The Tumbler's Fall

[sunspot]

The sun was rising over the walls around the city, lighting up the rooftops and making all the tiled ones shine like everything was on fire. It was just another beautiful sight that Sophie had never noticed before. She'd seen so many sunrises and sunsets from inside the city walls, but she'd never really considered how lovely it was.

It took sitting alone in the prison tower, waiting for her sentence to be handed down, for her to really appreciate it.

"Highness?"

The voice at the cell door was timid. Sophie rose and turned, sweeping her skirt out behind her. It was dirty and ragged from weeks of wear in the tower, but the regal blue still shone through the grime.

"I am ready," she said. She walked between the two guards in shackles, her head held high. If it was her death that the king had ordered, then she would go with dignity and he would not get the satisfaction of seeing her defeated.

The red robed judge sat on the small platform in front of the much bigger dais where the king sat, slouched in his throne, looking as bored as he ever did.

Sophie glanced at him, but he was staring at some point far above her head. She felt a roiling hatred building up inside of her, sudden and strong, mostly directed at the king, but some of it splashing back at herself. She couldn't believe she'd ever let him touch her, that she had ever thought she could fall for him.

"Princess Sophie Devereaux of Westham," the judge started, once the tide of people flooding into the throne room had ebbed and quieted. The use of her former title was probably meant to hurt her, but it was what she had been privately thinking of herself as since this whole mess started. Queen no longer, only a Princess. She glanced up at Nate again and he had the smallest smile on his face. Damn him.

"You stand accused of treason against the king, and the kingdom and people of Cambral. We, the people, have found you guilty of all crimes and precedent dictates you be put to death in traditional custom -- by boiling in oil until dead." The judge finished with a flourish of his papers and stared right down at her with so much smugness in his eyes.

Sophie let out a sigh she hadn't know she was holding back. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced them away.

There was a commotion all around, murmurs and exclamations and the occasional bit of laughter. Sophie saw faces she recognized, people she'd spent the last year getting to know. Some of them she'd even called friends, now sitting in the throne room, laughing and gossiping about her fate before she was even gone. She sat down heavily, the hard wood of the bench supporting her better than her own legs could.

She looked at her hands, waiting to hear when her grisly death would be carried out. Sophie knew if she risked another look around the room, she'd start to cry, or worse.

The room around her quieted finally, and the judge cleared his throat to go on. She balled her fists in her lap and held her breath again.

Just as the judge started to talk, there was a loud collective gasp from the people behind her. Even the guard next to her was on his feet. She looked up, not sure she even wanted to know what was happening.

The king was descending from his throne and clapping the judge on the shoulder. He waved the noise of the crowd away with a charming smile. Sophie was quickly realizing just how much hate she was capable of harbouring.

"I am not a cruel man," he said, and Sophie felt like her insides were tying themselves into knots. "And I'm not overly nostalgic for the good old days of Cambral when everyone and their mother was boiled in oil. Sophie, my queen, please stand."

She didn't want to, but the guard on her right jabbed her sharply in the ribs with the handle of his halberd. She stood, wishing to be boiled in oil immediately and thereby saved whatever new set of disgusting lies Nate had come up with this time.

"There is no doubt in my mind what you did was treason, my lady, but I don't believe you did it to hurt me, or my kingdom. I think the biggest problem is just that you're too young and naive to know the political difference between right and wrong --"

Sophie imagined a rain of knives falling, killing everyone in the room, and had to bite her tongue to keep from smiling at how dark her time in the palace prison had made her.

"And this is why it is my decision that you should not be put to death."

The noise from the gathered audience was even louder than it had been when she had been sentenced.

"But, Sire," the judge spluttered, his powdered wig dancing on his head. "Sire, I really must protest."

"And are you the king?" Sophie could see the king's fingers digging into the man's shoulder. That was something she was familiar with, and even though she had nothing but contempt for the judge, she had been on receiving end of that grip before and it wasn't pleasant.

The judge shut his mouth with a grimace.

"Queen Sophie. For your crimes against the kingdom, you are forever banished from its borders."

Banishment. Banishment!

She hadn't even considered banishment, not since the word treason had begun being whispered, probably because no one had been publically banished in the Free World since the Gory Revolution. If a king had someone banished, that person had a tendency to reappear again a few years later and cut him to ribbons.

Sophie didn't want to kill anyone, though. She just wanted to get back home to her brother's neighbouring kingdom of Westham and never look back.

There was another huge uproar from the blood-hungry crowd, of course. They wanted to see her dead and worse, now they'd been denied. Sophie felt her stomach do a rolling pitch, like she was being tossed around on a stormy sea. She wasn't sure if it was relief or horror or exhaustion or all three.

For a while after that, everything was a blur. The guards took her back to the prison and thankfully kept the public well away from her cell.

She had been told she would be leaving the kingdom with an escort at first light the next morning, never to return, on pain of death, but that's all she'd been told. Sophie paced in her cell, desperate to wind down the hours separating her from being free of this place and the waking nightmare.

"My queen."

Sophie felt pinned to the spot under that voice. She turned slowly, allowing time to compose herself. She had nothing to say to him, so she stared expectantly.

"I hope you didn't suffer too greatly during your time here?" he asked, looking pointedly at the pile of straw that had been her bed for the last two weeks.

"The accommodations were lovely," she said, "but the staff could be much better."

Nate laughed, easy and open, a sound that had once set her alight with a schoolchild blush now just made her feel sick.

"I just hope that in time you will understand that I only did what I had to in order to protect my rule."

She scoffed. He had stayed her execution publically, and while no one would give him too much grief if he decided to change his mind again, she didn't think he would.

"I knew our marriage was political," she said. "I just didn't realize how ruthless you were."

"Your mistake, then," he shrugged. "But I suppose you're starting to understand."

She nodded.

"Good, then you will also understand I can't allow you to return to your brother's kingdom. It wouldn't do to send you straight home to tell of everything you've learned in my court."

Sophie was chilled, right down to the bone, more thoroughly than if he had dumped a bucket of ice over her head. If she couldn't go home, and nothing could compel her stay in Cambral, where was she to go? To one of the outlying kingdoms on the coast, next to the Tar Sea where she knew no one and she didn't speak the language?

"I have arranged passage for you on an airship leaving North Port tomorrow at dawn," Nate said. He took a step forward, reaching out to brush his hand over the satin braid on the neckline of her gown.

She slapped his hand away. "To where?"

Nate looked at his hand, then met her eyes with his calculating smirk. "There's an entire new world out there, my queen, just waiting for a brave adventurer or two to find it, for honour and glory, for king and country."

"A discovery ship..." A ship crewed by brigands and criminals and rough clockworks, setting off across the ocean for the promise of treasure and title should they return. None ever did.

"The Shadow Queen, yes, bound for the unknown lands on the other side of the Tar Sea. I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends. Goodbye, Sophie."

The door to the cell clanged shut behind him and Sophie was left alone again.

--

Three palace guards accompanied her to the North Port the next morning. Sophie had all that was left of her worldly possessions tied up in a bundle, with a few pieces of treasure she had secreted out of the castle. Maybe it would be enough to buy her safety.

