings, weighted or released to dictate height. At least all of those were working. Far below her, she could see the Engineers running about with chisels and various other instruments.

There was no doubt that her job was important. She, along with several others positioned on poles around the ship, watched the skies for storms or anything else that could throw them off course. There were many dangers outside the calm areas of the sky, sometimes there were even new rocks that could smash a ship to splinters if they weren’t avoided. There was no point Mapping most of these as they floated wherever they were carried by the flurries of wind that supported them.

Blowing out a breath, Cara dug her mittened hands deeper into her pockets. The harness keeping her safe was cutting into her shoulders uncomfortably because she’d done it tighter than normal to compensate for the freezing gusts that buffeted her from every angle.

She was about to brave the wind and take her goggles off, it really was becoming impossible to see, when the klaxon went. Cara sent a silent thanks to whatever gods there were, and prepared to swing back to deck. Her hands fumbled with the release clasp but eventually she managed to loose it. With that, she smiled for the first time in hours, and stepped off the tiny platform. She caught hold of the wooden handle just below her and it started to revolve slowly, each circle bringing her closer to the deck.

After a few seconds, Cara let out a grumble and reached up to unhook the safety brake. Completely against the rules, naturally, but her impatience outweighed her sense of duty and she began to spiral faster and faster towards the deck. Her harness still kept her safely in place, but her legs swung out as she descended.

Close to the floor, she engaged the brake again and slowed to a graceful halt. She undid the various buckles holding her in and finally stepped onto solid timber. Well, as solid as a floating ship got in an ice-storm anyway.

“Came down too fast, girl, you’ll break your neck one of these days.” Gethin was watching her with a stern look on his face. Cara shot him a mocking bow and sauntered off to one of the hatches to go down below. It had begun to crust over in the cold but a few kicks from her solid boots soon freed it and she hauled it up.

As she was about to jump in, she saw another Crow coming towards her and she waved him in first. That was Hale; she could see his red hair poking out from underneath the cap pulled over his ears.

They both jumped in, pulling the hatch closed behind them. Cara let out a sigh of relief as she pulled her goggles off and let the warm, close air reach her skin. The two of them jogged to the changing rooms and then Cara began to rapidly remove the ridiculous amount of outer layers she’d put on to try and stay alive outside. When she’d finished, she had a quick look in the mirror to make sure she was adhering to the strict rules that you had to follow below deck.

Yes, she looked the same as always. She needed a haircut but that could wait another few weeks. Her black hair was short, much shorter than most of the girls on the main Islands. It was shorn fairly close at the sides but she left a strip longer down the middle that she could brush into a point if she wanted.

“You should grow your hair, you know.” Hale had stepped up next to her and was fixing his own mane of red locks, brushing it out where the wind and tried to style it for him. Cara just rolled her eyes at him and ruffled her hair up. Next to Hale she looked like a ragamuffin, but he always did his best to look charming so Cara didn’t care.

They were dressed in the same style clothes, practical close-fitted leather breeches and a tunic tied at the waist. Once you had the basic uniform on, most close to embellish it with jackets and jewellery but there never seemed any point while on a trip. Not for those who had to venture over deck, anyway.

“Seriously, little Car, you look more like a boy than I do on some days. What are you now, twenty? Shouldn’t you be trying to catch a man rather than trying to look like one?”

She ignored him. After a few seconds looking pleased with himself, Hale gave her a wink in the mirror and walked out the room, no doubt going to try and woo the kitchen girls. He was an idiot but he was a good Crow, and an acceptable friend.

Cara examined herself in the mirror. She wasn’t trying to look like a boy, it just made no sense to have all that hair when you spent half your life tied to a pole several scores of feet above a floating ship. With her big, dark eyes and button nose, Cara always thought she looked more like a child than either a man or a woman. Either way, it wasn’t important. She looked different to everybody else anyway, even without the scars. Her skin was darker than theirs; she always looked tanned whereas all the others looked like they were made of china.

She held her arms out, but spending more time staring blankly at the flat welts that decorated her forearms wouldn’t tell her any more than it usually did. When Captain had found her as a child, she’d been flayed within an inch of her life and left to die upon a tiny rock in the sky. He’d brought her in and trained her up, the girl with nought but a name, but the scars had never fully healed. Some days, Cara quite liked them. They made her look mysterious, maybe a little dangerous, but on other days, days like today, all she could think about was that the cold would make them ache and she’d be no use later on.

Pulling her sleeves down, she decided to go get something to eat before she went to sleep. It was only mid-afternoon but it was best to get sleep in while you could. You never knew when you’d next be called to duty around here.

With that, the klaxon rang again. This time it was three short bursts. Cara was in action before her brain had fully processed this. She was back at her trunk, pulling out her outer clothes and putting them back on. She heard Hale slam into the wall as he skidded into the room and began the same process. Within two minutes of the signal, they were back at the hatch. Mappers and Engineers were still coming through it so they waited. Hale bounded up the ladder and reached a hand back down to pull her up.

On any other day, Cara would have slapped the help aside but this was an emergency and no time to feed one’s ego. As her boots hit the deck, Gethin threw her a Sket, which she caught and shouldered with precision. She did not like guns. Guns were unreliable and impersonal. They were weapons for cowards and thugs. But she was given one by a commanding officer and so she’d use it. She ran to her Crow pole and vaulted the first few steps next to it, Clambering up the rope, hand over hand, she hooked an arm and a leg around the specially placed handles and leant out.

She pulled the Sket up one-handed and placed the butt in her shoulder, balancing the weight and pointing the barrel out ahead of her. She could see it now, dark timbers appearing out of the storms below, rising to meet them. To fly through a lightning storm meant they wanted something specific, they must think there was precious cargo being hauled. When the dark ship fully reared out of the clouds, her dark timbers seemed menacing and cold.

These must be thieves, brigands, pirates. They were coming for them. But Cara allowed herself a small smile. She was no longer cold or bored, no longer an orphan or an outcast. She was just Cara, a Crow of the Sky Ship ’Calculum’, and she would defend her home. Below her, she heard Gethin let out a battle cry as he raised his gun over his head. With the wind in her hair, her body finally embracing the wind, letting it carry her and her crew to those who would pillage her ship, would ride in her sky.

It was a good day to fly.