“What’s that beeping sound?” Siren asked as she stirred in the dawn light seeping into the cabin. They had been flying all night for the second night in a row – after a disastrous pit-stop in the district of smokestack, which managed to last all day thanks to another one of Franck’s enemies - and, anxious though she was, she had succumbed to sleep’s tender ministrations early on, albeit so light as to wake feeling thin and used.
“I would imagine that it’s a warning of some kind,” Franck replied, peering out the window and down the hull towards where Sydney was keeping the vessel airborne. He grimaced.
“Shouldn’t someone be doing something about it, then?”
“Most probably.”
Siren opened her mouth to inquire further, hoping that a third question might wrangle out some kind of satisfactory answer, but she gave it up as a lost cause, instead leaning over to where a large brass horn protruded from the wall, attached to a pipe which disappeared beneath the shabbily carpeted floor of the cabin. She swivelled it towards herself with a brutal twist of the wrist and then shouted into it, hoping to get the attention of the vessel’s pilot.
“Sydney, what does that sound mean?” she called.
There was a kind of silence for a moment, a buzzing, rushing, beeping, cacophonic kind of silence, and then Sydney’s voice called back up through the horn, sounding distant and metallic.
“It means we’re running out of fuel. I haven’t flown this far in one go in a long time. I’m sorry, but I think I over-estimated it.”
Siren glanced at Franck, trying to hide the thread of panic that had developed in the back of her mind, but the Philosopher seemed unfazed.
“We are already on the edge of the forest of Blackfeather, which would imply that we are, at least, likely to arrive somewhere close to where we intend to be and therefore things could be considerably worse.” He leaned over towards the horn, forcing Siren to sit back against the stiff seat, and continued, “Where is the nearest place in which you are likely to find some kind of fuel?”
Again there was delay and then Sydney replied, “Well, given that the engine is currently running on hypostatick fluid, we’d have to walk a long way to find a source of it large enough to supply our needs,” Siren sighed and the sound must have carried down the pipe, and quicker than the delays suggested, because Sydney hurried to his next point a little desperately, “but don’t worry, I can easily modify the engine to run on steam. It won’t be as efficient, but it’ll work, and then all we’ll need is some wood to burn and a good supply of water.”
“Steam-power,” Siren asked, giving Franck a meaningful look, “really? After what we went through yesterday?”
“How far will that get us?” Franck enquired, completely ignoring his companion’s frosty glare.
“It’ll be enough to let us explore Blackfeather from the air and then we can top up again to get us to somewhere more… civilised.”
“Sounds good to me,” Franck said, leaning back and sounding very satisfied. Siren was less convinced, but couldn’t find any way of expressing her concerns that might make the two men listen to a single word of them.
Amy, meanwhile, had been staring out at the ruin-speckled forest below and was not saying anything. The dawn light made her appear more faint than usual and the manner in which she gazed out at the view gave her a slightly mournful appearance, like a ghost revisiting the site of its death. She did not appear to have listened to any of the conversation thus far.
Siren wondered what it must be like for her to drift around, more spirit than living being, hardly even able to remember who she really was, let alone why she was in such a state. It was sad, and in that light it seemed to make sense just to stare at the scenery. It was easier than thinking and, Siren had to admit, the forest of Blackfeather was quite beautiful from the air. It stretched on for miles, sometimes with sparse foliage and surprisingly intact remnants of ancient streets, and sometimes more like a thick jungle, with only the faintest traces of stone appearing above the canopy. She wondered how they would ever find Ellis in such a place, assuming, of course, that he had ended up there at all.
The trees began to rise slowly up towards them and she could see that they were about to land in a large clearing which might once have been a plaza of some sort. There was a mechanical droning sound as landing gear was extended and then a jolt as they touched down. The whirring and buzzing of the propellers and the rotary blade began to soften as their spinning slowed down.
“Right,” announced Franck as he rose from his seat, “let us start searching.”
