11 11 One week later, Cole boarded the Domingo for his fifth scouting mission. As a rule, the captains tried not to assign any scout more than three missions in a week, but that courtesy was getting harder to honor since two scouts had died over the last five days. Cole hadn’t really known either of the boys.
He couldn’t help wondering whether other slaves from the caravan of trick-or-treaters would end up at Skyport. According to Twitch, Adam Jones seldom sent buyers to Five Roads to make purchases. Certain slave brokers made acquisitions there and brought likely candidates directly to Skyport. Part of him didn’t want any members of the caravan to end up at Skyport, but a more secret part hoped for it, just so he could see someone from his world and feel a little less alone.
Dalton and Jenna had been selected to go to the king, so even if people from his caravan ended up here, they wouldn’t be the ones he was most anxious to see. He tried to be happy for them. Hopefully, serving the king would be safer than raiding sky castles.
None of the three missions since the scorpipede had been as harrowing as his first outing. The worst had involved headless semblances chasing him through mazelike ruins around a single tall tower. The entire area had been slanted about ten degrees from level. Not exactly a day at the beach, but the Jumping Sword had kept him out of their clutches.
He had made little progress on an escape plan. His superiors kept him busy. If he wasn’t trying to stay alive as a scout, then he was doing chores. Skyport was isolated, and a runaway could be tracked down by a mounted militia armed with special items. But Cole had noticed that as people earned more trust here, they were occasionally included in groups that traveled away from the Brink on Skyport business. That gave him something to daydream about while he searched for other opportunities to escape.
As he advanced up the gangway one handshake at a time, Cole found Mira and Durny in line to thank him. She wore a Jumping Sword at her waist. Cole wanted to ask why she had come aboard, but stopped himself. He had taken Twitch’s advice about not antagonizing Jace, and a part of that had included avoiding Mira. She had made no effort to seek him out, either. Jace still wasn’t acting very friendly, but at least he had stopped giving Cole angry looks.
Because Cole had been avoiding Mira, shaking her hand made him uncomfortable. He accepted her thanks with a nod. It was peculiar to have Durny along as well, since he spent most of his time in his workshop, shaping objects and training apprentices.
Handshakes finished, Cole went and sat on his usual bench while the other men took up their stations. Mira and Durny joined him.
“Where have you been hiding out?” Mira asked.
Trying to act casual, Cole shrugged. “I wondered the same thing. I haven’t seen you around.”
“I’ve practiced a lot with Durny this week.”
“What brings you guys onboard?” Cole asked.
“We mean to harvest floatstones,” Durny said.
“Durny wants to teach me how to extract them,” Mira clarified.
“Dangerous work,” Durny said. “Remove the wrong floatstone and an entire castle might collapse.”
“Why risk it?” Cole asked. The Sky Raiders had three major skycraft—two for active missions, and a third held in reserve.
“No immediate purpose,” Durny said. “Educational reasons, mostly.”
“The raiders don’t have any floatstones stockpiled,” Mira said. “So they always come in handy.”
“Valid point,” Durny agreed. “No matter how carefully the captains fly, skycraft eventually get lost or damaged.”
Cole scrunched his eyebrows. “If they need floatstones to make the skycraft, and they use skycraft to get the floatstones, where did the first floatstones come from?”
Durny tapped his temple. “A thinker, this one. It isn’t documented. Presumably, some bold shapers made it out to the castles using balloons or gliders.”
Cole nodded.
As the Domingo drifted out of the landing bay, Cole went to the railing so he could watch the sky. Near and far, high and low, white, billowy clouds obstructed his line of sight. Their shapes and textures were so clearly defined that they looked almost solid. He counted five castles, but the plentiful clouds most likely concealed many others.
Mira joined him at the railing. “Much cloudier and they might not have flown today.”
“Does it sometimes get foggy?”
“It can. Or stormy. Either way, the skycraft stay grounded.”
“I’m surprised there isn’t a castle on each one.”
“The castles don’t sit on clouds,” Mira said. “The floatstones hold them up. Clouds just form around the foundations. I don’t know why.”