She had heard tales of the kind of goings-on that happened on these criminal misadventure voyages, but there was no way all the rumours could be true, especially since they said none of these ships ever came back once they'd left.

Sophie had no idea what to expect, what she was walking into, or how long she would remain alive after she left Cambral with the crew of The Shadow Queen.

The guards left her at the air docks, next to a little sign with the number 14 on it. There was no ship in sight. Sophie pulled her hood down further over her eyes, feeling as conspicuous as brass teats on a narwhal.

Sophie read the ticket in her hand, for the hundredth time. North Port, berth fourteen, dawn. There was no ship at berth fourteen and the sun had been up for twenty minutes. Ships were leaving through the clear blue sky all around her, but she couldn't see any coming in.

"You waiting for The Shadow Queen, mistress?"

Sophie looked up, trying not to show how the man had startled her. He didn't look like anything special, tall and thin, all colour and manner of layered clothing, enough to hide any number of things in, like a stolen treasure or a sharp knife. He was leaning on the post, smiling innocent as anything, but there was some knowing little twinkle in his eye that Sophie didn't like one bit.

But her proper education and courtly manner kicked in and she tucked the ticket up her sleeve. "Yes. I think it is late this morning, but I fear I may have missed it."

"Maybe, maybe," he said, agreeing with a little nod. "Or maybe The Shadow Queen doesn't exist. Maybe it's a tricky way of getting someone who doesn't know any better killed. You better come with me, mistress, and I'll take you to see the captain."

That sounded a little simple to be Nate's ultimate plan, but she wouldn't put anything past him anymore. But then again, what was to say this man was any friendlier? He could be part of the trick, or just another cutpurse looking to rob her blind and leave her for dead.

He saw her indecision; really, she hadn't been trying to hide it. "Look, on your left, just past the wind up shop. See that man? He's been following since before your guard friends left. And leaning out the porthole on The Oily Ocelot in berth twelve there. What's that in her hand? Hard to tell from this distance, but it looks like a rifle." Sophie looked to her left, then up, just a glance, but enough to tell her the man was right.

"Ooh, it is a rifle," the man went on. "An Envoys 99 with a fitted scope. Your choice, but let me tell you, there's a reason the Envoys costs the same as a mansion on a hill, mistress. Only a really top shot would own one of them, drawing pay from one of them mercenary assassin companies in Low Town."

It could still be a trick, Sophie knew, but the girl with the rifle certainly wasn't. "Come along, then, show me this captain of yours."

The man in the tumble of rags smiled and took her arm, just as gentlemanly as a courtier. He led her through the winding streets, doubling back and forth a few times, pausing and turning when someone might have been following them.

He stopped in front of a run down, two storey building, in the middle of a row of run down, two storey buildings. This one had an old slat of wood hanging above the door proclaiming 'The Maiden's Knickers' and a big crack running down the middle of the door as if it had made close friends with an axe in the past.

"A brothel?" Sophie gave him a hard look. "I don't know what exactly you think --"

"Easy now, mistress, I wouldn't dare dream of trying to kidnap you for any nefarious reason, a fine lady like yourself. It's just a brothel makes a good place to do all sorts of business, not just the lying down kind." He pushed the door with his shoulder and held it open for her.

It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dimness inside the building, but when she could see properly again, it was exactly what she was expecting; a seedy little den for whoring and worse. She couldn't see anyone, but there was the nearby noise of people. She didn't want to know what they might be up to.

"Captain, look what I found hanging around North Port this morning, waiting for The Shadow Queen," said her guide, pushing through a set of swinging slat wood doors that were painted the same garish purple as the sign. Some of the paint flaked off as the doors swung shut behind him.

Sophie glanced back over her shoulder, looking at the dingy light peeking through the dirty windows and the pieces of the broken door held together with a twist of wire. In just a few hours, how far she had come from anything she'd known before. And in just two weeks before that, how far still... The life she knew for so long, before Nate's plan to be rid of her, to defile her name and her station, it was just a dream to her now, a distant wisp of memory, and fading fast.

She edged through the swinging door, carefully brushing flakes of old paint off the delicate velvet of her jacket. When she looked up, she was the centre of attention.

There were four people, including her newfound friend, lounging on a pile of pillows and furs on the floor, all staring right at her. Behind them, a man stood guard, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Probably the captain -- for who else would study her so intently and look so commanding?

Sophie didn't want to make him any madder than he already seemed, so she looked to the man who had led her here and the people he was sitting with; two blonde women and a dark haired man.

The older-looking of the two women was feeding her rescuer crackers and he was curled around her knees like a self-satisfied dog. "And who are you exactly?" asked the woman with the crackers.

Sophie recalled dimly a time when she was spoken to with respect, but that time was long gone. She swallowed what was left of her pride. She was in their world now, whatever that would entail. "My name is Sophie."

"What did you do to piss off the king, I wonder?"

"Not Princess Sophie from Westham? Consort to the king himself?"

Sophie glanced at the man who had spoken up, the other man on the floor. He was stocky and pale, every bit the opposite of the man who had brought her back from the docks, but he had the same sort of air around him, like he ruled every inch of the space around him. Everyone in the room had that look to them, now that she was noticing.

"Maybe once," she said. "But I've been stripped of my title and my home and sent into forced exile. I'm just Sophie now."

There was a ripple of laughter from the people on the floor. Even the sharp eyed captain standing by the back door cracked a small smile. Sophie wasn't quite sure how to take it.

"Well, we are a kind of kin, then, Just Sophie," said the dark haired man on the floor, as he unfolded himself and stood up. "I'm the former Marquis James Sterling, and I was the right advisor to the king of Cambral, before he booked me passage on The Shadow Queen." He kissed the back of her hand and gave a little bow.

Sophie had heard his name mentioned before, in hushed tones, but she'd never thought to ask about it. Advisors came and went, so she thought he must have moved on from Nate's service.

"He ordered you killed?"

"Beats the public spectacle of good old fashioned boiling in oil," said the Marquis with a crooked smile. "And the king does hate an unnecessary spectacle."

"Lord Sterling, I --"

He held up a hand. "Please, Highness, dispatch with the 'Lord,' just Sterling, I think, or Jim if you're feeling romantic. I don't like to remember my former glory, it always makes me weep for how low I've fallen."

"Thank you for that, Jim," said the man that had brought Sophie from the dock. "We're all so sorry you're reduced to live with the common criminal element, my Lord."

"Shut your hole, Hardison," Sterling said, but with a smile. Then it was the man called Hardison who had saved her, took her away from her certain death to this less certain fate. Now she had a name to be eternally grateful to, at least until she discovered what was to become of her now.

"Then you must call me Sophie, if you will, I fear to know what the King would do if he learned I wasn't dead like he planned." She smiled at Sterling, hoping that maybe she had found the friend that she needed in this place.

"So, you're from Westham?" The question came from the only woman who had not yet spoken to her -- a girl really.

Sophie nodded.

"Eliot's from Westham, too," she said, pointing to the standing man.

"Captain Eliot," Sophie said, nodding to him. "It is so good to make the acquaintance of a fellow Westhammer. Not many from our country end up in Cambral long term, and I can only imagine what the borders will be like once the king there hears of how the terms of the treaty that was my marriage to King Nate were discarded."

