1 – Void Leviathan

  Ward stood with Haley and True among another three hundred passengers, watching as the living ship that would carry them through space to Primus approached. He hadn’t seen the thing land, for it had done it far out to sea, and now it was “swimming” into the Westview bay. Even though he knew it was alive, it was hard to wrap his head around the thing—a creature so alien that his earthling, primate mind struggled to categorize it.

  For starters, it was the most enormous creature he’d ever seen—in reality or fiction. He reckoned it was similar in size to one of those gigantic cruise ships that occasionally called to port in Seattle. It wasn’t anything like one of those ships, though. It was bulbous in shape, and, of course, Ward could only see the part of it above water. He had it on good authority that thousands of tentacle-like things hung below it and those propelled it whether in the sea, the air, or space. Its flesh was transparent, but beneath the yard-thick epidermis, dense, jelly-like fluid swirled, and it glowed in pink, yellow, orange, and purple hues.

  Ward couldn’t see any eyes, but dense clusters of antennae sprouted near the “front” of the creature. Occasionally, as it swam toward the long pier, its mouth would open—a yawning cavern of pink tendrils—palp, cirri, or fimbriae—Ward’s mind struggled to classify what he was seeing. The strangest part was how the creature seemed to have grown around and incorporated the “ship” that had been built atop it.

  Its transparent, gelid flesh stretched up in long, thick bands—dozens of yards wide—to cover a crystal and metal housing shaped like a dome atop it. The metal looked like bronze, but Ward had to suspect it was heavily enchanted or some other magical material because he couldn’t imagine a bronze housing surviving extra-planetary launches and landings. The living ship burbled and sang in a deep, sonorous voice that rumbled over the water, and Ward found himself smiling in wonder, nudging Haley with his elbow in his burgeoning excitement.

  “Isn’t it amazing?” she asked, beaming up at him.

  True shifted, grimacing in discomfort; they’d been standing for hours, having gone through the lengthy process of declaring their belongings, proving their identities, and agreeing to all the safety guidelines for traveling aboard the incoming vessel. Once they’d completed that process, they’d had to wait, wholly at the mercy of the ship’s languorous pace through the water as it “recharged” for the flight to Primus. “Aye, it’s something,” the marshal grunted, “but this damn leg’s making me hip sore!”

  Ward looked at the limb in question, unable to tell that it wasn’t a natural one thanks to True’s trousers and boot. She’d only gotten the “clockwork” appendage a few days prior and wasn’t used to it. The maker had insisted it would become more comfortable and easier to manipulate as the enchanted filaments connecting her to the limb became increasingly entwined with her body’s nerves, muscles, and bones. “You can lean on me if you want. Take some weight off it.”

  “Thanks, but we’re through the worst of it now. She’s coming in.” True nodded to the vast, colorful creature, and the more Ward watched it and imagined the tendrils down in the water, the more he realized he did have a sort of analog for it—a jellyfish. It wasn’t an exact match, and obviously, the sizes were way off, but it was enough for him to wonder if there was some distant connection between the two types of creatures.

  “Is it safe to touch that thing?”

  “Weren’t you listening?” Haley nudged him in the ribs. “The guide said we have to touch it on our way up the gangways. When we get near the doors, there’s a spot where the ship’s flesh covers the cabin and—”

  Ward nodded, interrupting, “Right, I remember. The ship wants to get a feel for who it’s carrying around.” In truth, he’d been zoning out for much of the orientation, his mind on the journey ahead.

  “I wouldn’t mind your ’elp with me trunk, though, big feller.” True thumped the toe of her boot into the oversized piece of baggage. Ward grunted, nodding. He had his own baggage to haul, but he could manage both. He still had his leather backpack, but he’d bought a large suitcase, too. In the month after their ordeal with Dame Ruby and her cultists, he’d done quite a lot of shopping.

  He glanced at True and the leather satchel on her shoulder. “You got the, uh, thing in there, right?” He was talking about the artifact that, as far as any of them could ascertain, housed a very evil spirit. True had been charged with delivering it to the Citadel on Primus.

  She nodded, reaching into her vest to fish out a carved wooden pipe. “Yeah. ’Course. Think I’d trust it out of my own beautiful hands?” She sparked a brass and rosewood lighter, sucking the flame into the bowl of her pipe, then proceeded to puff away. Ward chuckled and shrugged, adjusting his sword belt. He rested his hand on the weapon, finally starting to think of it as his own rather than a loan from Haley. She’d protested that it was his plenty, and he’d used it in battle enough times that he had to admit to a bond with the weapon.

  He rested his hand on the pommel, used to the weapon being there by now. Not long after the battle in Dame Ruby’s ritual hall, he’d taken it to a smith for a proper honing and, while there, learned a thing or two about how to treat the blade going forward. The smith had been impressed with the quality of the steel, claiming that the fold lines in it indicated a high level of craftsmanship. It was hard and flexible, and the runes etched into it, despite being dark and jagged, hadn’t harmed the blade's integrity in the least.

  A bell began to clang, and Ward watched as the enormous living vessel veered toward the set of piers—the one Ward and the other prospective passengers stood on and another across the water where people would be disembarking from the other side of the ship. The ship burbled and groaned, then sank deeper, bringing the constructed portion of its body level with the pier as it glided in. Moments later, the bell clanged again, and a wide metallic gangway began to ratchet out.

  “Listen up, folks!” a large man in a sailor’s uniform hollered from the far end of the pier. “We’ll be boarding right away. Single file! Tickets in your hands! If you need help with your cargo, line up between the blue ropes. If you’re ready to board, line up between the red ones. Nice and easy now; no point in rushing! We’re not leaving until you’re all aboard.”

  After that announcement, Ward hefted his suitcase, set it atop True’s trunk, and then picked up one end using a handle, dragging it along behind him. Haley, who only had her backpack to carry, looked at him sideways. “Why don’t you let me take one of those?”

  “It’s nothing.” Ward dragged the trunk over to the red rope line with Haley and True close behind; they were about halfway toward the front. The queue moved slowly, and the trio didn’t board for nearly half an hour after that. As they crossed the gangway—much broader up close than it had looked from afar—crew members directed them toward big double doors with crystal windows. Before entering, however, everyone was directed to rest a hand—no gloves allowed—on a band of the living ship’s flesh.

  Ward watched the people ahead of him do so, many giggling nervously or making exclamations about how warm it was, but nobody seemed to mind the sensation. When it was his turn, he pressed his palm against the weird, translucent flesh, and he felt the energy or aura of the creature immediately. It was a warm sensation that tingled up his arm, and then he simply sensed a vast presence nearby, something colossal that threw a shadow over him, though not unpleasantly. He held his hand there for a moment, and when nothing more happened, he moved through the doors.

  Part of him had worried that the creature would sense Grace and be alarmed, but if it had, it didn’t seem to mind her presence. She was still lying low, insisting that unless he intended to adventure with True permanently, there wasn’t any need to risk her reaction to his “passenger.” All that said, Ward was glad she was content to hide because there were a lot of people on the ship, more than were boarding from Westview. People from other worlds were traveling on to Primus, and there was no telling what sorts of magic and prejudices they might harbor.

  The interior of the ship was much fancier than the vessel he and Haley had taken to Westview. He’d seen plenty of old movies about ships like the Titanic, and that was what came to mind when he looked around at the polished wood, the lush carpeting, the chandeliers, and the polished bronze fixtures.

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  Their rooms were up a short flight of stairs, then down a long corridor toward the “aft” end of the living ship. When the Vainglory Assembly had authorized the purchase of their tickets, they’d only authorized two rooms—one for the ladies and one for Ward. He’d wanted to argue that he didn’t mind sharing a room and that the Assembly was assuming a lot on top of being overbearing, but Haley and True had insisted they preferred the arrangement. Ward wasn’t sure if he should be happy or insulted.

  He dragged True’s chest to her door—their rooms were right next to each other—and, after agreeing to join them to observe the launch in a few minutes, carried his suitcase into his room. “Holy shit, this is pretty nice,” he said, closing the door.

  “A far cry nicer than the room at True’s house.” Grace padded, barefoot, through the thick, burgundy rug.

  “Don’t knock it. She was a pretty nice host.” Ward carried his suitcase over to the big trunk at the foot of the four-poster, full-sized bed. He looked around, noting a small table with two chairs, a wardrobe, and a small bathroom with a deep, porcelain bath and bronze taps. “I mean, the tickets cost a fortune, so I’m not surprised the rooms are so well-appointed, but it’s still hard to imagine we’re on top of a giant jellyfish.”