Siren stared out the window a moment longer and sighed. She suddenly felt very tired. The task before them seemed overwhelming – impossible, even – and she couldn’t find the same enthusiasm for the challenge as her employer.
“Okay,” she said at last, turning to leave the vessel, but Franck and Amy had already disembarked and the cabin was instead filled with a lonely kind of silence now that the engine was running down. She shook her head and made her way down to the sound of conversation.
“First we need to find enough water to power the machinery of the Skyboat and we need to gather wood to fuel the engine, then we can search around in the air for more signs of your friend’s presence,” Sydney was saying, leaning against the partially corroded hull of his boat, “I saw something reflecting not far to the south of here which might have been a pool, so if we can carry some canisters down there we should get what we need.”
Franck nodded thoughtfully, “Yes,” he said, sounding slightly distant, “yes, I saw the reflection as well, but it didn’t look much like a pool to me. I’d have said it was above the canopy.”
“I didn’t see anything,” Siren added, feeling a little left out, “so it can’t have been that obvious.”
“My dear,” Franck replied with patronising clarity, “it wasn’t visible from your side of the cabin. I can assure you it was quite clear.”
“I think I may have caught a glimpse of it,” Amy added dreamily, “It was very beautiful, filled with all the colours of the sky.”
“Yes, Amy, that’s what a reflection is,” he turned back to Sydney, “well we might as well head that way anyway. It was the only landmark I could see for miles,” he sighed, “let’s get those canisters.”
The canisters in question were large, bulky and covered in rust. Siren tried to keep the surface away from her blouse and jacket, to avoid staining, but they hadn’t even left the plaza before there were orange-brown streaks appearing all over her attire.
“I’m going to have to ask for extra for this,” she said as Franck gave her an appraising look, “this outfit wasn’t cheap.”
“Yes, I can imagine how leather and wool fashions would be in short supply for a pirate. It’s not like you can just raid a shipment from Amberfields and take your pick of the styles, is it?”
“It’s hard to find them in my size!”
“Perhaps you might try looking for women’s clothes, then?”
“What’s made you so sarcastic all of a sudden?”
“I felt like a change.”
“Ellis’ disappearance is actually getting to you , isn’t it?”
“I was on the verge of the greatest Philosophickal discovery for ten thousand years! I don’t really appreciate it when my research simply vanishes.”
“And it’s nothing more than that?”
“Why should it be?”
“Oh, don’t play the evil genius, Franck, you liked him, I can tell.”
“Well… he asked a lot of questions. I happen to enjoy answering them.”
Siren let a smile stretch across her lips, and then she quickened her pace as they entered the relative gloom of the forest where the smile faltered. It was hard to be cheery, under the circumstances.
The walk south took them about twenty minutes, which wasn’t encouraging, given the fact that, ideally, they would have to carry a fair amount of water back the same way, but before they even reached the next clearing it became obvious that the Former Baron was correct. The reflection was not coming from a pool.
“What is that thing?” Siren asked, blinking from the glare.
“Well, it’s not exactly identical to the images I’ve seen, but, given our location and its rather impressive sheen, I would hazard a guess that it might just be the fabled Silverspire.”
“Silverspire?” Sydney asked, eyebrows raised.
“They built it to make the breakthrough,” Amy said, frozen to the spot and speaking in the cold, rational tones of a Philosopher once more, “a temple to Hypostatic Philosophy, sheathed in aetherised silver and filled with hypostatick engines to slice through the aether. After the breakthrough, when everything went wrong and the rifts closed, it vanished and no one as been able to find it since.”
“Precisely,” Franck said, sounding a little surprised and, if Siren judged his tone correctly, also slightly scared. She didn’t blame him. Amy seemed a completely different person when she was like that, and she wasn’t convinced that she liked that person. “I assume that’s why all the ancient images of it differ so much from the edifice we see before us. No one could remember what it looked like.”
“Why do they think it vanished, again?” Sydney asked, clearly drawn into the mystery.