They stood together in silence as the Domingo weaved among the slowly shifting clouds. Castles regularly came in and out of view.
“Did Jace give you a hard time?” Mira asked.
Cole looked at her sharply. “What?”
“He got the idea in his head that you’d upset me,” she said. “He kept bugging me about it. I told him he was wrong, but it can be hard to get through to him. He tries to be protective.”
Cole wondered if he should mention that Jace had a huge crush on her. If Jace ever found out, he would go nuclear. It wasn’t worth more trouble. Mira probably already knew. “He’s fine. It’s no big deal.”
Mira nodded. She glanced at the clouds. “You nervous?”
“About the castle? Of course.”
“As bad as the first time?”
“Different. At least I know the drill. Then again, I also have a better idea of how bad it can get.”
The Domingo started circling a complex of buildings connected by wide patios. The stately structures were made of white stone and featured lots of grooved pillars. Water splashed in numerous marble fountains. The only greenery came from a few narrow lawns and some neatly squared hedges. Fires burned in large kettles, in suspended bowls, and on platters held by statues. Cole could smell the smoke.
“Die bravely,” Mira said as the captain approached.
“I like this prospect,” Captain Post said. “So do the spotters. Go have a closer look.”
“Should I take the shawl?” Cole asked.
Captain Post had kept Merva’s shawl. He had sent out some scouts wearing it to see if it helped conceal them from semblances. If it had turned out to be powerful, he’d meant to make it a special item. That didn’t seem to be the case. “It didn’t stop those headless fiends from chasing you. I haven’t seen it do anything.”
“It might have only worked at the castle where you found it,” Mira chimed in. “Some items are like that.”
“I’ve used it every time,” Cole said. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Take it, then,” the captain said. “Nothing wrong with a lucky token or two.” He went and retrieved it from a nearby bin. “Keep it if you’d like.”
“Thanks.”
Cole fastened the clasp around his neck and then climbed into the Okie Dokie with Jed and Eli. They had ferried him on every scouting mission so far. They nodded in greeting. No words were exchanged as Jed guided the lifeboat into the sky.
“Any preference to where we put you down?” Jed asked.
While Cole studied the collection of buildings and patios, a man emerged from between the columns of one of the largest buildings and started down broad steps toward a fountain. Dressed like a Roman soldier, he wore a breastplate molded to his powerful torso and carried a hefty sword in one hand. Shielding his eyes, he looked up at the lifeboat.
“Think he’s trouble?” Cole asked.
“That knife looks a little big for dicing vegetables,” Eli observed.
“He sees us,” Cole said. “Might as well put me down near him.”
“You got it,” Jed replied.
The soldier waited as the boat came to a halt above him. Eli threw out the rope ladder. Cole climbed down, flag in hand. The man watched him silently. He made no threatening gesture. Still, when Cole reached the bottom, he felt hesitant to step off. The soldier only stood a few paces away.
“Mind if I join you?” Cole asked.
“Up to you,” the man said. His wild hair hung almost to his shoulders. A jewel gleamed in one earlobe. Complex bindings held his sandals in place and were partly hidden beneath his metal shin guards.
Cole planted the flag by dropping it to the ground, then drew his sword. “I don’t want to fight you.”
“I wouldn’t want to fight me either.”
Cole stepped down. The man watched him curiously. Cole stayed ready to jump.
“Explain the flag,” the man said.
“It’s just a signal,” Cole replied. “Proof I came here.”
“State your business,” the soldier said. His voice was manly and resonant, but not unfriendly.
“I’m a scout,” Cole said.
“A scout has no business here,” he said. “This is a place for heroes.”
“Are you a hero?”
“I am Lyrus. The vital question is, are you a hero?”
“What if I’m not?”
“Then you had better hurry back up that ladder.”
“I have a sword,” Cole said, holding it up.
Lyrus rolled his eyes. “Is that little thing your best argument?”
“I fought a scorpipede.”
“That’s more promising. What’s a scorpipede? Was it big?”
“Huge. Longer than most of these buildings.”
