Skyland by Aelius Blythe Read Free Book Online

shook his head. He stroked her
face glowing with wonder, the eyes all lit up like stars. "Do you
want to go? I could barter for tickets... the buyer for this
thing," he gestured to the chair "could connect us. He offered, you
know, instead of the Suns, he offered tickets. He's high up and he
could probably still–"
    "No, my Sky. You know I don't."
    "We could. If you changed your mind. It is
not too late."
    "I want to stay right here and watch it take
off. It'll be spectacular just like the other one, won't it?"
    "Yes, I think it will be."
    The chair maker moved away, back to the
window. He opened it. The hot, dusty air tasted fresh after the
fumes of varnish inside the workshop. The chair makers wife came
and leaned her head on his shoulder. He took her hand.
    The sun was fast approaching the horizon and
more and more people were swarming towards the ship.
    "It's almost time." The elderly creak of the
chair maker's wife's voice was high, excited. Her lips, as dry as
her husbands, quivered in a wide smile. The chair maker looked down
at her, his own expression mirroring hers.
    We've got all we need right here.
    "I'd so much rather see it from down here,"
she said, looking up at him. "I think I'd be so nervous to go into
the Sky – not until I have to."
    "May that day be far away."
    She nodded. "A nd She will watch over us
from above, " she quoted from the Sky Tomes .
    "Yes."
    He unclasped her hand and put an arm around
her shoulder, hugged her tight again. Her thin arms reached around
his waist. He was secretly glad that she refused to go on the
ships. The chair maker had always kept his feet firmly on the
ground and he liked it that way. The flying machines scared him. He
squeezed her close.
    You are safer here. And things will be
better after.
    The noise of the crowd was growing as more
and more people flocked to the docks. The light was disappearing
fast now. The lone candle burned brighter in the chair maker's
workshop. He knew he should pinch it out now that he was no longer
working. Soon it would be time to retire to bed and save the light
for another day. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from the docks
where the rumble of the crowd was beginning to turn into a
roar.
    Almost...
    Then some part of the chatting masses went
quiet. Then another. Then another. A wave of quiet moved out from
the base of the ships until there were only a few people here and
there still talking. Then it was silent.
    An announcement was being broadcast over the
heads of the people gathered. The chair maker couldn't hear what it
was. From this distance the voice sounded like it was
underwater.
    But he heard the deafening cheer that went
up from the crowd a second later.
    "It's time..."
    "They're ready..."
    The engines roared.
    Smoke billowed from the base. The engines
chugged and the thing lifted off the ground, slow, graceful. The
smoke cleared and the ship rose higher and higher. People
cheered.
    "They're off..." whispered the chair maker's
wife.
    Then it blew.
    And the cheers turned to screams. Flaming
bits rained down on the crowd.

 
     
    Chapter
Seven
    in which there is
space ...
     
    It's all black.
    Harper closed his eyes. Again. The blackness
behind his lids was natural, expected. It was the comforting night
blackness he saw before sleep. The Sky was still there, past his
eyelids, shrouded in the dark helm of night. But it was there.
    Or at least it had been.
    Where is it now?
    He opened his eyes. Again. After only a
minute he had to look. Like a gawker at a bloody disaster zone, he
couldn't keep his gaze away.
    The black... not Sky... not Sky... space stretched.
    It stretched far, far, far. Going out from
his eyes everywhere he looked outside the ship, going away, away –
to where? It just went on as far as he could imagine.
    He tried not to imagine it.
    His jaw clenched. He ground his teeth
together. His eyes squinted, but he couldn't close them, he
couldn't look away. The thought of the familiar darkness that
waited to comfort him