There was a strange feel to the silence that followed, and Sophie felt she had made some sort of major faux pas. Maybe she wasn't meant to address the captain directly or maybe these were just not the right kind of people to talk royal politics with.

She opened her mouth to apologize for whatever wrong she'd committed unwittingly, but she was cut off by laughter.

"Sophie," Sterling said, patting her arm before leaning back heavily on the wall behind him, still chuckling. "Allow me to introduce you to Parker, the captain of the finest trade airship this side of anywhere, The Tumbler's Fall."

The girl who had spoken last inclined her head and gave Sophie a wry smile. Parker was the last person Sophie would have guessed to be the captain. She appeared to be the youngest, though now that Sophie was really looking at her, she seemed to have a sort of ageless quality to her features. She might have been eighteen or thirty five; Sophie could only guess.

"I am so sorry, I --"

Captain Parker waved her off. "It happens a lot. It's actually one of the main reasons I keep him around. Eliot's my first mate. Not that we... you know, mate."

"I love how you specify that every time," Hardison said. "Every single time -- brings a tear of joy to my eye."

"Shut up, Hardison," Eliot said, and Sophie was not surprised at all to hear the growl in his voice. It matched the dark in his eyes and the firm set of his jaw perfectly. "Really, Parker, I wish you wouldn't say that."

"Well, it's true. I don't want anyone to have the wrong idea of your purpose on my ship. I don't run that kind of operation."

Sophie didn't think it prudent to remind anyone that they were sitting in the back room of a whorehouse, though she thought it hard enough that maybe someone could hear.

"Sterling and Tara --" the other blonde woman smiled at Sophie and dropped another cracker into Hardison's mouth "-- are officers on the ship. And Hardison... What's your rank, currently?"

He shrugged. "Don't remember, boss, you change it so often." He sprayed cracker crumbs when he spoke.

"Ship's Idiot," Eliot said. The growl was still there, but it sounded a lot more smug.

"That's the one," Parker said. "But I think he just might get a promotion for this one. What are your plans for the immediate future, Miss Sophie?"

Sophie looked around the room, feeling particularly put on the spot, Parker's words pinning her down like an exotic bug under glass. "Um."

"Do you want to stay here? We can put in a good word with the Madame..."

The Maiden's Knickers were probably the last place Sophie wanted to spend the rest of her days. If not because she didn't think she was tough enough to withstand the work, then because she wanted out of the city, out of the country, and as far away from Nate's poisonous influence as she could be.

"No, thank you. I was hoping to be out of Cambral entirely. Home to Westham, perhaps."

"Convenient," Parker said, standing and offering a hand to help the woman, Tara, off the floor as well. "We're headed out of Cambral this afternoon, as soon as I get word that the ship's ready to fly."

Sophie looked uncertainly at the people gathered, the crew of The Tumbler's Fall, and realized they were waiting for her to make her choice.

"Well... I think..."

--

Captain Parker (Sophie was still unsure if that was a first or last name, and she was starting to think maybe it was an adopted name entirely) bestowed upon Sophie the title of 'Ship's Maid' and she'd been tasked with keeping the common areas of the ship looking like it wasn't crewed by a bunch of slobs and oafs, as well as seeing to the Captain's private quarters.

The Captain's quarters were not a difficulty because Parker kept her things neater than anyone Sophie had ever met. The rest of the crew was a little more in line with what Sophie had been expecting from a crew aboard a ship that Sophie was learning was engaged in a little more than just fair and even trades.

She wouldn't call them pirates, because that implied a certain level of murdering and razing of villages that The Tumbler's Fall just wasn't up for. They were definitely smugglers, and probably thieves, to some degree, but everyone was so happy and pleased to see her that she couldn't feel afraid or disgusted by them.

Her second day aboard, she made the mistake of looking out the window on her way from her little room in the middle of the ship to the bridge where the Captain has summoned her.

"Oh. Oh heavens. Oh lord on high." She sat down, pressing her back to the wall under the window and pressing her hands to her eyes.

"Are you all right?"

Sophie looked up into the concerned face of Tara. "Yes, I... We're very high up."

Tara sat next to Sophie on the floor. "We sure are. You knew that's how an airship worked though, right?"

"I certainly did, but knowing we're up high and seeing it turn out to be two very different things." There had been actual clouds floating past the windows.

"You get used to it. I love it up here." Tara got a distant kind of look in her eyes. "It makes me feel like I'm finally away from all the dirt and crud of my old life. I can be above it all, free and clear. The air up here is cleaner, you know. Can you tell? I can always tell."

Sophie couldn't really tell the difference, besides maybe that the air here was cooler than it was in the city. "Yes, I think I can," she said. Tara had been helping Sterling enforce the 'be kind to the new housekeeper' policy and Sophie was grateful. "But I suppose it will take some getting used to."

"How did you come to be here?" Sophie asked. It was forward, yes, but she was quickly coming to learn that forward was not out of place here.

"Oh, it's not a very good story," Tara said, waving a hand. She got to her feet and leaned on the railing under the window, looking out into the swiftly moving clouds. "Not compared to everyone else's. I just showed up one day and never left."

Sophie didn't believe that for a moment, but pressing the woman would be unfriendly. Slowly, Sophie got up. She stood next to Tara at the railing, but kept her back to the window.

"Can you... Do you know anything about the captain?" Sophie had been wondering about the strange captain and how she kept such a rowdy bunch of mismatched brigands under control and working productively.

"How she came to be the captain, you mean?" Tara chuckled. "It's a good story, one for the history books, I imagine, but she doesn't like it to be spread around. I might be the only one on board who knows it."

Sophie was on pins and needles. "Oh?"

"She was a common street thief in Cambral until she stole bread from the galley aboard one of Duke Archibald's ships."

Sophie had heard of Duke Archibald, one of the ruling class in the neighbouring kingdom of Setra, and he wasn't well known for his kindness and patience. "What then?" she asked.

"He chained her up in one of his dungeons and after a week and a day of torture, she broke free, killed all his guards and stole The Tumbler's Fall from Archibald's private fleet," Tara said with her eyes shining.

"That's why we avoid any ships flying Setra flags and we never, ever land in the capital, even though Artes has the very best fences." Tara touched Sophie's arm reassuringly. "You'll get used to the clouds soon enough, love."

"Thank you," Sophie said, but she wasn't prepared to turn around and face the open sky just yet.

"You're very welcome. I like talking to you, much better than Hardison or that queer little clockwork friend of his." Tara gave her a little hug and trotted off around a corner.

Sophie thought about what Tara had told her. It wasn't that it was an unrealistic story, especially with the sorts of things she'd been exposed to in just her first few days aboard ship...

Just a few hours after Hardison had found Sophie at the docks, The Tumbler's Fall swung out of its berth at North Port and into a perfect blue sky. Sophie didn't even watch the city she had come to know as home disappear as they floated away, because she was stowing what little remained of her personal effects in the room Parker had assigned her.

And then, all in a rush of one afternoon, she'd met people from every country she knew the name of, and some she didn't. She'd met clockwork people, nothing like the little, unthinking machines that ran behind the scenes in Nate's palace (he said they unsettled him and he didn't let them roam free where anyone could see them), but real, clattering, smoke-belching, talking, walking clockworks. There was a man with only one arm and a scar in the shape of a shooting star across his chin and a woman with the most impressive beard Sophie had ever seen.

