Beyond the Endless Sky

Chapter 19

The ship cut through a wisp of mist, which left water running in tiny lines across the window as the wind wiped the glass clean again. A second wave struck the window, then a third, and an eerie hush fell over the ship. As if the thick white air was muffling the sound of the propellers.

"We're in the Ruins now," Tonya said. Clarissa could see the older woman was fingering one of the ribbons holding back her hair, a long blue strip of cloth with a number one stitched in gold thread. "Never run the Ruins as a race, but that's only because they don't run a course through here."

"But why would you fly through this, especially if it wasn't a race?" Clarissa asked.

"To prove it could be done. I'd heard rumours some smugglers were hiding caches of deadgrass here. I wanted to prove that they could. And prove I was good enough to take someone else's slip in the Shardwall," Tonya said, as she steered the ship directly into the sweeping currents, following the thin streams of moving white mist they could see.

Surprisingly, Tonya was staring carefully at the ball floating beside her head as she flew, her eyes focused on the liquid inside. "Nothing big nearby, no reason to play with our orientation," Tonya murmured to herself, barely loud enough for Clarissa to hear. "Something up ahead, and it has to be big. Nothing close enough otherwise."

The mist was thick enough that Clarissa didn't even know how far into it she could see. Everything was now just swirling white. But Tonya looked unperturbed, and didn't even slow the ship down any more than when they first entered the Ruins.

"Reminds me of when that typhoon swept through the Shardwall during the Raer Bowl," Tonya said. Clarissa could see the pilot wasn't actually looking at her, but was busy glancing from one nearby dial to another. "Couldn't see past the water on your goggles, had to navigate through the way the wind felt on your face. Not my favourite race, not by a long shot. But my last one."

"Your last race? Why did you stop?" Clarissa asked, partially to distract herself from her worries.

"I got what I needed. A purse large enough to win the race I'd always been running," Tonya said to Clarissa. She turned to the speaking tube and spoke again. "Captain, I could use some smoke. Straight ahead."

A moment later, a small canister came whistling into view, billowing a stream of bright orange smoke. The canister was swept along by the winds, and a few moments later it — and the smoke it spat — were lost in the mist.

"Good," Tonya said quietly. "Nothing ahead for a bit. Just hold steady. Something will tell me when it's time to turn."

They drifted into what looked like a sea of white, and water ran in streams along the domed window at the bow. To Clarissa, only the hum of the propellers told her they were moving forward. She fidgeted nervously and tried to recall the last thing Tonya had said to her. "You mean you won enough money on your last race?" Clarissa asked. "What did you need the money for?"

"You're a monastery kid," Tonya said in reply. "Have you ever worked at one of the floating farms?"

"The tiny isles near the Core," Clarissa recalled. "We all do."

"That might be a shift," Tonya muttered, still staring at the window. She glanced back at Clarissa for a moment, and asked, "Did you ever meet a man at the Ferella Ranch by the name of Effran Hughes?"

"Effran? He tells the best stories. He made that place my favourite work assignment. He'd bake these cookies, they were always amazing, and he'd tell us stories about the wonderful places around the endless sky. It's so sad, whatever happened to his wife," Clarissa blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush.