The young boy cowered under the metal bed frame, the smell of smoke filling his nostrils. He knew he should move, should run, but it felt as if his entire body were paralysed. The fire was growing, taking over the curtains, burning the home he had known since he was a child. Tears sprung to his eyes. His mother had ushered him upstairs when their front door had burst open, the sound of gunshots following him through the familiar hallways. He had hid in his bedroom, under the bed, and waited.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, his body pressed flat against the carpeted floor. He didn’t dare breathe out for fear of being heard.

Then the fire had started. An explosion shook the frames of the house, deafening him, disorienting his vision. He knew then that no-one was coming for him. That his mother had not survived.

Now he lay curled up into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible. The smoke had long since filled his lungs, and he fell between coughing fits and passing in and out of consciousness. Everything had been going so well. He had been setting the table for dinner, ready for his favourite stew. Mother had made it for his birthday.

He thought about the stew for a while then. It was still sitting on the stove downstairs, probably cold now. Unless the fire had spread to the kitchen.

As he lay there, the darkness pulling him into its tempting depths, the young boy wondered if there would be anything left of his body once the flames consumed him.

It was not an unlikely assumption that, after four months of scrubbing equipment, Anna Briarthorn was extremely fed up. She had calluses on her feet, and her legs seemed to ache constantly, no matter how many hot baths she had. If it weren’t for the free meals, the on-site library, and the fact that this was a once in a life time opportunity, she would have walked out months ago and found herself a nice house somewhere outside of the Kingdom. She would have a small home, surrounded by the trees and a small brook, and she would live out the rest of her days in peace.

She had none of that.

Anna sighed and looked down at the pile of dirty apparatus. Lady Mita had made a point of using as many potion bottles as possible during today's’ lesson, and Anna was sure she had done it simply to give her more work to do. Such a miserable old crone, she thought, turning her back on the mess and leaning against the cabinet. Why should I always be the one to clean up her mess?

She was here to learn the craft of healing, not the craft of being a servant.

As she stood alone in the small room, the smell of herbs imbedded in her nostrils, Anna noticed movement outside of the window. A flash of cloth swirling in the wind as one of the King’s Guards passed by, the point of his sword glistening in the afternoon sun.

Her task forgotten, Anna rushed over to the window and, as quietly as she could, unfastened the latch. It swung open effortlessly, allowing a gust of cool air to blow strands of Anna’s pulled-back hair into her face. The cold bit into her skin, instantly making her more awake than she had felt in weeks.

Outside in the courtyard, Prince Vash was jesting with one of his guards, and quite obviously winning. Anna watched as the young prince gracefully dodged a blow, turned, and struck his opponent in the chest. If it had not been a training sword, it would have pierced the man’s heart.

Prince Vash grinned, his handsome face lighting up with delight at his victory, and Anna rolled her eyes. It was rare anyone was out in the courtyard at this time of day – she had been hoping for something a little more exciting.

The young healer quietly pulled the window closed and reached for the latch, about to face her battle with the chores once more, when the voice of one of the guards caught her attention.

    ‘What time are they arriving, Your Highness?’

Anna paused, her hand hovering above the window latch. Normally, she would have ignored the conversation. Eavesdropping on the Prince, she was certain, would not go down well if she were caught. Her eyes surveyed the courtyard. Well, no-one is around….

Slowly, Anna pushed the window back open, allowing for a small gap that was big enough to allow her to hear, but hopefully inconspicuous enough that should anyone pass by it would go unnoticed. She slid down the wall to sit on the floor below the window.

    ‘This evening,” the Prince replied, clearly unimpressed. ‘I don’t know why my father has invited those barbarians to my ball. If it were up to me, they wouldn’t be allowed within five feet of the castle.’

    One of the guards grunted. ‘From what I hear, they’re nothin’ but trouble. If they cause even the slightest disturbance tomorrow, Your Highness, they’ll be executed before they know it.’

    ‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Vash, making a noise that sounded to Anna like the snort of a pig. ‘Kingsley James is far too devious to make a scene in the castle itself. No, if he causes trouble, it will be within the city, and we will not know about it until he and his crew of miscreants are long gone.’

Anna stiffened. Kingsley James? Captain Kingsley James?

    ‘He’s coming to the ball?’ Captain Kingsley James was the most renowned Air Pirate in the entire Kingdom. And he was coming to the castle. Where she lived.

Excitement blossomed in her chest. If he came here, that meant….

    ‘Even so, Your Highness, we’ll be keeping a very close eye on him. There will be Guards situated outside of his quarters, and he will be escorted to and from the ball. We will never let him, or his crew, out of our sight.’

    The Prince snorted once more. ‘Well, I am anticipated upon their arrival this evening. I expect you to be present, Captain Smith.’ The sound of rustling fabric and clinking swords filled Anna’s ears. ‘Come, I must return to my Chambers and prepare for what is sure to be an…eventful evening.’

As their footsteps grew closer, Anna pressed herself firmly against the wall, praying that they would not notice the open window. After a few seconds, the sound of their voices drifted away, leaving behind only the whistling of the autumn wind.

