Thistle in the Sky | #NONC2022 | ✔

Chapter Two

Swords flashed as Farah burst out onto the Ariomma's pivoting gangway. Rather than skid to a stop, she lunged for the Nectamia's first mate with the full momentum of her arrival. The woman's intention to turn and strike crossed her mind. Farah ducked the glinting blade. She spun on her heel and came up behind the woman, knife at her throat.

"Drop the blade," she snarled. Her voice plunged for its natural register. The sword hit the deck. Before anyone else could react, Farah ducked away and grabbed Kazem, dragging him back towards the airship as shouts and footsteps shook the gangway. The chains linking it to the Nectamia's rattled fiercely. Then the silence of the airship swallowed them both. Farah nearly slammed the door behind her, but that would lock the rest of the crew outside. Little as she cared about them, she could not sail this ship alone.

"Farah—" squeaked Kazem.

"This is why you don't volunteer to talk to enemies, you sun-baked idiot."

Farah made for the staircase, one hand still locked around her brother's wrist. Nobody followed them. She dragged Kazem through both decks to the crew's quarters—the only part of the ship other than the galley that could lock from inside—and propelled him through the doorway as he resisted. She slammed the door and locked it behind them.

Kaz was breathing hard from the escape. When he finally looked up, a shock ran through Farah's body. He was glaring at her.

"What was that for?" he demanded.

Farah stared at him, unwilling to believe he could be so dense. "What? What? Someone draws a sword right beside you, intending harm for this entire crew because they think we're all sparrow-dung, and you ask me why I came for you? That was about to be a fight, Kaz."

"She pulled her sword because Esfandiar wouldn't stop ogling at her navigator! If you'd stopped and listened—"

"I was listening to the whole thing."

"—and gave her two seconds of benefit of the doubt instead of assuming everyone wanted to kill us—" He broke off, almost incoherent with frustration. "Jhaṛa had it under control. She was about to send Esfandiar back to the ship. And then you barged in there with a knife, threatened their first mate, and dragged off one of the people in the party we sent. I was talking with them. They liked me."

"What, as in they might have spared you while they slaughtered everyone else?"

"That wasn't an attack!"

"Then why did they all have blades out?"

"It was a misunderstanding."

"Was it?" Farah's voice leaped up half an octave. "Was it? Or was I right when I heard from that friendly first mate of yours that she didn't give a rat's tail whether any of us lived or died? You were 'talking' with a shipload of Colony snobs who thought we were their culprits and put the burden on our captain to prove otherwise—and they weren't about to believe us."

"They said they did. They were about to leave."

"Not after planting a tracker on the Ariomma while you were all distracted by those oh-so-shiny blades."

It was Kazem's turn to step back, stunned. "What do you mean?"

The vindication of being right seethed through Farah as potently as her anger. "Exactly what I'm saying. The mechanic had it. And I'll bet Jhaṛa didn't even notice."

Silence fell, save for both of their heavy breathing.

"Didn't she send you up onto the envelope?" said Kazem. "I thought that was out of your range."