Sif quick-stepped up the spiral stairs to her room, past the main hall. For the first few weeks, the climb had winded her. Now she barely noticed. She grabbed a pair of books, stacked on the end of her bed, … Continue reading
Sif blinked. The answer seemed self-evident to her, which in her recent experience meant she was thinking about the wrong question. She was cold because it was cold—she was surrounded by cold air. Not as cold as it could be, … Continue reading
They moved on to other topics as they ate. Einar Goransson was the son of a caravaner from the central plains, and had grown up on the roads, tenuous tracks carved from the wilderness, which linked the far-flung cities of … Continue reading
“That isn’t as interesting,” Sif said, waving dismissively. “Tell me about Einar.” Lilja shook her head. “There’s nothing to tell. We’re friends.” “I don’t—” Sif craned her neck to look past Lilja. “There he is now. Einar! Einar Goransson!” Lilja … Continue reading
For the next three hours, Sif managed to keep her mind from wandering. Leifsson reviewed another dozen cumulation forms, then taught two dozen more, along with a half-dozen new zephyrs. He dismissed them in the early evening, instructing them to … Continue reading
Like all the guilds, the Akademi der Luftsmagiker took most of its students at a young age—Sif was twice as old as most new aspirants. Yet it was not unheard of for older children, nearer Sif’s age, to show a … Continue reading
Sif sat at a table at the periphery of the Akademi der Luftsmagiker’s main hall, a round room filling the whole width of the tower. The wind howled outside, and through the panes of the nearest window, Sif saw snowflakes … Continue reading
Le Syndicat was technically a bar, though Cannon was loathe to assign it even the tiny amount of dignity befitting that word. It was a dimly-lit dump, done no favors by the choice to furnish in dark wood. Half of … Continue reading
Three days later, Inconstant swung against her mooring lines in the countryside near Hanoi, east of the river which itself was east of the city. Hanoi was a better zeppelin port than most cities around the rim of the East … Continue reading
In one smooth motion, Cannon kicked Kopeikin’s pistol out the hatch and picked up his belt. The pistol skipped off the decking, clanked against one of the railing’s poles, and fell into the growing gloom below. Cannon dashed behind the … Continue reading