Anna allowed herself to exhale. It was typical, she thought, that Kingsley James would be in the same building as her, and she would never even get close enough to breathe the same air. With the Prince’s Guard being James’ personal escort, she had no chance.

    ‘Oh, well,’ she sighed, her fingers instinctively going for the chain around her neck. She fiddled with the silver ring, the feel of the smooth metal bringing her comfort. ‘Perhaps it’s just not meant to be, huh, Mama?’

    ‘Anna! What are you doing sitting on the ground?’ Lady Mita stormed in, her deep red cloak billowing behind her. Her hair, much like Anna’s, was pulled back into a bun, and her pretty face was set in a frown as she beheld the pile of still unwashed apparatus that sat upon the wooden table. ‘What in Granville’s name am I going to do with you, girl.’

Anna scurried to her feet and wiped down her skirt. The last thing she needed was to be put on night duty. Again.

    ‘I’m sorry, Lady Mita,” she rushed to the table and grabbed the abandoned rag, dipped it into the now cold bucket of water, and began furiously scrubbing at one of the potion bottles. It smelt of rosemary and what Anna could only describe as sewer water.

    Lady Mita’s frown deepened. ‘Just…get those bottles clean before dinner. And what have I told you about opening the window?’

    ‘I’m sorry, I was warm, and-’

    ‘Oh, do stop your fussing and get on with your work, Anna!’

The older woman made her way over to the window, pulled it shut, and firmly closed the latch, all the while clicking her tongue in annoyance. Anna bit her lip. Don’t say anything, her mind whispered, just…leave it, Anna. Leave it.

    ‘Lady Mita…?’

    ‘What is it now, Anna?’

    Anna licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘I was…just wondering, about the ball tomorrow, for Prince Vashs’ ascension to the throne…’

    ‘What about it?’ Mita slid into her usual spot by the fire place and began poking at the coals with a stick. Why she insisted on doing it the old fashioned way, rather than using the magic Anna knew she had, was beyond her.

    ‘Are Apprentices definitely not allowed to go?’ she asked quietly, keeping her gaze focused on the pile of dirty bottles. There was a stubborn stain on the one she was currently cleaning, and she concentrated on scratching at it with her nail.

    ‘You know they’re not, Anna. Even I am not invited, and I am the Kings’ personal healer. So why in Granville’s name would they invite my apprentice?’

Anna’s stomach dropped in disappointment. If Mita wasn’t invited, she had no chance. She would have to sneak in….

It was a terrible idea. A dangerous idea. If the King found out that she had attended the ball uninvited, he could have imprisoned. Hell, he could have her executed, if he so felt like it.

But she had to meet James’. This was her only chance to get some answers. Her only chance to….

    ‘Anna, dear, if you’re just going to stand there staring into the abyss, you may as well go to your chambers and prepare for this evening.’

    She blinked, her face flushing in embarrassment. ‘No, m’lady, I can have these finished in no time.’

    ‘If you insist, just be sure you are ready by sunset.’

    ‘Ready?’ Anna finished up with the bottle she was cleaning, her fingernails now caked with dirt. She was sure that the other healers made their equipment as filthy as possible, just to spite her. They never had liked her very much.

    Lady Mita glared in her direction. ‘Yes, Anna. For the ceremony; yourself and your brother Alek have been with us for almost six months now, and you are being officially robed as the Princes’ Apprentice Healer, and he as the Castle’s Apprentice Blacksmith.’

    ‘Oh, right,” she replied. How had she forgotten? She was supposed to be meeting Alek by 4pm. She glanced at the clock on the wall – she was already running half an hour behind. At this rate, she would never be ready in time.

    Mita noticed her worried expression and sighed. ‘Go, I’ll finish up here.’

    ‘Are you sure?’ Anna looked at her teacher. She could be the worst person in the Kingdom at times. But at others, she was like the mother Anna missed so much.

    ‘Of course I’m sure, we can’t have you being late to your own ceremony now, can we?’

    Anna grinned, rubbed her hands dry on her skirt, and rushed over to where Mita was still sat by the now roaring fire. ‘Thank you!’

She bent down, kissed the older woman on the cheek, and rushed out of the door.

******

Captain Kingsley James was furious.

He slammed the door to the bridge open, his long coat blowing behind him. To most people, he would look menacing, dangerous. To most people, he was someone to be feared.

To his Quartermaster, he was a joke.

Celeste Burnett was standing in front of the large glass panel that was one of his favourite features of the Revenant, her back to him and her long red hair braided messily at the back of her head.

    ‘Are you insane?’

    ‘Nice to see you too, Kingsley.’ Celeste turned to face her Captain, her brown eyes twinkling in amusement. She was wearing her battle clothes today – a long brown coat, decorated with golden buckles, covered a black shirt cinched in by an intricate breast piece, and her shapely legs were clad in black leggings. Brown boots that reached her knee set off the outfit with a style only she could pull off.

If he hadn’t loved her like a sister, she would have been the most attractive woman he had ever known.

    ‘Don’t give me that look, Celeste,’ he growled, striding to stand beside her. Below, the ocean stretched out for miles, a blanket of crystal blue shimmering in the strong afternoon sun. ‘You know exactly why I’m pissed off.’