Lyrus brightened. “Did you slay it?”
“Um, no, but it didn’t kill me, either.”
“Did you wound it?”
“Not really. I mostly ran from it.”
Lyrus looked disappointed.
“But I got away,” Cole added. “It was a good chase.”
“Were you rescuing somebody?”
“No.”
“Hunting treasure?”
“Sort of.”
“What did you claim?”
“Just this shawl,” Cole said, tugging on it.
“Hmmm,” Lyrus said. “Why the shawl? Can it turn you into a bat? Make you invisible?”
“No,” Cole said. “I don’t think it does much.”
Lyrus frowned thoughtfully. “Yet here you are.”
“Why is this place for heroes?” Cole asked.
Lyrus looked upon his surroundings with pride. “Parona is a sacred proving ground.”
“Heroes train here?”
Lyrus gave him half a grin. “Lessons are for elsewhere. This is no school. Champions come here to test themselves.”
Cole considered the area more cautiously. “How are they tested?”
“It depends how they choose.”
“Can they die?”
“Wouldn’t be much of a trial if they couldn’t. Are you staying or going?”
“I can still go?”
“I suppose. I’m the wrong person to ask. I don’t understand how cowards think.”
“Ouch! Are you daring me?”
“I’m stating a fact. I’ve never run from a fight or backed down from a challenge. Nor will I ever. But that is me. I see no valor in forcing a coward to prove himself when he would rather flee. Do you?”
“No.”
Lyrus gave a nod. “The man unwilling to brave the test has already shown himself to be much more craven than the man who fails.”
Cole couldn’t help feeling offended. “What if I didn’t come here to be tested? Heroes only need to be brave when there’s a good reason. It would be stupid to risk your life without a purpose.”
Lyrus sighed. “Every coward has his excuses.”
“What are the tests?”
“The only way to find out is to try one.”
“What do I get if I pass?”
“Confirmation of your heroic status.”
“Like what? A certificate?”
“You get to keep a weapon from the arms room, a work of art from the gallery, and an item from the treasure house.”
Cole glanced up at the lifeboat. “Can I tell you why I’m here and get your advice?”
“If you wish.”
“We’re salvagers. We want to take some stuff before this place is destroyed. Would each person have to pass a test to take something?”
Lyrus paused. “There are five trials prepared.”
“What if we pass all five?”
“Then . . . I would arrange for more.”
“Would you have time?”
Lyrus scowled in thought.
“This place will only be around for a day or two,” Cole pointed out.
“Nonsense.”
“You know we’re floating in the sky.”
“Nonsense.”
Cole glanced upward. “I came here in a flying ship. Look around.”
“Non—” Lyrus began, but then stopped himself. He squinted up at the Okie Dokie. He surveyed the area. “I feel . . . odd.” He rubbed his eyes. “It’s hard to explain.” He scanned the area some more. “How have I missed so much?” He folded his arms. “It’s as though I’m not supposed to recognize what I’m seeing. I’m not supposed to pay attention.” He gave a sheepish smile. “I never thought about whether Parona was in the sky or not. I didn’t stop to consider the odd manner of your arrival. Yet I see it all now, and no matter what impulses compel me otherwise, I cannot unsee it. I never run. I never hide. Not from anything.”
Cole felt bad for the big soldier. He knew he had just messed with his head.
Lyrus glowered at the ground. “You call yourself a salvager. You claim that Parona will be destroyed?”
“This is a castle floating in the sky. You came out of a cloudwall. You’re heading for another cloudwall. You’ll never come back.”
Closing his eyes, Lyrus rubbed his temples. He gritted his teeth. “Where do I come from?” he muttered. “I can’t recall where I come from.”
“You’ve probably existed for less than a day,” Cole said. “Nobody really knows how you were made.”
“Nor do I,” Lyrus said. His eyes widened. “No! No, no, no! You speak the truth! I’m a fraud!”
Cole was ready to run. The soldier didn’t seem very stable.