It was like an entire rainbow of people and experiences she didn't even realize she'd been missing out on. Sophie was thrilled and terrified at the same time.

"Sophie, come here a second," Captain Parker called, snapping Sophie out of her reverie and beckoning her into the captain's private chambers.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and hurried to the door. "Captain?"

"Please, just 'Parker' is fine unless I'm in a bad mood," Parker told her. "I just wanted to talk to you about the way you've been keeping my rooms."

"A problem already?"

Parker eyed her for a moment, with a tight frown. "You don't take criticism well, do you?"

"I don't... I've never really been criticised, Capt-- Parker. I wouldn't know."

Parker stared at her for another moment, and then burst out laughing. "That is funny. You're funny, Sophie. So... well-raised."

"I suppose." Sophie was a little affronted. She wasn't sure what she'd done wrong in Parker's quarters, but the place appeared to be spotless.

"I just wanted you to know about this." Parker held up a small wooden box, about the size of cigar box. It was old and scuffed, made of some dark wood Sophie couldn't name. She didn't recognize it.

"Yes?"

"I didn't tell you before, so I'm not mad, but I do want you to know now."

Sophie nodded for her to continue after Parker trailed off, running her fingers over the edges of the box.

"If you ever touch this box, or move it, or open it? I'll throw you out of the ship without a care to where we are, or if we've docked, or if we're over shark infested waters. Understand?"

Sophie didn't trust herself to give a verbal answer. She nodded, shocked that Parker could even be so violent. Maybe there was more truth to Tara's story than she had initially thought.

"Lovely!" Parker had a smile like a ray of sunshine, and it made the room seem brighter. To look at her, she was a slim, unassuming girl with bright, clever eyes, but there were moments -- like what had happened with the chest -- that made Sophie wonder if it wasn't a wolf in sheep's clothing trick. Maybe she was just suspicious of everyone since Nate turned out to be such a... well, such a Nate.

She left Parker's quarters and risked another peek out the window. The sun was setting and it would be time for the evening meal soon. She hurried to the galley to see what she could help with.

--

"So, how are you faring aboard our lovely home?" Sterling slid into a seat across from Sophie. "Learning lots? Finding yourself in any trouble?"

"No, no trouble. Everyone has been very lovely," Sophie said.

"Our fearless captain hasn't tried to eat you yet?"

"No... Should I be on the lookout for cannibalism?"

Sterling chuckled and shook his head. "Don't repeat this, because she wouldn't like it getting around, but she's actually a really sweet girl. She had a hard life, growing up at the Saint Geannon's Home For Underloved, Underhomed, and Wayward Girls in Cold Run. Heard of it?"

"Never," Sophie admitted. "But then, I've never been west of the Yellow Bridge." Nate had warned her never to go to the worse parts of the capital city, and she wouldn't have gone anyway, not with a name like 'Cold Run.' Worse even than Low Town, it was said.

"Oh, be thankful for that then, Miss Sophie, it's a terrible place. Worse even than being locked in Nate's awful prison tower, that I can most assuredly tell you. Poor Parker, she suffered horribly at the hands of the sisters of Saint Geannon. No one knows how to torture like nuns." He shuddered, like he himself had been brutalized by a nun at some point.

Whether or not it was actually true, Sterling wove quite the story of poor orphan Parker's life, beaten and broken by wicked nuns in the bad part of town until one day the orphanage sold her to The Maiden's Knickers for thirteen pennies and a jar of bird honey.

"That's why we hide there when we dock in Cambral," Sterling explained. "Parker's on the greatest of terms with the madam and all the girls. It's also why she won't let men touch her. Too familiar with the strange appetites of the rougher sex, I suppose."

Sophie drew herself back instinctively. She was quite sure she didn't want to know what exactly he meant by appetites.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to imply anything," Sterling said quickly, holding out his hands in deference. "I'm about as harmful as a mayfly in that respect, my dear woman."

"Eunuch," Hardison said, fake whispering to Eliot loud enough for everyone to hear. Sophie hadn't even realized they were eavesdropping. Eliot and Hardison sniggered together like school children, evidently fond of riling Sterling to a frothy rage.

"I meant only that I am a gentleman, unlike the rest of you lazy bounders aboard! Back to work, both of you, or I'll see to it you're demoted past Ship's Useless Cad right down to Ship's Stinking Pig's Ass, Hardison."

"Wait, I'm only the Ship's Idiot now. Is Useless Cad lower than Idiot?" Hardison was fast enough to dodge the mug Sterling sent flying as he scampered off, and Eliot caught it before it hit anything.

Sterling muttered something about vicious idiocy in the lower ranks and stormed off, so beside himself with his frustration that he neglected to bid Sophie goodbye.

"You know that's not true, right?"

Sophie was unused to Eliot speaking more than three or four words in her presence. To have him address a complete sentence right at her was strange indeed.

"I beg your pardon? Useless Cad would be lower than Idiot, would it not?"

Eliot laughed, a soft, huffing sound. It seemed so out of place on him, but Sophie found after a moment that it suited him rather well. He was turning the mug over and over in his hands, staring at it intently. "I meant Sterling's story of Parker's childhood. She's never been a doxy, and I don't suggest you even say the word to her."

"No, of course, I... I wouldn't say that to anyone." Sophie wasn't even sure she knew what it meant. She watched Eliot tap the keg of beer and fill the mug. He took a drink and passed it to her before he sat down in Sterling's vacated seat.

She wasn't a beer drinker by any stretch of the imagination, but turning it down would be rude. She took a little sip, tried not to spit it out, and set the mug between them.

"No one knows Captain Parker's story, and that's the way she'll keep it."

Sophie read between the lines without meaning to. "No one but you?"

Eliot looked up from the table, pinning her uncomfortably with his glare. "Don't be clever," he warned her. "Well... Don't be clever where others can see it. Keep your cleverness hidden. It's the number one rule for surviving out here."

"Sorry." She tried to think of a polite way to tell him he was frightening her.

"Rule number two -- never apologize. No one else ever does." He made like he was going to stand up but stopped.

"Behave yourself," Eliot said. "But don't hesitate to come and find me if someone gives you any trouble. The captain likes you, and I like taking care of the captain's interests."

He walked away then, leaving Sophie to mull that over with her cup of beer. The captain liked her? She'd only been on board for less than a week, how could the captain have formed an opinion so quickly? She wouldn't question it, of course. Being on the captain's good side was absolutely beneficial, she could plainly see that.

"Are all the bullies gone?" Hardison stuck his head through the galley doorway. "Oh, Miss Sophie, hello. You've met my friend Delton, right?" He pointed to the little clockwork toddler. It looked up at Sophie with wide, sapphire eyes. At least, they appeared to be eyes on his flat humanoid face.

"Of course, hello Delton," Sophie said. She was trying so hard to be polite to the clockworks on board, but she'd had no real exposure to them until now, and she worried Nate's dislike for them had bled into her opinions. They made her feel uncomfortable, if only because she could never tell if they were looking at her or not.