    The Quartermaster smiled. ‘I do, do I?’

    ‘You accepted an invitation – an invitation that was addressed to me – on my behalf. And now I find out from Pots that the Revenant has changed course without my say so. Toward Leblahn.’

    ‘Why, so it has.’

Celeste opened her eyes wide, feigning innocence. It was a look he’d seen for years, and it still filled him with just as much dread as it had the first time, when it had resulted in his crew landing on an apparently ‘dormant’ volcano.

He’d lost his favourite coat that day. Not to mention his hair had been singed.

    ‘Celeste, what were you thinking?’ he sighed, feeling defeated. Despite herself, and as much as Kingsley hated to admit it, she usually had an exceptionally intelligent reasoning behind her madness.

Celeste ignored him and turned back to face the window. Her brown eyes scanned the horizon, the sunlight catching the auburn strands of her hair and turning them into a shimmering ruby shade.

    ‘I was thinking that we need to establish ourselves as more than thieves and fighters. We need to be political.’ She paused, watching as a drop of rain fell onto the glass and slid down like a tear drop. ‘I was thinking of what would happen should I die.’

    Kingsley faltered, a lump forming in his throat. ‘Celeste….’

    ‘No, I didn’t have a vision,’ she interrupted, finishing his thought for him. Ever since Kingsley had known her, Celeste had been able to see glimpses of the future. It was one of the things that made her the best Quartermaster he had ever had. But it also, he knew, made her suffer terribly. ‘But I do not need my power to know that things are changing. The King is beginning to fear magic, to fear us.’

    ‘He has always feared us,” Kingsley said, moving to stand behind her. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her like he knew he should, but his arm felt limp and awkward at his side. ‘I don’t see how going into his Kingdom is going to make that change.’

    ‘It has to,” Celeste turned to him, her eyes wide now not with feigned innocence, but with a resigned fear that made Kingsley’s blood run cold. ‘If it doesn’t, we’re doomed.’

As the two stood in silence, watching the ocean stretch out before them, Kingsley knew in his heart that she was right.

******

Alek Briarthorn was just about to remove his shirt when the door to his chambers burst open, and his sister came barreling in, her breathing coming out in ragged gasps.

    ‘Don’t you ever knock?’ he asked, his hands returning to his pockets. He glanced at his pocket watch; 4:45. Not only did his sister never knock, she was never on time, either. ‘You were supposed to be here at 4.’

    ‘I know, I know,’ she gasped, shutting the door behind her and leaning against the oak. Her pale skin was flushed, the freckles on her nose prominent in the lamplight. ‘But I have something really important to tell you. Captain Kingsley James is going to the ball tomorrow night. And I’m going to meet him!’

    The sheer excitement and determination on her face almost made Alek bite his tongue on his next statement. Almost. ‘Anna, Apprentice’s aren’t invited to the ball.’

Anna frowned and made her way over to his bed, which was still un-made after he had slept in that morning and had to rush to the Armoury before Jakub arrived and found out he was late. He was never late, but last night’s dream…

    ‘Don’t you think I know that? I’m going to sneak in,” she smiled, giving him her best ‘you-will-do-as-I-say-because-I’m-your-twin-sister’ face. ‘And you are going to help me.’

    He laughed, whether in actual amusement or in shock, he wasn’t sure. ‘You are absolutely insane, Anna.’

    ‘No, I’m not!’ she stood and came to stand in front of him, her eyes wide in earnest. The flush had gone from her face, and her dark hair, which had mostly come undone from her usual up-do, made her blue eyes look mesmerising. She had their mothers’ eyes, and Alek had never been able to say no to them. ‘I know it’s dangerous-‘

    ‘Dangerous?” he grabbed her by the shoulders and resisted the urge to shake her. ‘Anna, it’s suicidal! Do you know what the King will do to you if he finds out? He’ll have you executed, Anna! He isn’t exactly known for his tolerance.’

    Anna smiled, and the sight of it broke his heart. He knew that smile. Knew that it was a mask for the pain his sister was masking every second of every day. And he knew in that instance that he would do anything for her. ‘If I don’t do this, I’m practically dead anyway.’

He sighed and dropped his hands from her shoulders, suddenly feeling the urge to run and hide like the child he had once been. He knew she was right. Her powers were growing by the day, and she needed answers

    ‘I’ll never get this opportunity again, Alek. I’ve been doing some research, about a land that can only be accessed by Airship, and the Iron Wings are my only chance to get there.’

    Alek paused, ‘and how do you know this place even truly exists, Anna? Reading about it in story books is not solid proof.’

His sister glared, her blue eyes glowing with an intensity he knew all too well. He wasn’t going to talk her out of this one.

    ‘Alright, fine,’ he threw his arms up in his exasperation, his features hardening. ‘What do you need me to do?’

    Anna grinned and said the words he dreaded to hear. ‘I need you to create a distraction.’

******

The room was empty when Prince Vash entered, his most trusted Guard halting outside of the door as it closed behind him. He had been summoned by his father as a matter of urgency, and he knew it could mean only one topic was up for discussion.

Marriage.

