Page 71 of Sea of Stars

Herovinci made the required adjustments until it looked like their course would take them in one of the few paths not occupied by mountains or the thickest clouds. They would still have to contend with some clouds and the possibility of being annihilated by a stray lightning strike, but it was the best they could do.

"How is there so much lightning?" asked Enzo. "Imagine if we could harness that..."

"It's incredible, isn't it? We travel two hours past the supposed end of the world and already we've encountered something that could change the course of history. The Christo will need extensive repairs. We'll need to dock nearby to investigate the cause of the lightning while we get her back to full strength."

"There's no way we can repair the Christo with the tools we have on board."

"I know that," said Herovinci. "But the crew doesn't have to. At the very least it'll buy us a few days before we have to declare it a loss and move on."

The thunder accompanying the constant lightning strikes made it impossible to continue their conversation as they approached the storm.

Herovinci searched for something he should say to his brother in case they didn't make it through the storm. He could have easily conjured an equation or theory - he already had a handful of ideas about the source of the lightning - but when it came to saying something sentimental, his brain failed him.

"Good luck," he muttered as he tightened the rope securing his hand to the wheel.

The wind swirled around the ship. Lightning lit up the sky. Judging by the immediate, deafening thunderclap, the storm was no more than a few hundred yards beyond them.

The next lightning strike was even louder. And the explosion of the flammable gas inside the balloon of the Christo was louder still. Herovinci watched in horror as one third of his fleet was obliterated into a million wooden shards. A plank flew by, inches from his face. A smaller piece of shrapnel caught him in the arm. He fell to his knees in pain, and as he did, his hand still tied to the wheel caused the ship to bank hard to the right. The ship rolled. Sailors skidded across the slick deck. Two of them were unable to stop their slide and went tumbling over the railings.

Enzo helped Herovinci to his feet and steadied the wheel, but the damage was already done. Their course had been altered.

"What now?" asked Enzo.

Herovinci didn't immediately have an answer. His mind was stuck in a storm all of its own. The entire crew of the Christo, 22 men, all dead. Three more from his own ship. And who knew how many from the Eliza had perished. Was it real? He wanted to believe it wasn't. He wanted to believe that any minute he'd wake up in the west wing of the University of Techence. He'd go downstairs and eat a big breakfast and then start working on something completely unrelated to airships. His vision blurred and an invisible quill dipped in liquid lightning hastily wrote an array of equations on top of the raging storm. He started to connect the lights below into sketches, like an astronomer drawing constellations in the stars.

Wait...lights below?

Herovinci snapped back to reality and his vision sharpened.

"Are there lights down there?" he asked Enzo.

Enzo looked over the edge of the ship. "It's probably just burning shrapnel."

As Herovinci tried to focus on the lights, he thought he saw a lightning bolt originate on the mountain and shoot toward the Eliza. It narrowly missed. Then it happened again, and this time, it didn't miss. It tore through the rigging holding the hull to the balloon. The hull swung down and hung vertically for a moment before the last rope snapped. The balloon floated away into the st

orm as the hull plummeted to the mountaintop.

"Watch out!" yelled Enzo. He grabbed the wheel and pulled it hard. Yet again, the ship rolled to the right. A bolt of lightning streaking through the sky missed their balloon by a few feet. The thunder left a horrible ringing in Herovinci's ears.

Maybe he wasn't thinking straight from the pain. Or the constant thunder. Or the lack of air. But it seemed like something was targeting them. Even if there was a perfectly logical explanation for it, it was still clear to Herovinci that his airship was a giant floating target for the lightning. Turning around might be too much for the ship to handle, but the chances of being struck by lightning seemed to be quickly approaching 100%.

"Hold on!" he shouted and spun the wheel. More lightning streaked by them.

Enzo must not have heard him, because he was caught unaware by the sudden change in course. He lost his balance and went sliding towards the railing.

Herovinci reached for him, but his hand was still tied to the wheel. Reaching only made the ship roll more. Enzo toppled over the edge.

"No!" yelled Herovinci. Another bolt crashed by the ship. He started to feel lightheaded again. The blood loss from his arm and the thin air were too much. His eyesight started to blur. The ringing in his ears intensified. It almost sounded like birds screeching.

He clumsily pulled out a knife and cut the rope holding his hand to the wheel. As he tried to stumble towards the edge to see if Enzo had grabbed onto something, he tripped on a loose plank and fell. Just as he lost consciousness, he thought he saw the silhouette of a winged man carrying Enzo in its talons.

Be Careful What You Joust For - Chapter 1

Isolda

Isolda's father once told her that any respectable tournament would feature at least three deaths. Such events were dangerous affairs. A lance could catch a knight in just the wrong spot and find its way through his armor, or a man might take a moment too long to yield in the hand to hand combat. The competitors weren't the only ones in danger, though. Brawls in the stands could often turn deadly. And sometimes people gambled more than they could afford, forcing the debt collectors to take their payment in flesh rather than coin.

Isolda knew that the upcoming tournament would be no exception to the rule of three deaths. It was to be the biggest tournament Treland had ever seen. Bigger arena, more knights, more spectators, and definitely higher stakes. There were even whispers that this tournament was the one foretold in the Prophecy of Arwin. Surely there would be at least three deaths. But who?

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