"Affirmative," it said, in its rusty little voice.

"That's all he can really say," Hardison said by way of explanation. "To make him a better voice box and increase his vocabulary, I need more copper. We can trade for it in Westham though, if we ever get there. Captain is taking us on some twisty route this time."

"Negative," said Delton, butting up against Hardison's leg.

"Yeah, yeah, you can say two words, how impressive. How are you faring with the delays, my lady? Anxious to return to your home, I'd guess," he asked, pushing Delton away.

Sophie sighed. "Oh, you don't know how I long to see the rolling hills around Westham City."

"Well, we'll get there eventually. Boss wants to swing around and hit the Abbeyton port in Pelovir before we head down to Westham. Ever been to Pelovir?" It was the westernmost country on the continent, known for incredible fishing and pearl diving trade.

"Never," Sophie said "I always wished to go, though. Will we be docked there for long? I'd love to see the sights."

"Maybe a day or so. I'll give you the local tour. I grew up in Abbeyton, right in the heart of the trade docks. Grew up diving for pearls along the coast, and let me tell you, that's not an easy job. I liked it though, for all it wasn't my passion."

"What is your passion?" Sophie asked, watching him with an amused smile. He was so open, and easy to talk to, or to listen to, and always entertaining.

He rapped a closed fist against Delton's head. "These things. Mechanical anything, really. Keeping the Boss's ship in working order, fixing and upgrading as I see fit. I have sort of a knack for it, too."

"And that's why she keeps you around even though you aggravate her?"

Hardison put a hand to his heart and looked affronted. "Aggravate? Never, Miss Sophie, never! I am the shining and joyful light aboard this ship, and anything I say or do comes from a place of love."

Sophie chuckled. "And Sterling would agree?"

Hardison looked sheepish for the first time. "Maybe not. He's an old grump, though, so pay him no mind. I never do."

"May I ask a difficult question?" Sophie asked, leaning forward. "You can choose not to answer, of course, I would never force it, but I'd be ever so interested to hear any thoughts you have on the subject."

"Affirmative." Delton answered on behalf of his creator. Hardison nodded along, clearly amused by either Sophie's seriousness or Delton's boldness.

"I was wondering if you knew how Parker came to be captain of this ship."

Hardison shrugged. "Oh, Miss Sophie, I've heard so many stories on that subject I wouldn't know where to even start telling you. I think she tells everyone something different so that there's not a grain of truth to be spread about. Likes it that way, too."

"Affirmative."

Sophie nodded slowly. "Yes, of course. I suspected as much. Thank you for your honesty, Hardison. Now, will you kind gentlemen help me prepare the evening meal?"

"Affirmative."

"Aw, Delton, come on! You're always getting me into the worst kinds of trouble."

--

Things found an almost normal routine after that. Sophie would rise and bathe, always in cold water out of a little bowl. It was quite the downgraded luxury compared to what she was used to, but she enjoyed it more than she thought she would. The cold energized her for the day and she found she could focus better on her chores.

She looked after the common areas of the ship, save for the command bridge, where she was forbidden to go. That didn't bother her, that there were things forbidden to her. Nate had had rules just the same during her time in Cambral. Sophie didn't know the first thing about piloting an airship or navigating or anything else.

She would have lunch with whoever was around, enjoying the company. Everyone aboard the Tumbler's Fall had magnificent stories of places and people Sophie could only dream of. Best of all, they liked hearing her talk about her life, too. They would ask for stories about Westham and Cambral and living in a palace and going to high feasts. It was a comfortable give and take and Sophie realized after only two weeks on board that maybe she could spend more time here than she thought. She was still anxious to return to Westham City and see her brother, but if Captain Parker planned them another alternate detour, she wouldn't be all that upset.

"To bed, the lot of you," the captain said, coming into the mess hall and snapping her fingers at the crew gathered around the large table. "Skeleton crew only for the overnight, I want everyone well-rested for our docking tomorrow. You all received your assignments when we reach the market in Abbeyton. No mishaps, all right?" She looked at Hardison as she said it. It was hard to tell, but Sophie thought she could see him blush.

"Right you are, Captain," he said quickly. "Everything will go as smooth as glass tomorrow, boss."

"Good. Sophie, meet me in my chambers in ten minutes. I have something to discuss with you about tomorrow." The captain turned on her heel and left.

"Should I be worried?" Sophie whispered to Hardison when she was sure Parker was out of ear shot.

"Probably not. She probably just wants you to take on a job tomorrow when we hit market. You're a respectable looking lady, I bet you could smuggle all sorts of illicit things."

That really didn't make Sophie feel any better. Ten minutes felt like ten hours, but she knocked on the door to the captain's cabin precisely ten minutes later.

"Come in."

Sophie pushed the door closed behind her after she entered. "Captain? Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, Sophie, good." Parker was looking intently out the window, watching the dark clouds slip past the stars. "I need you to do something special tomorrow."

Sophie's stomach turned over a little, clenching in knots at the thought of whatever crimes Parker was going to ask her to commit, but she nodded.

"Yes Captain, what can I do to help?"

"I need you to stay on the ship."

Sophie let out a sigh without meaning to. "Oh, I mean. Yes, of course. Whatever needs to be done." She was so thankful Parker wasn't asking her to do anything illegal. Sophie knew just flying with a brigand crew was illegal in most places, but it didn't feel that way. Stealing something or selling something stolen or trading off government secrets or any of the other illegitimate activities the crew of the Tumbler's Fall took part in would feel a lot more like being a criminal, she thought.
Parker eyed her carefully as she stood up and crossed the small room. Her soft soled boots made no noise on the wooden floor. Sophie stood up straight and tried not to look nervous. Technically she knew she was the subordinate here, but she couldn't bring herself to avert her eyes. She met Parker's gaze head on.

"Just keep everything locked, sit at the bridge, and wait for us to signal you to unlock the bay doors," Parker instructed. "We'll all be leaving at dawn, and everyone knows no one is allowed back on board until I get here, so don't open up for anyone but me."

Sophie nodded. "Of course, Captain."

Parker smiled and patted Sophie's arm. "Thanks, Soph. You know, you're doing pretty good. Better than I thought you would."

"Pardon me?" It came out sounding more affronted than she meant it to, but Sophie had never been called by a pet name like that before, nor did she understand what Parker meant by 'doing better than she thought.'

"Just... everyone took bets, that first day, about how long you'd last before you demanded to be set down somewhere, but you've adjusted to our life pretty well. Impressive, really." Parker was watching her in that very Parker way, that unreadable, intractable expression of scrutiny and aloofness.

"Thank you," Sophie said, after a moment of quiet. "I'm doing my best. May I ask how long you bet I would last?"

Parker chuckled. "Two days."

"Two days! Really? Was I so... only two days?"

Parker shrugged. "Everyone else laughed at me. They were all betting hours and minutes."

Sophie didn't know how to take that at all. Hours and minutes? Surely she hadn't been so wide-eyed and naive-looking when she came aboard. "Well, I rather find everyone's lack of faith in me a little disturbing, Captain, all things being considered."