“I had no idea,” Lyrus said, a little calmer. “I have no past. It seemed I did, before I gave it my attention, but as I examine myself honestly, I have no history. No childhood. No memories before this place. I pose as an expert on heroism, yet I have accomplished nothing.”
Cole stared at the soldier. He seemed more perplexed than angry or sad.
“Would you mind if we took some stuff?” Cole attempted. “That way, part of Parona can live on.”
Lyrus examined his sword. He stared down at himself, stroking his breastplate with one hand. “I look real enough.” He met eyes with Cole. “Real as you.”
Cole wasn’t sure how to respond.
The soldier looked up at the Okie Dokie and beyond to the Domingo. “There are fine treasures here. I understand why you salvagers took an interest. But I cannot allow you to take anything without first passing a test.”
Cole sagged a little. Lyrus had been sounding so reasonable. “Why not?”
The soldier straightened. “It is my duty. It is my purpose.”
“Why is it your duty?” Cole pressed. “Who gave you the duty?”
Eyes squeezed shut, Lyrus bowed his head. “I have no answer.”
“Can’t you just drop the act?” Cole asked.
“I’m here to test heroes.”
“What gives you the right to test anyone?”
Lyrus sheathed his sword. “This is my purpose. I may have no past, but I am still Lyrus. I am not deaf to your request. I can be reasonable. I don’t want the treasures of Parona to head needlessly into oblivion. There may be some room for bargaining. But a test must be passed.”
“We’re not heroes,” Cole said. “My job is to run from danger, not to fight it.”
“If only,” Lyrus began, and then he looked like he was choking.
“Are you okay?” Cole checked.
The big soldier nodded and steadied himself. “Perhaps,” he started again, then couldn’t finish.
“You can’t tell me,” Cole realized.
Lyrus nodded.
“You want to help me?”
“Yes.”
Cole had a devious thought. “Don’t run away from this. Don’t back down. If you want to help, there must be a way around it.”
The soldier’s expression grew intent and serious. His lips moved as if to speak several times before he said, “I’m chilly.”
“What?”
Lyrus gave him a level gaze. “You don’t know what you have. I’m chilly.” His eyes dropped a little.
Cole fingered his shawl. “This?”
Lyrus trembled but said nothing.
Cole sheathed the sword and unclasped the shawl. Lyrus knelt, and Cole put the shawl over his shoulders, clasping it.
“Is that better?” Cole asked.
Lyrus smiled. “Much better.”
“Why?”
“The cloak makes a semblance obey whoever puts it on them.”
Cole blinked. “You know you’re a semblance?”
“Not until you gave me the cloak. It freed me to know what I had to know in order to serve you. Whoever made me caused me to ignore my true nature. You were helping me catch glimpses, but now I see plainly. Until you gave me the cloak, I didn’t realize I had been fabricated. This is common with semblances. We play a role without much self-reflection. It helps us seem more authentic.”
“Who made you?” Cole asked, wondering if he could answer now.
Lyrus furrowed his brow. “I still don’t know. I’d tell you if I did. I’ve never met my maker. I sprang into being along with Parona not long ago.”
“A semblance gave me this shawl. How could she take it off if it controlled her?”
Folding his arms, Lyrus paused before answering. “In a place like Parona, we semblances form a system. Some semblances are allowed more leeway than others. The semblance you encountered must have had the freedom to decide how best to preserve the system. I myself enjoy similar freedoms.”
The explanation matched Merva’s behavior. It clarified why she might have been the only one to offer him her shawl. “Wait. You wanted me to give you the shawl so you could help me?”
“I’ve become more self-aware than my creator expected,” Lyrus said. “After you helped me recognize my origin, I turned my bravery against the cognitive limits my shaper had placed on me. The effort opened my eyes to many things, but there were some mental boundaries I couldn’t cross. I recognized what your shawl could do when I first saw you. It was why I asked about it—to see if you were aware. Without the shawl, my options were limited. But with it, more becomes possible. To be honest, helping you was only a small portion of my intent.”
“Then why point out the shawl?”
Lyrus stood tall. “I want the chance to prove my worth. If you command it, I’ll take the test for you. I’ll serve as your champion.”