“It was assumed that it had somehow got lost in the aether between the worlds, out of phase with this world so that it might never be reached again, but obviously it has returned.”
“All the pretty colours,” Amy said, sounding dreamy once more.
“It is pretty, Amy,” said Siren, “but if what Franck says is true, I’m not sure I want to go anywhere near it.”
They entered the clearing at what appeared to be the rear of the building. Siren found herself intimidated by the towering black stone and she couldn’t look at the top of it without shielding her eyes as that remaining silver cap was reflecting the run’s ray right down on top of her.
“There must be an entrance around here somewhere,” Franck muttered, his eyes scanning around frantically.
Siren shook her head, “And we’re planning to enter this thing, because…?”
“Because it might hold important answers. We could find out why the original breakthrough fell apart, why Blackfeather was destroyed and maybe find another way to get into Ellis’ world!”
“And what about Ellis himself? Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“Well, there’s a good chance that he may have found his way to this place as well and, if that’s not the case, we still need water to get the Skyboat running again and there ought to be a water source within the building. All signs point here, Siren, it’s the least we can do to follow them.” He started to make his way around the corner of the building, bobbing his head about as he looked for details, making himself look like some strange kind of bird. Sydney and Amy followed in his wake.
“This place just gives me the creeps,” Siren said to herself, “I don’t like it at all.”
Eventually they made it round to the front of the building, with Franck leading the way, carrying his top hat in one hand as he mopped the bald patch on the top of his head with the other. It was warm, Siren would grant him that, but she had travelled through hotter climes than these and merely unbuttoned her blouse a bit more to let the air in.
“Ah, yes,” the Former Baron began, “this is much more like it, very impressive, a perfect example of early Gargath Dynasty architecture – just look at the chunky blocks they used and the mammoth scale of that archway. We’ve found our way in, that’s for sure.” He was staring back at his companions and pointing behind himself to the building’s gaping entrance like a tourist.
“It looks cold,” Amy said, her tone still a little dreamy and then suddenly she switched to her rational voice, “there are dark secrets inside, hidden things that men have sought for themselves for over ten millennia. It is the focal point of a million passionate calculations and calculating passions – the dreams of obsessed Philosophers. There is power in that ruin and power will always attract corruption.”
Everyone had turned to look at her, so they could all see clearly, at the point when she finished her brief speech, when her eyes seemed to soften.
“I don’t want to go in there,” she said.
“That’s not a problem, Amy, my dear. You can just stay out here with Siren, and Sydney and I will go explore the ruins.”
“Hey, who said I wanted to go in there, either?” Sydney said, clearly annoyed at the Former Baron’s presumption, “I’m just your taxi driver, I’m not here to explore creepy old temples.”
“I’ll go with you, Franck,” Siren said, her voice much more calm than she felt, “Syd can stay with Amy, can’t you?”
The pilot nodded.
“Good, good,” Franck said, “well let’s be going then!” He reached into a pocket as he walked towards the entrance and drew out a thin brass tube which lit up when he shook it. Siren watched from behind as he lifted it up and let its light spill into the dark pools around the archway, bleeding out from within the ruins. Its greenish glow made the stone looked even more stark and cold, but then, suddenly, it fell upon something unexpected.
“Oh my gods!” Siren gasped, then ran towards the fallen figure slumped against the stone wall of the tunnel.
“Oh,” Franck said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper, “this is most… most unexpected.”
Siren was kneeling down now, cutting a black shadow out of the circle of green light and obscuring his view. All he could see was an arm being raised. It was completely limp and covered in a dark stain which, even in the green light, could only be blood.
Siren turned around, her eyes shimmering and she opened her mouth. No sound came out.
“Oh,” he said again and the light in his hand went out.
It was almost an act of mercy.
AUTHOR COMMENT: Things really are not looking well for Ellis, and just what is up with Amy and - wait a minute - what happened to Siren and Franck in Smokestack? More info on the first two points next week when we experience 'Universal Constants'. As for the latter, watch this space!
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