"You've been well enough accepted now, don't worry," Parker assured her, a warm hand on Sophie's shoulder. Sophie was acutely aware of Parker's touch and she wasn't sure why. She did her best to act natural, to keep her breathing even. She had no idea why her heart rate was suddenly speeding up.

"Thank you, Captain Parker. I'll retire now, if there's nothing else. It will be an early morning tomorrow."

"Aye aye, Soph. Get some rest. I'll be docking us in an hour or so."

"You can pilot the ship on your own?" Sophie asked, surprised. Any time she'd walked past the bridge, there had always been six or seven people there, all bustling and noise.

"Of course I can," Parker snapped. Her eyes went suddenly sharp, but she exhaled slowly, muttering something under her breath and smiled again. Probably a trick Eliot taught her to control her temper. He seemed to know all sorts of meditations and strange, foreign mysticism. "She's my ship. I'm well-schooled in all her aspects."

"I'm sure you are, Captain," Sophie said in her soft, mannerly court voice. "I'll take my leave now."

"Good night, Sophie."

--

Eliot roused her before dawn, sticking his head through the doorway and tossing an apple into the bedclothes. "Sorry it ain't more, but we're restocking here in Abbeyton. I'll bring you something better when we come. There's water on the bridge. Leaving in five minutes."

"Thank you," Sophie called out after him, scrambling up to get herself clothed in time. She'd long since abandoned the girdle and complicated lacy underthings she wore at Nate's palace in Cambral in favour of a more simple shift. Her newly adopted style wasn't as flamboyant as Tara's or Hardison's, but already Sophie could tell she was going to need to start incorporating more layers into her ensemble if she was going to stay on the ship much longer. The days were getting shorter, while the nights got longer and colder.

Parker and Hardison waved goodbye and sealed up the doors from the entrance bay to the rest of the ship, and Sophie rushed to the bridge to watch them shimmy down the rest of the crew rope ladder to the dock below.

The initial excitement of being alone on the bridge wore off after a minute or two, and Sophie was left to watch the sun come up alone. It was gorgeous, and reminded her a little of the sunrise she watched on her last day in the tower prison.

She felt a pang of melancholy, but it was quickly replaced by awe when the sun started to cast enough light to see by. It actually took her breath away for a moment. Sophie had never seen to ocean before, save for pictures and the colour of it surprised her as much as the vastness. When the sun rose enough to glint off the water, the whole ocean glittered like gemstones. She was sure she'd seen real gems that didn't look half as bright and perfect. And with the sun turning the sky all manner of pinks and oranges, the deep blues and green of the water, she imagined she was looking at a bright painting from a children's storybook instead of something real.

Sophie stood at the window and watched the horizon for a long time, until the sun was properly risen and she could watch the people trading on the docks.

She settled in for a long day of waiting, making herself comfortable on a low bench, bolted to a wall. There was a heavy looking chair, polished wood and upholstered in velvet that looked more comfortable, but it also looked like Parker's seat and that made Sophie uneasy.

As she watched a man with a towering stack of hats weave his way among the crab fishermen bringing in the first early morning catch, Sophie thought back to the incident in Parker's chambers the night before. She kept expecting the man to drop the hats, but he was as nimble as an alley cat and he turned a corner out of sight without losing a single thing. That reminded her of her life on the Fall, always twisting and turning to avoid knocking something or someone down, careful not to lose anything as she went. They were all like that, to a point. Even open, friendly Hardison could move quickly to get away if he had to.

Parker though... Parker didn't seem to do anything like that at all. She let the hats fall, seemed to delight in staring a person down until they backed off first. Sophie wasn't sure what to make of the captain at all, even after all the time that had passed. She remembered Parker's touch and shivered. Winter must have been coming on faster than she thought. Maybe she needed to ask Tara about getting a shawl to keep out the chill.

A buzzer went off on the control panel near her head and she jumped up to see what was going on. The noise sounded again, a little light bulb with a neatly printed label under it lit up. 'Entrance Bay Door,' it read.

Sophie went to the wall and switched on the communicator like Hardison had shown her during her first few days on board. "Hello?"

"Sophie, it's Hardison. Can you hit the blue button that says external locking mechanism and let me in?"

Sophie hadn't seen him come back, lost in her thoughts as she was. "Oh, yes, I ... Captain said everyone had to wait until she was back, Hardison. Do you know where she is?"

"Oh, come on, Sophie, I'm carrying so many boxes and my arms are about ready to fall right off. I'm not Eliot, I'm not built for all this work."

Sophie sighed heavily, but disengaged the door locks for the bay."Fine, but you have to get out again and wait for the captain. She doesn't need to find out about this. You'll be demoted to Ship's Barnacle or something."

The entrance bay was three floors down and on the most aft section of the ship so Sophie wasn't sure she'd even heard the shout. She was sure about the gunfire though, a few soft pops and a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Hardison!" She had the mind to hit the deadlock on the bridge doors as she was leaving so no one could sneak in behind her. "Hardison!" Sophie ran for the bay, towards whatever uncertain danger Hardison had dragged in with him. She wasn't sure what she could do to help, but she was sure she was going to try. He had saved her life before, after all, and they were friends now so she felt she had to try.

She slid down the two flights of stair banister with her skirt tucked between her knees like a castle page boy, a little breathless at her own daring.

"No, run! Hide!"

She only glimpsed Hardison through the big sliding door that led to the bay. There were at least three men with him and he had a split lip that already had dried blood crusted around it. Clearly they had been with him when he buzzed up, probably with a gun pressed into his back. He waved her away when he saw her, shouting for her to run and hide.

One of the men turned, but Sophie ducked out of sight and ran for it. She had to get her bearings and regroup, maybe find a way of getting down to the ground and finding Eliot or Sterling and Parker. They would know how to handle the situation and she was still fairly confident that no one could get into the bridge to steal the ship.

There were heavy footsteps behind her in the corridor. Sophie picked a turn at random and had to scramble over a stack of boxes blocking most of the way. She kicked them back behind her, hoping to slow down someone bigger and slower who maybe wouldn't be able to get over them so well.

She flew up the first set of stairs she came to, taking more twists and turns through the ship with little regard for where she was. The footsteps and vague shouts were getting fainter. Up ahead on her right was the door to the captain's chambers. She shut the door as quietly as she could and twisted both locks.

Breathing heavily, she looked around. Parker's cabin was in perfect order, exactly as it always was. Sophie crossed to the wardrobe, unlatching the doors and hoisting the heavy looking baton Parker kept there. It was the only thing Sophie could use as a weapon that would actually stand a chance of handling properly, and the bottom of the wardrobe was the only real hiding spot she could think of besides.

Sophie was just about to pull the door shut and crouch down when she was struck with a thought. Quiet as she could, still listening for the brute who had chased her, she crossed to the bedside table and pulled Parker's wooden chest from underneath it. She remembered the fire in Parker's eyes when she'd warned Sophie never to move it, so it was clearly the most important thing to Parker.

Sophie decided Parker would have it be moved temporarily by Sophie than have it stolen or worse by whoever was on the ship. She locked herself up in the darkness of the wardrobe and tried to catch her breath. When she was certain the coast was clear, she'd find a way to get down to the market below and find help for her friend.