Vash’s stomach churned. Tomorrow night, he would ascend the throne and become King Vash Granville of Leblahn, the most influential Kingdom in all of the lands. And he did not have a Queen.

His father sat upon his throne, his short dark hair slicked back and his beard neat and trim. Sometimes Vash wondered if he was truly his father, for he had the blonde hair and green eyes of his Mother, and none of the King’s dark, menacing features, nor his unforgiving temperament.

    ‘Your Majesty,’ he fell to his knee, the floor cold beneath his skin. Oswell always kept it icy cool in his throne room – something Vash would change when he became King.

    ‘Rise, Vash,’ the King spoke, his voice booming and commanding. The young Prince stood, his hair falling into his eyes as he did. Something didn’t feel right about this, he thought, nervously pulling at a piece of lose thread on his sleeve. It was too empty in the throne room, his fathers’ voice too severe.

Could this be about the Air Pirates?

    ‘My son, tomorrow night you will become King,’ said Oswell, standing from his throne. He opened his arms wide, gesturing to the entirety of the stone room. ‘This entire castle, this entire Kingdom, will be yours.’

And you have not managed to secure a woman, blah, blah, blah. Vash resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had heard this speech countless times before, and each time made him feel just as humiliated as the last. He would choose his Queen when he fell in love, and not a second before.

    He cleared his throat. ‘I know, father, but as I have told you time and time before, I am not ready to marry-’

    ‘That is not why I have brought you here,” the King interjected grimly. Vash blinked. If his father did not call for him to discuss a future Queen, then….

    ‘This is about the Air Pirates, then.’

    King Oswell nodded, his expressing grave. ‘Yes, my son, in a way. I have heard many rumours about Captain Kingsley James and the Iron Wings. Many rumours involving the use of forbidden magic; I have invited them to your ball on false pretences.’

    ‘False pretences? Forbidden magic? I don’t understand…’

    ‘You will, soon enough. As my last act of King, I will be outlawing the use of all magic within the Kingdom of Leblahn – and I want Captain James and his crew to be there to witness it. We will see how successful they are without the use of their…talents.’

    Vash licked his suddenly dry lips. ‘But, father, surely they will just leave our Kingdom, and the rule will not apply to them? How does this benefit anybody? What do you have against the Iron Wings?’

    ‘Do not question me, my son,” Oswell glowered, turning back to the throne. Vashs’ heart felt heavy in his chest. ‘You will understand soon enough. I simply called you here to tell you of the beginnings of my plan, and to…give you a simple task.’

The temperature seemed to drop as Vash watched his father take the throne. Yes, something definitely did not feel right about this. Outlawing magic? To what benefit, and to what extent? Would the healers still be able to use potions? The Wise-Men to consult the many scriptures that had aided the Kingdom over the years? His head spun with questions, but he knew to bite his tongue. He would have to find his answers some other way.

    ‘What would you have me do, Your Highness?’

    Oswell smiled. ‘The Iron Wings’ are due to land in Leblahn at sunset this evening; tonight they will arrive in the castle exactly one hour after their arrival. I wish for you to send a guard to follow them, to find out their plans. I have no doubt that they too have their own agenda in accepting my invitation.’

    ‘Very well, father,’ said Vash, bowing. ‘Is there anything else? For if I am to complete this task on time, I shall need to consult with my Captain of the Guard to find the best man for the job,’

    ‘That will be all, Vash.’

The Prince nodded, rose to his feet, and turned toward the exit. Just as his hand grasped the door knob, his father spoke;

    ‘And Vash,’ he said, the tone of his voice making the young prince’s blood run cold. ‘If your man see’s any of them using magic, tell him to report directly to me.’

    Vash nodded. ‘Yes, my liege.’

As the prince left the room and headed to the Barracks, he could not shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

Landing in Leblahn was like descending into Hell.

Kingsley had taken as many precautions as possible to ensure that the Revenant would be safe during his absence. His weapons master, Gideon, had stocked the ships guns with their most powerful ammunition, and Christopher Pots had ensured that all repairs had been made. As the ship touched the grass just outside of the Kingdom’s gates, Kingsley was safe in the knowledge that it had never been in better condition.

That did not, however, stop the whirlwind of doubts going through his mind. The Revenant had been his ship ever since he had put the Iron Wings together. If anything happened to it in this god-forsaken Kingdom…

The door to the control room swung open with a creek, reminding him that he really needed to oil those hinges.

    ‘Evening,’ Sir Christopher Potts strode in, his grey eye tied back in a long ponytail and the scar over his right eye looking more pronounced than ever in the early evening sun. ‘Celeste sent me to tell you that everything is ready for departure.’

    ‘Affirmative,’ Kingsley said, pressing buttons here and there on the control panel. The engine of the ship hummed and then quieted completely. ‘Hold on to your hat, Potts, we’re officially landed in hell.’

    The Surgeon barked a laugh. ‘Leblahn isn’t that bad, Captain! They have excellent ale here, at least.’

    ‘If only it weren’t run by such a tyrant, eh?’ Celeste appeared in the doorway, a smile on her face. It always fascinated – and frustrated – Kingsley that she could remain positive in even the worst of situations. Well, it was her bloody idea to come here, wasn’t it? ‘Are you ready to go, Captain?’

