Shannon Delany - Weather Witch

No one had to die here. No one even had to get hurt if Bran handled things well.

Marion was a problem he’d Made, so he’d correct that problem. Somehow.

Ahead, the captain paused by a bank of windows lining the inside of the ship’s belly, Jordan’s arm firmly in his grasp.

Marion steered Meggie and Maude that direction, too, Bran following. Marion had recognized the look of a battered Witch. “I hope you don’t intend on using that Witch to Conduct this ship,” Marion said, addressing the captain. “She hardly looks airworthy.”

The captain rounded on him. “You a Dissenter? I’ll take none of that type aboard,” he warned.

Marion shook his head. “No, no, not a Dissenter, merely a curious observer.”

Before the captain could grunt a reply, another voice called, “I had similar concerns.” A masked man approached, a fox the color of ink weaving in and out between his feet as he walked.

The captain smiled, his silent captive staring blankly out the window at the other airship still docked alongside. “Well, the Wandering Wallace, isn’t it?” He reached out and shook the masked man’s hand. “I doubt I’d recognize you without some strange mask on.” He nudged Jordan.

She didn’t react.

“She’ll do fine,” the captain assured. “Young. Feeling a bit off just now. Needs a bit more training is all. The Maker himself assured me of her fine capabilities.”

Bran ducked farther behind Marion and away from the captain’s immediate sight, fortunate a crowd was milling in the boat’s bottom as they readied to detach from the Western Tower’s dock.

“The Maker only Makes powerful things,” the captain added.

“True, true,” Marion said, the words so cold Bran felt them.

“So long as you are certain she will serve,” the Wandering Wallace said. “Perhaps it would help if the young lady had a bit of first-rate entertainment? A little something to lift her spirits so she can better lift our fine, fine ship?”

“Are you offering to come Topside and entertain us?” the captain asked with a grin.

“Of course, of course,” Wallace declared. “I want her feeling right as rain!”

Hearing those words both Marion’s and Bran’s heads snapped up, their eyes meeting with those of the man behind the mask.

“And might a curious observer perhaps be invited Topside to see how the operation truly works?”

The captain regarded Marion with a long appraising look before nodding. “Certainly. We will make arrangements to gather all of us together to enjoy some food and fine entertainment before our next port of call.”

Jordan suddenly jumped, reaching out a hand to press her palm flat to the window glass, and Bran leaned around Marion to see what had excited her so much and so suddenly.

In the belly of the other airship was the same young man with the ragged beard and blond hair who had asked Marion for a ticket aboard this ship instead of the one on which he now rode. He seemed as much an unwilling captive as Jordan, and her attention was absolutely fixed on him.

And his attention was likewise fixed on her.

What had the captain called him?

Ah, yes: Rowen.

Across the distance Bran watched as Rowen reached up to his chest and touched the spot where his heart resided before pointing to Jordan and then touching his sleeve.

Cables and ropes slithered across the Artemesia ’s body, dropping past the windows and slapping as loud as gunfire against the Western Tower. The Artemesia drifted away from the dock and out of sight of the anxious young man peering out at Jordan from the gut of the Tempest.

13 to Life

Secrets and Shadows

Bargains and Betrayals

Destiny and Deception

Rivals and Retribution

Since she was a child Shannon Delany has written stories, beginning writing in earnest when her grandmother fell unexpectedly ill. Previously a teacher and now a farmer raising heritage livestock, Shannon lives and writes in Upstate New York and enjoys traveling to talk to people about most anything.