There was muffled shouting and no way Sophie could tell how close. Between the solid walls of the wardrobe and then the cabin itself, it seemed like her head was stuffed with cotton. She couldn't mistake the sound of the chamber door being rattled though.

Sophie caught her lower lip between her teeth to stop from crying out. She clutched the box to herself, one corner biting into her palm, other hand wrapping around the smooth wood of the bat like it was a lifeline.

She'd put the chain across on the door and flicked the serious-looking lock in the knob, but from the sounds of it, the door was nearly off its hinges. The voice was louder, more angry sounding than before, probably frustrated with the door. Sophie realized she'd stand no chance once the man was through if she were curled at the bottom of the cabinet. She had to meet him head on and hope to surprise him with a bat upside his head.

She crept out of the wardrobe and had to swallow another little shriek. The doorknob looked broken from someone wrenching on it, halfway out of the door. The frame was starting to splinter around the edges and as Sophie watched, the man threw his weight against it again and more wood came flying off.

She took a deep breath, squeezed her hand around Parker's wooden treasure box and steeled her nerves.

The door came crashing down in a hail of noise and flying wood splinters. Sophie was sure the scream was her own and she swung the bat with all her might. It connected hard, but there was no thump of a body hitting the fallen door or anything else. In the aftermath of the door getting kicked in, it was like all the noise had been sucked out of the room. It was eerily quiet. Sophie realized her eyes were closed. Carefully, she peeked at the bat. She was still holding it, and the other end was held firmly in Eliot's palm. He gave her a tiny smile.

"Hello," he said evenly. Parker and a beat up looking Hardison were right behind him. Sophie could hear scuffling in the hall, probably Tara and the rest of the crew taking care of whatever enemies were left.

Sophie yelped, startled and relieved and confused all at once. She dropped the bat and moved back, letting the wooden box slide from her grasp at the same time. It hit the floor on its edge and snapped open. Sophie and Parker both gasped and went for it at once.

Sophie got there first.

"I'm sorry, Captain, I... Oh."

Parker snatched the gold circlet out of her hand and jammed it back in the box. Sophie stood and backed away, backs of her legs bumping into the narrow bed. "Captain... Parker, I didn't mean."

"Get out. All of you, out. I want to be in the air in ten minutes."

Eliot took Sophie by the arm and pulled her from room when it became obvious that Sophie was going to stare at Parker with wide, surprised eyes all afternoon.

Tara and Sterling were helping Hardison up to the bridge, presumably to get the doors open and get them moving again. Sophie couldn't even process that, his injuries didn't even register with her. Eliot pulled her along the hallway back towards her own room.

"I..."

"Hush," he ordered, keeping his voice low. So he'd seen the crown, too.

He followed her into her room, shutting the door and leaning against it. He pointed at her bed, a silent order for her to sit. Sophie sat, head still reeling.

"How did you all...?" she asked finally. If she started with the easy questions, maybe the big one bouncing around in her head would be easier to ask.

"Parker has a lot of friends in Abbeyton. Someone tipped us off that the thugs had dragged Hardison back to the ship." Sophie wasn't sure, but it seemed Eliot was glad she had started with an easy one too. "It's a good thing you let them in, by the way. They would have killed him as he stood. For all Parker gets frustrated with Hardison's games, she'd be sad to see him dead."

Sophie nodded. "They seem to get along well."

"And a good mechanic is hard to find," Eliot said, with just the hint of a terrifying smile.

There was the telltale jolt that meant Hardison had got through the dead bolted doors and they were leaving the Abbeyton port. Now that she was sitting down and the adrenaline was starting to wear off, she had the mind to ask about him. "Is Hardison hurt badly?"

"He's never been better. I think they knocked some sense into him. He shouldn't have been wandering that part of the market without me."

There were regular ship noises, muffled voices and some mechanical sounds, but the little cabin room was packed full of quiet.

"Did she steal that crown?"

Eliot laughed. Sophie wasn't sure if it was sarcastic or genuine laughter, but really, that was her problem with everything about him.

"Of course not," he said after a moment. "It was given to her."

"Given to her? I've met King Nate, Eliot, I know he doesn't give anything to anyone. I was his wife and he didn't even intend to give me my life. Why would he give the Lost Diadem of the Heir Apparent to a orphan airship pirate? It's been missing for years, everyone says, stole out from under the king's nose by a ghost." Sophie thought there was so much more to Parker's story now, maybe a cat burglar, maybe even a murderer.

"It was given to Parker by her father, years ago."

"That's..." Sophie's hand came up to her throat. She stared at Eliot in open mouthed shock. She'd always heard stories in Westham of the shady political goings-on in Cambral -- a curiously dead king, a missing child heir, and then the missing crown...

Eliot nodded.

"But she... Nate..."

"Her uncle."

Sophie felt like she'd had the air knocked out of her. "Parker... our Parker. Is the rightful heir to Cambral?"

Eliot nodded again.

"Why is she here? Why isn't she... This is outrageous." Sophie got to her feet, frowning. She was upset, though she wasn't sure why. She felt like she was still missing a piece to the puzzle.

Eliot stared at her for a moment. "You are really something else."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well... Upon learning the woman you've been thinking of as a street rat criminal all this time is actually the crown princess, you're angry, not awed or questioning or anything else. That's not a reaction most people would have." Eliot was watching her closely, looking coolly amused. When Parker watched her that carefully, she felt exposed and stripped down, like Parker could see everything inside her that made her tick. Eliot had a look like he could do that, if he wished, but she obviously wasn't worth his time.

"Well, that's because I am angry. I went through hell at Nate's hand, and why? Because she won't claim the throne that belongs to her? You can't possibly tell me she doesn't know. Why else would she guard that box so carefully?"

"You think your life would have been easier being the bought and paid for consort to Parker's throne instead of Nate's?" He took a step towards her, inclining his head.

Sophie wanted to slap the smirk off his face. "Yes. Parker might be a coward or an idiot or whatever else, but she's not cruel like Nate."

"I'm a coward, am I?"

Parker had slipped in the room behind Eliot's back. Sophie's heart stopped in her chest for a moment.

"Captain Parker..."

"No, you were making a point. A coward or just an idiot. Which do you think it is, Soph? Eliot, you can leave us. See to Hardison."

"Yes, Captain." With only the briefest nod to Sophie, he left. The door closed with a very definite click.

"I didn't mean -- "

"Yes, you did," Parker said, cutting her off. "You mean everything you say. A lady doesn't speak out of hand. That's what I was always taught, anyway."

Sophie felt like her insides were trying to twist themselves in knots. "Yes. Of course. I... I won't tell anyone."

Parker laughed, a whooping, surprised sound. "Of course you won't! Who would you tell? The crew would never believe it, or else they've heard that rumour before and you'll be boring and unoriginal. Your brother already knows and did nothing to prevent my family's murder or my disappearance because it was more politically convenient to deal with Nate at the time."

She felt a strange combination of cold and hot. Cold on the inside, revulsion for what had happened and dread at what was to come, and the stifling air in the small cabin trying to suffocate her. Sophie took a deep breath, trying to ward both competing feelings off. "Are you going to kill me?" Better to get it out in the open instead of playing games for months like Nate had.

