To take his mind away from disquieting thoughts, he checked the double-barrel revolver his uncle had given him days before the voyage on the airship had been booked. "It's a dangerous world, nephew," the older man had said on handing it over. "The City of Night is more dangerous than most, but these captains of the air cannot always be trusted either. I'll try to find a reliable one for the job. In any case, you'll have to defend yourself should the need arise, which it might on this mission. A dagger is fine for show, but never bring a knife to a gun fight."
Zared had felt his insides turn to liquid at the thought of violence to his person. "Is there any likelihood of that, uncle?" he'd quavered.
"Of course, there is!" Erasmus had looked at him with disgust. "Wake up, boy!" He'd gestured to the pistol. "Go somewhere discrete and practice. Gain what proficiency you can in the time you have. Your life might depend on it."
Zared had practiced to a point where he'd become proficient with the weapon. His hand still hurt from the bruising inflicted by the vicious recoil.
Sitting on the bunk he broke the revolver open to examine the components and to ensure the ammunition was free of faults or corrosion. The weapon held seven rounds in a drum-shaped chamber that fired through the main rifled barrel. A smooth-bore barrel under the main held a small shotgun cartridge fired by a separate trigger located behind the first. Zared closed and hefted the weapon, knowing he held the lives of eight people in his hand — possibly more should the shotgun spread catch others close by. It gave him a feeling of unaccustomed power.
A knock sounded on the panel by the curtain, breaking his reverie. Zared pushed the revolver under the pillow on his bunk, straightened his robe and pushed the curtain aside.
Conner the steward stood in the passageway. He sketched a salute. "Cap'n's compliments, sir and she asks if you'll join her in the lounge for dinner."
The steward's grin showed he was well aware that calling the tiny cubbyhole a lounge stretched belief beyond breaking point. Zared gave Conner an uncertain smile in return while considering the state of his stomach. It felt hollow but whether from his fear of flying or hunger, he couldn't decide. He erred on the side of hunger. "Thank you."
Conner nodded and headed off up the passageway toward the front of the gondola. Zared followed. Through some trick of acoustics, the sound of the engines seemed louder here than in the cabin. Conner led him to a doorway at the end of the passageway and gestured for Zared to enter.
He stepped into the lounge, a compartment only three times the size of his cabin with a battered table surrounded by mismatched folding chairs. Zared looked at the worn linen cloth and pretense at silverware. Compared to the dining table in his uncle's house it looked poor indeed, but Zared figured it the best the Oculus Nightingale could offer. He felt pleased to see the shutters on the windows to either side were closed against the night outside.
A sliding door directly opposite let onto the flight deck. Small electric lamps in wire cages lit the room, and he could see small paintings of people and places on the honey-colored wood paneling on the wall. A brass and leather parrot swiveled its head to look at him. He frowned at it, remembering his uncle had spoken of such a contraption.
"Zared, I'm glad you could join me."
He started, not realizing Captain Adena sat at the end of the table.
She rose to give him a formal bow, her cafe-au-lait skin, chestnut hair and dark leather clothing blending in with the general décor. Her choice of clothing bothered him. Used as he was to the covered-up womenfolk of his own extended family, the captain's low-cut halter bodice disturbed him in ways he didn't like to dwell upon. It exposed a good deal of her flat, trim midriff, which displayed a colorful serpentine tattoo and pierced navel. A small jewel twinkled in the little puckered depression. Her full breasts were pushed up by the bodice and were only partly confined by leather cups.
Swallowing, he advanced into the room and returned her bow, wondering if her choice of clothing for the occasion was a deliberate attempt to throw him off balance. "Thank you for your invitation, Captain."
"Please take a seat. Conner will serve us." As they sat, she continued in the same affable manner. "I'm sorry it's taken a while to get dinner ready. The first hour or so out from port is always a trying time for officers and crew."
"In what way?" he asked, his constant nub of anxiety growing inside. "Is there something wrong?"
She smiled. "Oh, nothing's wrong. It's the usual little annoyances that appear when a ship sets out on a voyage. We'll get you there and back safely, don't worry."
He relaxed a little. "I'm pleased to hear it." He looked around and thought of something to say to compliment her. "This is a comfortable room."
"It's a poor place compared to some, but I like it."
Zared wondered then if she'd picked up his mild contempt for the poverty on display, but Conner entered with the first course then and he put the thought aside. "How long will our voyage take, Captain? My uncle was vague."
"If the winds hold fair and we meet no trouble, it should take no more than three days there and a bit quicker on our return leg."
Zared cocked his head. "Our return will be faster?"
"Yes, of course." When he still looked at her mystified, the captain seemed to suppress a sigh. "The tailwind will help us. It blows constantly from dark side to day side, sometimes at a high rate of knots."
"Fascinating." Zared realized he'd begun to relax. "I confess the thought of flying, of