  Grace laughed. “I thought it looked like a jellyfish, too!”

  Ward chuckled as he removed his new wool coat, his felt hat—freshly brushed and professionally cleaned—and his shoulder holster with his two-shot, breech-loading pistol and hung them all on the rack by the door. He opened the trunk and put his pack inside. That was where he kept his more valuable possessions—the mana well, the hemograph, and his grimoire. The trunk had a key inside and a little card that read, “This is the only key; passengers who lose their keys will be charged a locksmith’s fee.”

  “You should unpack one of your dinner coats. I think it’s expected for gentlemen to wear one on a ship like this.”

  Ward nodded absently, locked up the trunk, then opened his suitcase. He’d bought quite a few clothing items over the last month. He figured some spares were in order in case he had to ruin them by releasing his wolfish alter ego. He took out a dark wool jacket that matched his pants and shrugged into it, enjoying how his hands slid through the silky, pale blue lining. “I look all right?”

  “Dashing. You should shave again before dinner, though.”

  Ward frowned, reaching up to feel his chin. Sure enough, his dark, thick stubble was already coming in. “I shaved this morning.”

  “Small price to pay to carry that potent bloodline, Ward.” Grace clicked her tongue, shaking her head as she walked in a slow circle around him. “The coat looks sharp and clears your sword hilt nicely.”

  “Yeah, the tailor knew what he was doing. Measured me with the sword belt on.” He walked over to the rack where he’d hung his heavier coat and dug the room key out of the pocket. Before he opened the door, he looked at Grace. “See you later, right?”

  “Yep. Hurry now! I don’t want to miss the launch.”

  “Right, right.” He opened the door just in time to see True and Haley exiting their room. “Ready?”

  “Yep. Let’s hurry!” Haley led the way, her steps quick with excitement, back to the central hallway and then to the left, where signs pointed the way to the central gallery and observation deck. True didn’t complain, but Ward could see her grimace occasionally as she stepped, her clockwork knee whirring and clicking with the movement.

  “How you holding up, Marshal?”

  “Just fine,” she said around her unlit pipe. “Better after a stiff drink and a hot bath.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  She nodded to his sword. “Think you’ll need that aboard?”

  Ward snorted. “Who knows, but I sure feel better with it. I don’t see you putting that butcher’s knife in your room.”

  True touched the short, broad-bladed sword. “Butcher’s knife? This is a Travian hack-sword crafted in the second era, and I’d bet it's worth more than our tickets aboard this here fancy vessel!”

  Ward held up his hand in surrender. “My mistake, Marshal.” He grinned, jostling her with his elbow. “Anyway, I don’t see you stowing that away.”

  “I’m a marshal in service of the Assembly. I’m always on duty, good sir.” She clicked her teeth on her pipe and nodded toward the wide open space ahead. It was a high-ceilinged hall with two walls of crystal windows—hundreds of them stacked atop each other, all lined with bronze, leaded frames. They provided an expansive view of the port and forward sides of the living ship. At the moment, the port view showed choppy sea and gray skies, and the forward one displayed a clear view of the smoggy skyline of Westview.

  Hundreds of people milled about, all of them, as Grace had suggested, dressed nicely—women in suits or gowns and nearly all the men in jackets, though their styles varied vastly. Some folks were in silky robes and others in brightly colored suits, but most men were dressed much like Ward in fine, tailored, woolen suits. He looked at Haley, wondering if she felt out of place. She’d purchased some robe-like outfits in Westview—smooth, silken garments in muted shades of blue, gray, and black with flared sleeves and colorful, broad sashes that she tied in elaborate knots.

  “You look good,” he said when she caught him looking. He loved that her very pale cheeks flushed a little, and she looked down, embarrassed. She was getting more and more of her old personality back. Ward hadn’t met many people with the discipline she’d been showing, doing her Gopah practice twice a day for hours on end.

  True dressed more like Ward than most of the ladies in the gallery, and he appreciated that. She was a no-nonsense agent of the law. Her dark brows drew together over her pale brown eyes when she saw him looking at her. She took her pipe out of her mouth and gestured to the massive windows. “You ever been on a ship like this?”