    Kingsley nodded. ‘Yes, have you briefed Gideon?’

    ‘He’s aware of our plans, including our route to the castle, and our expected time of arrival back on the ship two days from now. If anything goes wrong, or if the ship is compromised in anyway, he is to use the auto-flight function Potts installed and circle the Kingdom until our return.’ She grinned then, her pretty face lighting up in amusement. ‘Stop worrying so much, Captain. Everything is under control!’

    ‘Hm,’ he uttered, heading for the door. ‘I know that, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m telling you, I have a bad feeling about all of this.’

    ‘If something bad were going to happen, don’t you think I’d have seen it?’ Celeste asked, standing aside to let him pass. He walked onto the deck of the ship, the cool winters’ air clearing his foggy brain.

    ‘Your visions are unpredictable, Celeste,’ he said, grabbing the pistol Gideon had left out for him. It was his favourite; a double barrel with one hell of a kick. Messy, but effective.

    Celeste placed a hand on his arm, her touch a comforting reminder of her loyalty. ‘I won’t let anything happen to this crew, Kingsley.’

He nodded his response, his eyes scanning the horizon before him. Leblahn. He hadn’t been here since he was a child, and it still looked exactly as he remembered it. The entire Kingdom was made of stone and steel and iron, metals readily available but expensive enough to show off the Granville’s wealth. It made Kingsley sick to his stomach.

The walls of the Kingdom were tall and grand, large enough to keep out intruders. They could have easily docked the Revenant inside of the city, in the castle’s private courtyard (their invitation, Celeste said, had insisted upon it), but Kingsley was not that stupid. If anything went wrong, he wanted the Revenant as far away as possible. If he could not escape, at least his ship would be free.

The sky was darkening now as sunset approached, and Kingsley felt a chill in his bones despite the thick leather trench coat he always wore. It would soon be winter, and snow would be on the ground, making it difficult for the Iron Wings to travel anywhere. He expected to be far away from the Kingdom of Leblahn by the time that happened.

    ‘Let’s get going, then,’ said the Captain, settling his pistol in his belt. Celeste, doing the same with her trusted daggers, nodded in agreement.

    ‘Into the mouth of hell,’ she grinned, and set off for the gates. Gesturing to Potts, Kingsley followed his two crew members to the back of the ship, where the surgeon had already ensured the exit ramp had descended.

The grass was crisp with the onset of winter beneath his feet. Kingsley could have probably enjoyed the low sun in the sky, the cool wind, and the sound of chirping birds, if it weren’t for the fact that he had to enter this city and deal with him.

The three air pirates made their way efficiently to where the stone wall broke in the middle. A large, steel gate made up of particularly unpleasant looking spikes blocked their path. Celeste paused in front of it, raised her chin, and said in a loud voice;

    ‘We are The Iron Wings’,’ she introduced, gesturing dramatically toward himself and Potts. He had to swallow his laughter. No matter the situation, Celeste had style. ‘My name is Celeste Burnett, Quartermaster of the Revenant.’

    Potts stepped forward, his large-rimmed glasses sitting crookedly on his pointed nose. ‘Sir Christopher Potts, Surgeon of the Revenant.’

    ‘And I am Captain Kingsley James,’ Kingsley finished, arms folded over his chest. There was a long pause in which Celeste pulled out one of her daggers and began cleaning the dirt from under her nails. ‘We are here by invitation of King Oswell Granville.’

    ‘That you are.’

The gates slowly opened, revealing the figure of a man clad in the Royal Uniform. Kingsley knew the navy blue colour and gold rimmed decorations like the back of his hand. He had killed many of their kind, once. The guard approached them, stopping just before the gates. He was a broad-shouldered man of average height, with a curled, red mustache that made him look much older than he probably was. His posture was rigid; a sign of an experienced soldier, and Kingsley decided in that instant that he really didn’t like him.

    Despite his dislike, the Captain stepped forward and offered his best smile. ‘Good Evening. I can’t say this is the warmest welcome we have ever received, considering we are guests.’

    The guard glowered. ‘I am here to see you into the city, Captain James, and to escort you and your crew to the Raven Tavern, where King Oswell has secured you a room for the duration of your stay.’ The guard paused, as if just noticing their numbers. ‘I was informed there were four members of your crew, Captain.’

    ‘You were informed correctly,’ Kingsley smiled, ‘however, I thought it unwise to leave my ship unattended to. The King will have to make do with the three of us.’

    The guard smiled tightly. ‘I see. Please, follow me.’

He turned and walked back through the gates, his un-necessarily long cape flowing behind him. Celeste and Potts turned to him, their expressions filled with questions that his own mind was asking. He shook his head. There was no time for this now. They had arrived, and they would have to follow this through.

Noting his dismissal, Celeste and Potts made their way through the gates and after the guard. To passer-byes, they appeared relaxed, but Kingsley knew from their small gestures that they were alert and ready for anything, just as he had trained them to be. Even Potts, who had never been much of a fighter, looked ready to kill someone.