Parker shook her head, leaning back against the wall with her eyes closed. "No. No. It's what he would do, of course. Not what I would do. I promised to get you safely to Westham, so that's what I'll do. For all Nate's deceits and grand plans, he has no quarrel with your brother. You'll be safe there."

"And then what? Where will you go? What will you do about Nate?"

Parker opened her eyes and fixed Sophie with a pointed stare. "What will I do? I'll sail back around to Verse City like I intended, and up the Jagged Coast to the Renghold Mountains to trade with the shamans. I'll come back to Abbeyton, lock Hardison in a cage so he can't do anything stupid and finish my trading. I'll go wherever and do whatever I want, and I won't worry about whatever my uncle Nate wishes to do with the kingdom I never wanted."

"But --"

"But nothing, Lady Sophie." Parker took a step forward, a challenge. Sophie held her ground.

"Nate is hurting people, Parker. Captain. Good people. Forcing them from their homes, taking everything and leaving them ruined. He's pushing into territory that doesn't belong to Cambral, quietly disposing of anyone he doesn't like. You'll let him get away with that?"

Parker moved forward again. They were almost nose-to-nose.

"I don't want that life," Parker said. Her voice was almost a whisper, but she was close enough that Sophie could hear her loud and clear.

"Selfish."

"Free."

"Child."

"Maybe. But I'm happy. And could you ever say that, Sophie?"

Parker had her dead to rights with that question. "I... These last few weeks have been happier than most I can remember," she admitted.

"Exactly. The Tumbler's Fall is a paradise amongst the hell of reality down there on the ground." Parker smiled. "There are so many wonderful things here, so why would I ever want to leave?"

Sophie opened her mouth to answer, to remind Parker again of the problems and the suffering Nate was creating, but Parker leaned in and silenced her with a kiss. It was soft, and only for a moment, but it took Sophie's breath away.

When Parker pulled back and turned around, Sophie raised a hand to her mouth, touching her lips where their mouths had met. She hadn't imagined it, but it felt like a dream. The heat and the stuffy air in the cabin and so much adrenaline were making her dizzy.

"We'll be in Westham by mid-afternoon. You can go back to your family," Parker said, not turning to look at her. She left without another word, and Sophie was left with a messy mind full of thoughts.

--

Sophie had packed up her few belongings and lay down on her little bed to try and sleep away the hours between Abbeyton and Westham City. She didn't want to see how badly Hardison was hurt, too afraid to face him. She didn't feel like talking to any of the other crew members and risk being forced to explain and lie about what happened. She certainly didn't want to see Parker or Eliot.

She couldn't stop thinking about the kiss, such a small gesture so full of possible meanings. Sophie ran through them all in her head, but she gave up trying to parse Parker's line of thought. They were very different people, and Sophie couldn't hope to understand without a detailed guide book. She sat up, pushing the blanket back and resting her head against the wall.

There was a soft knock at the door and Tara stuck her head in a moment later. "Sophie? We're going to be dropping down under the clouds towards Westham City in a few minutes. Parker wants you on the bridge." Tara watched her closely for a moment. "Are you all right? Those thugs gave you quite a scare today."

"Who, Eliot? He's not so bad once you get used to him." Sophie tried to make a joke, but she wasn't sure it was received properly. Tara just kept looking at her as she slid off the bed and into her shoes. "I'll be up in a moment or two. I'm fine Tara, really. Thank you for asking."

"Of course. Are you... Are you really leaving us so soon, Sophie? I'll miss you. I thought we were getting along so well."

Sophie smiled. "Oh, Tara, of course we are. It just seems to be time for us to part ways. Who knows, we might meet again. Thank you for everything, for all that you've taught me."

Tara seemed pleased with this, offering her arms to Sophie for a hug. Sophie went to her and held on tightly. Her mind was still reeling with the suddenness of it all, but Tara had been a good friend and it would be cruel to let her think Sophie was leaving on anything but the best terms.

Sophie walked up to the bridge with Tara, stopping a few times to say goodbye to a crewmate who asked when she was leaving. Everyone was expressing disappointment over her short time aboard, and Sophie found a kind word for each of them.

"Captain?" she asked, pausing in the doorway to the bridge. "Do I ask permission to come in?"

"Come in, Soph," Parker said, lounging in the large wooden chair. It immediately put Sophie in mind of a throne, and she couldn't help but note how comfortable Parker looked in it. She pushed the thought away. "We're about to come out of the clouds and I want you to guide us in toward wherever we can set her down."

Sophie nodded. "There's a stretch of open space to the west of the city, often used as a rugby pitch. It should be empty this time of night. If that doesn't..."

They had just dropped below the cloud line and the scene before them hit Sophie like tidal wave.

Fire, smoke, ruins...

Parker was instantly on her feet, snapping orders at Sterling and Eliot and bringing the ship around. Sophie reached a hand out blindly, grasping for something to steady herself on. Parker caught her under the arm and led her to the chair. Sophie sat when Parker nudged her and fought to breathe. She didn't bother trying to fight the tears.

"What the hell is going on down there? Eliot, what do we know?"

"Nothing, Captain. We had contact with Westham City not two days ago and there was nothing of interest to report."

"Well, find out. We're flying blind here."

"Nate."

"What did you say?" Parker wheeled around to stare at Sophie.

"It has to be him. He did this." Sophie could think of no other explanation, no other enemy who could have destroyed her home like this.

Parker and Eliot traded a dark look before Eliot nodded once and took off running.

After a few minutes, it became apparent they weren't moving. "Please, you have to let me go down there. My brother could be hurt," Sophie said.

Parker shook her head. "We're right over the palace. I sent Eliot down. If there's anyone alive, he'll find them."

Sophie let out an unladylike sob, and Sterling and Tara both rushed to soothe her.

"I just meant..." Parker trailed off. "Sorry, Soph."

It took her a moment to get her breathing under control before she looked up. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the end of Sterling's tie while he patted her shoulder consolingly.

It wasn't long before Eliot came back, smudged with sweat and ashes and looking grim. He shook his head and it seemed like everyone in the room let out a sigh at once.

"No one. And here," he said, holding a dark bundle out to Parker. She shook it out carefully. It was a large sheet of fabric with three white diamonds and yellow scrollwork on a green background. The flag of Cambral.

Sophie's heart clenched in her chest, rage and sorrow and everything else she ever thought it possible to feel bubbling up inside her at once. She looked up at Parker who was staring straight back at her.

"I think... My freedom isn't the only that's important here," Parker said carefully.

Sophie nodded, feeling the pain subside a little. "Possible. Very possible."

Balling up the flag, Parker came over and dropped it into Sophie's lap. "Will you stay with us a little longer?"

"It seems have some unfinished business in Cambral," Sophie said. "But once that's taken care of, I'd be happy to stay as long as you'll have me."

"Truth be told, I feel I have some loose ends in Cambral, Captain," Sterling said, giving Sophie a friendly wink.

"And I have some things to do there myself," Parker said after a moment. "Sterling, set course to Cambral, straight to the royal palace. And then I think Sophie and I need to retire to my chambers to discuss some current politics. Lady Sophie, would that be acceptable?"

Sophie got to her feet, feeling a rush of warmth for the first time since she and Parker had been alone in her cabin earlier. "Aye aye, Captain."