  Ward shook his head. “Nope. I’ve been on airplanes but never flown into space, especially on the back of a giant jellyfish.”

  His humor was lost on True, who narrowed her eyes further, looking at him like he was speaking gibberish. Haley cleared her throat and said, “Ward, the creatures that become living ships are called void leviathans.”

  “Eh, right. I was trying to be glib, I guess.”

  “Is an aeroplane like an airship?” True asked.

  Ward chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, kinda. Faster, though, and smaller.”

  A man in a formal naval-style uniform interrupted further banter with an announcement in a strident baritone voice, “Folks, our leviathan will begin the grand march toward the firmament shortly. Don’t be alarmed by the colorful lights, but do be sure to enjoy the magnificent view of Cinder as it falls away beneath us.”

  A woman in a fine, pearlescent white-and-yellow gown called out, “Is it safe?”

  “Entirely safe, Duchess Yun. Our leviathan is well-traveled and quite stately in his progression through the aether folds.”

  Ward looked at True, arching an eyebrow. “Aether folds?”

  “It’s what the scholars call the leviathan’s ability to accelerate itself through space. Its normal flight is rather lackadaisical—more of a floating bubble with jets of gas to send it moving about. When it aether folds, though, it uses magic to bend the space somehow, skipping enormous distances in a few seconds.” She shrugged, sticking her pipe back between her teeth with a click. “That’s how I understood it when I got the lecture, but I could be all wrong.”

  While talking, they’d meandered through the crowd toward the forward windows. A bar was there with three different tenders handing out drinks, and Ward had his eye on a row of lovely-looking whiskeys. He was about to go over and order a drink when a gentleman in slim-fitting black pants tucked into knee-high boots, a white shirt with pearl buttons, and black hair slicked back with some kind of oil approached. He stopped beside Ward, a good deal shorter and a lot more slender but still carrying himself with a sort of commanding presence.

  He cleared his throat, and Ward looked down at him, inadvertently catching his breath when he saw the bright glow of the fellow’s eyes. “Hello,” he said, turning to face him.

  “Trent Roy.” He held out a hand, and Ward grasped it, giving it a solid squeeze.

  “Ward Dyer.”

  “A fellow walker of the Road, I see.”

  “What’s this, then?” True turned around at the mention of “the Road.” It was part of the “Noble Dueling Doctrine” of the Vainglory System; any member of the noble class or those on the Road were fair game when it came to mortal challenges. Ward was sure True was overreacting. All the guy had asked was whether Ward was on the Road; he was probably looking for a conversation starter.

  Ward nodded, and despite his inner dialogue assuring himself that nothing untoward was going on, he put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “That’s right.”

  “Well then, sir, in the eyes of these two fine ladies and anyone else who will witness, I challenge you to a duel of honor and skill. Let it be known that our blades shall decide the measure of our resolve. The terms? To first blood, unless you wish to name another condition. The prize? One page from the loser’s grimoire.”

  Ward felt a rumble in his gut as the wolf in him recognized a challenge to its status. He narrowed his eyes and leaned a little closer, his fist clenching his sword hilt, but before he could respond, True spoke up, “This ‘fine lady’ is a Marshal of the Assembly. Do you think this is an appropriate time to issue a challenge?”

  Trent held up his hands, and Ward saw he wasn’t armed, or, at least, not obviously. “I don’t mean to fight at this moment. It’s a lengthy voyage. What do you say, Ward? Are you game? I don’t intend to kill or maim you.”

  The floor vibrated and shifted a little, and for a second, Ward thought he was having some sort of episode, but then he realized the ship was moving. Great swaths of pink and yellow light erupted from the creature below them, streaking up past the windows, and then the ship began to lift into the air. It wasn’t moving quickly, but he could see the Westview port and buildings receding out the forward windows.

  “Leave him alone,” Haley said, moving to stand before Ward, her fists clenched.

  “Look, fellow, if you’re not on the Road, just say so. These women seem to think—”

  “Yeah, sure,” Ward said, almost offhandedly, waving his hand dismissively. “We’ll fight sometime soon, but we’ll do it until someone yields, not first blood. Now, let me watch this—I’ve never been to space before.”