They walked in silence, the sounds of the city overwhelmingly loud around them. Leblahn hadn’t changed much since Kingsleys teens, he noted, glancing at the familiar shop windows and cobblestone paths. He had loved this city, once. It had been a place full of dreams and opportunities, a place where he and his family could live in peace. And then the war had happened. A frown covered his features as the three of them followed the guard around a bend and onto a small side street. It was here, hidden away from the public eye, that Kingsley found signs of the battle. Charred buildings with boarded up windows, blood stained stone that had been left un-washed. A reminder of what had once happened – and of what could happen again.

Kingsley felt sick. Coming here had been a mistake.

Just as he was about to grab Celeste’s attention, they rounded another bend. This part of the city, he thought, was definitely new. A dock. A dock with…ships. Ocean-based ships had not been used in over eight decades, since the Grand Mages had discovered a way to make them air-born using a mix of magic and electricity. If Leblahn was bringing them back, then that had to mean….

He shared a silent look with his Quartermaster, who was clearly having the same thought process. He shook his head, we’ll talk about it later, he hoped he translated. Celeste seemed to understand, because she simply shrugged her shoulders and continued on after the guard. Potts, however, had stopped in front of the canal-side, his posture stiff. Kingsley grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him away; Potts was new at this and he did not know the things that himself and Celeste did. If he started asking questions out in the open, it could get them all killed.

    ‘Later,’ he whispered to his Surgeon, pushing him forward. Potts nodded his head, his glasses sliding down his nose. He may not have understood what was going on, but at least Kingsley could count on him to follow orders.

After a few more minutes of walking, in which Kingsley had to deal with trying not to murder the slimy old men who lingered too long at Celeste, they arrived outside of an extravagant looking Inn. Made of stone like all of the city’s buildings, it had to have been four stories high. A wooden sign hung above the doorway; The Raven Tavern and Inn.

    The guard stopped outside of the door. ‘Here we are, Captain. Check in at the desk, Raven is expecting you. She’ll show you to your room, but you won’t have much time to settle in, I’m afraid. I’ll be along within the hour to escort you to the Castle, where you are to meet with King Oswell and Prince Vash.’

    ‘I’m sure we can ‘escort’ ourselves,’ Kingsley frowned at the guard, resisting the urge to punch him in his smug face. ‘We’re rather good at navigating, being pirates and all.’

    ‘Even so, Captain, the King insists I escort you and your crew personally. I will expect to meet you here in one hours’ time; if you have time after you have checked into your room, feel free to explore the surrounding area. But do not be late. The King does not tolerate lateness.’

    ‘I bet he doesn’t,’ Kingsley said, brushing past the guard. Celeste and Potts followed him quickly inside.

He didn’t wait to hear the guards next words before he slammed the door shut in his face.

******

The Temple was aglow with the most beautiful candlelight Anna had ever seen.

She knelt beside her brother, her heart beating loudly in her chest. She was sure that he could hear it in the silence, and if he had been allowed, he would have reached out to take her hand.

All around them the candles burned. Tall ones, short ones, thick ones and thin ones in a variety of colours and shades. They cast a warming glow across the marble floor, their flames flickering in the soft evening breeze. Anna thought the entire thing was beautiful. She was wearing a white robe that had been laid out for her by Lady Mita, and a simple white and blue head-dress covered her dark hair. The fabric was itchy, and she longed to be back in her tunic and leggings, but she knew that it was an essential part of the ritual. White was the colour of the healers.

Alek sat beside her, his tall, lean body clad in a similar attire. His colour was a dark grey, the colour of steel. It represented the armour and the weapons that the King and his Royal Guard used. The kind of armour and weapons that Alek would be making for the rest of his life.

She smiled at him. This wasn’t the life he had wanted, but he would not allow Anna to go to the castle and live out her days there without him. She needed him; he had said those words the night before they left their fathers’ house out in the city, she needed him and he needed her, and that was all there was to it. They were twins - bonded for life. Plus, he’d said with a cheeky smile, the pay wasn’t half bad, either.

Anna, however, had always wanted to be a Healer. Had dreamed of this moment her entire life; it was her gift, to take away others pain. And also her curse.

    Lady Mita stepped forward, clad in the extravagant robes of a High Priestess. ‘We do not normally do this ritual with two people,’ she said, her eyes glimmering in the candlelight, ‘however, as the two of you began your journeys’ at the same time, it seemed logical that you do this together.’

From the shadows, a tall, broad-shouldered man appeared. He would have been handsome in his youth, Anna noted, taking in his ragged appearance and scared face. This must be Jakub, she thought, Alek’s mentor, the Blacksmith. She realised she had never met him before, and wondered if Alek felt the same way about Mita. She spent a lot of her free time with her brother, but they never seemed to talk about their work.

    ‘Anna Briarthorn,’ Lady Mita said, holding out a long, double-edged bladed dagger. ‘Will you take this Athame and share your blood with the Gods and Goddesses, so that they may give you their blessings and guide you on your journey to come?’

    With shaking hands, Anna took the blade from her mentors grasp and tried to remember her words. ‘With my blood, I swear to serve the Kingdom of Leblahn for as long as I live. To heal the sick and the wounded, and to help those who cannot help themselves.’ She held the Athame to the palm of her hand, and with a sharp intake of breath, pulled the blade across the skin. Blood swelled to the surface. ‘I, Anna Briarthorn, give my life to the craft of Healing.’

Lady Mita nodded, took the Athame from her, and handed it to Jakub. Her palm stung, but she felt calm, at peace. If she failed tomorrow night, all of this would be gone….all of this comfort, familiarity, safety.

But for how long can this last if you stay?

    Jakub approached her brother, whose face was set in the most serious expression she had ever seen on him. ‘Alek Briarthorn,’ he said, his voice rough, ‘Will you take this Athame and share your blood with the Gods and Goddesses, so that they may give you their blessings and guide you on your journey to come?’

    Alek, mimicking her earlier actions, took the blade from his mentor and pressed it to his palm. ‘With my blood, I swear to serve the Kingdom of Leblahn for as long as I live. To craft and forge the weapons that will serve the Royals’ for decades to come. To shield our King and his followers with armour, so that they may prevail.’ He paused, moved the blade in a downwards motion, and Anna watched as the blood pooled in his palm. They would have matching scars, she thought.

    ‘I, Alek Briarthorn, give my life to the craft of Forgery.’

    ‘So it is done.’ Mita quoted, bowing her head in respect, ‘you may now rise. Congratulations, Anna, Alek. You are officially members of the Court, and have sworn your loyalty to the Granville family and the Kingdom of Leblahn.’

Anna rose to her feet alongside her brother, taking the bandage offered to her by Mita. She wrapped it around her palm, stemming the bleeding and providing instant relief to the slight sting that had spread throughout her hand. Mita must have put one of her healing balms on it.

    ‘You may leave now, and celebrate with your brother and father,’ Lady Mita gestured to the door. ‘You are free tomorrow to spend your day as you please, but you will return at sunrise the day following to begin your new duties.’

The twins nodded in unison, turned on their heels, and exited the temple.

******

By the time Celeste had checked them in to their room, Kingsley was exhausted.

Raven was a lovely old woman with a kind face, who explained that they could come and go from the Inn at any time. Drinks were on the house, and if they got hungry she would have her husband rustle something up for them. A kind woman indeed; too gentle-hearted for the likes of this god-forsaken city, he thought.

The room itself was nothing special. Three single beds, covered over with plain cream-coloured sheets, took up the majority of the small space. There was a window that overlooked the docks – a fact Kingsley felt was not un-deliberate – and a scratched-up desk in the corner, next to a wash basin. Not exactly luxury, but they were pirates. This was a step up from some of the places they had stayed in over their years of exploring.

Celeste stood with Potts by the window as Kingsley checked the room for anything suspicious. His Quartermaster was speaking in a hushed voice, the kind she used when she was trying not to involve him. At the beginning, it had infuriated him to no end. Now, he simply accepted that some things he just did not need to know.

He glanced at his pocket watch. They were, however, running out of time before they were due to be ‘escorted’ to meet the King and his Royal brat.

    ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he said, perching on the edge of the desk. The wood groaned beneath his weight. ‘We have half an hour before that irritating guard comes to get us. I don’t know about the two of you, but I could do with a drink before then.’

    Celeste smiled. ‘That sounds like a wonderful plan, Captain! Shall we head downstairs?’

    ‘No,’ he shook his head, ‘I have a feeling that anything we do or say here will be noted. Let’s find somewhere near-by, where we don’t have to be on our best behaviour, eh?’

    ‘Music to my ears,’ said Potts, adjusting his glasses. He had taken off the thick-rimmed things that he so often wore and replaced them with a more delicate, intelligent appearing pair. Why had had two different sets had always confused Kingsley, but he had never quite gotten up the courage to ask. Potts was an unusual sort of bloke, and he liked him that way.

After a quick weapons check, the three pirates left their room. Kingsley locked the door behind them, although he doubted it would do any good. If the King wanted to search their room, a locked door certainly wouldn’t stop him. He probably had a master key for every lock in the entire city. The bastard.

Their room was situated on the second floor, and it didn’t take long for the three of them to reach the Tavern area. Raven was chatting animatedly to an elderly looking fellow at the bar, her arms gesturing about wildly. Kingsley couldn’t help but feel like she was looking the other way on purpose. Perhaps the Kings’ followers weren’t quite as loyal as he thought. Kingsley smirked and, dodging the drunk patrons of the Raven Tavern, made his way to the exit.

Outside, the sky was a beautiful orange colour, indicating the onset of sundown. They didn’t have long, but he was sure they could find another tavern relatively close by. He would be damned if he stayed another minute longer than he had to in a place the King had put them up. Still, at least they weren’t being forced to stay in the castle; anyone else would have taken it as a smack in the face, an insult to their trust. Kingsley found it rather flattering. If the King didn’t trust him and the Iron Wings, then he was wise.

He knew he was being childish. He had his reasons for disliking the King, and they were his own.

    Potts stopped after a few minutes of walking. ‘How about here?’ he indicated to a grotty old whole in the wall. The sign read ‘Old Moon Inn’, and Kingsley grimaced. It didn’t look particularly sanitary, but then again, at least they weren’t like to run into any of the Kings’ men in here.

    ‘As long as they serve ale, it’ll do just fine,’ he smiled, about to follow Potts inside. He paused at the sound of gravel crunching underneath a heavy boot, his hand instantly going to his pistol. Almost as if in synchronization, Celeste pulled out her daggers and Potts, his weapon of choice a sniper rifle, merely adjusted his glasses and allowed his comrades to prepare their defence. He was a tactician, and random encounters on the street weren’t his forte.

    ‘Whoever is following us, it’s wise for you to come out now, before I get really angry.’

There was a few seconds of silence before Kingsley grinned, tilted his head toward the alley beside the Old Moon, and allowed Celeste to take the lead. Normally, he’d have gone in first, but he could sense her need for some excitement. It had been a slow month, and the violence helped her control the visions.

The alleyway was cold and dark and made of stone like everything else in this bloody city. Celeste moved gracefully, like an exotic cat stalking its prey. He had always admired the way she fought; he liked things messy and obvious, and she made killing look like a beautiful art form. Potts took up the rear, keeping his hand in his pocket, and Kingsley wasn’t sure he wanted to know what sort of device he had in there. It was most likely explosive, especially if Gideon had made it.

In the corner of the alleyway, hidden behind a large bin, was a young Guard.

Celeste gripped him from behind and dragged him out by his hair, her dagger pressed against the skin of his neck. She wasn’t pressing hard enough to draw blood, but merely just the gesture was enough to make the kid soil his trousers. Kingsley scoffed. Was this really the type of person that King Oswell employed? The guy was a menace, but he was no leader.

    ‘Well, well,’ Kingsley smiled, taking the safety off of his gun. ‘Who do we have here, then? One of Granville’s finest, eh?’

    ‘Oh Kingsley, don’t be an arse,’ Celeste rolled her eyes, removing the dagger from his neck and surveying his wet pants with pity. ‘Gods, you can’t be any older than what, fifteen?’

The boy was silent, shaking in fear, and Kingsley had to resist the urge to shove him into the wall and make him talk. It would do no good. The kid was clearly terrified as it was, and Kingsley wasn’t exactly the reassuring type. He’d let Celeste handle this one, he decided, watching the way the young kid stared at his Quartermaster with admiration. She had that sort of face, the kind that made you want to spill your deepest darkest secrets in the hopes that she would care.

If only he knew just how savage she could be.

    ‘Look, we’re not going to hurt you,’ she said in a hushed voice, smiling gently. ‘We just want to know why you’re following us, alright? Tell us that, promise to tell whoever sent you that nothing happened, and we’ll forget we even found you following us.’

    ‘Or, alternatively, you stay quiet and I slit your throat.’

    ‘Kingsley!’ Celeste scolded, shooting him an angry glare. He knew on some level she honestly felt for the kid, and he supposed he did, too. He was just following orders, and he was so young. The likelihood was he had no idea what kind of a tyrant he was working for. ‘We’re not going to do that. I’m Celeste, by the way; what’s your name, sweetheart?’

    ‘S-sam,’ he mumbled, his voice high and squeaky. Gods, how young was this poor sod? ‘M-my name is S-sam.'

    ‘Alright, Sam, I’ll make this easy for you; do you work for the King? You can just nod.’ Hesitantly, Sam nodded, his shaking subsiding ever so slightly. Kingsley glanced down at his pocket watch; they had ten minutes. So much for that drink, he sighed. ‘And did he send you to follow us? Can you tell me what he said?’

    ‘I…I can’t, if he finds out, he’ll k-kill me,’ said the young boy, tears springing to his eyes.

    Celeste placed a hand on the boys’ shoulder and he stared at her with wide, fearful eyes. ‘We won’t let that happen, Sam. He will never find out that this happened, I can promise you that. You can tell him that we entered this Tavern; we had one drink, played a very quick game of cards, and returned to the Raven. Nothing to report; he can’t blame you for that, now, can he?’ she smiled.

    ‘I s-suppose not,’ said the boy, glancing at Kingsley at Potts, who stood quietly at the end of the alleyway, keeping watch. ‘He sent me to s-see if you did anything unusual, to…t-to see which of y-you had m-magic…’

    Celeste froze. ‘Magic?’

    ‘Y-yes. He’s planning on b-banning its use, and he wanted to know w-which of you could use it. He didn’t s-say why.’

    ‘Oh, I know why,’ Kingsley said, his expression darkening. ‘Get out of here, and speak of this to no-one. You’ll tell the King exactly what my Quartermaster told you to tell him, or he won’t be the one you have to worry about. Understand?’

The boy nodded, allowed Celeste to kiss him on the cheek in thanks, and scurried off down the alleyway to disappear into the streets.

    ‘Kingsley,’ Celeste whispered, all façade of strength gone from her expression. ‘If the King is planning on banning magic…what is he going to do to the people he finds out can’t control their use of it? The people who were born with it…?’

    Kingsley looked up at the sky, the memories swallowing him up like a tidal wave of pain. ‘He’s going to kill us all.’